I'm in the middle of a trick when I see her. Pulling a spiraling corkscrew — that's full bodily rotation while keeping a flight path in a descending curve. Only a lead-in to the Dash Flash, but it's not an easy trick. Like I'd bother with easy tricks.

But I see her and that pulls me out, in a cancel that would leave a lesser flyer's head spinning. Probably just the sight of it made Fluttershy dizzy on the ground below. Her voice filters up to me, but it's too soft to hear. I've tried everything, but that girl still needs to work on volume.

But. Her. The one I saw.

She's watching too, and it's not like I'd ever turn down an audience. But not her, not in that stupid dorky purple hat and stupid dorky cape and stupid dorky black mask covering her face. Just the sight of her is like ripping the scab off an old wound.

I'm not going to get anything done until I deal with her though. I hang there in the air for one minute longer, watching her. Figuring out her escape routes.

I don't know who's under that mask but it must be someone awfully stupid, because she's got nowhere to hide. And if you wanna try and outrun the Rainbow Dash? Be my guest.

I'm on her in a flash, and she doesn't so much as flinch. Disappointing. She just stands there, cape billowing out behind her from the wind of my arrival.

Dammit. It looks pretty cool.

"Hey. Who are you?" I ask.

I don't see any wings. Could be a horn but hard to tell with the hat. But… it’s not one of my friends. I know. They wouldn’t do this to me again.

She's not answering me. I stomp my forehoof down. Something about it, about the whole situation... it’s starting to tick me off.

"Look, you can take the mask off, or I can take it off for you."

She doesn't answer.

Good. I prefer the difficult way.

I jump forward to tackle her and get a hoof in the barrel for my trouble. She's a scrapper, and before I know it we're trading blows. I take a hit to the head that sets my ears ringing but keep on. Then she lashes out – deliberately – to kick me right in the right foreleg. It hurts like hell, right where I had hurt it before, earlier when I had… something.

She kicks it again and I have to hold back a whine. Going right after where I was already injured.

She wants to fight dirty? Bring it on, sister.

My teeth sink into her shoulder, through the flimsy uniform, and I taste something metallic and tangy. She cries out for the first time and I spit the blood out and grin. That distraction lets me twist in her hooves and get a back leg in. I kick her right in the chest and hear her gasp out.

Hard to put up much of a fight when you’re gasping for breath. I wrestle her to the ground and pin her. She's still wiggling but I think I've knocked the fight out of her.

Which means it's time to claim my prize. I reach out with a hoof to flick the stupid hat away and pull off her stupid mask.

The face underneath is my own. I'm left looking into magenta eyes flickering with annoyance.

It floors me for a minute. What is this? Some kind of dream?

My leg’s still hurting though, and the pain feels absolutely real.

She's still staring at me. Nope. Much easier answer.

I punch the changeling in the face, and hear something crack satisfyingly under my hoof.

She doesn't transform. Spits out a tooth and sits there bleeding at me.

I’m struck by a realization. It’s just like a Daring Do novel. #23, to be precise, Daring Do and the Key of Karpathia. As part of an initiation ritual while infiltrating a cult, she has to go through a test of character and ends up facing her worst fears. Which is herself.

Seemed pretty stupid at first to me. You deal with snakes and spiders and deadly traps all day long and your biggest problem is some sort of self-confidence mumbo jumbo? Psh.

But I get it, too. She’s not afraid of anything. But she’s afraid that she’ll fail. That one day she’ll be too weak. Make a mistake. Let her friends down.

Again.

Is it some kind of lesson? Some kind of attack?

I’m confused. I’m angry.

I gauge which feeling I'd rather resolve.

There'd be time for questions later. My foreleg pulls back for a second blow.

She looks surprised as my hoof slams into her face.

The autographs are the best part. It’s normally foals, yeah, but there’s something about their excitement that’s awesome. The adults normally try to play it cool, but the kids? You can really tell that you’re making their whole day. If not month.

I sport a cocky smile throughout. Not arrogant. Just cool. Gotta look good – normally they ask before taking pictures, but some ponies get a little too excited.

And I mean c’mon. Who could blame them?

“We’re about out of time,” Spitfire whispers in my ear. I nod, but make her wait. Everypony waited in line, everypony is going to get the full Rainbow Dash experience. I can tell the kid and his parents at the end of the line appreciate it too. The mother shoots me a grateful look while kid’s trying to climb up on my back.

I grin to myself and toss the kid up to land right between my wings. We get a picture with me in takeoff pose #3 and I know that colt’s gonna be the envy of every foal in his class. He’s not eager to leave, but his parents pry him away.

Just in time, too. Spitfire’s looking a little peeved.

“Chill,” I said. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

She sighs and sets off down the halls, me trotting behind her.

“We’ve gotta get you out of that flightsuit and into something more formal for the meeting with the Princesses.”

I roll my eyes, but she’s not even looking. “I’m telling you, Celestia and Luna aren’t gonna care.”

“Not worth the risk. We’ve got to get signoff on the routine for the Summer Sun Celebration, and that’s Manehattan this year. Their airspace is already a complete mess, and someone is insisting on all new tricks.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

We end up at the door to my office. “Commander Rainbow Dash” it says, in gold letters on the door.

I stop to appreciate it for a moment before Spitfire pushes me inside.

I keep my office pretty neat. At least I keep all the stupid paperwork in one pile on the big desk. Spitfire’s already over at the wardrobe, pulling out some kind of fancy vest and tie. I busy myself with looking over the collection in my trophy case.

They’re all there. Races, style competitions, a plaque for Equestria’s Hottest Mare last year. And over in the back, a special one. The crown I won for Best Young Flyer.

There isn’t an award I haven’t won, at this point.

I catch my reflection in the glass. I’m frowning. I stop to consider that.

“What am I doing?” I ask, out loud.

Spitfire sighs again loudly. One of those ‘enough with the stupid questions’ sighs. “You’re getting dressed to meet with the Princesses.”

“After that.”

She pulls out a day planner and starts leafing through it. “Meeting the new Wonderbolt candidates, going over any potential changes in choreography after the meeting with the Princess, then some training before dinner. Then we’ve got to put in appearances at small soiree in Canterlot, and—”

“No,” I say. “Okay, uh. What’s my goal? What’s the next big thing? Where am I going from here?”

She pulls her shades down to meet my eyes, frowning slightly. “I’m sorry?”

I’m starting to breathe heavily now, for some reason. “This isn’t right.” I stomp my hoof against the ground, and wince at a sudden jolt of pain. I forgot that I had hurt my leg. When had I hurt my leg?

“Are you okay?” Spitfire says.

I shake my head hard. Isn’t this what I wanted? Everything I wanted?

If this is where I am, what’s my dream now?

I’m not moving forward. I’m drowning.

“Dash!” Spitfire says.

I try to focus my thoughts, but my head’s fuzzy all of a sudden. I grit my teeth and twist my hoof against the floor, the pain in my leg somehow grounding me, as anger builds in my gut.

“This is all wrong!” I say. My head whips around the room before settling on the chair sitting behind my desk.

That’ll do.

It hits the window with a huge crash, shards of glass spraying outward.

Spitfire yells something, and I turn to her, fire in my glare.

I meet her eyes and they’re magenta. They stare back at me coldly, and then Spitfire shakes her head.

I’m behind. Just barely. That scrawny colt with the big wings is turning out to be a better flyer than I expected, but the race isn’t over until you cross the finish line.

Unfortunately, that line’s also coming up pretty fast.

I put another burst of speed on, relishing the burn in my wings. He’s there, a brown blur in front of me, but I can still win this. The wind whipping past feels more and more solid as I get close to the breaking point.

I can feel the pressure building and if not for my lips being blown back, I’d be grinning like crazy right now. A sonic rainboom right at the finish line? It doesn’t get classier than that. Dashier than that? That’s a good one. Save that one for the post-race winner’s conference.

I use every muscle to push further forward. My front legs stretch out. All it’s gonna take is an inch more and—

My right foreleg twinges, hard, throwing off my concentration. I should have known better flying with it still hurt from…

Why the hell was my leg hurt?

My wings flare open and the wind hits them hard, cutting my speed in such a rapid deceleration that it hurts. But not like my leg. Different. I’m still moving forward but only due to inertia, and I can see the colt in the lead rocketing ahead to the end of the course.

I blink hard and clench my teeth together. Without the wind roaring in my ears, I can hear them now. My friends, cheering me on. Well. From the sounds of it, worried about me now.

I dip and coast to the side as another pair of racers blaze past, almost hitting me, and I see the five on a cloud, alongside plenty of other spectators.

I touch down and the hurt leg buckles beneath me, causing me to trip forward and almost crash into some frivolous grey pegasus. The six are around me in an instant.

My eyes shut and I focus on the pain. It’s coursing in my head now, too. Pulsing in time with the ache in my leg. It hurts good, and I feel the anger coming back, along with fragments...

Fragments, but enough.

I open them again and see Twilight in front of me, concerned. She’s talking, saying something, but it’s all white noise to me. I push her aside, looking for—

There she is. Rarity’s watching me. Looking nervous in a way the other girls aren’t.

“Rainbow Dash always dresses in style,” I say.

It’s not something I’d ever say. That’s the point. Wasn’t my idea to begin with.

“Rainbow Dash always dresses in style.” I’m too upset to be embarrassed.

Her mouth opens. “Rainbow, dear, I… don’t know. Forgot.”

My teeth are bared but it’s not a smile. Rarity would never forget. She knows what I’m talking about but she doesn’t know the right words.

So. They’re in my head somehow.

I take off, slamming into her and pinning her down before anyone else can react. I regret that it’s just a cloud. Would rather it hurt. Twilight immediately moves towards us and I growl at her, glad to see her to stop short.

“Who are you?” I yell out. Rarity’s shaking beneath my hooves, tears streaming from her eyes.

I slap her. Hard.

I feel the first tendrils of magic reach around me and know that Twilight is going to try and stop me. Not today, Twi’.

I hook my legs under Rarity’s and push forward, forcing the both of us through the cloud and into the air below.

We’re high up. Way, way too high for a pony to survive the fall.

“Who are you?” I repeat.

Rarity’s screaming now. It’s annoying, and making my head hurt even more.

So I drop her.

It’s not a big deal. I catch her right before she hits the ground.

Her eyes are wrenched shut and she’s making some sort of high-pitched whining sound, but she’s not screaming anymore at least.

We’re maybe fifty feet up. I idly consider whether a fall from this point would be lethal or only break a few bones. Sigh. Probably worth playing it safe.

I float down the rest of the way and drop her roughly on the ground.

“Okay. Now we’re going to try this again. You’re going to tell me who you are and who you’re working for. What is it? Discord? Chrysalis?”

She whimpers and I strut forward to stand over her.

"Don't make this any harder that it has to be."

She's pitiful. I look down and see not much more than a shivering heap. There's no patent Rarity dramatics on display. No overwrought declarations of horror. She's just a broken pony, terrified and pathetic.

I know it's a lie. It's some more attempt to get me to stop. To give up.

It still hits me hard.

I close my eyes and force the feeling away.

I have to be tough. I have to be ruthless, if I want to save my real friends.

I'm not crying because I can't over a cheap sham like this.

I have to be stronger. Harder.

I’m going to make her pay for this. I’m going to make them all pay for this. No matter who they look like, no matter who I have to hurt.

Suddenly I notice the whimpers have stopped.

I look down to see myself again. Same mane. Same coat. Same everything.

She’s smiling. Next Chapter: 4.1 Estimated time remaining: 14 Minutes