*There is no Max in this chapter. Thanks in advance.

Despite the belief held by many that the National Treasury of Equestria is a large, sealed bank vault deep within the heart of Canterlot Castle, the truth is far less grand. Unlike its depiction in multiple books, comics, and tabloids, the National Treasury is neither a vault nor located within the castle.

It is, in reality, a medium-sized building on the very outskirts of the palace grounds[see image A-2]. The entire facility is ringed by tall brick walls, topped with barbed wire. Patrolled by hundreds of Royal Guards, as well as protected by layers of physical and magical security, alarms, and the latest technology, the Treasury is almost as well-guarded as the Solar and Lunar Princesses themselves.

That doesn’t mean that it isn’t impenetrable. There have been several attempts to steal the gold within since it was first built back in 876 AB. None were ever successful, though. The closest a pony has ever come to robbing the National Treasury had been a pegasus calling himself “Spring-Hoofed Tac”[see image B-4], who had managed to catch the slightest glimpse of gold before being contained by nearly thirty Royal Guards that had been stationed there at the time.

In the best circumstances, the Treasury can hold upwards to ten-thousand metric tons of gold and silver, along with assorted gems. And those aren’t the only things held within its vaults.

However, whatever is located within the deeper vaults are for the Princesses’ eyes only. Nopony has ever seen what is stored within the airtight vaults, but there are speculations that…

Sunny slammed her head onto the table, groaning loudly.

“Why am I reading this again?” she groaned, her voice muffled by the table. “I can practically feel my brain oozing from my ears.”

“Uh, because you requested something to read?” Stacker said, glancing over at her from across the table.

“Yeah,” Sunny said, picking her head up to glare at the stallion. “That usually means something other than an academic book on the boring history of a boring building. I mean, seriously! This book is nearly two-thousand pages long. What could they possibly be covering in that amount of pages for a building that’s not even three-hundred years old?”

“Don’t know,” Stacker said, taking a sip from his bottle of cider. “Haven’t actually read it, so I couldn’t tell you.”

Sunny growled at him before slamming the book closed and pushing it away from her.

“Ugh, I’m going to go crazy just waiting around here,” she cried as she stood up and began to pace around the room. The other members of the Coming Dawn just glanced up at her as she passed before returning their attention back to whatever they had been doing to pass the time.

The Coming Dawn were currently within the bowels of the Treasury. They had set up their command post within the main room of the depositor. From the circular room they could easily see each of the six main vaults, positioned in a semicircle across the back wall. The vault doors were open, each containing a handful of Coming Dawn guards, as well as several squads of regular Royal Guards. Everypony was dressed in armor, prepped and ready for any trouble.

“Just sit down and relax,” Stacker said as Sunny paced past him for the eighth time.

“No, you relax,” Sunny shot back, glaring at him. “I’m going to fret. This is a huge mistake! We shouldn’t even be here.”

“The note we recovered—”

“Screw the note,” Sunny huffed, beginning to pace again. “I already told you, this isn’t Darkflare’s style. He doesn’t rob banks, period. He gets all of his money from gambling on the human fights that he tries to rig. You brought me on as an expert in Darkflare’s activity, so I’m telling you, this isn’t his style!”

Stacker looked at her with a level gaze, the small smile never leaving his lips. “According to our records, during his interrogation with Princess Sparkle, Darkflare revealed that he had been hired. While it may be that this isn’t Darkflare’s personal style, we cannot discredit that somepony else is pulling the strings. If that's the case, then what better way is there to throw ponies off the trail than to have somepony do something that they wouldn’t normally do.”

Sunny gave him a blank look, her right ear twitching. “Huh?”

Stacker just rolled his eyes.

“Somepony could have hired Darkflare to do this job because it’s something that he wouldn’t normally do,” he said, leaning his head onto a forehoof. “If they know that you’re working for us, they could be trying to throw us off the trail.”

“What trail?” Sunny asked, her voice rising. “There is no trail! Darkflare somehow escaped from Canterlot’s dungeons, and then proceeded to lay low for nearly a month. Why lay low?” she asked, glancing at Stacker. “If he was truly riding a high from escaping, like you said, then wouldn't he have been capturing more humans for fighting rings?” When Stacker didn’t answer, she continued, “But, no. He remains in hiding until, for some reason, he shows up in Manehattan, only to leave behind his murderous human in the burning warehouse. What’s more, it sounds like he picked up a different human, one which I’ve never seen or heard of before. This isn’t usual for Darkflare. Something is wrong!”

“Precisely,” Stacker said with a smile. This caused Sunny to pause.

“Come again?”

“That’s precisely why we are aiming to capture him,” Stacker explained. “From what you’ve told us, we deduced that Darkflare was not following his normal routine. That can mean several things, the major one of which is that Darkflare is being used by somepony else. That pony is an unknown, and they currently have one of our guards hostage. We are trying to find that pony, and our current lead is Darkflare himself.

“That is why we’re taking what that note said seriously, despite your protests,” Stacker continued. “Any chance at catching Darkflare will be taken, regardless of how ridiculous they may be.”

Sunny’s ears splayed backwards and she took a step back. “I didn’t th—”

“Think? No, you didn’t,” a voice spoke up behind her, making her jump. Ivory walked up beside her, a bored look on her face. She gave Sunny a quick smirk as she walked by. “That’s not your job, though. It’s ours.” Walking around the table, Ivory handed a slip of paper to one of the royal guards, who immediately walked off, before returning her attention to Sunny.

“We do appreciate your concern, Ms. Breeze,” she said, “and I did let the Princess know of your belief in the note, but this is part of our job. It’s what we do. Sure, ponies get upset when the sting is a bust, complaining about ‘wasting taxpayer’s bits’. Yet, these are the same ponies that praise us when we capture dangerous criminals.”

The guard that Ivory had handed the paper to returned and whispered something into her ear. She nodded once, and the guard returned to his original position.

“Right,” Ivory said, turning to Stacker. “It appears that everything is in place. There is a Sensor unicorn within each of the vaults, currently keeping close watch on the ground. A gopher won’t be able to burrow underneath the Treasury without us knowing about it.”

“I’ve talked with the Treasury’s guards,” Stacker said, downing his cider before placing the empty bottle down on the table. “They’ll be doing their normal rounds, and I’ve instructed them to check in with us every half-an-hour.

“There are several squads of Lunar guards patrolling the air around the building, as well,” he continued. “They’ll be keeping away any late-night travelers, as well as keeping an on eye the grounds. To top it off, there is a team of Battlemages patrolling the perimeter of the fence.”

Ivory nodded before, with a sigh, she sat down as well. Taking off her helmet, she placed it on the tabletop in front of her. “Now, we play the waiting game.”

Sunny retook her seat, shaking her head. “This still feels like a bad idea.”

Darkflare smirked, his face illuminated by the crimson light shining from his horn. His ice blue eyes twinkled in the gloom with devilish mischief.

Around him, the tunnel was alive with activity. Humans clawed away at the rock face, burrowing through the stone as unicorns observed and directed, using sparks from their horns to keep the diggers in line.

The humans slaved away, yelping in pain whenever a unicorn zapped them. There were burns across their backs, their hands bloodied from the sharp rocks. Sweat dripped down their bodies as they carved their way through the earth.

After a particularly large shock, one of the humans turned and snarled at the offending unicorn. He lunged forward, only to be stopped as fire erupted from Darkflare’s horn, lashing at the human like a whip.

“Back to work,” Darkflare snarled, his voice echoing around the tunnel. The human snarled again, baring his teeth in defiance. Darkflare just sneered as the fire whip lashed out, striking the human across the face. The human howled, rubbing vigorously at the burned flesh. Another crack from the whip, and he turned and resumed digging along with the other humans.

“Dumb beasts,” Darkflare grunted as the fire spell flickered out. “Know your place.” Wiping his mane out of his face, he glared at the humans in distaste. They were a stupid, useless race, good for only manual labor and pitting against one another in the fight pits. The only reason he hadn’t already started using them as fighters yet was because of—

The sound of a throat being cleared drew Darkflare’s attention, and he glanced around. The Archmage stood behind him, a grim look on his face, his blue eyes glowing eerily in the dark.

“Why must you torment them so?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. Darkflare snorted, smirking at him.

“They’re just humans,” he said, turning his attention back to the diggers. “They can’t feel pain like you or me, so what does it matter? I could sear one of their limbs, and they will continue to work regardless. It’s why they make such good fighters.” The Archmage’s eyes flashed red suddenly, rage crossing his face for a split second before becoming calm again. The change was so quick, Darkflare missed it.

Moving to stand beside Darkflare, the Archmage eyed the working humans with a bemused look.

“All the same, I would prefer it if you didn’t treat my—” he paused, an eye twitching “—treat the humans that way. They work far more efficiently when treated properly and with respect. Fear makes them do what you want, but respect makes them willing to die for you.”

Darkflare snorted as he glanced sideways at the Archmage. His smirk vanished when he saw the cold look in the stallion’s eyes. It was enough to send a shiver down the hardened criminal’s spine, but he shook it off. The Archmage was an old stallion, his magic slowly fading. If push came to shove, Darkflare was sure that he could take him.

“You can’t be serious,” Darkflare scoffed, shaking his head.

“...”

“You’re being serious?”

“...”

“You’ve got to be fucking with me. You don’t pay me enough for this shit,” Darkflare growled, rolling his eyes. “You and your bloody bleedin’ heart.”

The pair lapsed into silence, continuing to watch the humans dig. They were getting farther away now, the sounds of their grunting fading as they dug deeper into the earth. Sparks continued to flash in the darkness as the unicorns ‘encouraged’ the humans along, barking out orders.

Soon, Darkflare and the Archmage were alone in the tunnel, the only light coming from Darkflare’s horn. They were silent for several minutes before the Archmage spoke. “You burned everything within the warehouse, correct?”

“As I told you before, yes,” Darkflare said, staring blankly down the dark tunnel. “I waited until the guards were in the building, then set fire to the place. By the time they finished fighting with Van, everything should have been burned to cinders.”

“So, nothing would have survived the flames?” the Archmage asked, staring at Darkflare intently. The unicorn smirked, chuckling softly.

“Nothing important,” he corrected. The Archmage stared at him for several seconds before a smile of his own crossed his muzzle.

“Excellent.”

The sound of hoofsteps brought the conversation to an end, several unicorns materializing out of the gloom. They were wearing makeshift armor, composed of several metal plates bolted onto straps of leather. Black cowls covered their heads, hiding their faces from view.

As the group neared, the Archmage spoke up, his tone bored. “Are your boys ready to go, Dark Spice?”

The lead unicorn paused, turning his head to glare at the Archmage from beneath his cowl.

“The Blackhoof Guild is always ready to go,” Dark Spice growled out, his voice gravely and coarse. “Just keep your pathetic excuse for a gang out of our way.” Darkflare snarled at the unicorn, baring his teeth. A sharp look from the Archmage though, and he backed down, allowing the unicorns to pass.

“Now, now,” the Archmage tsked, smirking as he shook his head. “Play nice with the other children, Darkflare.”

“They’re starting to try my patience with their superior attitude,” Darkflare growled under his breath. The Archmage didn’t reply. He was too busy eyeing one of the ponies bringing up the rear of the group.

Golden Ingot slunk by the pair, his head hung low, ears splayed backwards, and tail between his legs. He glanced at the Archmage fearfully as he passed, trying to look as small as possible.

The Archmage continued to watch him until Ingot disappeared into the darkness with the other unicorns. Glancing at Darkflare, he asked, “How is he doing?”

“The spineless foal?” Darkflare asked with a snort. “Completely and utterly worthless. All the bucker does is sit around and complain. Even caught him trying to escape once, but we quickly put a stop to that. We think he was going to get a hold of the guards, but he claims he was just going out for some fresh air.” Darkflare glanced over at the Archmage, glaring at the older stallion. “Why’d you have to bring him along again? Should have just torched his sorry carcass back in the cells.”

“He’ll play his part soon enough,” the Archmage said, closing his eyes and nodding his head. “When all is said and done, he’ll have played his part perfectly.”

“What part is that?” Darkflare asked, giving the mage a bemused look. The Archmage was silent for a long time, his eyes remaining closed.

“Has he been using any magic?” he finally asked, opening his eyes.

“What?” Darkflare asked stupidly. The Archmage tsked, shaking his head.

“I gave the poor soul a horn. Has he been using it?”

“No,” Darkflare grunted. “It sparks occasionally, but he hasn’t been using it, stupid mudpony. If he’s not careful, he’ll start to get magical build up and, well—” he chuckled darkly, eyes twinkling in the red light from his horn “—a magical surge at his age? I don’t want to be in the same town as that.”

”Yes, well, that might be because, though I gave him the horn, I didn’t give him the means to use it,” the Archmage said, a dark grin slowly spreading across his face.

“Not that I care for the bastard, but why’d you do that?” Darkflare asked.

“Which is better?” the Archmage asked as he started off down the tunnel, heading in the direction of the digging humans. “To have a mug that’s half-empty, or a mug that’s overflowing?”

“Hmmm?” Slowly nodding off, Sunny’s head slipped from her hoof and she jerked awake. Lifting her head, she looked around, blinking owlishly. Stacker smirked at her, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry, what?” Sunny said, stifling a yawn.

“I asked if you had any family, ma’am,” Stacker said. Sunny blinked, earning a chuckle from him. “It was something to talk about to help keep you awake,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we can pick another subject.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Sunny said, waving a hoof. “It was just random, I wasn’t expecting it.” She paused, rubbing her tired eyes with a hoof before continuing. “There isn’t much to talk about, actually. I was born and raised in Canterlot by my mother, who was a pegasus that worked at one of the local coffee shops. Never really knew my father. According to my mother, he left before I was born. She didn’t tell me much about him, other than he was a unicorn.”

“I’m sorry,” Stacker said, his ears lowering slightly. Sunny just shrugged.

“It’s hard to miss somepony whom you never knew,” she said emotionlessly. She sighed, before continuing, “Anyways, I lived with my mother until she passed away from a brain tumor. After that, I was homeless. Little money, barely out of school, and a pegasus within Canterlot. My childhood was a blast,” Sunny deadpanned.

“I’ll bet,” Stacker chuckled, shaking his head. “While beautiful, Canterlot can be one of the more tribalist cities in Equestria. Especially with all the unicorn nobles.” He paused to take a sip from a steaming coffee mug before asking, “So, how did you get into the criminal world?”

Sunny flinched.

“Sorry,” he apologized, wincing. “That came out more coldly than I intended.”

“It’s fine,” Sunny said, glancing off to the side. “I know that my previous… job, if you can call it that, wasn’t the most legal of occupations—” she chuckled weakly “—but it was the only one I could find that would hire me.”

“What of your other family members?” Stacker asked. “Could they have taken you in, helped you out?”

“Didn’t have anypony after my mom died,” Sunny said before correcting herself. “Actually, I had an older brother, but he moved out when I was very little, so I hardly remember him. All I remember is he had a rather weird obsession with pies. Didn’t really know him that well, so I never looked for him.

“Anyways,” Sunny sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Three years after I joined up with Darkflare’s gang, we found this weird human wandering in the desert, and, well, you know the rest of the story.” She trailed off as a guard walked over and handed her a cup of coffee. Thanking him, she took a sip before looking at Stacker. “How about you? You have any family?”

“My father was in the guard before me, but passed away some years ago due to a heart condition,” Stacker began. “My mother is still alive and living in Cloudsdale, happily retired from her job as an outfitter for the Wonderbolts. Other than that, the only close relative I can think of is my cousin who lives over in Ponyville. Nice mare, even has a small filly, but can’t find any stallion. Something about the way her eyes look or something like that.” He shrugged, ruffling his wings. “Their loss, she’s actually quite the cook.”

“That it?” Sunny asked with a blink. “No wife, no marefriend?” This got a laugh from Stacker.

“Nope, no significant other for me,” he said.

“What, are you married to your work or something?” Sunny asked, smirking as she tilted her head slightly.

“No, nothing like that,” Stacker chuckled. “Just ain’t no mare interested, that’s all.”

“What?” Sunny said, the surprise clear in her voice. “Mares aren’t interested in a strong, gruff stallion like you?” The minute she said it, her eyes widened and her a large blush spread across her face as a hoof flew to her mouth. Stacker opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, a stunned look on his normally cheery face.

Across the room, Ivory burst into laughter, pounding her hoof on her table as she gasped for breath.

“I can’t believe I said that,” Sunny muttered, her hoof still covering her mouth. “I can’t believe I said that, I can’t believe I said that, I can not believe I said that!”

“Well, I’m flattered, but…” Stacker laughed, shaking his head. Sunny eep’d before burrowing her head in her hooves, her face bright red and feeling like it had been slapped.

“This night can’t get any worse,” she moaned, closing her eyes and wishing the table would just swallow her whole.

“We’re almost there,” Darkflare growled, staring up at the carved ceiling of the tunnel. Eyeing it critically, he tried to estimate how far they had tunneled into the mountain before glancing back down at the hoof-drawn map in his magic.

“Sixteen metres,” the Archmage said, his tone bored.

“How do you know?” Darkflare asked, glaring at the stallion. The Archmage just smirked, his horn glowing a soft yellow for a split second.

“I may be old, but I still have a trick or two in reserve,” he said, the light around his horn dying.

The humans in front of them continued to dig, shifting through the rock and earth with practiced hands. The unicorns were grouped behind the humans, inching along with them as they tunneled further into the mountain.

One of the humans paused, glancing over his shoulder at the unicorns behind him. Or, more specifically, the Archmage.

The human’s pupils dilated, and he froze for a split second before turning and beginning to dig with increased vigor, almost at a frantic pace. He chirped loudly, causing the other humans to tense up and increase their speed as well.

The Archmage’s smile grew. The humans tunneled faster.

“What was that about not making them fear you?” Darkflare commented, glancing sideways at the Archmage.

“It is not fear that makes them move faster, but rather respect,” the Archmage replied. “They know who the alpha is in the situation, and work harder to get what he wants.”

“Well, whatever the reason, at the speed they’re going, we’ll be there within the hour,” Darkflare snorted, getting rid of the map with a burst of magic.

“Finally,” the Archmage hissed, his eyes flashing, “after months of planning, everything is coming together perfectly.” He chuckled darkly, causing the humans to flinch at the noise. Despite their bloodied hands and tired muscles, they continued to dig as though the devil himself was behind them.

“This is ridiculous,” Ivory grunted, pacing back and forth.

“I know,” Stacker said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He nodded, his head resting on his hoof. “You’d think that criminals would have more respect and show up at a decent time. Right, Ms. Breeze?”

“Huh?” Sunny glanced up from her game of solitaire, which, incidentally, she was somehow losing at. Looking over at Stacker, she blinked several times before her mind caught up with what he had said. “I’m staying out of this,” she said, shaking her head as she returned to her card game, determined to find that one buck three if it was the last thing she did. “You already know my opinion on how big a waste of time this is.”

Ivory growled before beginning to pace again, her ears twitching at random intervals. Her red eyes darted back and forth, almost as if she was reading text that only she could see.

Passing by one of the vaults, she glanced inside and asked, “Anything?”

“Nothing, ma’am,” the unicorn answered, her horn glowing a bright orange. It sent another burst down her body and into the floor through her hooves. There was a brief pause before she added, “There is a family of gophers a few meters down and to the left, but other than that, the ground is silent.” She paused. “Actually, there are a few vibrations coming from the south, but nothing noteworthy so far.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” Ivory muttered, shaking her head. “It’s the right date, the right location, the right time. Where the buck are they?”

“And I keep telling you, this isn’t like Darkflare,” Sunny sighed, rolling her eyes. “He doesn’t plan ahead, he doesn’t write notes, he doesn’t keep plans just lying around. It’s just not him. He goes with the flow, doing whatever he feels like whenever he feels like. The only time you’ll ever see Darkflare planning ahead is if it’s how to kill something.”

“So, let’s say Darkflare didn’t write it,” Stacker said, waving a hoof through the air. “Let’s say that whoever hired him wrote the note, and Darkflare was simply destroying it in order to keep us off the trail.”

“But that doesn’t explain why he hasn’t shown up yet,” Ivory growled, stomping a hoof. She glared at the floor for several seconds before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, she sat down and began to tap her hooves together, her brow furrowed in thought.

“Unless…” she muttered, her eyes narrowing.

Darkflare couldn’t help but grin. They were feet, mere feet from their destination. Soon, very soon, all their preparations and planning would pay off. He felt a shiver run down his spine and he laughed to himself.

One step closer to the end, he thought as he watched the humans dug upward at an angle. One step closer to that sweet, sweet payday. Around him, the other unicorns were tense, waiting with bated breath for the few final feet of earth to be cleared away.

“Unless?” Stacker asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Ivory was silent for a brief moment before glancing over at Sunny. “You said that Darkflare claimed he was hired by somepony in Canterlot, right?”

“Yeah,” Sunny nodded, “but he didn’t go into any details on the matter.” Ivory fell silent again, her eyes darting to and fro.

“Whatcha thinking?” Stacker asked.

“Darkflare is hired by a third party in Canterlot,” Ivory said slowly, her ear twitching. “He’s placed in Canterlot dungeons, only to escape via mysterious means. Princess Celestia is keeping the details close to her chest, which can only mean that she doesn’t know who to trust. That can only mean one thing…”

“She believes we have a rat in our midst,” Stacker finished, his smile gone. “We already knew that, though, so what’s your point?”

Ivory rubbed her chin, her eyes narrowing. “Would that rat know our procedures?”

One of the humans reached forward and thrust his hand deep into the dirt before him. He yelped loudly, pulling his hand free in a shower of earth and rock. Clutching at his bleeding hand, he gazed up at the iron sheet in front of him, chirping softly. Around him, the other humans slowed their excavation, looking at the iron with blank expressions.

Stacker’s expression was blank for several seconds before his eyes widened and he swore under his breath. “Celestia’s fiery teats.”

Sunny glanced back and forth between the pair, confusion clear on her face.

“What?” she asked, ruffling her wings. When she got no response, she asked louder, “What? What’s the big deal?”

“If the rat knows—”

“I would assume that, if there is a traitor, that they would know your procedures,” Sunny tsked, shaking her head. “That’s kinda the point of a traitor, no? To have inside information?”

Stacker sighed, closing his eyes as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with a hoof.

“It’s not that simple,” he said, opening his eyes and glancing at Sunny. “You see, each branch of Canterlot’s defense is trained differently. Members of the Royal Guard are subjected to a regiment that helps them better their defensive skills, while the Lunar guard is trained in stealth and espionage. Each branch as different playbooks by which they run their operations. The Royal guard will act differently than the Lunar guard, as well as the Battlemages and Coming Dawn. That’s why you rarely see the different military branches working together.”

“I… see?” Sunny said tentatively, her head cocked to the side.

“That means that a member of the Royal Guard will have no knowledge of Lunar Guard procedures,” Stacker explained. “That’s probably part of the reason the Anomaly’s guards have difficulty working together. They weren’t trained together to follow the same method.”

“But what does this have to do with Darkflare?” Sunny asked.

“The Coming Dawn, being the unique task force that we are, have a pretty exclusive operational playbook,” Stacker answered. “Anypony outside of the Coming Dawn won’t know how we operate. The question is, does the rat have that knowledge?”

“Would it matter if they did?”

“Yes,” Ivory snapped, pacing again. “If they know how we operate, then they would know that we would respond to that note, which means…”

The humans shrank to the side as Darkflare stepped forward, a massive grin upon his muzzle as he stared up at the metal before him.

“Jackpot,” he muttered under his breath, his horn lighting up with crimson light. Around him, the other unicorns pushed forward, preparing. The Archmage watched with a cold gaze, his brow furrowed.

With a flash, Darkflare released his spell. There was a horrible screeching noise as the metal was suddenly split apart. In a shower of iron and rock, the end of the tunnel caved in.

“They could use it as a distraction,” Sunny whispered, her eyes widening as she realized the implications of what the guards had been getting at.

Fresh air flooded the tunnel, clearing dust and debris away from the coughing unicorns. They gazed up at the newly made entryway, squinting as fluorescent light flooded the dark gloom of the tunnel.

Darkflare glanced back at the Archmage, who looking at him through the magical barrier he had erected to protect himself from the cascade of earth and iron. The pair stared at each other for several seconds before, with a snort, Darkflare turned and began to ascend the makeshift ramp of debris.

He could not help the dark chuckle that escaped his lips as he stepped up, out of the tunnel, and took his first steps into the Human Research Facility of Canterlot.

Dusty Withers sighed, rubbing at her tired eyes with a hoof. The desk in front of her was covered with scrolls and folders stuffed full of paperwork. An inkwell, nearly empty, rested at the edge of the desk, in danger of being pushed off by the massive pile of paper. Soft music played in the background, provided by a nearby record player.

She sorted through the sea of papers, trying and failing to suppress a yawn. Eventually, she found the form she was looking for, pulling it free and clipping it to her clipboard. Finishing off her mug of coffee, she turned and trotted from her office, heading down the hall with a purpose.

She passed several doors before halting in front of the one she wanted. Pulling her ID card from her pocket, she quickly swiped it, unlocking the door. She pushed it open, making sure that it closed tightly behind her.

Looking around the large lab, she sighed again before moving to glance down into one of the pits built into the floor. Through the hole she could see one of the facility's multiple holding cells, built to look like a natural environment, complete with a small pond and an actual living tree.

The sole inhabitant of the cell, a human female with light blonde hair, glanced up at Withers briefly before returning to cleaning herself in the pond. Withers watched her for a few more minutes before turning and heading towards the back of the lab and the door positioned there.

Pulling out her ID card, she swiped it again. The door clicked open and she entered.

Cages lined the dimly lit room, full of humans. The cages were large, allowing the humans a comfortable amount of space to move around in. The padded floors were heated, piles of faux fur lying in the corners of each cage, providing bedding for the humans. Each cage had a large water dispenser equipped to one of the walls, providing the inhabitant with over ten-gallons of water, that was refilled daily.

Despite PATH’s insistence to the contrary, the Facility treated its human residents very well.

Weaving her way through the cages, Withers eyed their identification tags until she found the one she was looking for. Glancing at the inhabitant—a young male—she grabbed a leash hanging from a hook on the cage.

Opening the door, she entered the cage, quickly clipping the leash to the human’s collar as he stood up. With that, she led him out of the cage, and towards the door to the labs. The other humans watched through the bars of their cages as Withers led their companion along.

The human chirped softly as she fumbled with her ID. After several attempts, Withers finally managed to get the door open and, with a gentle tug, she directed the human through the door and into the lab.

Using a treat, she managed to get the human onto an examination table, and strapped him down. Once the human was properly restrained, Withers picked up her clipboard, and started working.

“Human male,” Withers muttered as she wrote, the quill clasped in her hoof. “Name is Zane, identification number 53595.” Glancing at one of the machines attached to the examination table, she squinted at the data. “Heart rate and blood pressure is normal. His dietary meat substitute appears to be having no negative effects on his vitals. Weight is still the same, so we might try increasing the amount of food he receives.” She gave Zane a warm smile.

“Would you like that, hon?” she cooed, rubbing his head with a hoof. “Extra food, that sound good to you?” Zane chirped, leaning his head into the ministration. “Thought so,” Withers said with a smirk.

Stopping her petting, Withers picked up a syringe from a nearby table. Cooing softly to Zane, she fiddled with the needle for several seconds before managing to prick a vein and drain some blood. Capping off the vial, she tagged it before placing it within a nearby refrigerated cabinet. “Blood sample taken. Will need to get a semen sample before the week is out. I’ll have to inform Lovecraft about that. She always enjoys that part of the job.” Withers shivered, earning her a small chirp from the human.

“You’re being a very good boy, Zane,” she cooed as the human strained slightly at the straps. “Just one more thing, hon, then we’ll get you off of the table.” Picking up a nearby thermometer, she pressed it against Zane’s forehead and activated it. After several seconds, the device beeped and she pulled it away to look at it.

“Temperature is eighty-six point three degrees. Excellent,” Withers said with a smile. “Looks like you’ve got another clean bill of health, Zane.” Placing the thermometer down, she moved around and began to unstrap Zane from the table.

Once the last strap had fallen away, the human sat up, rubbing at his wrists as he chirped softly.

“Come along, Zane,” Withers said as she took a hold of the leash. “I’ve got a little bit of a treat for you.” Moving the human to a nearby table, she sat him down in a chair. Once Zane was situated, Withers opened a drawer located beneath the table and pulled out a plastic graduated cylinder, a wide beaker, and a small bottle of apple cider.

Placing the cylinder and beaker in front of Zane, she cracked open the cider and poured more into the beaker than the cylinder. Zane reached forward, but stopped as Withers held up a hoof.

“Hold,” she instructed firmly. After a brief pause, she lowered her hoof and motioned towards the containers. “Which?”

Zane reached forward again, only to pause, his hand hovering over the cylinder. His brow furrowed as his eyes darted back and forth between the two differently sized containers. Withers noted his hesitation with a tilt of her head.

Picking up her quill, she jotted down a quick note, all while keeping her eyes locked on Zane. “Subject 53595 shows some hesitation during beaker test, despite previous data.”

As she watched, Zane scrunched up his face and grunted. Clenching his hand once, he then reached forward and picked up the beaker with more cider in it.

As he drained the container of its sweet substance, Withers raised an eyebrow.

“Odd,” she muttered, marking down the result. “That’s the first time he’s picked that one.” Taking the now empty beaker from Zane, she refilled it before placing it back down upon the table. Quickly switching the beaker and the cylinder’s positions, she glanced up at the human. “Which?” Again, Zane reached for the beaker, this time with less hesitation.

Withers ran the experiment several more times, each one resulting in the same result. When the cider finally ran out, Withers started at Zane, her mane slightly disheveled.

“That doesn’t make sense,” she muttered, rubbing her temples with her hooves. “They never pick the beakers. Never!” She eyed the human for several seconds before reaching under the table and pulling out three cups and a treat.

Placing the treat onto the table, Withers quickly covered it with a cup. Placing the other two cups down on the table as well, she quickly mixed up their positions until even she didn’t know where the treat was.

Glancing up at Zane, she motioned to the cups and asked, “Which?”

Zane hesitated, just for a moment, before reaching forward and picking up the rightmost cup, exposing the treat underneath. Wither could only sit there in stunned silence, staring as Zane happily munched away on the treat.

“I don’t believe it,” she muttered, shaking her head. Picking up the quill, she quickly marked down the results on the clipboard.

She had just finished writing down her notes when Zane gave off a pained whine, almost like a growl in the back of his throat. Glancing up, Withers gave him a concerned look. “What’s wrong, boy?”

Zane whined again, his eyes darting to something located behind Withers. Her brows furrowed, and she gave the human a confused look before glancing over her shoulder.

Withers froze, her teal eyes going wide as she suddenly came muzzle to muzzle with a crimson unicorn. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared into his cold, blue eyes.

He grinned at her, a grin that sent shivers down her spine and seemed to chill her very soul. “Hello.”

Before Withers could answer, the unicorn’s horn lit up and a band of magic wrapped itself around her throat, lifting her out of her seat. Struggling frantically, Withers gasped for breath as her hooves dangled just off of the floor. Zane chirped loudly, clearly distressed at what was happening to his handler.

“Oh, don’t worry, darlin’,” the unicorn chuckled, his magical grip on her remaining firm. “We won’t be long.” As he spoke, more unicorns emerged into the room from out of one of the observation pits, using a series of ropes to claw their way up.

Three of the intruders, lead by a unicorn in a black cowl, stalked towards the back room where the humans were kept. As they passed her, the lead unicorn’s horn lit up, and Withers’ ID card flew out of her pocket and over to the caster.

Withers began to struggle again as the unicorns swiped the card and opened the door.

“No, no,” the crimson unicorn chuckled, leering up at her. “Don’t worry, we know what we’re looking for. We can get it.” Withers let out a gurgling cry as the unicorns slipped into the human holding area.

Suddenly, a voice spoke up, “Darkflare, leave her! You have your orders!”

Darkflare glanced down, glaring at something behind Withers. He snorted once, rolling his eyes before looking back up at her. “Fine.” His horn suddenly surged brighter, and Withers yelped as she was flung across the room. She slammed into one of the examination tables, which proceeded to collapse beneath her, scattering medical supplies across the floor.

Withers could feel the right side of her face slowly beginning to swell as she tried to push herself up. She could only got her forehooves beneath her before a shadow fell over her. Craning her neck, she looked up into the familiar face of—

“Archmage?” Withers slurred out through her bruised jaw, squinting up at him. The stallion in question just stared down at her, a blank look on his face.

“You weren’t supposed to be here,” he said, his voice cold.

“I… w-what?” Withers wheezed, her forelegs trembling beneath her. The Archmage shook his head slightly, a dark scowl slowly spreading across his face.

“Stupid ponies,” he growled, causing Withers to flinch back. “Always sticking your muzzles where they don’t belong!” He about spat the words from his mouth, his eyes flashing red for the briefest of moments before returning to icy blue.

Withers opened her mouth, but paused, unsure of what to say. Her mind was fogged with pain and confusion, and she could feel blood slowly dripping from her muzzle.

Movement behind the Archmage caught her attention and, adjusting her position with a wince, she glanced around him.

A large group of unicorns were extracting the humans from their cages, herding them with sparks from their horns. The humans, scared and confused, just huddled together, whimpering.

“What are you doing with them?” Withers asked, her words garbled by the slow flow of blood in her mouth.

The Archmage just tsked. “That, my dear, is none of your concern.”

Withers opened her mouth to say something, anything, but was interrupted by a timid voice speaking up. “W-Witty?”

Glancing around the Archmage again, Withers blinked in surprise as another familiar face made itself known, poking out from behind one of the nearby machines.

“Golden?” she asked, not believing what she was seeing. Squinting, Withers tried to clear the haze from in front of her eyes, her foggy mind trying to process who was standing before her. “Golden? What are you doing here?”

Golden Ingot stared down at the crumpled mare, his eyes wide. “Witty?” he asked again, his voice trembling. Withers noted he looked terrible, his usually trim and proper mane disheveled and greasy. There were bags under his bloodshot eyes, and there was a thin layer of grime across his coat.

“G-Golden, you aren’t… you aren’t with them, are you?” she asked, casting a furtive glance towards the Archmage. He was watching the pair closely, a contemplative look in his eyes. She could almost see the gears in his head turning.

Suppressing a shiver, Withers looked back at Golden. Her eyes landed on his horn, and she gasped, before coughing as blood got into her lungs. “G-Golden, w-wha… why do you have a horn? W-what have you done?!”

Golden Ingot just shook his head, unable or unwilling to speak. Withers wasn’t sure which.

“P-please… please tell me you aren’t with them!” she said, her voice slowly becoming hysterical. “Please, Golden—”

“Well, this is truly an interesting turn of events,” the Archmage said suddenly, cutting Withers off. He looked back and forth between Golden and Withers, a large smile on his face. “I take it you two know each other?”

“Y-yes,” Golden said, nodding his head thickly. “We were… we were married, once.” The Archmage’s eyes widened, and his smile grew.

“That makes this even better,” he chuckled, the laughter seeming to suck the warmth from the air. The rest of the unicorns, having finished removing the humans from their cages, just stood in the background, watching silently.

Keeping his eyes locked on Withers, the Archmage slowly paced around until he was standing behind Golden. Leaning in, he hissed into the stallion’s ear, “Seeing as you are… familiar with this mare, I’ll give you the pleasure of killing her.”

Withers froze, her breath catching in her throat. Golden’s eyes shot open wide, and he took a step back, only to bump into the Archmage.

“You… you can’t be serious!” Golden croaked, his ears splaying backwards.

“Oh, but I am,” the Archmage growled, stalking around Golden as he continued to stare at Withers. “She has seen too much. No one was supposed to be here when we arrived. It’s just her bad luck that she decided to stay late to catch up on work. Seeing as we can’t very well take her with us, she must be disposed of.”

“B-but, what about that pegasus mare, the guard that you took with you out of the dungeon?” Golden stammered. “You took her hostage! Why not Witty?”

“Because we have one hostage too many,” the Archmage snarled, suddenly nose to nose with Golden. “It was never my plan to take the guard with us. That was all because of Darkflare’s stupidity. Luckily, it worked out for the best, and we now have an inside source of information. She—” he growled, pointing a hoof at the cowering form of Withers “—offers no such perk. She. Must. Be. Disposed. Of!”

“I…” Golden looked back and forth between the Archmage and Withers. “I… I can’t.”

The Archmage stopped circling, his ears perked. Slowly, he turned his head to stare at Golden, his gaze cold.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” he growled.

“I won’t,” Golden said, his voice slightly stronger than before. He glared at the Archmage, trying to intimidate him. However, it was countered by his shaking legs.

The Archmage stared at Ingot, his right eye narrowing slightly.

“I’m afraid,” he growled, his horn starting to spark, “you don’t have a choice!” Magic suddenly surged from the Archmage’s horn, erupting through the air towards Golden in a chaotic storm of energy. It struck him in the chest, immediately spreading across his body like fire.

Withers could only watch in horror as the sickly yellow magic surrounded Golden Ingot, seeming to seep into his coat. Said coat slowly began to lose its dirty golden color, switching instead to a dull, lifeless gray. His mane, as well as his eyes, followed suit, all losing their colors.

As soon as the last color had been drained from Golden’s coat, the magic around him ceased. He just stood there, staring off into the distance, a blank look upon his face.

“G-Golden?” Withers tentatively asked, swallowing thickly. His eyes snapped to her in an instant.

There was no warmth within his gaze. The twin orbs of gray stared down at her with an icy glare.

A sharp pain in her leg caused Withers to look down suddenly. There, stuck into her foreleg, was a syringe slowly emptying its contents into her body. Her eyes widened as she recognized it as the chemical they used on potentially aggressive humans.

On an average human, it relaxed the muscles, keeping the human calm. On a pony, however…

Withers could feel the cold, numbing sensation slowly seeping up her leg from the needle. Her leg wobbled slightly before collapsing beneath her weight. She whimpered as she heard the needle snap, part of it still stuck in her leg.

“Now,” the Archmage growled, the magic around his horn dying, causing the remains of the syringe to clatter to the ground. Glancing over at the now gray Golden Ingot, he motioned towards the crippled form of Withers. “If you would be so kind?”

Golden nodded once before advancing.

“G-Golden, w-what are you doing?” Withers slurred, the numb sensation slowly spreading across her bottom jaw. She tried to push herself back, away from the approaching stallion, but her legs weren’t responding. All she managed to do was topple backwards, her back landing against the tipped over examination table. She stared up at Golden, the whites of her eyes showing as the stallion paused in front of her.

“W-Why?” she choked out, barely able to move her jaw. “Why are you doing this?” Golden didn’t answer. Behind him, the Archmage chuckled darkly.

“Because, things do not happen,” he growled. “Things are made to happen.” Withers tried to reply, but couldn’t. Her jaw was no longer under her control. It just hung open, a trail of drool slowly dripping down onto her chest.

Reaching her body, Golden looked around, examining the scattered medical tools with a disinterested eye. He paused before leaning down to pick something up. Unable to move her head, Withers didn’t know what he was grabbing. All she could feel at the moment was her heart beating in her ears; the rest of her body now completely numb.

As Golden stood back up, Withers could see a large needle held in his hooves. The kind that they used to take blood samples from humans.

Golden stared at it for several seconds before, reaching up and removing the vial from the back of it. Leaning over, he grabbed her forehoof in his.

Withers tried to cry out, tried to scream for help, as she watched Golden slowly lower the needle to the vein in her leg. She couldn’t do anything to stop it, though. She could only watch in horror as the pony that used to be her husband pushed the needle into her leg. There was a brief moment in which nothing happened, but then, slowly, blood began to trickle from the opening. It flowed down her foreleg to where it started to pool on the tiled floor.

Picking up another needle, Golden did the same thing with her other foreleg before standing up and backing away. Twin rivers of blood flowed down Withers legs, staining her fur red. With the muscle relaxer now in full effect, she could only watch, trapped within her own body, as the life-giving substance was slowly drained from her body.

Golden snorted once before turning his back on her. Looking over at the Archmage, he tilted his head to the side, his face still expressionless.

“Good boy,” the Archmage grinned.

“This is all grand,” Darkflare grumbled from across the room, “but how are we going to get out of here? There’s no way we’re getting our humans, as well as these new ones, back down the tunnel before the guards arrive.”

“Don’t worry,” the Archmage said, waving a hoof through the air.

“Don’t worry?” Darkflare snarled, his hackles raising. “We have the entire Guard looking for us, we’ve just broken into a private facility in Canterlot Castle, we’re basically standing in the princesses' lap, and you tell me not to worry?! What are we just going to do? Just waltz out of here with an armed escort?” Just as he finished speaking, the door behind the Archmage swung open, revealing two Battlemages, decked out in their battle armor.

The intruders froze, their eyes widening at the sight of the armored guards. Horns began to glow, spells being prepared to be cast. Darkflare swore explosively, his eyes narrowing. The Battlemages just stood there, their expressions stoic. They didn’t seem at all surprised to see the group of unicorns within the lab, nor the humans out of their cages.

A smirk slowly spread across the Archmage’s face, and he chuckled. Ignoring the two Battlemages behind him, he looked at Darkflare before saying, “That, my buddy, is the plan.”

One of the Battlemages, a dark stallion with a light green mane, stepped forward and threw a salute.

“Sir, the passageway is clear,” he said, his voice firm. “We have to move quickly before the next patrol arrives. We have about fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you, Sergeant Glory,” the Archmage said, glancing over his shoulder at the stallion. Turning back to the stunned gang, he motioned with his hoof. “Coming, gentlemen? We shouldn’t keep our escort waiting.”

“I don’t believe it,” breathed Darkflare, slowly shaking his head. A smile slowly spread across his muzzle and he laughed. “You bloody bastard! You weren’t kiddin’ when you said you had influence in high places.”

Darkflare laughed again before turning and barking orders at the other unicorns, causing them to jump to attention. Horns began to spark, and, slowly but steadily, the pack of humans began to inch their way towards the main door of the lab. The Battlemages took the lead, guiding the unicorns and humans down the hallway.

Soon, only a few unicorns remained, trying their hardest to rally a female human that was being difficult. Every time they tried to move her forward, she jumped to the side, hissing at the unicorns.

“What’s the matter?” Darkflare hissed, glaring at the struggling unicorns. “We need to leave. Get her moving now!”

“We’re trying,” one of the unicorns whined. “She’s touched in the head!”

Darkflare opened his mouth to shout at them, but stopped when the Archmage held up a hoof.

“You all get out of here,” he said calmly, nodding towards the door. “I’ll handle this one.” Darkflare snorted once, but did as he was told. The unicorns filed out, leaving the human, the Archmage, and the bleeding form of Withers alone in the lab.

Silence fell over the room, broken only by the soft ‘drip’ of blood falling to the floor. The human looked at the Archmage in confusion, her body still tense. She shifted back and forth upon her heels, obviously waiting for him to make the first move.

For his part, the Archmage just stood there, his eyes closed as he took a deep breath. Opening his eyes, he glanced over at Withers. The pool of blood she was lying in had grown to an alarming size. The fetlocks on her forelegs were soaked in the crimson liquid that was dripping down from the needles embedded in her legs. Her eyes, once so full of life, were slowly beginning to dull over, her chest barely rising with each breath.

The Archmage watched her for several seconds before snorting. Leaving the mare to her fate, he turned instead to study the human female.

She was taller than average, yet thin; her lanky body almost looking sickly in appearance. Her blood-red hair was long, hanging down well over her shoulders. She watched the Archmage intently with bright green eyes, her brow furrowed.

The Archmage’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the human, his head tilting to the side. After several seconds, his horn started glowing. The human took a step back, growling. The magic wrapped around the Archmage’s throat, and he smiled.

“Hello, there.”

Sunny looked around at the carnage with a green face. Coming Dawn guards flitted back and forth around the room, searching for anything that could have been left behind. A medic was tending to the mare that was currently lying in a pool of her own blood, his face grim. He examined her body closely before, with a sigh, he glanced up at Ivory and shook his head.

Ivory swore explosively before kicking a nearby table, causing it to topple over. “Mother bucker!”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Sunny groaned, covering her mouth with a hoof. Turning her head away, she tried to get the image of the bloodied mare out of her head, but failed utterly. She could still see her vacant eyes, staring into nothingness.

“That just ain’t right,” Stacker muttered, shaking his head.

“It gets worse,” the medic grunted, standing up, his knees soaked in blood.

“How?” Ivory asked sharply, her eyes narrowing as her nostrils flared.

“Given what I’m seeing here, she was conscious the whole time she was bleeding out. There were traces of a human-strength muscle relaxant in her system. She bled to death, and there was nothing she could do about it.” Sunny heaved once before rushing over the nearest garbage can and emptying the contents of her stomach into it.

“It appears you were right, Ms. Breeze,” Ivory sighed, speaking over the sound of Sunny’s retching.

“What I don’t understand is, why did none of the regular guards hear this?” Stacker asked, glancing around at the room. “With this much destruction, somepony had to have heard it.”

“I talked with the Battlemages that were patrolling the area at the time,” Ivory said, eyeing the dead mare. “They swear they heard nothing at all that would indicate something was wrong. All was quiet.

“The only thing I don’t understand is—” she tore her gaze away from the blood and glanced around at the disheveled room “—where the buck did they disappear to? Fifty-five humans just up and vanish into the void?”

“Could they have snuck out through the hallway?” Sunny asked, lifting her head out of the waste bin.

“No, the guards would have seen them,” Stacker said with a shake of his head. “A group of unicorns leading a pack of humans? Not very subtle.” Sunny licked her teeth before spitting into the waste bin.

Everyone paused, their ears perking up, as a shout came from within one of the observation pits.“Ma’am, you need to see this!”

Sunny pulled herself from the bin with a groan, moving along with Stacker and Ivory to stand beside the observation room’s railing. Glancing down into the pit, she blinked in surprise when she saw one of the Coming Dawn guards standing next to a hole that had been torn into the floor.

“What do you have?” Stacker called down to the guard.

“It appears to be a tunnel, sir!” she called back. “I’m not sure where it leads, but the metal is warped inwards. I think it’s easy to say that they came in through here.”

“Then it’s easy to say that’s how they got out too,” Ivory growled. Lighting up her horn, she jumped over the railing and into the pit. Her horn flashed once, slowing her fall. Stacker flared his wings before jumping in too, Sunny following behind him.

“What’s the plan, lieutenant?” Stacker asked, glancing into the hole.

“We follow them,” Ivory growled. Her horn began to glow bright red and she jumped into the darkness below. Stacker glanced over at Sunny, giving her a quick nod before jumping in as well.

Sunny sighed once, shaking her head as she looked down into the tunnel.

“I hate being right,” she muttered to herself before, with a deep breath, she leapt into the tunnel, the guard following behind her.

The group traveled down the tunnel, the only light provided coming from Ivory’s horn. Stacker eyed the walls of the tunnel as he walked, a small frown on his face.

“Hand-carved,” he grunted. “Looks like it was dug by humans. I wonder how long they were at this.”

“Um, shouldn’t we have brought more guards with us?” Sunny asked, glancing around nervously. “What if this leads back to their hideout?”

“It won’t,” Ivory said, not glancing back. “We aren’t that lucky.”

They followed the tunnel for what seemed like forever. Sunny wasn’t sure how long they were down in the tunnel, but it seemed to stretch on for miles. Right when she was about to ask if they could turn around and head back, a glimmer of light appeared in the distance.

“Looks like the entrance,” Stacker grunted, eyeing the light cautiously.

“Yeah,” Ivory said before pausing. She sniffed the air tentatively. “You smell that?”

Stacker and Sunny sniffed the air as well.

“Fresh air?” Stacker muttered, blinking in confusion.

“But we’re underground,” Sunny said, taking another sniff. It was indeed fresh air, the faint hint of grass and trees carried through the air. A faint breeze ran across their coat, flowing deeper into the tunnel.

"I don’t…” Sunny began, but trailed off as the light grew, revealing the end of the tunnel.

“Well, that’s something you don’t see every day,” the guard muttered, her eyes widening.

“Oh, they’re just fucking with us now,” Stacker growled, shaking his head.

The tunnel came to an abrupt end, moonlight streaming in through a large circular hole. The floor of the tunnel dropped off in a sheer cliff, that extended hundreds of feet to the rocky ground below.

Sunny stuck her head out into the night air, glancing around in confusion. Her eyes widened when she realized what she was seeing.

The tunnel’s entrance originated from the side of Canterlot’s mountain.

“Well, I really don’t want to say it, but I think it’s safe to say that they didn’t go this way. That is, unless they taught the humans how to fly,” Stacker said before sighing in frustration. “Buck…”

Ivory stared out at the countryside of Equestria with a blank look on her face. She could see Ponyville in the distance, the soft glow of the streetlamps barely visible in the nocturnal gloom. She chewed on the inside of her cheek for several seconds before sighing explosively.

Shaking her head, she muttered, “Tempest is going to kill me.”

Author's Notes:

"The blood of the innocent is a precious thing, yet it is often wasted by the strong in order to water their so-called 'tree of peace'."

~Star Swirl the Bearded