The Answer

Part 2

Writers:

Redskin122004

TB3

Proudtobe

Editor:

Drawdex

Dedication to the Victims of the Boston Bombings:

A million words would not bring you back, I know because I've tried.

Neither would a million tears, I know because I've cried.

In war, resolution; in defeat, defiance; in victory, magnanimity.

- Winston Churchill

War doesn't determine who is right, war determines who is left.

- Bertrand Russell

Secrets and lies! It's all secrets and lies with those ponies!

-Pinkie Pie

New York City, New York; NewYork–Presbyterian Hospital; 2023 Anno Dominae

"Okay, so, before we start, the purpose of this record is for future reference, and academic interest. Documenting today's procedure are Senior Airman James Johnstone, USAF, and Photo Finish, PHL. I am Doctor Catherine Sheffield, International Degree in Reconstructive Microsurgery, and assisting me is Doctor of Veterinary Medicine Maya Akagi, and Nurses Redheart and Barry Romero. Our patient is this brave young lady…"

"Um, hey there…"

"Name, Scootaloo. Adolescent female Equestrian, Pegasus Subgroup. She is afflicted with a magipomp developmental disorder known as Juvenile D/H Necrosis, focused on the alicornial tissue structures of her wings, which require amputation. In this first session, we will be surgically removing the metacarpal bones of both wings, and associated musculature and tissue. Further amputations and reconstructive surgery will follow in subsequent sessions…"

"Enough talk already Cath! The more time you waste chatting to the camera, the more harm she's in from the necrosis spreading!"

"Just one minute Fire'….ahem. Scootaloo has graciously allowed for these sessions to be recorded, improving our understanding of magical anatomy and biology. Due to the healing physiomagical qualities of positive emotional states in Equestrians, also known as the 'Harmony Effect', she will be accompanied through the procedure by her nomi-legal guardian, Wildfire, and her fillyfriend, Babs Seed. The current time is 10.04pm, and we are about to begin pre-op anesthesia. Are you ready to go Scootaloo?"

"Ready as I'll ever be Doc…'…I'm sorry, I guess I should be cooler about this?"

"Watcha' talking bout' Scoots? Youze not loosing ya wings, youze gaining a place in history. Ain't nopony gonna forget whatyer' doin' here."

"Th…thanks Babs…Wildfire…guys…please don't go?"

"Never honey…never…"

"I…love you... both…"

"And we love you…"

"…there, she's sedated now. Wildfire, Babs, if you just remain close to the head end of the table, and we'll keep to the back and sides. Feel free to sing or talk to her if you think it helps…right, I am now commencing the primary incision…"

Love. Four letters representing an emotional state brought on by mere hormones and stimulated neuro-emitters, but capable of so much.

Cadance knew that better than most. The…'unconventional' mentor that the PHL had produced for her to study under had taught her that much.

'Chrysalis was right; you really can almost touch it…wherever the old monster has gone to now, I hope she's at peace…'

Even separated from the Operating Theatre by thick glass observation windows, she could feel the spectrum of feelings radiating from inside. Wildfire and Babs practically radiated with affection, devotion and concern, whilst the staff attending to Scootaloo were shaded in softer tones of compassion and care. Now, soaking up those disparate feelings that could all be classified under 'love', Cadance felt strong, in body and spirit. As Wildfire leaned in to nuzzle her young ward, the mare who would have been the Crystal Princess felt an involuntary shiver run through her, and her emaciated wings gave an involuntary, vestigial flutter. She was beginning to see where the Changelings had crossed the line into emotional addiction…

"Cadance?" a voice interrupted, and with a shamefaced flush on her face, Cadance trotted around to see Cheerilee standing in the observation gallery's doorway. The burgundy mare had more lines around her eyes nowadays, and her forelegs were wrapped in bandages from where she had volunteered to go under Sparkler's runic needle, becoming a unicorn in all but name and horn…

"Trixie's got the prisoner secured," Cheerilee continued. "She's ready to receive you now."

"Alright", the young pegacorn nodded. She could feel a low wave of concerned love emanating from Cheerilee and paused to embrace the older mare. "Don't worry Cheerilee; they will find Marcus, I know they will."

The acting commander of the PHL did not answer, but instead loosely returned the hug. "I hope so Cadance, I really do."

Then, her magical batteries fully charged from bathing in the emotions pouring out of the operating theatre, Cadance left with her head held high, ready to prove a point.

That when Power was confronted with Love, Love would win…

It HAD to win. For her Shiny's sake, and the sake of everyone and everypony else…

"Who...what is going on!?" Fields managed, outrage fighting hoof-to-hoof with fear.

"Tsk tsk, Captain Fields" the blue mare that had evidently captured him tutted, slowly pacing back and forth before him with brazen cheek. "Wouldn't a seasoned soldier know an interrogation when he sees one?"

Fields returned a hostile glare, a swell of righteous indignation punching straight through his rising dread. "You're the Blue Spy?"

He managed a derisive snort. "The fabled Blue Spy is really the Oh-So- Great and Powerful Trixie? Ha! A failed mountebank, a carnival showmare now turned traitor! How very pathetic."

"Ho-hum" Trixie replied, rolling her shoulders with affected nonchalance. Her horn shimmered as she telekinetically tossed a small knife in the air. Momentarily it landed on her nose and she gave it a casual flick, vaulting it over her back where it was caught in a deft flick of the tail.

"So is this it?" Fields hissed, trying to push a possible advantage. "Is this dingy cellar all the fabled Human Resistance can muster? Is this the final squalid bastion where you will cower from the Rescue Fleet and the Salvation Army."

"Hmm? Oh them. No we're well behind the front lines – it might surprise you to know that the Battle of Boston has stretched out into a bit of a stalemate, and so far as I know, the Rescue Fleet was all but destroyed. I'll show you the video of the Great Equestrian crashing into the Hancock Tower when we're done; you might find it quite entertaining. And the Salvation Army out of Stalliongrad has been reduced in numbers by over a third." Trixie said nonchalantly, her horn glowing as she unfolded the switchblade. "No, the reason we're down in the bottom of the bunker network is so that the others can't hear you screaming. The PHL has quite a few bright young mares and colts under their wings, and we don't want to scar them for life."

With a sudden flick she thrust the blade into Field's face, hovering it an inch from one of the older pony's eyes.

"This is a Robert Klaas Kissing Crane Stiletto. The company that makes them has been around for nearly two centuries now. They started with penknives, and eventually produced a wide variety of interest variants, all designed for a specific purpose."

The knife slowly crept closer, until the tip was lightly pressing against the soft cartilage at the base of Field's horn.

"This particular blade is made for stabbing, and the 'carnival showmare' now holding it has used it plenty of times to put hundreds of unaware monsters...oh...I'm sorry, I mean new foals, out of their misery. This is what Equestria did to me, Captain Fields, forced me to find a better cause than myself, and drive me to shed a lot of blood for that cause. My blood, and the blood of others, so much until I practically bathed in it. Like some vampiric tyrant of old." The mare leaned in close, her eyes narrowing upon him. "I'm hardly a pony anymore, but at least I can say that my mind, my soul, my heart are my own, as are those of the humans and ponies that I care for. Can you say that, Captain Fields, slave of a fallen Queen, child of a perverted nation, wannabe champion of a genocide that defies all that was good and right about Equestria?"

"Go to Tartarus!" Fields shouted, "Whatever info you want, you can spill as much of my blood as you want. And you're no pony, you're one of those…those human things! You might trot on four hooves, but you're the very image of what Equestria needs to stomp on, squash out, crush underhoof until nothing is left! YOU, ARE, AN, ANIMAL!"

"She is loved, and loves in return, truly and honestly," a new voice butted in, and from the corner of his eye Fields saw another mare trot into view. Pegacorn, pink, slightly above average build, from a royal house most likely because of the withered wings. But the eyes…oh he had seen eyes like that on the faces of troops back from the front. Trixie, the Blue Spy, hid her emotions quite well, but this mare let it all show. So much pain…

"What is the measure of a person Captain?" Trixie pushed. "I might kill, I might be a depraved perversion of the pony ideal, but I can say I am a free pony. You, are not, and we're going to help you see that."

The pink pegacorn stepped closer, her horn lighting up, and Fields felt a sudden twitch deep inside him. She radiated…something, something that made him think of…

/Childhood/mother/adoration/compassion. Older, Celestia, not Queen, true Princess/right/honest/true. Swearing in, oath of trust/brokenBROKENbetrayed…/

"Stop!" he screamed, trying to roll away. Something inside him was twisting, coiling around his very life. Such thoughts were…wrong…comparing the Queen to how she used to be was-/FORBIDDEN-FORBIDDEN-FORBIDDEN-DONOTTHINKDONOTREMEM BER-OATHOATHOATH!/

Blue Spy smiled, something that put Green Field on edge. "You have spunk, Captain. I'm pretty sure that if you could choose, you'd be on our side. Sadly, that choice has been stolen from you, your very will and identity violated. You're no new foal, but you stand with those ideals, and you don't know why...do it Cadance…go deep"

She stepped aside, and Green Field's stomach dropped the pink mare, Cadance….(one of the minor princesses?)…lowered her horn as if ready to joust and pressed closer, her horn radiant and her very fibre tingling with that same terrible force that had touched him just now.

"I'm sorry to do this, Captain Fields, but you will thank me for it," she said, her tone mournful but determined. "But you will thank me for it. Now, what do you treasure the most? WHO do you treasure the most?"

/QUEEN CELESTIA…no, how could he think that? /DUTY OBEY!/His family, his beloved daughter and granddaught-/CELESTIA! NO OTHER HIGHER LOVE…CONFORM-OBEY-SERVE!/

"Focus on that Captain!" Cadance shrilled. "Family, your own blood, the daughter and grandfilly you love so much. Hold onto that, not what Celestia's Geas compels you!"

Family-kith/kin-somuch-love-COMFORM OR DIE, CONFORM OR DIE-nonono-two small foals he'd held when they were infants-GLORY/INCARNATE/RADIANT/PERFECT/WORSHIP AND OBEY! OBEY OR DIE!/

"Yes, think of that Captain…" Trixie hissed into his ear, lips curled in a smirk. "Think of them tied to a chair, my knife dancing in front of their eyes…that's what will happen unless you yield…after all, who said I had to draw your blood to hurt you?"

/Protectforever/never let them be hurt/on his life-/ON YOUR SOUL! OBEY! OBEY! SERVE FOREVER! LOVE HER FOREVER!/

"STOP!" he screamed, the force in his chest now a vice crushing that which was his most inviolate self. "YOU'RE KILLING ME!"

But still the Pink mare forced on, forcing up memories: wife, friends, family-/SERVE SLAVE! YOU ARE PROPERTY! YOU ARE THE LIMB OF OUR WILL!/

"She's not doing anything Fields, much less killing you. That's all dear Celly's work. But I will kill your daughter and grandchild, and my work will not be quick and merciful, but slow…

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" he screeched, back arcing involuntarily.

"You can save them…simply tell me what I want to know…tell me about the dragon, Spike…"

Field's mouth slammed shut /SLAVE! OBEY/SPEAKNOT, and he struggled for breath.

"I…can't!"

"Why not…don't you love them? Does he, Cadance…"

"Deeply and truly Trix…come on Captain, you can feel what's been done to you. FIGHT IT!"

/YOU-ARE-SLAVE/THING/INSTRUMENT/TOY-SERVE AND LOVE US! LOVE ME DO!/

"I…CAN'T! It…won't let me!"

"What won't? Just say it, defy the spell. Scream the name of your oppressor."

"IT-SHE! ARGHHHHHHH!"

"Fight soldier! Do your duty to those that deserve it most, your family. As a Princess of Equestria, as the Scion of the Crystal Empire, I am ordering you to fight it, in the name of Highest Love and Harmony!"

/YOU-ARE-OURS/

"What would be best, Fields? Should I start with your granddaughter, and make her mother watch? Or would it be better to make the child watch as I mutilate her mother?"

/I love you daddy./ His baby girl, all grown up, watching as she gave him a warm smile full of love.

/SERVE US!/

/I love you too grandpa./ His granddaughter, her young face full of laughter and life.

/OBEY US!/

/Buck up Green, getting tired you old stallion? Ha! Don't you worry about it, I can handle everything for the both of us./ His loving wife, their twilight years flashing before his eyes, the happiest he had ever been.

/LOVE US!REVERE US!ADORE US!/

"Oh...looks like daddy doesn't care, Sweety. Don't worry; your grandfilly will get a share." Blue Spy, taunted, the words tripping out in a demented lullaby.

"I…she…the Queen!" Field's mouth babbled, seizing shut and releasing in spasms, froth and spittle flowing over his chops. Whatever was wrapped around his soul was screaming in tune with him, like a snake that had been skewered but refused to die.

"Do it Captain!" Cadance shouted, horn a column of blue fire and sweat pouring down her face from the strain. "You're almost at the summit soldier! Just defy her once, and you'll raise the flag of love forevermore! Love, Captain, USE YOUR LOVE!"

"I…am….your loyal…Captain, PRINCESS CADANCE…." Fields roared suddenly. "SHE DID IT! CELESTIA DID THIS TO ME, TO ALL OF US! OH SWEET MERCY, WHY!?"

Something snapped inside of him, and for a second Fields felt a numbing cold wash over him, and knew that his heart had stopped.

'So this is it. All those battles, and this is how it feels to die. And here comes the Pale Mare to take me away…hello old friend, we meet at last…'

'Oh buck up Green you sappy old romantic…' The ghostly unicorn that filled his vision laughed softly.'You're not dead yet, just very exhausted.'

No, it wasn't the Pale Mare…that build, that face, those loving eyes…his wife?

'Maybelle…but, you're dead…long dead…don't go, stay with me, please…'

'You fought well my darling, through your hardest battle yet…but we're not destined to be reunited just yet. Go…our family needs you…'

'I'll do it, May…I'll fight again, for them, for everyone. Oh powers, I am so sorry…'

'Hush, hush…what was done to you through the Charter of the Guard wasn't your fault, but overcoming Celestia's Bind was certainly your triumph…and I never left your side…I'll always be here…'

Something lurched inside his chest and Fields felt feeling come surging back with a sickening gasp. Every part of him ached, and yet somehow, he felt lighter…lighter than he had in years. Free…

Slowly, he opened his eyes. He had fallen into the embrace of the most-assuredly Great and Powerful Trixie, who was slowly stroking his mane with mechanical precision. Princess Cadance was slumped a few feet away, happy tears running down her face.

"It worked… love won, love…; love can win again…"

"Yeah…" Trixie said numbly, as an exhausted Fields breathed heavily in her forearms. "Love…"

Slowly she looked over to the princess, who was now repeatedly sobbing her husband's name.

"Cadence…what has this war done to us? What are we going to be when it's done? Heroes, criminals, monsters worse those than those we've fought…or, something else altogether…it scares me Cadence. It scares me…"

"So, Spike's being held in the Everfree…" Cheerilee mused, a pen tucked behind one ear and a veritable library's worth of digital reports carefully arranged across one of her office's four e-walls, separated into categories: Boston, Intelligence, R&D, Black-Ops, Internal, on and on. At the center of it all, trying to assimilate everything, separate the chaff from the wheat, the curd from the cream, Ponyville's former schoolteacher trotted back and forth, warily levitating a notepad beside her with her newly-applied magic.

"That's right…" Cadance confirmed, wings tucked in and hooves together as she stood at attention (Cheerilee neither asked for or demanded parade-ground formality, but having spent enough time in the company of soldiers and guardsponies, Cadence felt it respectful and appropriate). "Fields gladly shared everything he knew once we shattered the Geas acting on him. After he and his troops subdued Spike over Equestria's Eastern Ocean, he was escorted under armed guard to the Castle of the Two Royal Sisters.

Cheerilee paused and attempted to magically draw the pen from behind her ear, but instead fumbled the object and dropped it: right before it hit the floor, Cadence caught it in her own blue field of magic, holding it still for Cheerilee to recover.

"Thank you Cadence…and I thought learning how to write without my mouth was hard…" Cheerilee acknowledged, before reverting her attention back to the incoming reports projected on the wall, gesturing with the pen for emphasis.

"We're holding Boston for now, but can't maintain it forever. Zecora's spell depends on Earth's own neglected magic to hold back the barrier, and the Miskatonic leyline won't last much longer before Equestria's magical might is focused to overpower it. Now we've got border incursions all down Massachusetts and New Hampshire as the Solar Guard attempt to drive a spear in our flanks and rear. But we've gained an important metaphorical victory, in that we've halted a previously unstoppable advance, and forced them to change tactics…who knows what results a few more upsets to Celestia's applecarts may yield…"

"Such as a high-ranking Captain of the Royal Guard defecting?" Cadence suggested, and Cheerliee wondered if she meant Green Fields or was suggesting abducting and 'turning' Shining Armor. Both had merit.

"Yes…or a dragon joining our campaign," she answered. "The PHL and the UN forces could certainly use some draconic support, and from what we now know, Spike has grown into a powerful young drake, so he would be a valuable asset. Better yet, he could easily pass through the barrier at will, and come out the other side still armed with his natural fire; a few quick strikes in and out of Equestria would certainly make more ponies question 'Celly's' invulnerability and assurances of invincibility…"

Cadence nodded, even as the two of them shared a weary and slightly strained expression.

"You feel it too, huh?" Cheerilee asked, and Cadence nodded.

"We're both committed to all this, but the fact that it had to come to this just feels wrong. I can't help but imagine what could have been if First Contact had not descended into…well everything that we've lived through."

"Yeah…we've lost a lot, but learned a lot too…" Cheerilee levitated over a handkerchief to wipe down her face (levitation and basic spellwork came easier to her than it had Marcus, but the lack of a horn to act as a natural magical focus made even rudimentary magic demanded a lot of focus). "When this is all done, I'd just like to settle down somewhere with Marcus, build a home, and then…we'll, try to rebuild the world…lots of children are going to need foster parents, billions will need proper homes, the newfoals are going to need so much therapy…and time, we're all going to need time…"

Cheerilee sighed, and once again fumbled the pen. This time, Cadence was too emotionally drawn to catch it, and it clattered onto the floor.

"Trixie's already gone after Spike…" Cadence said softly. "I think she needs to keep moving to keep her mind off of all this…"

"She's not alone Cadence…if I don't keep working, all I can think about is Marcus, and wherever he might be now. Is it the same for you and Shining Armor?"

"Yes…"

"Well, I get the feeling that we'll be moving into the endgame of the war soon…and hopefully we'll have both of our loved ones back to help us endure the peace that comes next…because it's probably going to be worse than anything we've suffered yet…"

Cheerilee's voice trailed off, and a long silence prevailed. Reports clicked in and out on the e-walls, bouncing away into the digital ether, until finally Cadence managed a sorrowful smile.

"But at least we won't be alone, and will have homes to go home to at the end of the day. Hooves and arms to be held in, friends and family to share our pain; that's more than many will have, and we should treasure that."

The pen lay on the floor, forgotten. Printed down the side were a faded Union Jack and the words 'A Present from Historic London'…

Everfree Forest, Castle of Two Sisters

"Dammit!" Trixie…no, Blue Spy again, cursed to herself as she ducked beneath a low branch. "Its' times like this that I wish I had enough power to Teleport. That trip took too long! Stupid forest, stupid dragon, stupid train, stupid newfoals and stupider baboons!"

Some might have seen this as a nascence of a split personality. Blue Spy was not one of those people.

"Come on, Tr-Uh...I mean Spy, let's go!" a cheerful voice echoed in front of her, the words touched by a musical tone.

"Shut up!" Spy hissed at the young mare who was leading the way. "Do you want to give us away!?"

"Sorry..."The teen whispered. Spy simply shook her head.

"How much further Sweetie Bell?" she sighed, and the youth paused at the forest around her. Again, some might have observed this and assumed Sweetie Bell was lost: in truth, she was simply assessing which of the several routes available to them best avoided the 'enthusiastic' life indigenous to the Everfree. Taking up residence in Zecora's old hut did that to a filly. It was also why Spy had sought her out to guide her through the forest. Finally, Sweetie pointed ahead of her and slightly to the left.

"That way, and that way alone: veer more than fifty years off that bearing and you'll find quicksand on one side and manticore territory on the other."

"Manticores? You're sending me past their territory!?"

"Well you could try taking the path through the chupacabra burrows, but I wouldn't recommend it; the manticores are migrating between nests at this time of year, so the various packs are more likely to be paying attention to one another than you."

With a sharp buck, Sweetie Bell tossed two small phials out of her saddlebag, balancing them on her forehead and snout. Spy's eyes narrowed, suddenly noticing how much more…well, graceful Sweetie Bell had become since moving into the Forest. Did she always have that leanly muscled, athletic build and…was…was that a machete sticking out of the pack!?

"The pink phial is hydra hormones, highly concentrated" Sweetie said cheerfully. "Spread it on your knife and it should induce fairly quick cardiac arrest in anything you cut it with; useful when fighting off the larger carnivores."

"What's the yellow one?" Spy asked, not wanting to know how the clean, fresh-faced, and frighteningly well-prepared young mare had obtained these supplies. She didn't exactly look feral but…well; she did live in the Everfree, alone…

"Hydra urine…keep it uncorked and the scent will do a better job of deterring anything than trying to fight them."

Nose wrinkling in disgust but nodding, Spy ignited her horn and made to seize the phials, before Sweetie Bell unexpectedly slapped her across the nose, a move that might have earned her a stiletto in the jugular, were it not for the unexpectedness of it all.

"No! No magic! The parasprites have been reproducing out of control since Celestia took the Crystal Throne, and they're drawn to strong sources of magic; and where parasprites go, scavengers follow!"

Sweetie shook her head, muttering about 'moronic townsponies' and turned to point into the undergrowth.

"Now, after half a mile you'll hit the old Royal Road; it's a stream-bed now, which is why almost no-one knows it still exists. Follow it downstream, keep quiet, and don't make eye contact with anything with scales or feathers, especially if it's got scales and feathers, and eventually you'll reach the gorge: the bridge is just up from where the stream pours off. You'll see the castle on the other side." Sweetie Bell spouted off.

"Alright…" Spy nodded, before shooting a quick glance at the youth. Despite everything, Sweetie Bell was still a blank-flank; she seriously hoped it was due to Equestria's spreading sickness, because from how scarily good she was at playing survivalist, the world might be in danger when Sweetie discovered her special talent.

"What about you? Don't you need a guide?" Sweetie asked

"Don't need one; I have a ride waiting for me." Spy answered, and Sweetie smiled.

"Doctor?"

"Doctor."

"Alright, well, be careful."

"Thank you Bell…" Spy said curtly, taking two steps forward before pausing and turning, ears flicking as if embarrassed. "Look, it's going to get tough in Equestria soon. Go to Golden Harvest Ranch; Carrot Top can get you out into New York. You'd be safe there, and Seedling and the Chicken could do from seeing you about."

"Oh no, I'll be fine" Sweetie smiled, showing slightly more teeth than might be expected. "Besides, how else would Zecora make all those magical lotions for you, Scoots, Babs and the rest without me gathering supplies from the Everfree? Now vamoose ya varmit!"

With that, Sweetie pulled the machete (yes, it was indeed just that) out of her saddlebag and, with it clenched firmly in her jaws, trotted off into the gloom of the jungle, softly humming a lullaby as she went.

Watching her melt away as if she was part of the Everfree itself, Spy felt a shiver run through her; then she stomped it out with a huff, before smirking.

"Okay, so you'll be fine. But what about me?" she muttered, carefully treating her blade with the hydra solution as directed, before uncorking the phial of urine; then, with it tucked into an open pocket on her combat harness, she slowly slunk forward into the forest, careful not to make a single sound.

That is not to say that she did not go unnoticed. Just before reaching the old Royal Road she had a run-in with an adolescent manticore, most likely a rogue male which had been driven out of one of the migrating packs. It had been dining on…well, what was once a lost guardspony. A few thrusts of the drugged blade had put it into cardiac shock before it could do any damage to her, and Spy had for good measure run another knife through the venom sacks in its tail, making sure to work the stuff into the blade's serrated teeth: double protection. She even got a decent, if slightly punctured chest-plate off the dead guard (it momentarily occurred to her that The Great & Powerful Trixie would have most likely run screaming and then become another entrée for the predatory chimera, but that moment passed quite quickly)

Eventually however, she hit the gorge. The Castle was evidently occupied, from the partly-restored structure and the new prison wings built onto it (in concrete, she noted, evidently a concept that Equestria had borrowed off humanity). Traitor's Walk, the highway that connected the fortress to Ponyville and, thence, Canterlot, followed the gorge out through the forest in the opposite direction, but there was still a bridge, albeit a modern suspension span wrought in steel.

As she approached, the sound of hooves on the deck of the bridge prompted her to sidle into hiding behind a large rock. Two guards trotted past, muttering lowly to one another.

"Did you hear?" the larger of the two said. "The Recovery Fleet's surge into America was thwarted!"

"No way, those humans don't have the ability to do that!" protested his colleague. "The Great Equestrian-"

"-was destroyed too! Didn't you read today's circular? Something halted the barrier in Boston and the Salvation Army was portaged through from Stalliongrad to sweep for the cause of it."

"What happened?"

"The humans deployed some kind of magical flying-machine and took out the portal station, cutting off the supply-line from Stalliongrad. The troops committed found themselves lured into a sack and were forced to dig in, carrying only the supplies needed for the fast-strike, not an extended campaign. About sixty percent of them have fallen back through the Barrier to Base Shadowfax in Nova Scoltia, but the remainder is still entrenched along the new front."

"What!? No! You lie! The Salvation Army is nearly a million strong! That means four-hundred THOUSAND ponies are trapped in…that dirty place."

"Oh, they'll overwhelm the humans through sheer force of numbers, but after all this, Her Majesty will demand heads roll for this insult. Good riddance too!"

They both spat on the ground in agreement, and Spy rolled her eyes. They weren't newfoals, just average Pony-Joe guards under the influence of the Geis, but still…who, other than an ideologically-enforced zombie, talked like that? On the other hoof, interesting Intel on Boston; she'd have to pass on the tidbit about Equestrian troop commitments and supply-lines to Cheerilee when she got back.

The two troops were following what appeared to be a predetermined patrol, and keeping well back she followed them, using a featherstep charm to silence her hoofsteps and listening intently; one interesting thing was that, with Equestria itself so remote from the fighting, no-one had seemed to grasp the concept of 'careless talk costs lives'; even Celestia's Geis did not stop the two from trading what would otherwise be intelligence gold, only colored their emotional response: they were gleeful at victories, furious at defeats, and rabidly xenophobic and brutal when imagining the fate of humans and 'traitors', but never actually questioned the orders that had resulted in such a tactical nightmare. Curious.

As she listened in, she began to assemble a little picture puzzle from what the two were discussing: rumors of humans behind drenched in potion but remaining unchanged, shielded by a new form of heavy armor that also deflected or absorbed all but the most powerful of spells. PHL ponies and UN troops charging through Equestrian lines led by a huge figure wielding a claymore, and aircraft that for the first time showed magical shielding resilient to the tactics that had previously given pegasai control of Earth's skies. Minor victories and defeats, skirmishes and strikes. Altogether the disparate factlets spoke of two armies suddenly thrown into a new theatre, one where magic was no longer solely on the side of those who walked on hooves.

'Oh brave new world, that has such creatures in it…' she marveled, before shaking off the shiver of joy that was running down her spine; here and now, she had to retain a professional cool.

Then however, the conversation took a more disturbing turn.

"But now we'll strike back!" the two guards agreed, creepily appearing to think in unison, as if telepathically sharing in some grand strategy (was that even possible?). "The monkeys might have stolen themselves some magic, but they can't stand against us all! The Salvation Army has gauged their strength, seen their new tricks, and will soon respond, with fresh troops and supplies!"

Exulting in brutal joy, the guards finally returned to the bridge, their patrol ended. "Even the humans and their savage technology cannot resist the harmonious might of several million ponies! As the Queen has decreed it, so shall it be!"

'Several, million?' Spy processed in horror, her heart seizing monetarily. 'Shit on a spit!'

Again she resisted the lure of emotion; now was no time for a panic. Cheerilee and the human generals had committed to fighting in Boston to try and throw Celestia off-balance. A moment's self-doubt would translate into entire days that Equestrian troops would be held back, giving time for Earth's United Forces to either fortify Boston or withdraw…but now, it seemed that 'Dear Sweet Celly' had pulled several hundred extra divisions out of her flaming asshole, and had such confidence in pony-kind's martial strength that she was willing to commit them…but where had she gotten such a swell of horsepower from?

'The newfoals…' she realized in a flash. 'She's got to be weaponizing the newfoals; reprogramming their base emotional configuration to make them more war-like…there's practically billions of them to draw on, an infinite well of reserves that she can spend like loose change…cannon fodder!'

Even with all the reservations she had for the newfoals, the disgust they invoked in her, now she just felt saddened and dismayed…troops rushed through basic training in just a few weeks, untested in combat, sent smiling to the front lines…that was just sick.

She shook her head, pushing those depressing thoughts into a mental folder and shutting it away in a filing cabinet deep in the basement of her psyche (it had a sign on it warning 'beware of the leopard'). Time was increasingly of the essence – she had to move fast.

The guards she had been stalking had now re-entered the castle, leaving a second pair to guard the bridge. Now, how should the Sneaky and Deadly Spy take care of these fools…oh, she really had to stop doing that.

Something clicked in her bag, and she glanced down at the knife she had doused in Manticore venom. She thought back to the dead animal she had left in the forest, no-doubt an outcast that had challenged one of the clan males. Sweetie had said this was their migratory season…

After a moment of thought, a small smile graced her face.

"Perfect."

It took a while; several minutes backtracking, and then the unwelcome task of bottling the dead runt's urine, and then even more effort to locate one of the migrating Manticore packs. But then, all it had taken was a spritz of musk and…

"HELP!"

The two Earth ponies guarding the bridge jumped at the sounds, and looking towards the bridge over the gorge they saw a green unicorn mare fleeing towards them.

"Halt! Do not- what the buck?!" One guard started, only to trail off in horror as a massive Manticore charged into view, apparently chasing the fleeing mare.

"Ah! It's going to eat me!" the mare shrieked as she ran across the bridge. The Manticore followed, leaping the gorge with one swoop of its powerful wings. "I don't want to be an appetizer! Save me!"

"Have no fear mam', Manticores always turn at the sight of steel!" the larger guard said, hefting his spear, right before she splashed him with a pale yellow liquid. "Wha…what was that?"

"Tag, you're it!" the mare laughed, before retreating up against the castle door, a twisted grin on her face.

The guards blinked. It would be the last thing they would ever do.

Ponies stationed at the Castle of the Two Sisters were, indeed trained to know that Manticores would flee at the sight of a raised spear. What they were not trained to do was fight off an enraged and very hormonal tom who now thought you were that runt bastard male he had chased off his territory two days ago…

The result was a very bloody and savage evisceration. Spy, protected by a few good splashes of 'Eau-du-Hyrda-Piss' watched with a dispassionate curiosity, only blinking when a severed eyeball glanced off her snout. Finally, once she was convinced the two guards were dead, she magically raised his spear and skewered the manticore through the eye. Simples.

Of course, it was impossible for no-one inside the castle to have not overheard the screams, snarls, and assorted interesting sounds a body made when being rent limb-from-limb, but by the time they had raised the portcullis and come rushing out in a futile rescue, all they found was a pair of dead bodies, and a trembling, traumatized guardsmare who had bravely slain the monster that had attacked and murdered their brave friends and colleagues. From the huge dent in her breastplate, it had nearly gotten her as well…

…in the rush to get her into the infirmary, it never occurred to any of the garrison that they had never seen the mare in question before in their lives…

Twenty minutes later, as soon as the medic had gone to report on her condition to the Prison Warden, Spy had abruptly stopped gibbering, sweating and chewing on the blankets, and gotten out of bed. Two more minutes work quickly secured her a full suit of armor from the adjacent locker room, and a quick dash of Changeling magic had reconfigured her appearance into that of a trim young Pegasus guardsmare with a white coat and an elegantly-coiffed mane of purple and lavender curls (it seemed right to pay a little tribute to Sweetie Bell). Now she could walk around quite unmolested, and the helmet let her keep her horn out without having to hide it…

…of course, locating Spike depended on access to someone with knowledge on where he was secured, and for that, the best target was of course the Warden himself. Thankfully, the medic, a unicorn with a propensity for levitating a notepad wherever he went, had left a magical signature a mile-long, one that a skilled sorceress could track with her eyes shut and her ears plugged.

Ten minutes after leaving her bed (quite against Doctor's orders, but that couldn't be helped), Spy was in the corridor outside the Warden's office, standing at attention as if guarding the door (no-one ever paid attention to a guard standing outside a door), putting out a few magical probes to perceive what was going on inside…

"What in the blue blazes is going on Purple Heart!?" a furious voice demanded, loud enough that she hardly needed magic to listen in. "The last I heard, two of my best guards were dead, and another has gone mad!"

"I'm sorry to say that is true. Grave Sight and Drum Green were attacked by a Manticore from the Everfree. I'm not familiar with the mare, probably one of the newfoal recruits, but she acquitted herself marvelously it seems. Still, it seems she wasn't ready to take a life; even that of an animal's…she's showing all the signs of breaking down, like first earlier newfoal recruits did."

"Crab apples, we were assured the latest conscripts had more spine than that!" the warden cursed, and Spy rolled her eyes in disbelief.

'You know...humans are right...Our curses does sound stupid.'

Suddenly the office door slammed open, and the Warden, a unicorn, stormed out and bellowed down the corridor.

"Focus Ray!" he barked. "Get up here!"

True to form, he paid no attention to the dignified young pegasus mare guarding his door, except perhaps to give her shapely flank a quick glance as he ducked back inside his office. Again, pretty much as she had expected. Despite all of Equestria's efforts, the majority of ponies were not cut-out for sustained war, and magically trying to compel that just seemed to dim other mental faculties, such as the ability to ask 'who the buck are you?'

After a few seconds another unicorn, a Lieutenant who was presumably 'Focus Ray', rushed up from the lower levels and charged into the office.

"Sir!"

Spy could practically hear him salute.

"I need you to go into Ponyville and report to the barracks that we're now three bodies short of a full garrison," the warden ordered. "Also, we're going to need the legal team round to initiate next-of-kin proceedings for Grave Sight and Drum Green, and a newfoal liaison to drag our third casualty back to sanity."

"Yes Warden Star!" Focus Ray snapped back, and Spy heard him trot around as if to exit the office.

"Ahem, Focus Ray..." the Warden sighed, as if exasperated. "Your key?"

"Oh! Sorry Sir!" the lieutenant stuttered, and Spy heard something clatter onto the Warden's desk. She tilted her head quizzically. 'Key?'

Before she could cogitate further however, Focus Ray exited the office, nodding curtly towards her as he went. Well, at least he hadn't been checking out her…military assets. In fact, from the slightly distracted, narrow-focus aspect, she wouldn't be surprised if he was a newfoal…

Back inside the office however, she could now hear the Medic, Purple Heart, pacing around curiously.

"Is that…"

"Yes, this is it…" Warden Star answered, a note of smug pride lacing his voice, and Spy 'felt' the telepresent twinge of something being levitated. "One of the seven keygems that secure our…honoured guest in his – haha – penthouse suite."

"A dragon…" Purple Heart marveled. "A real live dragon... It must be quite the responsibility."

"Yes indeed…I keep my own one of the seven on my person at all times. Here it is…"

Another magical shimmer, and a long pause…

"A maturing dragon at my mercy…buck me Heart, but if that isn't something…"

Spy resisted the urge to put a hoof through her own forehead. 'Idiots! If you're going to brag, at least close the office door! Ray left it standing wide open when he left…who knows what dangerous enemy agents could be standing outside listening in…oh yeah, haha, Me…'

She rolled her neck, feeling a satisfying crack as she loosened her muscles, and then with a magical gesture, grabbed hold of her eavesdropping spell and pulled it inside-out. Now, instead of hearing everything that went on inside the office, she had soundproofed it…

Then, with a quick turn and a kick of the hooves, she entered the office and slammed the door shut behind her. Warden Star and Purple Heart looked at her in surprise.

Fifteen seconds of meticulous (and utterly silent) violence ensued.

'Two down, five to go…'

It stood to reason that Star would have distributed the seven keys to the highest ranking officers under his command, but to Trixie's surprise, the prison's now-sadly-deceased commander had shown a flair of creativity by sharing them out among a random selection of staff members.

Of course, he had then gone and written it all down in the event of him forgetting, though to be fair, he had probably never expected anyone else to have been going through his own personal files, which made for very interesting reading…

Right now, Star was lying on the desk, head impaled through a metal spike on which he had previously skewered paperwork. He looked faintly surprised. Purple Heart, who had not put up a fight, was simply unconscious.

Humming softly Spy flipped open one of her saddlebag's pockets and dumped every piece of documentation she could find into it, for later analysis. Sparkler Hooves had personally assured her that the enchantment on it rendered the pocket roughly the size of a small cottage. In the event that she was ever on the verge of capture, Spy had considered hiding herself inside it…

But that was not here or now…having sacked the office, she donned the Sweetie-Bell inspired disguise (which she was starting to think of as 'Guardspony Tulip Bell', a fresh young Cloudsdale mare who had enlisted with the 'horn-heads and mud-ponies' so as to defy her oppressively traditional pegasus family) and checked Star's list of staff trusted enough to hold onto Spike's key.

"Okay, so, first we have Quartermaster Vegan Stalks…"

Stalks, it had turned out, was a glorified cook-slash-janitor, and not a very good one; in fact, 'Tulip' was not sure if the large black cauldron she had half-drowned him in was meant to be a mop-bucket or tonight's dinner. Ultimately she had decided it was meant to be a soup of some sort, and turning the heat down to a low simmer, she had pocketed Stalks key and rotated him so that he could breath, with the amazing visual effect that he appeared to be bathing in the goop. Just before he had passed out he had wet himself from terror – she wondered if it would improve the flavor…

Next on her list was 'Warrant Officer Bright Spark' – true to his name however he was no fool (or at least, not the garden variety of such), and quickly recognized that Tulip was not on the payroll. She had presented herself as behind a greenhorn fresh off the boat and, instead of batting her eyes, had affected an air of desperately eager professionalism, which seemed to win him over, and before Tulip knew it, he was giving her a guided tour of the staff facilities as he oversaw her induction into the staff. Ah well, so long as it took her to the last three keys…

Sergeant Lucky Card was, it turned out, taking a nap in her bunk when Spark showed Tulip the mares' barracks. Tulip had quickly produced Spy's stiletto, and, while Spark was finding an empty bunk for her to take up residence in, slammed it through Card's skull, killing her instantly, before she pocketed the next key. As they left, Spark waved good-bye to the corpse, not realizing what had happened.

"Card's an alright sort…" he said softly. "But she has trouble sleeping through to due to stress from the European Front…asked for a backwater posting to get some peace. She's a bloody hero though, so we tolerate her cat-naps so long as she gets some proper rest…"

Tulip felt a moment's pang, and wondered if she'd have enjoyed serving under Card. Well, she had given her the peace she wanted…

Spark was nothing if not efficient, and after assigning her a bunk took her straight down to the armory to get her armor properly fitted ("It's hanging off you like you stole it from someone else!" he had chastised).

Garrison Armorer Cold Steel was working at his forge as they entered. Spark gave him a passing glance, while Tulip simply cast a telekinetic shove, knocking Steel off his hooves and into the forge. Worse than his screams had been the smell…

Feigning shock, Tulip had screamed, and Spark had rushed forward to pull Steel off the gridiron, hollering for water. She obliged, and after dousing Steel had used the empty bucket to brain Spark across the back of his skull, knocking him out. Two more keys acquired cleanly; Spark was simply out cold, and Steel had passed out from shock, his wounds neatly cauterized and sealed by the same heat which had caused them. A quick sanitizing spell ensured he'd not catch an infection…Trixie and Blue Spy did not give a damn, but Tulip could never stand the sight of burnt flesh, not since she was a little filly and her father had scaled himself by accident…

…before she left, she had taken Spark's advice and fitted herself with properly sized armor. Not only might it come in useful for Spy sometime in the future, but if Guardspony Tulip Bell was going to defy her family by joining the ground-pounders' armed forces, then she was going to do it with style…

It would be the last name on her list that gave her some trouble. As in find a way to get him away from view, given how he was fluttering about in the sky over the prison's exercise yard! If only her wings were real, and not just a pair of illusions with all the substance of morning mist.

"Associate Warden Sir Frozen Blades!" she saluted, shouting up to the pale pegasus who held the last key. "I'm Private Tulip Bell, late of Cloudsdale, with an urgent message!"

Blades, a rare member of the Pegasus Aristocracy, touched down and returned the salute. "At ease, daughter of Cloudsdale. What's the problem?"

"Sir! Warden Star has told me that Queen Celestia is en-route to speak with our…uh…'esteemed guest'…"

Blades' wings had gone abruptly rigid and his eyes were wide as saucers. "Impossible…any request for access to the dragon would have come through the proper channels!"

His tone turned both suspicious and angry. "What game do you think you're playing, Private!?"

Tulip had felt tears coming, and struggled hard to hold them back. "Sir…it's no game…hic-hic-sob. The Warden, Warden said to give you these…"

Carefully, she turned, and with her mouth opened her saddlebag to show the six gems. Blade's alabaster coat became if anything, even whiter. He believed her now.

"What exactly did Warden Star say?" he hissed, eyes narrowed.

"He said…hic…that Her Highness was coming immediately, that she had a way to…to turn the Dragon to our True Harmony…"

Tulip's mind settled on that thought, and a comfortably savage glow settled in her stomach, and she grinned toothily, shedding the last tears.

"…she's going to turn the Dragon on all of Equestria's enemies! Warden Star wants you to prepare to release our new Knight while he welcomes Her Highness. He says that this night will guarantee victory for Equestria…"

It was all a lie of course that a single dragon could turn the war, but some part of Tulip believed it, so Blades believed it as well.

"This way Private – bring the gems and keep silent!"

Frozen Blades led her down the hall, showing her straight to wherever Spike was located. Tulip was quite pleased with that little accomplishment, as Warden Star had not written down where exactly the drake was contained in the refurbished fortress. She was a little sad though, because she could feel herself slipping away, and Blue Spy coming back to the surface...ah well, no-doubt she'd get to come out and play again soon.

It had been, Tulip decided, a nice birthday…

Blades had been ranting joyously about what horrors would befall all the traitors and monkeys throughout this little persona-transition, and had not noticed the mare beside him gradually shifting her posture and gait; head held higher and prouder, steps more confident and assured, and a small smirk crawling onto her face. Ah well, it would not have done him any good if he had.

Finally, the two of them came to a halt before an unobtrusive door. Blue Spy, now wholly herself again, glanced at it in some disbelief.

"The Mares' Restroom?"

"Yes…" Blades smirked, opening the door for her. "Rather cunning, isn't it?"

Spy wondered if he was aware of how somepony had evidently lifted the idea from the Harry Potter novels. How very curious, and human…

With the two of them inside and the door bolted shut, Blades he had triggered a secret trapdoor which opened out and down into the depths of Equus.

"The Dragon Dungeon…" he said with some pride. "Here we keep the most deadly creature ever to threaten pony kind, and soon our greatest weapon!"

Spy gave a grateful nod. "Thank You Sir Blades. Equestria and Earth thank you for your service…"

Blades barely had time to cock an eyebrow before he found himself lifted and thrown through the air. Unable to fly in the confined space he slammed hard into the washroom mirror, shattering it and the sink below as he fell. Groaning he struggled to pick himself up, but with a flick of her horn Spy hurled him into the toilet stalls, before levitated up dozens of sharp shards of glass, wood and porcelain. Frozen barely had time to look up before she brought them down with vicious force.

He didn't even scream. Somewhere in the back of Spy's mind however, she could hear newborn Tulip whimpering, and the Great and Powerful Trixie scowling with distaste. Foals, what did they know?

Trotting up to the corpse, her hooves carefully hoofing around spreading blood, Spy found the final key. Pocketing it with its fellows she smiled in triumph, before producing the Nautilus shell Fancy Pants had gifted her back in Canterlot. Time for the Endgame act, and then she'd perhaps be able to rest for a while. Let Trixie run things up front…hearts and hooves but she felt so tired…

"Doctor, are you there?" she hissed into the mouth of the disguised communicator, ignoring the smell of blood that was filling the room.

"I'm here." Doctor Whooves answered. "You my dear have got to move, our contacts in Ponyville told me that a Lieutenant from the Prison arrived half an hour ago."

"Hrm, that would be Focus Ray…" she tutted, picking up a shard of glass and checking her mane. Maybe she should cut it short….no, that was Trixie thinking, focus Spy, focus…

"Yes, well Lieutenant Ray is already heading back towards you, and from the look of it, in quite a rush, and he's bringing reinforcements!"

"Damn...understood. Lock on to my signal then, I will get inside and take care of freeing Spike."

"You have ten minutes, Spy. Anymore and we will be pushing it."

"Got it, Blue Spy out," she signed off, before trotting to the lip of the dungeon. Cautiously, she descended into the bowels of the fortress, and eventually into a vast open space hewn from rough rock…from the look of it she was deep below even the foundations. The viaduct staircase descending into the chamber was old, but the dozens of spears lining the wall, facing in like tank-traps were most certainly new…

…not that they were necessary. The creature chained down in the center of the room was far too big to escape through the tiny staircase…either he was much smaller when he arrived, or teleportation magic was used to transport him into this very…very large cell.

At the sight, Spy's resolve wavered…

"Oh, Spike," Trixie whispered.

Spike had grown, drastically. When she had last been in Ponyville (and admittedly, not on good terms with anyone), Trixie had observed a small, foal-sized reptile that was blatantly crushing on the Element of Generosity.

Now…he had grown. More than twice as long as a man was tall, and sheathed in deep purple scales that, although dirty, still reflected the torchlight with a dull luster. From his back swept two muscular wings, these had been savagely pierced to allow for two manacles to clamp around the supporting bones.

Slowly Trixie circled him, coming round towards his face. He lay on his side, fore and hind limbs shackled together, and his neck and tail bound just as tight to the floor. A steel muzzle was riveted around his mouth.

Slowly, she counted; a lock for each wing, two for the paired-off legs, one each for his neck, tail and mouth. Seven locks, seven keys.

It was brutal, painful and humiliating, but it was not the worst of it. Spike had been mutilated; deep scars crisscrossed his face, and the tips of his wings had been nailed to the walls! As a final insult, iron shafts an inch across had been forced THROUGH his hands and feet, rooting him to the ground. Thick, burgundy-colored blood was splattered all over his limbs and the ground, along with far older, crusty, long-dried stuff, and he was covered in a mixture of dirt and his own excrement…

…except for around his eyes, where the filth had been washed clean by tears.

Trixie's legs suddenly felt as soft as rubber, and she sat with a horrified gasp. Wet tears of her own ran down her face. This was worse than the newfoals, worse than the war. This was a life brutalized and tortured, by Equestria…

Equestria. Loving and tolerant...

Equestria. Peaceful and forgiving…

Equestria no more…

The resolve of Blue Spy was not enough. With her, Tulip, the pegasus workmare, the Canterlot snob and a dozen other personas all grieving inside of her, Trixie sobbed uncontrollably. Crying for Spike, crying for a homeland degraded beyond recognition, for lives lost (how many had she killed and maimed today alone), and crying for her own battle-torn, fractured psyche…

Spike, who it seemed had long ago retreated into some inner mental refuge, did not respond to her howls, except to cry a little harder himself; huge, smoking tears ran down his elegant snout and steamed on the dungeon floor.

Something flitted past Trixie's vision, something white and dart-shaped. It landed at her hooves; a paper…no, a parchment aeroplane. Senses dull, mind uncomprehending, she unfolded it and read the words scribbled on the surface.

TO ALL GARRISONS. THE BLUE SPY IS IN EQUESTRIA. BE ON ALERT FOR STRANGE OR UNFAMILIAR MARES. IF ENCOUNTERED, DESTROY AT ONCE!

She felt a magical 'zing' behind her and instinctively rolled to one side as a massive spear embedded itself in the ground where she had just been sitting. Blue Spy…she HAD to be Blue Spy right now, threw up a shielding spell, and another spear shattered against it.

"Oh great…" she scowled. "The newfoal."

Lieutenant Focus Ray magically hefted another spear out of the wall and poised with it. Spy strengthened her shield, gazing at him through the translucent field of magical force.

"Attention All Hoofs!" he bellowed aloud, a gem on his armor taking up the shout and amplifying it across the whole castle. "This is Acting Warden Focus Ray! We have been infiltrated by an Earthling spy; all guards are to form on me in the Dragon Dungeon immediately to subdue the race-traitor; all other staff shall prepare to receive reinforcements from the Ponyville Regiment at the Main Gate!"

Orders given, Ray squatted back on his haunches and steadied his position on the stairs, blocking Spy's only visible path of retreat. To his credit, he did not gloat or brag; but maintained a steely cool quite different to his earlier Newfoalish eagerness. Spy wondered if it was military conditioning, or a trace of his fettered personality shining through.

Ah, it didn't matter anyway. Dropping her shield for a second, Spy rolled sideways behind the bulk of Spike's body. Ray, his unicorn magic giving him precision control over his spear, loosed it in a curving arc that bent behind the dragon and impacted into the ground with a solid 'thunk'…

"Missed-me!" a multitude of voices, all Spy's, chorused, and Ray blinked as the chamber suddenly filled with no less than a dozen illusionary duplicates of the saboteur; parading in formation around and on top of the comatose dragon. His horn flared with combat-disciplined magic, and a hoof-full of gravel swept off the floor in a wave, dowsing the illusions. A coating of dust would easily show up the real traitor…

…every one of them vanished from sight. Another trick.

Then, from out of the shadows a bolt of magic fired past Ray's head. The magical blast spattered itself on the roof of the tunnel leading up to the rest of the castle, plasma clicking on the naked rock.

"You missed" Ray said softly, even as he hurled his fresh spear wordlessly towards her location. Pulling a very impressive backflip, Spy launched herself out of the dark and dodged almost certain impalement.

"No, no I didn't," she laughed, voice echoing off the worlds. Blinking, and suddenly aware of a sinister sizzling sound, Ray turned to look behind him, and saw that Spy's burst of magic had in fact been very carefully aimed…

…to ignite the fuses on several orange tubules glued to the arch of the tunnel.

He threw himself down the stairs just as the first detonated, triggering the rest in a sympathetic reaction and collapsing the tunnel. The blast wave picked him up and hurled him down to the floor of the cavern. Recovering in a roll he managed to recover his stance. Then, seizing a pair of spears he held them tight to his barrel and turned, surveying the chamber around him.

He did not notice a lone figure, her coat dimmed to the dusky tones of the cave's walls and floor, hidden in the patch of flickering shadow between two of the guttering torches. Slowly, keeping her magic dim, she levitated out her two best blades; the stiletto treated with hydra steroids, and the machete impregnated with manticore venom. Her magic tensed, the two knives drew back as if tensed on the strings of an invisible bow, and then, she let them fly!

TWHACK!

The machete, doused in manticore venom, hurled straight into the shaft of one of Ray's spears: he had thrown it up at the last second. The stiletto however struck his helmet with enough force to knock it off.

"Buck!" Ray hissed, blinking away a rivulet of blood trickling into one of his eyes and using his own magic to arm himself with the machete. As her magic yanked the stiletto back to her, Spy briefly examined the edge of the blade and saw no trace of red – none of the steroid had gotten into his bloodstream!

"SPY!" Ray roared, and this time he did not bother with spears but instead, with the machete hovering beside him, charged straight down the stairs and engaged her in single combat.

"Come on sir, let's begin!" she smirked, hefting her stiletto as he closed on her, the machete swinging around in a furious arc.

Hoot met hoof. Envenomed blade met steroid-coated blade in a frenzy of steel and violence that would have done Hamlet and Laertes proud. Each swooped and dived the others blows, bucking and punching as the two knives blocked and feinted around them.

Then, Spy spun around in a whirlwind kick she learned from a Castilian acrobat-turned-mercenary and got a solid punch on Ray's snout. As he staggered, she leapt in, grabbed the stiletto out of the air with her teeth and snapped her head up from left-to-right, driving the tip of the knife into the sensitive tissue exposed around his amour's foreleg openings.

'Hamlet, Hamlet, thou art slain…'

Ray shrieked in pain as the blade buried deep in his barrel, and Spy slipped behind him and bucked into his back with all the strength she could muster. There was a sickening snap, and he slumped sideways onto the cobblestones. Weakly he tried to raise himself, only to realize his hind legs were numb. And inside him, he could feel his heart beginning to race…

"How…" he groaned. "How dare you…you smuggle human blades and death-sticks into Equestria! How…the barrier should have, kept us pure…"

Something was tossed in his direction, bouncing off his snout with a dull thump. Opening his eyes he saw another of the little explosive devices that had brought down the tunnel roof – it was a mixture of what looked like wet wood-pulp, stuffed into a hollowed-out carrot.

"Entirely home-grown materials; this little toy was made here, just like me," he heard Spy say disdainfully, before she slowly trotted back around to his front. "Sawdust soaked with a distillation of pine-oil that's been processed with aqua fortis, spirit of niter and sodium sulphide. The result, before impregnation into the sawdust, is a substance Equestria has used to color clothing for decades. They call it 'Yellow Dye #6', but in your last life, you would have known it as 'trinitrotoluene' – TNT. It's amazing what timid little Carrot Top learned to do with an over-the-counter alchemy set."

Ray coughed, and rolled the device over with his snout, examining it curiously as sweat beaded on his head and his breathing accelerated. Healing spells and charms on his body and armor were working overtime to purify his bloodstream, but the Hydra steroids were already settling into the tissues of his heart…

"A carrot-stick-of-dynamite. Ha!" he laughed. "Crude, but effective. Monkey-me used to stuff pipe-bombs with this stuff back in the Real IRA…" he gave a horrified little shudder as his heart flailed, and then focused himself again. "What did you use for a firing cap?"

"The core of a retail firework…" Spy said, voice now cold. "When I want a remote detonation, a gemstone enchanted as a Spark Talisman does just as well."

She was now poised right in front of him, her disguise melting away to reveal a blue mare in a domino mask and a stolen suit of armor. For all the chill of her words, the anger radiating off her was almost blisteringly.

"So,a real IRA?" she seethed. "I learned about you during the European Exodus. Fought alongside some of them, and killed more than a few too. You guys sacrificed lives and love for Irish independence, but now you're kowtowing to a Monarch that has destroyed Ireland and Britain alike! I might be a traitor to the monster that calls itself Equestria, but I'm still loyal to what it once stood for. You're a miserable wretch who has abandoned his entire species!"

Ray managed a little laugh, ignoring her as his limbs began to shudder.

"Oh I used to be very good at killing, but I'm all better now; I save lives, and I'm going to save you too, Blue Spy!"

Slowly he dipped his head so that his horn was resting inside the tip of the improvised explosive device, right where the firing cap would go. With a great effort he got his breathing under control, even as his heart continued to thunder away inside him…

"So all I need to do to set this off is…visualize a magical spark?" he said, the honeyed tones in his voice layered with steel.

Spy froze, cursing herself at a foolish error, no-doubt from that egotistical bragard Trixie's need to gloat. She should have just snapped Ray's neck and been done with it.

"Sit down," Ray ordered calmly. "No movements, and no magic, or I'll blow you to Tartarus, and myself to the Goddess's loving embrace."

Caught in a bind, Spy warily sat her plot down. From above could be heard the shouts of frantic labor as the castle's guards, and no doubt the reinforcements from Ponyville, struggled furiously to clear the tunnel.

"We're going to talk until they get down here," Ray said gently, soothingly, as if talking to a foal. "And when they do, you're going to happily come with us to be made better."

"I'm fine!" Spy replied haughtily. "It's you who needs help."

"No," he replied simply, with the conviction of a true believer. "I know that's not true, otherwise how else would I be at peace? Back…back then, I was angry, so angry, and hurting. Driving my rage into bombings and attacks, and then weeping and praying for those innocents I'd killed in the name of Freedom. Just an animal lashing out and then curling up to lick its wounds. Full of doubt, uncertainty, and questions no-one could answer, not even the false god I prayed too. Now, I'm truly me, and I feel none of that pain. Right and wrong are so clear and perfect, and I bask in the love of the One True Goddess every second. I have certainty, purpose, and peace, and I know you do too. After all, it's in our nature as ponies…"

"You're nothing of the sort!" Spy snapped, lowering her head to look eye-to-eye with him across the carrot-bomb. "No sentient being lives free of fears, hopes, dreams and doubts, not without some serious brainwashing or sheer self-delusion. You, with you sanctimonious serenity, are just a golem programmed to not question its' masters, hardcoded to get a positive emotional kick every time you obey unthinkingly. True ponies, true individuals, are free to question their lives, free to fear, free to doubt, and free to find their own purpose."

"True ponies are gentle, and honest, and sweet…" he said with insufferable kindness. "You've just caught a little of the madness that once infected me, but you'll be alright soon."

"Um, hello, have you met my alter-ego? She's called Trixie Lulamoon, lived her entire life in Equestria, and was an insufferable ass long before that Bitch with the large flank fucked reality with her horn!"

"She is a Goddess! She is your Holy Mother!" Ray shrieked, his eyes shrinking to pinpricks, and Spy felt a mental sigh of relief; for a minute his conviction had actually scared her, but seeing his hardwired emotional outburst neatly put a pin in that moment's doubt. Looking at it from another angle, it was possible to take that as confirmation that she was truly free…after all, when you couldn't feel the pain, you could only be dead…

…and it made her wonder, just how much else was hard-coded into Ray. Summoning her courage, she rose to her hooves.

"So yeah…I'm just going to stand here and goad you until you take your horn out of that carrot in a moment of impassioned stupidity."

"Sit down!" Ray shouted, driving his horn almost into the carrot-stick-of-dynamite's core. "I'm warning you, I'll destroy us both!"

"No, you won't" Spy said haughtily. "You've decided that I'm worth saving, and I think that means, in the convoluted web of spellcraft that governs your mind, you're not allowed to kill me. It's all about the parameters. If I was a human you'd want to 'potion' me, or in a pinch, maybe kill me. Pony traitors, fighting against you in a field of combat, might also be valid targets. The Geis you're bound too under the charter of the guard might be potent enough to override it, if couched in the right words, but that sheet of parchment said to destroy me on sight, yet here we are having a friendly chat. Here, here inperfect Equestria, we're just two ponies having an argument that will ultimately be solved by the Power of Friendship; or at least, that is what your subconscious is telling you."

She trotted around him in a circle, eyeing his mangled spine before coming back to his face. "Celly's a raging hormonal bitch, did that do anything for you? No? Okay, what if I called her a sociopathic, genocidal psychotic dictator, whose actual ability to empathize with her subjects, let alone genuinely care for them, withers more and more every day?"

Ray's face was twitching, expression fluctuating as if caught in a seizure. It was nothing like when she and Cadence had deprogrammed Green Fields; that had been a pony's true nature rebelling against a bond that had been placed upon him. This, this was software fighting itself, a decision-making-schematic on the verge of collapsing, even as his body succumbed to the toxins polluting it. She almost expected to see the Blue Screen of Death flash up in his eyes, but his willpower was extraordinary.

"She's good! She's PERFECT! She's loving and SWEET and HOSANNA IN THE HIGHEST! GLORIA! GLORIA! GLORIA IN EXCELSIS!"

Focus Ray was frothing at the mouth now, his screams becoming pained howls.

"Laudámus te, benedícimus te, adorámus te, glorificámus te, grátias ágimus tibi propter magnam glóriam tuam!"

The babbled words were Latin, a prayer that once he must have learned as a boy attending Mass. Except then, with a manic gleam in his eye, Ray twisted the message on its head.

"Domine CELESTIA, Regina Caelestis! CELESTIA Matris Omnipotens! WE PRAISE THEE, WE BLESS THEE, AND WE GIVE THANKS TO CELESTIA FOR HER GREAT GLORY!"

With an agonised scream, he threw himself at her, and the carrot-bomb went flying. Armoured hooves thrown forward, Ray drove them into her neck with larynx-crushing force...

...and went straight through her.

As the illusionary mare dissipated, Spy, the real Spy, caught the hurled bomb with her magic and stepped out from the shadows. Ray meanwhile, landed hard, the impact folding his body weight up and around, shattering what might have remained of his spine. Screaming and howling like a broken beast his hooves pawing at the ground as if feeling for the stick of dynamite.

"Where is it?Where is it?!...mother, I've failed you...Mother, MOTHER!"

The pain in the words was heart-wrenchingly real, and Spy wondered if it was a scream from the golem that thought it was a pony, or the horror of a man pleading for deliverance from the nightmare he was living. She shivered in horror...

...and Trixie took over. Trixie who, for all her faults, was indeed a good soul at heart, but who still had only the most basic idea of how to support and comfort someone. Slowly she knelt by Ray and stroked his mane, a simple and almost worthless gesture; just like the one she had offered Green Fields.

'Stoppit Lulamoon!' Spy hissed sibilant. 'He's dying anyway; what good does comforting him do?'

'We could help him,' Tulip suggested. 'Take him back to New York, keep him alive; fix him, like you fixed Green Fields.'

'That was a pony! This is an animal that only loves the Tyrant that forced it into life, let it inhabit someone's transfigured corpse!'

'He's human inside!'

'He's an ensorcelled shocktrooper, all the way down! If he had children as a man, he'd give them over to be ponyfied, with a smile! And what would he do to us if he could?'

'You don't know…'

'I know, Guardspony Bell! You're not a day old, even if you have our memories! I've fought him, and creatures just like him! They have no compassion for humanity, or its allies! They would feed Stephan that purple potion, disfigure him, and then order him to kill us, and he would do it, because he'd just be another one of THEM! Another smiling, happy, xenophobic ZOMBIE!'

Tulip sobbed softly as Spy directed the full force of her 'thoughts' back at Trixie.

'Snap his neck. trample on it and put the beast out of its misery. Do it now, do it now!'

"No…" Trixie answered, levitating a small stone out of her saddlebag. "I won't be like them…I'll give him mercy if I can. If he's going to die, then I'll comfort him; but if he can be saved, if just one of them can be saved, then I'll move Equus and Earth to do it!"

The stone was a bezoar, a gall-stone taken from a Chinese ox, treated by Zecora to bring out its ancient alchemical properties; the ability to nullify all poisons and toxins. She hoped it would work on the hormonal excretions of mythological creatures as well.

…she noticed something, she felt... a prick no worse than a bee sting… slowly she looked down, and saw Ray, eyes crazed and wide with his veins pulsing with every heartbeat, had taken up her machete with his faltering magic, and slowly pressed its tip into her chest.

'I am dead, Horatio…'

Ray's body was on the verge of death, his magic so weak that he'd only been able to get a half-inch of the knife into her chest, and yet, that was enough…the machete was doused with Hydra venom; she had seen to that herself.

'See! You're an idiot!'Spy seethed, and taking momentary control she lashed out with her free hoof and crushed Ray's horn into a mess of shattered cartilage and alicornial tissue. The pain must have been blinding, and his screams once again jolted Trixie back into control, even as she felt the cold death of the venom spreading through her…

The bezoar had fallen on the floor. She tried to pick it up with her magic, but the venom was already affecting her nervous system, and her horn could only spark feebly. Beside her Ray had gone into convulsions as the steroids finally accelerated his heart to bursting point; Limbs heavy, Trixie bent down and picked up the magical purative with her teeth…

'Swallow! Quickly!'Spy shrieked.'If you die all of us in here check out with you! What about Steph- No! What are you doing!'

Ignoring her, Trixie had dropped the bezoar into Ray's mouth and slumped forward so that her hooves rested around his mouth, forcing his jaws shut and prompting him to swallow…

…he gave a shuddering lurch, and then relaxed, eyes still wide and rolling, but limbs still…it had worked.

'You foal! You should have taken it yourself! Now we're all going to die here because of you!'

'Oh shut up!' Tulip snapped back. 'Help's coming for us, and they'll be bringing medics to help Spike! Trixie's a good and honest pony, and she's going to be just fine!'

"You're going to get better, Lieutenant…" Trixie said, the words hesitant. "There's good ponies, goodpeople who'll mend your back, and free your soul…"

The sounds of the tunnel being cleared were coming closer. A particularly large boulder tumbled down the staircase, and a pinprick beam of light shone in from above.

"You'll never escape…" Ray chuckled brokenly. "We'll win…we always win, because She wills it so…"

Trixie shook her head, a wry smile playing on her lips as she felt an unseen force ripple through the cave.

"No…we're leaving here, right now."

A sudden sizzling sound filled the room, and she looked up just a glowing column of energy zapped down from the ceiling, quickly coalescing into a freestanding metal structure, an old New York City phone booth Dinky Whooves had scavenged out of a junkyard. Other than an illuminated panel across the door-jamb declaring 'Phone', the only markings it bore was the graffitied assertion that'Wyld Stallyns R Xellent!' As Trixie sighed in relief, the phone booth's shutter-doors banged open, releasing a large quantity of smoke and an Earth Pony stallion.

"Well, not quite the perfect maiden flight for the new TARDIS, but reasonable enough. The new girl's breaking in quite well. Oh, hello Trixie, Spy not at the wheel right now?" said Doctor Whooves, an easy-going smirk tugging at his lips.

Then his eyes slid to the broken creature in Trixie's forelegs, and the immense, brutalized dragon looming behind them.

"Gallopfrey and Zarquon! My poor boy, what have they done to you?" he hissed, before spinning his head around and shouting into the phone-booth. "Redheart, Tenderheart, Med-Team, QUICK!"

Shapes, comfortingly familiar ponies poured out of the doors, and Trixie sighed in relief, allowing herself to rest. Somepony rushed up to her, and she managed to gasp out the word 'poison'. Another bezoar was forced down her throat, and instantly she felt her magic flare to life and the creeping numbness dissipate from her limbs. Take THAT Blue Spy...

Ray was still fighting weakly in her grasp, and as she tried to pull him into a recovery position she saw his eyes alight on Doctor Whooves.

"Time Turner…Most Wanted Stallion Number One!" he said mechanically, and Trixie had no time to react before he bucked her off.

'And now Lulamoon? Will you let me go?'

'…yes.'

"Doctor!" Spy shouted as she rolled into a battle stance. "Retreat, now!"

Too late. Despite his shattered horn, Ray's magic, strengthened by his will and burning bright enough to blind, seized hold of one of the spears embedded in the wall and hurled it straight through the tawny stallion's shoulder. Ponyville's lord of all things timey-wimey fell to the ground, eyes staring in disbelief at the shaft piercing him.

"Oh my…" he said, and the shock hit him hard enough to knock him out before he could even scream.

"Hey! Arsehole…" Spy shouted before anyone else could be skewered, pulling a new disguise on, one that would almost certainly grab Ray's attention; her mane trimmed itself and her build slimmed, as her palette shifted to two-tone green…

"…eyes on me!" 'Lyra Heartstrings' finished defiantly, parading herself in a charcoal stab-vest, the PHL crest proudly printed on one sleeve and a golden harp resplendent on her flank. "I'm the one you want!"

Like a moth to a flame, Ray's maddened focus slid straight to her, as did his attacks. 'Lyra' glanced sideways and saw that trusty, sturdy Sparkler Whooves had sprinted out of the TARDIS and thrown her own magical shield up, protecting Spike and everyone around him in an amethyst skein of magic. She felt a fond smile tug at her lips, and then she was jumping, dodging and flipping as Ray hurled spear after spear in her direction, plasma arcing from his ruined horn and stirring up a storm of wild magic; rocks, gravel, stalactites and anything else lying around getting sucked into his whirlwind of death.

"We are kin!" Ray roared, his voice laced with authority, assertion, and more of that same smug, unwavering sense of righteousness. "We are Ponies! We shouldn't be fighting one another! We should be fighting the humans!"

"WE ARE NOTHING ALIKE!" 'Lyra' screamed, her horn blazing with rage. "YOU SPEAK AS IF YOU'VE BEEN A PONY ALL YOUR LIFE! YOU ARE JUST ONE BROKEN SOUL AMONG THE MILLIONS THAT WERE CONVERTED! THE GRIFFONS ARE MORE KIN TO ME THAN YOU ARE!"

"So be it!" Ray screamed.

'Oh Shit', 'Lyra', Spy, Trixie and Tulip thought as one, as with a blaze of magical strength, Ray's focused magic summoned every spear in the room, and assimilated them into a single colossal weapon.

"DIE AND EMBRACE TARTARUS, RACE TRAITOR!"

The mega-spear fired forward, driven at the back by a magical impeller not so different to a rocket. 'Lyra' felt time slow down as it thundered towards her eyes…

'Bon-Bon…' she thought, an alien affection invading her mind, prompting a reflex transformation…

"Stephan…" Trixie whispered, ears drooping as she embraced her death…

Then something huge, scaly, and purple filled her vision, and she blinked…time smashed back into normal speed, and the air was filled with a bellowing, animalistic roar…and raining fragments of wood, all the size of a splinter.

Trixie swallowed, and trotted back two paces, before falling on her butt. Spike, who until this point had done nothing but silently cry, had ripped his hands and feet free from the nails anchoring him to the floor, stretched his restraints to their utmost give, and thrown himself into the path of the spear…

…which had shattered into splinters on impact with his draconic hide.

There was a long moment where all Trixie could do was breathe, but then someone was shaking her, asking her to break the magical locks still manacling Spike's limbs and extremities. She had wordlessly levitated the gems out of her saddlebag, and within a minute chains and locks began to fall to the ground. Where magic did not work, oxy-acetylene cutting torches did.

Finally she looked around. Two medi-ponies were dragging Doctor Whooves (bleeding and unconscious, but still alive) into the TARDIS, while Spike simply lay limp on his side, chest heaving. Beyond, past him, she could hear Focus Ray wailing in despair.

Slowly, she trotted around to Spike's far side. Ray, tears pouring down his face and horn sparking, was desperately trying to grab hold of the particles of wood and metal that lay everywhere, trying to form some weapon, to carry out his programming. It was not funny, nor was it sad.

It was downright heartbreaking. Unseen, unnoticed by the maddened stallion who was once a terrorist, Trixie came beside him and cast a sleeping spell. His mutterings and cries broke off mid-sentence, and he fell peacefully to the ground. In the back of her mind, Blue Spy still screamed for her to stamp on his neck and give him true peace, but Trixie ignored her. She was tired of listening to Spy's rage and pain, and for a moment, just wanted to care…without anypony getting hurt this time.

"Your fight is over, rest now. I don't know how long it will take, but we will help you. You, and everypony…everyone…that this war has touched."

She bit back tears. Maybe, at the end of it all, she could get some help for herself. What was happening to her?

Composing herself, but keeping Spy firmly under wraps, she turned and looked towards Spike. The med team was working on him, pony medics trying to stem blood flowing from reopened wounds, injecting antibiotics through needles designed to tranquilize full-grown elephants. Another team, unicorn technicians mostly, were jacking his limbs up with a portable car-lift, so as to slide him onto a wheeled flatbed trolley, while Redheart and Tenderheart were gathered around his face, gently trying to rouse him.

"Spike!...Spike dear...Open your ey-" Redheart started, before crying out when she saw he was nearly missing an eye. "Please Spike, wake up."

The mighty being twitched at the voices, groaning as his single good eye opened, its coloration a brilliant emerald green that glowed deep with inner fire. "Re...Red Heart?"

As he focused on the mare standing before him, he looked away, trying to flee but too weak to do so, he was still resisting against whatever tried to break him. "N-no...Leave me alone...I will never...join Celestia's...armies..."

"Spike?" a new, familiar voice called, and Derpy Whooves glided out of the TARDIS's doors, backlit like an angel, and touched down gently next to him, her expression the definition of kindness and gentility.

"Derpy?" the distraught Redheart pressed. "What about your husband? He's hurt, he needs you."

"The Doctor will be fine Reddy," Derpy said softly. "He's survived worse than a spear through the leg; much worse…"

Then the grey mare walked up to Spike and embraced his snout, googley gold eyes peering into emerald green. "It's really us Spikey. Remember me? Derpy? You know my whole family; Sparkler used to give you leftover gems from her business?"

"Illusions..."He whispered, his eye closing once more. "Nothing more..."

"Hmph!" Trixie forced her way forward, her horn glowing to rip off her domino mask and hairtie, allowing her powder-blue mane to fall around her face in a silvery waterfall. "I am hardly an illusion, 'Number One Assistant'. Tell me, is the Great and Powerful Trixie a mare so weak-willed as to fall prey to Celly's feeble magicks!"

"Wha-what?" His eye opened wide. "Tr...Trixie?"

Then, softly, he chuckled. "Oh you're real…no-one else could imitate that blowhard ego…oh heavens…it was all real…"

His immense chest heaved in a sulphurous covered sob, and several of the ponies embraced his huge snout, stroking and comforting as he was finally hoisted onto the gurney and rolled slowly towards the open doors of the TARDIS.

"It's us Spike...all of us, it's really us." Redheart cried, tears of joy falling from her eyes. "We've been searching for you for these past three years...we're so sorry..."

"Spike," Derpy said softly. "What happened to bring you here? Was it Twilight who sealed you away, or Rarity? We thought at first one of them was protecting you, but then Trixie learned of you and Rarity's attempted escape."

Spike snorted, then gave a painful laugh. "Rarity…Twilight. The both of them were so good, all of them were so good; before Celestia took them 'into her confidence'. I should have seen it coming with Twilight, but when Rarity was taken, I knew…"

Confusion was worn on all the faces of the ponies in the room. "What...What do you mean?"

"Rarity fought tooth and nail to escape Equestria, plotted and schemed and traded away everything she had to protect me. Sent Sweetie-Belle into hiding and wiped her own memories so that she could never betray her little sister. On the boat, when they came for us, she promised me that they'd never change her heart…but then, they brought her to visit me here…brought the THING they'd made of her, and all the Elements of Harmony. They saw me hear, heard my cries, and laughed…Fluttershy threw me crumbs of bread while tittering at how 'spunky' I was…they weren't my…family, they were perversions, victims that had been…" he shuddered, fresh tears flowing. "…violated…"

"What happened Spike?" Trixie demanded. "What was done to them?"

He couldn't answer. Instead, his huge muscles heaved and he began to shake violently, whistling jets of flame venting through his teeth and nostrils.

"He's going into Hypovolemic shock!" Tender Heart shouted. "He's too weak to contain his inner fire! Derpy, we need to get him into surgery within minutes! Now!"

"Double time everyone!" Trixie shouted, hustling them forward as ponies and humans alike wrestled Spike's immense bulk through the phone booth's doors. As they did however, a deep resounding gong resounded from the depths of the arcane time-machine.

"That's the Cloister Bell!" Derpy shouted. "Something's resonating with the TARDIS' power supply, the Eye of Harmony!"

"What does that mean?" Trixie answered, shouting to be heard over the resounding booms of the Cloister Bell.

"It's like a Master Alarm, warning that something BIG is happening, or coming!"

At that moment, the debris blocking the tunnel to the surface exploded downwards, obliterated by the force of an immense fiery bird of fire, a Phoenix in flight.

"Philomena!" Spike shuddered through his spasms. "That's it…the herald before the storm. CELESTIA IS COMING!"

Troops were pouring in now, and several trained PHL members answered in force, covering everyone's retreat with their modified saddle weapons. A well-placed flash-bang brought down Philomena, just as Redheart and Tenderheart forced Spike's serpentine tail through the doors of the TARDIS.

"Let's go, let's go!" Trixie shouted, urging that everyone fall back. Then, her eyes alit on Focus Ray, unconscious and broken in the corner…

…she did it without thinking, throwing herself forward and triggering another disguise, one that was fresh and young and full of courageous defiance.

In just two steps, Trixie Lulamoon gave way to Tulip Bell, who spread her wings and flew.

Ponies, both PHL and Royal Guards alike, moved out of the way as she swooped, rolled, pirouetting around spell-fire and hurled projectiles, scattering carrot-bombs from her saddlebags and impaling them into the walls. Then, suddenly, she rebounded with all four hooves off the ceiling, dived hard onto Ray, and pulled up at the last second, hooking him underarm and soaring like a bolt into the TARDIS…

…and as everyone knew, was much larger on the inside, large enough to hold a dragon, Trixie, Focus Ray, seven medic-ponies, several PHL soldiers, and the extended Whooves clan. Time Turner. The Doctor, was lying sedated on a gurney, while his and Derpy's two bright-minded daughters were gathered around the central control panel, above which an immense hourglass was tumbling end-over-end in a vertical glass column. Dinky quickly calling out for Pipsqueak from the new armory to help them set up.

"Launch it Muffins!" Derpy shouted, slamming the door shut behind the last pony in and throwing her weight against them to hold them shut. "Launch now!"

Bright-eyed Sparkler nodded and danced her hooves over the control panel, while tiny Dinky and her coltfriend Pipsqueak shouted out pertinent data from their own side of the column.

"Time Circuits on! Status Dinks?"

"1.21 Gigthaums of power flowing from the Eye of Harmony."

"Time-tunnel opening, we're right on the vortex!"

"RTTP set and locked!"

"Tachyons and Minovsky Particles fluxing!"

"Red Mercury flowing! Capacitors primed!"

"Timeframe locked. Pip, set vanes for thirty-degree slide bubble!"

"Vanes set, approaching Infinite Improbability!"

"Hourglass revolutions accelerating to 88 revs per second!"

"Spin-point achieved, hold it there Sparky!"

"Schwarzschild Radius contracting; we have a singularity, go-go-go!"

"Vee-One! Rotate!"

The three youths threw their combined weight onto the main lever, the spinning hourglass roared into an omniscient blur, and the entire cabin lurched as space bent according to the Brown-Schaeffer-Cooper-Hofstadter principle of Time And Relative Dimensions In Space.

The sound the time-machine made was biblical, the sound of the universe itself. Tulip (-no-Trixe-no-Spy-no-Lyra!) could only compare it to a million voices trying to hum an entire rock symphony aloud as she sat in stunned silence on the floor, slowly flexing her wings. She had flown…these were real wings, with feathers and muscles and an urge to preen kicking in, not just an illusion. What was she becoming?

Around them the TARDIS thundered, rocked and screamed, until, with abrupt silence, the engines halted, the doors slid open, and they poured out into what had once been a hangar at JFK airport.

The backwashing energy from dimensional transition must have broken through the sedation spell Trixie had cast on Focus Ray, because his eyes slowly flitted open in time to the doors, laying the first glimpse on the world that had once been his home.

It would be his last sight, as the second he saw paramedics running in to stabilize Spike and the Doctor, his eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth in a feral snarl.

"DESTROY AND CONVERT ALL HUMANS!"

The words had no sooner left his lips, before Blue Spy drove her stiletto into his neck, and with one single, merciful stab divided his spinal cord in two. He died instantly.

"He couldn't be saved Trixie", she said softly. "Not easily at least, not without too much effort that would divert our attention from winning this war. If we're going to save the rest of them, we can't get distracted along the way…"

Trixie and Tulip were silent, too exhausted and stunned to argue.

Levitating Focus Ray's body beside her, and with activity flurrying all around her, she slowly trotted out into the grey, drizzly light of a New York morning.

They were home.

Most Excellent.

From the perspective of the guardsponies in the cave, all that happened was that, with a strange grinding noise that suggested urgent need of oil, the TARDIS had faded out of view.

Ten seconds later, they all bent their heads in supplication as the Solar Sovereign teleported into their midst, eyes narrowed on the slightly smoking spot that the time machine had just launched from

"Doctor..." She hissed in anger, ready to storm out when one of the guards called to her.

"My Queen, they left a note."

She cocked an eye, then delicately lifted the roll of parchment from the floor and broke the seal. Focused on the message inside, she did not notice a small gem roll out from the tube of paper and land on the floor, beeping quietly.

To Fat Flank Bitch

Have a nice Day.

With Love,

Blue Spy, and the Ponies for Human Life

P.S.

3...2...1

The Mare who would be Queen opened her mouth, but got no further, as all the carrot-bombs Tulip had scattered detonated simultaneously, and she and every guard in the chamber found themselves in the middle of an explosion.

No one could have known that the Dragon Dungeon (which had been opened out from a natural cave) actually bisected a small fault-line. Plate Tectonics were a relatively unknown science on Equestria (even on Earth only being taken seriously in the mid-to-late twentieth century), and so no-one had known this when the castle was built above centuries ago.

Now, lubricated by the shockwaves of the explosion, the fault shifted, hit a momentary resistance caused by the castle's foundations, and then sheared parallel to them…

With slow, unstoppable force, the ground cracked along the front of the Castle of the Two Sisters, then the promontory crumbled and slid off into the bottom of the gorge, the bridge that connected it to Traitor's Walk fluttering down after it. Only the prison itself was left, perched precariously on the edge of the new cliff-face. Ponies standing on the battlements gaped in disbelief, and then roared in jubilation as a blazing fireball erupted from the steaming ruin.

Queen Celestia ascended, seemingly carrying aloft on the cheers of her subjects (strangely, no-one seemed too concerned about the several dozen guards lying crushed and shattered in the imploded cave). Her face was bloody and her wings were bent at odd angles, but otherwise she appeared unharmed as she landed gracefully and walked among her subjects, passing out a cursory nuzzle or word of kindness...

Physically, she was fine.

Her pride on the other hoof had taken a severe beating with everything that has happen so far, and mentally she let out a scream of frustration that carried far and wide, until it finally reached Canterlot, where it re-vibrated through the petrified and ossified neural pathways of the statue that had once been Princess Luna.

"This is not over!"

The statue could not smile. But if it could, it would have.

John F Kennedy Airport, NYC; Emergency Medical Facility

"Several life threatening injuries." Tender Heart relayed to the attending surgeons, almost unable to handle what happen to the once cute dragon; adorable in his youth, now older and half dead. "We need to stabilize him, and then operate to expose his plasma-gullet and control the Flame within!"

The human doctor quickly cut away hastily applied field dressings, and swore in disgust.

"My God! There's a hole through his entire claw!"

"Same here."

"Same on the feet. What the hell?! Did they crucify him or something?"

"We'll need fire-retardants to control his Flame; borates, hydroxides, polymer gels – someone find all the chemical fire extinguishers; there must be some over in the fuel depot!"

"Got same signs of rotting on his waist, neck, and tail area."

"He is already in the first stage of Coagulative Necrosis, we need to cut away all the dead flesh, someone get me a scalpel- scratch that, give me the powersaw with runes inscribed on the blade."

"Doctor, he lost a lot of blood, he is not going to make it through the surgery if we don't get him some replenishing potions from Zecora's wares."

"Shit. Derpy – your husband's stable, but outta it, so please get the TARDIS over to Boston and drag Zecora's striped butt over here, pronto!"

"Gotcha, come on girls, Pip!"

"Allon-sy Ms Derpy!"

No expense or consideration had been spared in preparing for Spike's rescue. With air traffic all grounded due to the dangers of pegasus attacks on airliners, many of America's larger airports had been transformed into emergency facilities. JFK, with its huge hangers and cavernous terminal buildings, had become one of the largest field hospitals in existence, a necessity considering the millions fleeing ahead of the barrier every day. Grounded jets became bunkrooms, runways parade grounds for assembling vast amounts of military hardware.

Despite all of that, it had been possible to reserve an entire hanger for the care and accommodation of what many hoped would be a trump-card for the United Forces; a living, fire-breathing dragon.

From high above, in what had once been a maintenance office, 'Lyra' watched down as Spike was wheeled into a pre-prepared mega-scale medical facility; vets, doctors, and pony mages all working together to stabilize the enervated drake. It was heartening, and inspiring, and completely failed to reach her.

Quietly, she focused, feeling the tingle of magic, spread a pair of graceful wings as her horn withered away into her skull. Yet she could still feel her magic, waiting until it could be used. Then, just as slowly, she retracted the wings and felt her body grow a little stockier and stronger, limbs toughened with Earth Pony grit and muscle. Finally, with another thought, she flowed back to being a dusky blue unicorn, the Once and Former Trixie.

She shook a little on her hooves, and began to weep, memories of several missions tangling up. But dominant were the faces of Spike, Green Fields, and Focus Ray, all of them in pain; some of it, a lot of it; pain of her own making.

At the back of her consciousness, Blue Spy sneered.

In the past few weeks, ever since Chrysalis had died, leaving her training in Changeling magic unfinished, Trixie had feared she was losing her mind. She had long 'compartmentalized', envisioning Blue Spy as somepony tougher and stronger than little Trixie Lulamoon, but now her disguises were taking on actual personas, with fake memories and emotions of their own. It scared her.

And now she was losing control of her body too…

"Trixie?" a deep voice called to her, and she looked up to see her partner, her caretaker, her love. "Is something wrong?"

"I...I don't know Stephan..." She whispered, tears falling down her face. "I don't know...I...tortured before...heard their screams, but didn't think of it...but...but seeing Spike...seeing him like the way we found him."

The human kneeled down and holds her chin between two fingers to make her look at him and took out a handkerchief to clean her cheeks.

"It's different when you know them, right?" he asked softly.

Trixie closed her eyes and nod weakly. "Y-yes..."

"You're a compassionate mare Trixie; I'd expect nothing else."

She gasped as strong arms took her in a hug and she felt her face press against his warm chest. She breathed slowly, listening to his heartbeat.

"In fact I'm glad you're this torn up," he whispered.

She looked up with confused eyes. "Why? Why are you glad that I'm crying?"

He smiled at her. It was that kind of smile he used to make her feel warm in her chest. "Because that means you're still Trixie, the mare I love, and not just a cold, ruthless assassin."

She shook her head. "You, don't know half of it..."

Gently she pushed at his chest, and he set her down.

"I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of, always for a good cause…but I think it's…it's damaged me…"

She closed her eyes and flipped a switch in her mind, letting Tulip out to play. Stephen watched on in pride as her mane, coat and eyes shifted, and a pair of wings spread…

But when 'Tulip' took off and, hovering, bopped him playfully on the nose, he fell back in shock.

"Hi there sir; I'm Tulip Bell, and it's an honor to meet the man of Spy and Trixie's dreams!"

"Trix-Trixie…"

"Not quite, but I can get her for you…"

Touching down, Tulip's form and mind slid smoothly, transitioning in just a moment from a cheerful, brave and sometimes dangerous pegasus youth to a weeping, stumbling unicorn mare.

"How…how can I be your Trixie, when I'm not anymore…there's so many of them in my head, like parts of me branching off…I don't know how Chrysalis could hold onto herself through it…"

"Mein Liebe…my love" he said quietly, and she looked up. Sitting cross legged Stephen opened his arms, and without hesitation she flew into his embrace.

"You are afraid you are losing your identity. I don't know magic, but I do know a little about post-battle stress, and I know you can hold onto yourself."

She looked up at him. Again she felt his strong hands resting on her coat and she pressed a little tighter. "How?"

"You can because you are a strong mare. You can do it because you know who you are, and you know right from wrong. All those times you've kept yourself in check, kept 'Blue Spy' in check show that you're stronger than her. And because..."

Holding her close he rested their foreheads together, before giving her a quick peck on the tip of her snout. "...because you know that I'm always there for you when you need someone. Just like how you were there for me in the beginning, helping me in my time of crisis."

She blushed a bit and nuzzled his neck. "Thank you."

Pressed to him she could feel his calm but strong heart. It was calming her own, soothing its anguish until they seemed to beat in sync. He always had that effect... she don't know how to describe it. But she just wanted to be with him the entire time. Like this in his arms and her head on his warm chest.

Maybe, someday, she could take this transformational magic to the point where she could stand on two feet beside him, and hold his hand with her own…yes, that would be perfect.

"I have to go soon", he said gently. "A lot happened while you are away and I have to assist Cheerilee in planning the next stage

Trixie nodded and smiled at him. "Yes. Okay. I will do what I can too. But please, can we just stay like this for a little longer."

"But of course, mein liebe…"

She smiled, and suddenly understood how Chrysalis and her brood might have held onto their minds. Love…given, taken or stolen, directed at another or selfishly focused on oneself, love was a powerful force…

And right now, she felt like the strongest mare in the world.

'For love…for our loves, we will do anything', her disparate personalities agreed.