HAIRLINE CRACKS

Summer ended.

Autumn came and went.

With the first, morning freeze came winter.

It wasn't much of an attraction, it WAS it's very beginning - November had just ended, and since it had been an unusually warm year (which anti-spectrumists ultimately blamed on the supposed by-products of rainbow refining), frost was having a hard time remaining in it's boreal state.

However, the early morning cold is all what it took winter to spoil the mood of a certain group, down at the humble town of Ponyville.

Place your bets, dear readers, and guess, who they are!

"GOOD DAMN COLD STARTS!"

The yard was mostly ruled by cold silence - MOSTLY. Celestia's sun had just risen, and the Ponyville Marshalling Yard was already up and ready to work away the dull day - MOSTLY.

"Jesus Christ, Diesel! Just SHUT UP!" BoZo growled "It's 6 in the morning, my wheels got frostbite already, and now, YOU won't bloody start! Just... MARVELOUS!"

"Well, EXCUUUSE ME for not being a mechanical abomination and have a kettle installed inside me!"

"KETTLE?! Why I OUGHTA--...!"

"Settle down, you two!" Twilight called out from the cab "The sooner we start, the sooner you'll warn up!"

"Hmph! Easy for YOU to say!" the shunter growled "YOU'RE travelling in the cab!"

No reply came.

Diesel sighed.

Ever since the cathartic put-down, at the end of summer, Twilight refused to talk to him.

At first, she didn't even came to work for month - her friends returned, one by one, having accepted or getting over the hurtful words, but the lavender unicorn was yet to come.

Four weeks later, she did arrive.

She didn't make eye contact with any of the engines - heck, she barely even looked at them - and wasn't very talkative. Her friends told them that they hadn't even seen her for a whole week after the Magic Duel - apart from Spike, who simply shook his head morosely when asked about those lost seven days.

Still, things were looking up - she was willing to talk to him indirectly by now, and she didn't just control him as if he was completely inanimate.

"OK. One more time." he growled, and started again. His engine coughed and neighed, a pillar of steam and half-burned fuel rising from his exhaust.

Finally, with a healthy backfire, the motor roared to life, and he was ready to work.

It was harder than usual - Equestria still had REAL winters with ACTUAL snow, so ice on the rails, snowbumps and goosebumps were in sight. Still far away though, but the buffers of the trucks were already cold as Hell.

"Yeesh!" the hybrid shrieked "What have you guys been doing, sleeping in a bloody freezer?!"

"Oi! We don't 'ave the pleasure to sleep in heated sheds!" one of the trucks barked "So leave us alone, you oversized boiler!"

BoZo's reply was firm biff on the line of trucks in front of, which made him recoil as well, hissing as he once again made contact with the cold buffers.

Diesel rolled his eyes, and set off to work - the time it took to start him up was enough for his own buffers to cool off and become numb - he didn't had to worry, though - no circulation, whatsoever: no freezing limbs getting sawn off, no gangrene.

He went about with his daily job, working on instinct, while being largely bored. BoZo kept messing about with the trucks, trying to do his work at least half decently...

The trucks were far more jumpy in the winter than during the other seasons, probably because of the numbing cold and silence winter brought along itself.

For a young (or immature) engine, this may have been funny - the trucks yelping every time you gave them even the smallest bump, literally jumping a few feet up the air for no physical reason -, but with time, this grew old.

Not for Steamie and Pinkie, though - they enjoyed rushing around the yard, biffing and bashing trucks into their places.

"It's work AND fun!" they said, before sneaking up to some wizened old vans and proceeding to give them minor heart attacks.

"Bleh!" Diesel remarked, and rumbled off to the other side of the yard, where 'Arry and Bert were shunting.

The Iron Twins and Rainbow Dash quickly got over their own issue - nothing that's untrue was said, and whatever had been said, could be ignored, as you shouldn't always give a crap about the sour things of life.

And to tel you the truth, R.D. didn't like holding a grudge, anyway - especially not with the Twins.

She had her doubts when she first met them - two big, boxy diesel shunters, with scrubby looks and dark smiles, working in a place that's physically unbearable, thanks to the heat, as they watch their peers - engines, trucks, coaches - meet their fate at the light of the cutter's torch. It was a grim job, they knew, but someone had to do it.

And if that "someone" had to be them, why couldn't they enjoy it?

Rainbow didn't liked their job.

She didn't like... Ending things.

She was more of a starter personality.

However, their attitude, their approach on life, and their way of thinking - dark as it was - is what she did like.

The two Class 08's had an almost philosophic look on life and the world that surrounded them, beyond the concrete walls of the smelters, beyond the rusted fence of the scrap yard.

The two thuggish diesels usually stayed in the background, and observed their social environment from a distance.

Now, they didn't really had the brains to truly make important and/or revolutionary discoveries, but what little they comprehended and could put down in words was enough.

They were smart, smart in a way Rainbow liked it: experienced. Wise. Tough as nails.

And even though they did join Diesel's rant, they still supported her. Her goals, her dreams, her self.

They were still by her side.

Almost as if...

...They were true friends.

"'S'up, Diesel!' Bert called out.

''Allo.' 'Arry added.

'Hey lads.' the shunter replied glumly.

"Oh, hi, Diesel!" Dash greeted him. Unlike the black Class 08, she was feeling bright. The banter he gave had made her realize a few things. Important things:

Brave as she was, it was still HER that needed a training in assertiveness, not Fluttershy.

So - slowly but surely - she began to organize her life. It was a pain at first, but by now, it worked like a charm.

"Wha's up, Diesel?" Bert muttered, observing his colleague "'ho toied yer wi'es i' a knot?"

"Meh..." he replied "It's this ruddy cold and peace! NOT ONLY it is freezing every bloody morning, it's also so BOOORING!"

"...And that's THAT much of a problem?" Rainbow asked, raising an eyebrow.

Diesel just sighed, rolling his eyes.

Ponies could train and warm up themselves, but engines could only be warmed up by their boilers, motors and generators - and even then, parts that weren't parts of the prime mover system, such as wheels, buffers, couplings and traction rods didn't warm up at all...

"So, anyways... Wha's u' wi'h ya la'ely?" 'Arry asked

"Well..."

As the three shunters discoursed, Twilight pulled Rainbow to the side.

"Hey, hey! Take it easy, Twilight!" the pegasus muttered "What's wrong?"

The unicorn checked if the engines were listening, but they were still busy conversing.

So, she turned to her friend.

"I think Diesel's right!" she whispered.

Rainbow gave her a blank look.

"So?" she asked "It's cold, and not much is going on. We had days like that before!"

"Yes, but this is different!" Twilight replied "The cold's alright, but there's something wrong! I can feel it!"

Again, the polychromatic mare just gave her a listless look.

"Yeah, well, that's easy to tell..." she sighed "You still haven't gotten over Diesel's little "hate speech", have ya?"

"W-What?!" Twilight mumbled "N-No! That's not it!"

"Oh really?" Dash asked "Then how come you're still not talking to him?"

"I..." the mare was about to retort, or more likely, back-pedal, but she stopped herself before saying something she'll regret - she was DEFINITELY picking up too many of the bad habits of her engine.

"Look..." she sighed "There's something wrong. There's a tension in the air, almost like electricity, that had been... Bothering me for day by now!"

"Ummm... Couldn't it simply be... Winter?" Rainbow pondered.

"Huh?!" Twilight recoiled "What do you mean?"

"Weeell..." the pegasus muttered, scratching her head "You do wear heavy, fluffy sweaters during winter, right?"

"Yeaah..." Twilight replied "Why?"

"Well, as you wear them, trot around in them, they get charged up with static electricity, right?"

"Yes, that could happen..."

"You can zap yourself when you touch metal objects, or can zap your friends, as if you used a Buzz Button, right?"

"...Yeah. Your point?"

"Umm... Didn't you notice that our fur grows thicker during the winter?"

Twilight's eyes widened.

"...WHUAT?!"

"Honestly? You didn't notice?" Dash was amazed "It happens to EVERYPONY, even the Princesses! Heck, it even happens to griffons and hippogriffs!"

The unicorn was still dumbfounded, so the pegasus went on.

"Sure, it's not the same for EVERYPONY... It's most noticeable on pegasi, because we fly around a lot, thus, we need the insulation..." she explained, shaking her slightly longer mane "Then there are the earth ponies, who often have to work in ice and snow, so their furs grow thick, too."

The mare sat down, slowly registering what she was hearing.

"Now that I think about it, unicorns' and alicorns' fur doesn't grows AS thick, as they usually rely on their magic to warm themselves up... Buuut, then again, I heard it's selective... Oh well, the point is, as our fur grows thicker, it becomes more sensitive to static charge."

She suddenly reached out, and zapped Twilight on the ear with her hoof.

"OW!"

"See?" she asked, chuckling.

"OK..." Twilight muttered "So much for the taste of electricity... But the feeling still remains!"

The pegasus placed her leg over her shoulder.

"Relax, Twilight..." she smiled, sympathetically "You're being a bit nervous, that's all... I mean, when did you sent your last letter?"

Twilight climbed out from under her leg's embrace.

"Rainbow, this is serious!" she snapped, then sighed "Recently, I felt this... Unexplainable tension, lingering in the air like smog... You can barely notice it, but it's there..."

She turned to face her friend.

"I can feel it, Dash! This isn't just static electricity, it's magic!"

She sighed again, and looked into the sky, towards the mountainside city of Canterlot.

"The kind of magic I only experienced once."

Dash seemed confused.

"Once?"

"Yes. In fact, I think, all of us had!"

Rainbow's eyes slowly widened, as realization sank in.

"You... You don't think...?" she whispered, inhaling sharply.

"I don't know..." Twilight replied, looking more worried than ever "I truly don't know..."

Around noon, Spamcan arrived, waddling with a train of tankers, once filled with apple cider.

"Anothe' loa' fo' Cante'lo'?" Bert asked him, as he parked down on a siding.

"*Hic* Some of it!" Spamcan smiled goofily. Applejack got out of his cab in the same manner - tipsy and unsure of the presence of her semicircular canals.

She flounced around, making arches and pirouettes that would make a ballerina grow green with envy, then proceeding to plop down beside the surprised and amazed Twilight and Rainbow.

"Haallooo, Gurls!" she chortled, muffling a belch "Wha'ssup?"

"A.J., have you been... Drinking?" Rainbow asked, unsure of whether she should be aghast or amused.

"Well, no manure, Share Lock!" the cowpony replied, proceeding to lay down on the ground.

"Applejack, you can't get wasted on the job!" Twilight snapped "You could've caused a serious accident!"

"But Ah didn'..." the drunken mare slurred "So sush yer flank an' git off mah face!"

And with that, she fell asleep.

Unlike the others, Applejack didn't sulked. On the night after the battle, she laid in her bed, thinking about what the diesels said. Being the Element of Honesty, she was able to accept the truth, but that was... Too much. Too painful.

However, she was made of tougher stuff than to weep about it.

Spamcan was notorious for many things, but malignancy wasn't one of them. So they quickly made up to each other, and resumed their jobs. There was SOME tension in the beginning, but it all melted away as they, once again, began to enjoy working together.

The rest of the Apple family, who wasn't informed about the Magic Duel, didn't notice much - A.J. and D199 acting a bit cold, a familiar blue mare showing up in town, but that's all.

During the last week of autumn, the Princesses always ordered extra amounts of Sweet Apple Cider, for the winter festivities - they literally stockpiled stuff, from food to charcoal, which was smart, given the fact that Canterlot was built on a mountainside, with only the open air, and a pair of railway tracks connecting it with the outer world - AND, there had been quite a few nasty stories going around, especially during the campfires in the early winter, about hikers and travelers who froze to death, and entire villages that had been snowed in, and were found deserted, or worse, filled with emancipated corpses covered in bite marks...

None of these stories were ever proven, but there WERE disappearances in the winter, and certain towns and villages disappeared from the maps from time to time.

Whether it was the paranoia of the nobles, or the precaution of the Princesses, Canterlot always gathered supplies for the winter, and then some, for the near-by villages as well.

But rumor had it that most of it eventually went to waste, so the mare and the Class 46 decided to take "precautions" as well.

As a result, they brought five tankers less than the required amount (the missing tankers would eventually be discovered a few decades later, out-shored in a gassy part of Froggy Bottom Bog), and were surprisingly merry (and red in the face).

Spamcan was still high as a kite caught by alcohol clouds, so the others had trouble getting the truth out of him - although, it would've been even harder in Applejack's case.

"C'mon, la'! Tell us wha' 'appen'd!" 'Arry snapped.

"Yeah, spill de bea's..." Bert added.

"*UUUUUURP!* Ya cun rea' i' in th' serie' epilogue!" the groggy goods diesel grumbled "O' in thi' 'pisode's script!"

"...Wha'...?" the twins asked in unison.

"What do we do now?" the pegasus "She just won't wake up!"

They had been shaking the cowpony for quite a few minutes by then, and all she did was grumble, then turn to her other side.

Twilight's original solution was using magic, but then, she remembered what a dangerous mixture alcohol and sorcery was - the public pagoda at the town limits was still being rebuilt after the Mane 6's E.I. (Everypony In) trash party.

Rainbow eventually lost patience, and suggested a kick in the muzzle, but Twilight reminded her that their friend was still drunk, which made her even more volatile than a Zap Apple Cider-Moonshine-Magic cocktail, should she be awakened too early.

"I'd say you let her rest."

The two mares looked up to see Rarity, trotting away from Old Stuck-Up's cab. It had been the Midday Express, but the return journey from Manehattan to Canterlot had been canceled, so the Class 40 left the coaches there, and returned with his driver - apparently, it was an urgency.

"Rarity?!" Rainbow muttered "What are you doing here?! Shouldn't you be in Manehattan?"

"Not today, it seems..." the unicorn replied, sounding perplexed "The other half of our usual run was... Postponed, indefinitely."

"So was our daily routine at the Smelters." the cyan pegasus remembered.

Stuck-Up rolled beside his peers.

"Oi, wha's goin' on 'ere?" 'Arry grunted.

"What do you mean "what's going on here"?" the express engine snorted "We're being called in, one by one!"

"That's right..." BoZo pondered, rolling up to them "AND, it seems that we also being kept away from Canterlot." he went on.

"Canterlot?" Stuck-Up muttered, before retorting "I've been there just this morning, you pleb! What are you on about?"

"Yeah, bu', you we'e th' o'ly train GOIN' t' Can'e'lo'!" Bert replied "No othe' pass'nge' trains wen' dere dis mo'nin'..."

"An' com' th' thin' o' i', Spamcan's 'ad th' o'ly freigh' trai' goin' dere!" 'Arry added, thoughtfully.

"Well, that certainly IS odd..." Stuck-Up admitted, after a bit of pause "I wasn't dropping off any passengers - I was only picking them up. LOTS of them!"

Steamie puffed up to the group, with Pinkie jumping out of his cab.

"Girls! Girls!" she jelled, as she ran up to them "I just heard some weird things from the shunters! Something's not right!"

"See? Told you." Twilight whispered to the pegasus, who merely rolled her eyes.

"What's wrong, darling?" Rarity asked, as Pinkie skidded to a stop.

"There's... Something... Wrong... In Canterlot!" she huffed, catching her breath "I heard it from the shunters!"

"Pinkie, dear, the shunters always gossip about high society." Rarity replied, whisking her hoof "The more dirty secrets they find out about the upperclass, the better! For them, that is..." she quickly added.

"But this is different!" Pinkie replied "Last night, there were several passenger trains commuting between Canterlot and big cities far away from it, the nearest one being Manehattan!"

"So?" Dash asked.

"These trains weren't TAKING anyone TOO Canterlot." the party pony explained, sounding alarmed "They only TOOK them FROM Canterlot!"

"The Midday Express today ran from Canterlot to Manehattan, and the return journey was cancelled!" Rarity added "And in Canterlot Central everypony got in as fast as possible. We even had to ad three extra coaches and an additional luggage van!"

"And that's not all!" the pink mare put in "This morning, the shunters did a routine check on Spamcan's train, and found out that only FIVE tankers were filled with cider! The rest of them had weird stuff in it..."

The others exchanged worried looks. Applejack shifted in her sleep.

"...What sort of stuff, darling?" Rarity asked, with a bit of hesitation.

"They were like props!" the mare replied.

"Props?"

"Yeah! Old, musty books with blank pages, carved stones and creepy, weird statues, and orbs that kept glowing..."

"Enchanted equipment!" the two unicorns exclaimed in unison.

"Why would the Princesses need those?" Steamie asked "Aren't they powerful enough?"

The mares and the engines exchanged puzzled looks.

Slowly, Twilight's eyes widened.

"If they had to resort to amulets, banned spell books, power collectors and such, then whatever is going on, it's something that requires power that is beyond the Princesses' capabilities!"

"Tha' soun's ruddy dange'ous!" Bert muttered.

Suddenly, a spark came to his eye.

"Evacuation!" he gasped.

"What?!" the others asked.

"Th' ci'isens ar' bein' evacua'ed from Can'e'lo'!" the shunter explained.

"We figured THAT out, dipshit!" Diesel growled "But the question is: why?"

"...B'cause o' th' dange'?" Bert asked, nonchalantly.

"No shit, Sherlock!" a voice barked.

The engines and the mares looked up, as a deep horn moaned in the crisp air.

It was CoBo - he and Gilda had arrived into the yard in the few minutes when they were discussing the events.

Tailgating them was Derek and Fluttershy, Pip and Emma, with their drivers, Cloud Chaser and Flitter, the Breakfather with Dr. Whooves on board, followed closely by Vac and Derpy, then Cromwell, only accompanied by his tender, Mr. Bottomsly, and the line ended with Brush, bringing Zecora in his cab.

"What's this?!" Diesel snapped "There weren't any get-togethers or other sentimental crap planned for today!"

"This is odd..." Derek pondered "Something's not right."

"Of course something's not right, you dunce!" Stuck-Up sniffed "Canterlot's been evacuated, and these drunkards have been legally smuggling magical accessories into it."

"Drunkards?" the Doctor muttered, eyeing up the sleeping mare and the wasted diesel.

"I swear, dey TOL' us th' ta'e th' tan'ers, drin' dem dry, an' den dump 'em in th' swamps!" Spamcan protested in a plastered manner, as a black mushroom cloud blasted out from his exhausts, carrying the strong smell of smoked cider.

"Look, whatever's going on in Canterlot, it has the caliber of a smaller Armageddon." Cromwell cut in "We HAVE to investigate."

"No, we don't." the Doctor replied, stomping the ground. He had never seemed so authoritative before "Whatever is going on up there, we cannot leave Ponyville. We've all been ordered here, and..."

"All?" Steamie asked, cutting him off.

"Yes, all." the stallion uttered dryly.

"Then where's Trixie?"

"Or Bowler, for that matter?" his driver asked.

Everyone looked around.

The Doctor let loose of a long, exasperated sigh.

"Great..."

"I doubt we're supposed to be here..." the green engine muttered.

He was rolling along on a pair of magical tracks, summoned by his driver - just barely, though.

Trixie's magic improved a lot while she was away from Ponyville, which didn't stopped with her return, momentary death, and the months she spent, working on Equestrian Rail, or more properly, the Other Railway - she didn't really worked with any other ponies or engines.

But while her magic improved, her mood didn't.

She did kept her end of the unspoken "deal" she made with the Class 40: she cleaned him herself, using her magic, quickly making Bowler the cleanest - if abnormally shiny - diesel in the fleet. However, not even the shadow of a smile could be noticed on her face.

Her routine became monotonous: wake up, shower, clean D261, get daily assignments, pull the usual trains, pull the assigned trains, go back to the shed, clean Bowler, shower, back to bed.

After some time, Gilda began to complain about waking up to sobbing in the middle of the night, and despite the showers and the increasingly shorter and shorter working hours, Trixie's eyes were weary, puffy and red, due to all the crying.

The overall atmosphere in the yard dropped like an anvil on Wile E. Coyote's head.

The blue mare didn't really talk with the others, moving about in the sheds like a ghost, barely uttering more than one-, or two-word answers. Still feeling guilty, Twilight didn't even dared to talk with her former rival - nor could she talk to Diesel. She felt... Smothered by all the negativity and bitterness that radiated from the engine on that faithful day, and couldn't bring herself to talk with him - not noticing that everypony thought she was giving him the silence treatment.

The others recovered, one by one - their engines were there to support them.

Pinkie couldn't stay sad with the Cakes and Steamie around. They were just too cheery and kind to just leave her sulking.

Steamie proven to be a great help as well - young and naive as he was, he dealt with the grizzly nature of the diesels day after day, and aided the mare on her stumbling path out of emotional darkness, without either of them noticing.

Applejack and Spamcan quickly patched things up - they couldn't let one argument stop them from work, and with work, comes play. They made amends quite soon.

Rainbow Dash had the trust and support of the two most thuggish shunters on this side of Equestria, and that's saying something - not only was she backed up by two pals, she was also being outstandingly awesome!

Fluttershy was never the one who (could) held anger for long, and Derek was quick to apologize. They both agreed to work on her (social) problems, while the workmen desperately tried to find a way to end the Class 17's recurring (cooling system-related) issues.

Rarity and Old Stuck-Up treated each other coldly for weeks on end. Stuck-Up held out fine, it wasn't the first time he had a disagreement with his driver. Neither was it the first time he had no-one to talk to but his incompetent, pleb colleagues (aside from the cowardly Bowler and the eccentric Cromwell) - Spamcan, the filthiest prole he had ever seen, with the Iron Twins being close seconds, the feeble little Derek and the elderly BoZo. Speaking of elderly, there was that senile dingbat, the Breakfather, and the little tin toy that their current, uugh... Controller, chairman, pardon, chairmare and director built - what was his name? Jugglenaught, or something? He didn't care really.

Then there was Pip and Emma, the chirpy little token females, and Steamie, the rolling psychological hazard - no WONDER why he got that irritating pink pile of cotton candy and rubber plastic to be his driver.

The air-headed Vac or the gullible Brush didn't served as much of a conversing partner, either.

And CoBo just flat-out hated everyone.

But the worst had to be Diesel - the six wheeled little twat was a major pain in the rear cab, a true bastard among them. And while he was LIGHT YEARS from high society, the express engine had to admit one thing: he truly represented what the Other Railway stood for, no matter the year - he was the quintessential British Rail diesel when he first rolled out of the works, and he still is.

But that didn't helped how much of a massive git he was.

Stuck-Up could tolerate them - just barely - and continued his work.

Rarity had never been more insulted in her life like she was that day, and even though deep down, in her sore heart, she knew they were right, she would never admit it to herself.

She didn't even came in in the first week - she made progress with her dresses instead, played with Sweetie Belle, visited the spa... Overall, she was acting like a normal mare, who has NO RELATION to the railway.

But then...

Then came a feeling, a longing, burning feeling, that tore through her aching ego, much like a chainsaw that tears through one's hoof - painfully.

She wouldn't admit at first, but she missed the visiting the sheds - truth to be told, both she, and the mares made more and more frequent visits ever since the incident with... Uuuugh! Montgomery, the militant, megalomaniac shunter, who took over the yard...

Actually, the diesels were right, for once - about nicknaming him "Dick", that is.

And with her visits becoming more frequent, Rarity had more time to get acquainted with the engines of her friends - Fluttershy's mix traffic engine, the mild-mannered and often sick Derek, Pinkie's tank engine, the (admittedly) cheerful-on-a-near-psychotic-level Steamie, Applejack's vulgar, but otherwise decent, hard working goods engine, Spamcan, Rainbow Dash's two, ruffian, but also very experienced shunters, 'Arry and Bert, the honorable, engine-turned-brake-van-turned-engine Breakfather (undisputed Don of the Yard, according to him), the aloof gas-turbine engine Cromwell and his well-mannered, if gassy tender, Mr. Bottomsly, the slightly immature Vac, Derpy's friend, and the odd-job Juggernaut, the... Curious rail lorry their majesties and Mr. Alexei had built, and Gilda's cold and calm Class 28 Metrovick diesel, CoBo...

And, of course, who could forget Twilight's own, jet black Class 08 shunter, the embittered Devious Diesel?

Really, who could?

The only engine she didn't really managed to talk with during those days was Bowler, the clean-obsessed green diesel, the same kind as Old Stuck-Up. The quaint engine managed to remain irrelevant in the scenery, despite his near-blindingly polished buffers.

It wasn't until that... Dreadful duel that he finally became noticed.

And now, Rarity desperately wanted to talk to him. Not because she felt guilty for not talking to him before - he sorta didn't made any attempt to really socialize with anypony -, but for him being the engine of Trixie, apparently, he surely knew something about her emotional state.

She simply HAD to come back to the sheds, but her ego wouldn't let her. Thankfully, Sweetie Belle saw her struggle, and suggested that they visit Old Stuck-Up.

The mare and the engine made up with each other, coldly and formally, but as she resumed her work, the enjoyment and pride that came with it returned, and soon, she and Stuck-Up were on good terms once more.

However, Trixie's state was still concerning.

She kept herself clean, and, since she practically lived on the sheds (sharing one of the flats built above the sidings with Gilda), she showed up to work every day. Like Gilda, she was payed well as an engineer, and quickly learned the controls, signals, rules, everything - something which not even Twilight, the most studious equine she ever knew, could achieve.

But she remained listless and melancholic, barely speaking.

Her magic was truly a sight of wonder, but without her usual attitude to back it up, it lost it's lustrum... It was actually scary how emotionless she was growing...

All the workponies were concerned about her, especially the Mane 6, Dr. Whooves, and Derpy.

Spike tried to talk to her, but he reported that it felt like a mutual look-right-through-me race.

Gilda didn't wanted to bother her by (or just didn't bother) talking to her, so she left her alone.

The diesels, albeit initially concerned, quickly forgot about Trixie - all, except Bowler.

They didn't bothered to help her, and what's worse, with the former showmare being so listless, her lethargic attitude sucked out the joy and comfort from the others as well. This made the engines return to their "normal", otherworldly self - Bowler being a selfish hypochondriac and neat freak, Stuck-Up being an arrogant, posh twat, Spamcan returning to his macho, hard-nut douchebaggery, Steamie losing sight of true happiness and reverting to his semi-psychotic self, Derek loosing his recently gained morale and becoming weedy and a great big softie once more, 'Arry & Bert loosing their sense of decency and philosophic approach, and returning to their usual vulgarity, brutality and idiocracy, and so on...

This brought a dark veil over the yards - the ponies enjoyed their work less and less, and the engines felt "at home", more and more.

The mares had to cope with their increasingly intolerable nature, while they tried to help Trixie the best they could, but things were slipping out of their hooves.

As the dark veil descended over the yards, the mares began to enjoy their time spent there less and less, and once again, their doubts awoke with their petty anguishes... Doubts, that eased sight of what is truly essential:

Their friendship weakened.

And with it, so did a crust...

A crust...

Of solid stone...

"Trixie, look, we gotta get out of here!" the passenger engine exclaimed "We weren't supposed to be here in the first place! The others are waiting for us, you can barely conjure these rails, and the entire city looks like a ghost town!"

The mare didn't reply...

"Something's wrong..." Bowler attempted again, on a hushed tone "I can... Feel it..."

Not even the dramatic effect worked on her now!

They were in the Royal Gardens...

Neatly cut hedges and shrubbery, barren trees, reaching up into the sky like hands, graceful, even in such a dismal state.

They... Well, Bowler, to be exact, was following the narrow, gravel-paved path that snaked around the garden.

Statues where everywhere, depitching ponies doing various actions...

"I wonder..." the Class 40 thought "...If those were once actually living ponies that the Princess turned into stone..."

He had to chuckle at his own "wit".

"Nooo, it can't be..."

He suddenly wasn't sure.

"Can it...?"

Sitting inside his cab, Trixie had no time to watch the statues - conjuring rails just the right size, and constantly moving underneath Bowler so that he had something to run on was tiring, even with her increased magical abilities. She sighed, wiping the sweat from her brow, not letting it fall on the shiny surface of the cab floor.

Keeping the diesel squeaky clean became sort of a habit. I dulled the pain, somewhat, and helping him, the only one who still cared for her... Actually felt good. She smiled to herself, before taking a deep breath, and reinforcing the spell - it'll be only a few more yards.

Her horn was red hot, and ached badly, though, not as bad as it did on... That day, and her pain tolerance was pushed out greatly.

The diesel kept rolling at a steady pace - if he was too quick, he'd fall of the rails, and the same thing would happen if he was to slow.

Up ahead, a statue came into view.

It was hazy first, and Bowler found it hard to make out it's shape.

"Welp, off to the ophthalmologist with me..." he thought, as he drew closer to the sculpture.

However, once he could make it out...

"Oh no... Nononononono! NO!" he muttered, and applied his brakes.

Trixie felt a jolt, and the tension in her horn eased. She was cross, of course - the stone statue in question was still far away.

On the other hoof, she was relieved that the near-torturous amount of magic she was putting out could be toned down.

With a deep sigh, she summoned two long strips of rail to hold up Bowler, turned his engine off, and got out of the cab.

"You really want to do this, don't you?" Bowler asked, dispassionately.

Walking down on the gravel path, she couldn't keep her eyes off the sculpture...

It curved and arched in odd, sharp turns, forming the figure of a creature.

A creature that EVERYPONY knew all too well.

She felt a slight tingle of fear... But that was quickly snubbed by the overwhelming feeling of gloom and listlessness.

She trotted, or more like hovered, towards it. Sensations of anger, joy, envy, malice, fear - all numbed by lethargy and discouragement.

"Trixie! Stop! It's dangerous!" the engine yelled, he himself unsure, why.

The mare didn't stop. She just trotted forward, as if possessed.

The edge of her vision began to blur. Soon, she lost her peripheral sight. It was the statue that mattered.

She heard it.

Him... Calling out to her.

"You really shouldn't do it!" Bowler growled, more angry than anxious this time.

Trixie didn't reply.

She could now clearly make out the statue, all it's curves and cuts, it's odd shape and design... And a faint, but clearly visible, ugly crack that extended upon it's surface vertically.

She trotted on, her mood as flat as the ground, as the world warped around her.

Objects lost their shape and form.

The greenery died or twisted out in a warped, sick manner.

The trees near by, the clouds in the sky, the castle itself became tainted with corruption never seen or heard of before.

She didn't care.

What did it mattered to her, anyway?

She was nothing.

No name.

No fame.

No fortune.

No pride.

No talent...

No mark...

She had nothing!

"Trixie! Come back here! There's no point doing this!" the diesel shouted... Somehow, he didn't notice the blurring surroundings, or his increasing anger which grew without a reason - he just wanted out!

They shouldn't be in the gardens, anyway! And the only thing holding him back was that... Stupid mare!

Mentioned mare slowed her pace - there was no need to rush. The statue was only a few meters away.

It towered over her greatly. It had to be at least four or five times her size.

Not that she served as any measure. She was quite sure that even Twilight Sparkle towered over her - not only in talent, but in height as well.

A small cinder of a feeling - anger? envy? - flared in deep down in her heart. But it quickly smothered by the darkness residing in it.

She was few trots away from the base of the sculpture.

She could even read out the name on the brass plaque.

Her hoof reached out, just barely touching it's edge...

"For God's sake, cut the crap come back here...!" Bowler yelled across the yard. He was quite furious by now, so furious that he didn't notice the unnatural saturation of his colors: his face growing pale, his green coat becoming darker, the hazard yellow paint on his front and the red on his buffer plate growing dense in hue, his shiny buffers becoming blindingly bright, and the shades behind his cab windows growing black.

He glared after the gray (gray?) mare, standing beside the statue.

Her fur was now completely gray, crest and mane turned ashen, as she stared at the statue in front of her.

"Who AM I?" she pondered "What is my purpose?"

The statue didn't reply.

She read the name on the board again.

"GET BACK HERE, YOU STUPID NAG!" Bowler hollered from somewhere beyond her interest.

"Does it really matter... Who I am? Or... What I do? I've no talent."

Her gaze wandered up, setting on the center of the crack. Her horn lit up.

"And what does it matter... Whatever I do?"

The shadow of a smile crossed her face.

The next second, her horn began to glow with a dark blue light, as it charged up with magic, different from what she used to have.

The explosion lit up the cloudy sky.

"TIA!"

The palace was a mess. The remaining guards made haste, blocking all entrances and exits, apart from one - the main doors.

"Sister! Calm down!" the elder princess uttered, pulling her sibling close to herself, her larger wings embracing her little sister's smaller frame.

She was crying.

Never, in her life, did she saw her cry in terror...

Her blood curdled...

"Luna! Please..." she uttered softly, hugging her tightly "Calm down!"

The Princess of the Night shivered in fear, her tears matting both of their furs.

The guards kept rushing around, higher officers yelling commands, privates carrying supplies.

They tried to secure the castle.

And what did they did?

Comfort each other.

Shame burned fiercely in both of them, but for Luna, fear was more oppressive, and for Celestia, sorrow ruled over.

But beyond that, beyond their terror and anguish, beyond their common sense and comprehension, they felt something else...

Longing...

Alexei entered, his usual coat exchanged for a dark gray, Mao-suit resembling coat with no rank or insignia, just a symbol above his chest on the left - a red circle with an 'X' in it, and the number 11612 beneath it in Stencil print - the back of his coat bore the same number.

His peaked railway officer cap replaced by his original black, Swiss military beret, baring a pin of the same symbol on it's front.

His trousers black, his shoes replaced by steel-soled boots.

"It's time..." he uttered coldly "To make things right, once and for all!"

The two alicorns, Celestia Amaterasu Solaris, Princess of the Day, and Luna Tsuki Selene, Princess of the Night, Goddesses of the Sun and the Moon...

...Felt a quite mortal chill ran down their spines...

They saw the light down in Ponyville.

"Damn..." Spamcan uttered.

"Ya don' thin'..." 'Arry grunted.

"Ah hop' no'..." Bert mumbled.

"Now really, guys..." CoBo grumbled "Think clearly. TWO members of us are missing, and there was an explosion in Canterlot, which has been evacuated. Now, I doubt there's any threat of bombing in Equestria, which leaves us with the only possibility: that something "magical" - in the worst sense of the word - has occurred..."

"Which, in turn, means that we have to do something!" Derek declared.

"...Have to?" Gilda asked.

"Well, not US." Stuck-Up replied, looking at the Mane 6 "YOU, ladies, are the Elements of Harmony, and close friends to the Princesses, NOT US."

"So... You're not going to help, huh?" Rainbow asked, unimpressed.

"I never said that." the express engine replied, hastily, before turning his gaze to two of his colleges.

"'Arry? Bert?" he spoke in a serious manner "Bring in... The guns."

Without a word (they would've nodded, but, since they had no necks), the two shunters reversed from the sidings, into the large warehouse at the corner of the yard.

"What do you mean by... "Guns"?" Twilight asked, unsure of if she really wanted to hear the answer.

"These..." Diesel replied, gazing at the warehouse's dark entrance.

From within, the growling engines could be heard.

Soon enough, 'Arry and Bert, one beside the other, rumbled out of the hangar...

...Pulling two incredibly long trains of rail army supplies - howitzers, rocket launchers, anti-air and anti-tank weaponry, troops wagons, militarized rotary snow ploughs (yeah, you know what those were meant to plough), Tesla coils, flatbeds and low-loaders carrying tanks, trucks, cannons, bombs and missiles. And crowning the trains, at the very back, were robust, angular wagons, made of riveted, stainless steel. Their roofs opened, and with ominous zooming, the largest missiles of all erected from them, piercing the sky.

As the mares gawked, jaws reaching the ground, Diesel smirked.

"What? You thought we'd come to a new world unprepared?"

To be continued...