Twilight couldn’t keep up. Her wing was screaming in pain and her legs were beginning to shake from the exertion. “S-Sunset… I can’t…” She slowed and at last collapsed, sucking down deep gasps of air. Her brief terror was now replaced by exhaustion and agony, and she could only wonder if she would ever be able to stand again.

“I think we’re… we’re far enough…” Sunset stood over her, sweating and panting. “I can’t… believe you got out… of the tornado.”

The exhausted Twilight took one last recovering breath before eyeing her left wing. She could see the twist just below the carpal joint. What was it? The radius? The ulna? Both? She didn’t bother trying to lift her wing from where it lay on the stone floor; it was clear there was no point in testing it.

Her chin dropped to the floor as she pouted. “Looks like I won’t be flying again anytime soon.”

Sunset tilted her head to examine the broken wing a little more closely. “It does look pretty bad. Don’t you know any healing spells?”

“Even if I did, it wouldn’t matter.” Twilight took a moment to rub the moisture from her cheeks. “We’d have to set the bones first. I haven’t had my wings long enough to really understand the anatomy.”

“Well it can’t be that hard…”

“No!” Twilight jerked away when she noted Sunset reaching for her wing. The motion caused a sting that made her wince. “If we set it incorrectly I could be crippled forever.”

Sunset sat and gave the wounded pony a lecturing frown. “If we don’t do something now it’ll try to heal as is, and then you really will be crippled. We need to set the bone, Sparkle.”

A strange horror filled Twilight. She was going to have to, wasn’t she? Could she trust Sunset to do it?

Did she have a choice?

She sucked in a deep breath, set her chin back to the floor and covered her eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”

She trembled in the dark, praying that Sunset would make it quick. And correct. Correct was more important than quick. She shivered and clamped her teeth together in anticipation, fighting to ignore the sick feeling in her gut. Please let it not be that bad. Please let it not—

She let out a pitched scream as pain erupted along her wing, her entire body rising as she braced her hooves against the floor.

“Stay down!”

Sunset stood on Twilight’s back, forcing her onto her belly. The pain struck again, and Twilight bit her hoof in a desperate attempt to handle the agony. Tears streamed down her cheeks as the fire in her wing intensified, muffled whimpers churning up Twilight’s throat.

Then something moved.

The pain suddenly wasn’t so intense, but it lingered like a ghost under her feathers. Twilight covered her face again and sobbed, trembling like a leaf as Sunset moved away from her.

“I think that’s it.” Sunset bent low beside Twilight and rubbed her back. “Shh, it’s over.”

Twilight took a few seconds to recover her wits, breathing in sharp gasps. After a few seconds she looked back at her wing, which appeared surprisingly normal. She wiped tears from her cheeks and rested her head back down with a shudder. “Sweet M-Mother of Celestia, I never want to d-do that again.”

Sunset stood and moved down the tunnel a short ways, head moving about as she studied the area. “We’re between the Lords’ territories. I think it’s safe to rest here.”

“Sunset.”

She turned back with head low and eyes apologetic.

Twilight managed a feeble, trembling smile. “Th-thanks for coming back for me.”

Sunset’s eyes shifted and a touch of red came to her cheeks. “Well, you saved me when you knocked me out of the way. I could have been in the Winds of Passion. So… I guess this makes us even.”

Twilight sighed and closed her eyes, an intense weariness coming over her. “If that’s how you want to look at it, I suppose.” She wasn’t about to mention how Sunset had regained some more of her color…

There was no way to tell how long Twilight had slept. She was very confused when she woke up; the horrors had felt more like a dream than anything else. But her lapse of memory was short lived, and she found herself trembling at the thought of where she was. Once again she was forced to wonder how her precious teacher could have done this to her.

But Twilight shook the doldrums off as quickly as she could; lingering wasn’t going to get her out of here. She needed to keep going, to maintain hope. She would go home. Her and Sunset together.

Thinking on her guide made Twilight realized that Sunset was nowhere to be seen. A moment of tense alarm filled her; what if she’d been abandoned? But no, Sunset needed her to escape, she said as much herself. Maybe they weren’t yet friends, but Sunset wouldn’t just leave her. She probably went to scout ahead; Twilight just needed to take a look around, that was all.

In attempting to stand she was reminded of her terrible ordeal in the Winds of Passion; Twilight’s entire body was sore. She winced as she attempted to fold her wings, glancing back at the one that had been broken. Moving it even a little hurt, but she couldn't just hold it out all the time, so she bit her lip and endured the searing pain that came with folding it. The deed done, she let out a few long gasps and wiped the tears from her eyes. They should have put it in a splint or something… but then, it wasn’t like the materials for doing so were readily available.

She went in search of her guide, legs protesting every step. The tunnels here were plain and shadowed, and though her vision had grown accustomed to the dark she decided to utilize her magic to generate some light. She didn’t know why, but suddenly the caves felt… claustrophobic. Head low and hooves shuffling, she hoped she would find Sunset soon; the dry quiet of this place was unnerving, and Twilight really didn’t want to be alone.

Sunset’s appearance was like the arrival of a spirit, her form slipping into the light as if she were made of the shadows themselves. It gave Twilight a fright, and she was relieved to realize that the form standing before her was not one of the mental cases of this hellish prison.

But there was something wrong; Sunset was as still as the grave. She was facing into the darkness, head low and her breathing almost imperceptible. Twilight moved to the front of the pony to find Sunset’s heavy-lidded eyes glazed over in a mindless, miserable stare. She waved a hoof before Sunset’s face, a deep unease filling her.

“Sunset?”

No response.

Twilight pressed her hooves against Sunset’s shoulders and gently shook her. “Sunset, what’s wrong?”

Sunset shifted. Her eyelids blinked with lethargic slowness before her eyes drifted to Twilight’s face. Her lips worked soundlessly before she shifted once more, her shoulders rolling as if to work sore muscles. At last she spoke, her words coming with the speed of cold molasses. “Twilight?”

“Yes, Sunset, it’s me. It’s Twilight.” An intense wave of relief washed over Twilight as she brushed her companion’s mane aside with a weak smile.

“You’re still here…” Sunset sat back and pressed her hooves to her forehead, swaying as if drunk. “I thought… thought maybe I’d finally lost it. That maybe Tartarus had finally got to me.”

“Not yet.” Twilight embraced the pony, filled with hope in light of Sunset’s near relapse. “I’m here, Sunset, and I’m not going anywhere without you. We’re partners, remember?”

“Partners…” The lost quality in Sunset’s voice finally faded, her tone returning to a semblance of normalcy. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Twilight chuckled and pulled away with a beaming smile. “Whatever you say. Did you sleep well?”

“Sleep?” Sunset bowed her head, her expression a mask of hard thought. “Sleep. I… don’t remember what that’s like.”

Twilight’s smile dropped. “Really? No sleep?”

Sunset nodded, eyes still set on her hooves. “Sometimes I… ‘phase out’. But it’s not the same thing as sleep. I think it’s a Tartarus thing.”

Twilight considered this for a few seconds before gesturing to herself. “But… I slept.”

“Well you haven’t been here very long.” Sunset stood and walked past Twilight, head hung low with a despondent frown as she moved deeper into the tunnels. “Come on, we better get going.”

Twilight followed, ears low as she studied her companion. Why was she so depressed all over again? “Is something wrong?”

For several seconds Sunset said nothing, her hooves dragging along the stone floor. When she finally spoke there was a distinct dread in her voice. “I just… I feel like we’re both going to die.”

Twilight’s stomach churned as she ran to catch up. She walked alongside Sunset, studying her miserable expression with genuine worry. “Why are you always so negative? We got past Sombra, didn’t we?”

Sunset turned her face away. “We were lucky. Luck doesn’t last very long down here.”

Twilight patted her on the shoulder, though she wasn’t sure what good it would do. “I think we did well, all things considered. You have to be positive, it’s the only—”

“Just stop it.” The despondent pony sidestepped out of Twilight’s reach. “You’ll learn soon enough.”

Twilight paused, watching as her guide moved on without her. She tensed as a flame began to burn in her mind, but she kept her temper in check. After a few seconds she moved forward, catching up to and blocking Sunset’s path. She leveled the pony with a firm, commanding glare.

Sunset kept her head low, looking up at Twilight with lost, uncertain eyes. After a few seconds she tried to move around, but Twilight stood in her way once more. Sunset didn’t bother with a second attempt; she just turned her head aside and waited.

That only fueled Twilight’s anger. “Do you want to get out of here?”

Sunset glanced at her from the corner of her eye. “Of course I do.”

“You’re sure not acting like it.” The princess poked Sunset in the chest, making her wince. “How do you expect to leave Tartarus if you won’t try? What happened to that hope you showed me earlier?”

“I had hope?” Sunset shot her a confused glance, but then sighed and turned her head away once more. “That was an illusion. There’s no hope.”

Twilight snarled and pushed the pony back. She stomped closer, and Sunset shrank at her glare. “Stop retreating. You’re Sunset Shimmer, former protégé of Celestia, and I know you have more backbone than that. Stop acting like a scared foal and start fighting for what you want!”

“What good would it do?” Sunset’s voice still lacked force, but at least she was looking Twilight in the eye again. “We’ll never get past the remaining Lords.”

“How do you know?” Twilight pressed her muzzle against Sunset’s. “We’ve barely even begun, and already you’ve given up! Why don’t you just go back to Limbo if that’s how you feel?”

“Because I can’t!” At last Sunset displayed some energy, pushing back against Twilight and matching her glare. “We offended Sombra. If I go back he’ll kill me, or worse. But if I go forward…” She lost her energy, her head bowing and pupils shrinking as if what had passed through her mind was truly terrifying.

“Point of no return, huh?” Twilight considered this for a few seconds, her anger having been reduced to a mere simmer now that she’d finally managed to get a proper reaction from her guide. “The Sunset Shimmer I knew was always willing to do things for herself. Sometimes she took it too far, but it’s not necessarily a bad quality.”

Sunset sat with a sigh. “That’s what happens when you get stuck down here for so long: you lose track of who you are.”

Twilight studied her and wondered about that statement. Perhaps there was more truth in that than excuse. Had Sunset really fallen so low?

“There’s one way for you to regain a bit of the old you back.” She stepped beside Sunset, wrapped a hoof about her shoulder and pointed to the darkness ahead. “You can press on.”

Sunset observed the hoof as if it not sure what it was before casting her forlorn eyes on Twilight. “What good will it do?”

“You want out.” Twilight lifted Sunset into a standing position, smiling her encouragement. “Make that your singular goal. It’s mine. Work with me, strive to escape.”

“But that won’t—”

Twilight set a hoof to Sunset’s lips. “You already said you can’t go back. Your best chance now – your only chance – is to ascend. It’s up to you, Sunset; try to go back and die for certain, or come with me and at least have the hope of an escape.”

Sunset stared, chewing her lip in uncertainty. Her eyes went to the darkness beyond as she ruminated on Twilight’s words. “But… but the chances are so slim…”

Twilight stepped back and gestured with her head to the tunnels. “Better a slim chance than none.”

Sunset stepped back, body low as she shifted from hoof to hoof and thought. Twilight could almost see the doubts churning through her mind, the questions and fears. But at last, with a despondent sigh, her guide began to walk once more.

“We won’t make it.”

“Yes, we will.” Twilight walked beside her, keeping her head high and a smile on her face. She had to maintain a sense of confidence, it was the only way.

She just hoped her guide wouldn’t relapse into despair every time a break was needed.

They traveled on, Sunset glumly leading Twilight through the maze of tunnels. They passed through a number of strange places: a cavern full of floating mushrooms; hallways that were made from a particularly stinky cheese; a set of tunnels where the darkness possessed a strange and surprisingly physical thickness; and a passage where they had to traverse giant test tubes and beakers implanted in the solid rock. However Twilight was less fascinated by these finding than she’d been on the way to Sombra’s lair, at least partially due to Sunset’s consistent brooding.

There seemed to be no way to cheer her guide, and Twilight ultimately gave up from sheer frustration. Thus they walked much of the journey in silence, although Twilight did pause on multiple occasions to ask about the curiosities they kept coming across.

It was not until the acrid smells hit them that Sunset’s manner changed. She paused, muzzle sniffing the air at the same time as Twilight, and her eyes became saucers. “Oh Goddess, we’re here…”

“The next Lord’s territory?” Twilight rubbed her muzzle with an unpleasant frown. “That’s a pretty obvious tell.” She observed Sunset to find her shivering in place. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

Sunset’s terror-filled gaze met Twilight’s. She made no attempt to answer, and it took several seconds for her to finally begin walking again, head low and lips trembling.

“W-whatever you do, don’t look it in the eyes.”

Twilight walked alongside her, keeping close for the sake of comfort. In truth she was a little affected by Sunset’s visible terror; it was a stark contrast to her manner with Sombra. What was it about this Lord that scared her so? “Whose lair is this?”

Sunset swallowed, eyes darting about the tunnels. “I’m n-not worried about the Lord. It’s h-his… his thing that scares m-me…”

“Thing?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “What th—” Her ears perked as they caught a new sound in the distance, echoing against the tunnel walls.

Screams.

Twilight shivered, her confidence shaken by the sound. She noted Sunset’s pause and set a leg over her shoulder. “It’s okay. We can do this.”

“N-no we can’t.” Sunset had tears in her eyes and her entire body trembled. “It will never l-let us pass.” But she was able to force her shaking hooves to move, even if only at a slow trudge.

Twilight made no attempt to rush her. “You’re doing good, Sunset. That’s right, one hoof after another…”

They pressed on, the burning scent and terrible screams the only sound. The noise had been an echo before, but as they began to approach the source it became clear that the volume hadn’t been exaggerated; Twilight wanted to cover her ears to block it out!

At last they came upon something different; a tunnel that was sealed off by a transparent crystal. Twilight paused to peer through and was alarmed to see three ponies on the other side. But they weren’t encased in the stone like the ones in Sombra’s territory; these ponies were free to move about as they pleased, and at the moment they seemed less than pleased to be behind the wall.

Hooves bashed the crystal, mouths were opened wide. The wall muted them, and the screams that met Twilight’s ears weren’t coming from these ponies, but there was no doubt that they were screaming. The panic was clear in their eyes, eyes that begged Twilight for help. All save a fourth one, who lingered almost unnoticed behind the others and stared at the floor as if all hope had left her.

“Don’t.” Sunset tugged on Twilight’s tail. “Please, don’t help them. It will know if you do. Don’t lure it here!”

“What ‘it’?” Twilight let herself be dragged away, though her heart cried out for the tormented ponies. “Sunset, what is going on?”

The terrified pony hurried her along, past more crystal barriers blocking more victims. “He made it, but this land belongs more to it than it does to him.”

“Him who?” Twilight heaved a frustrated sigh. She did her best to ignore the creatures trapped in the walls. “You’re not giving me much informa—” They rounded a corner, and Twilight’s words caught in her throat.

Before them was a deep pit, at the bottom of which was a pond of boiling pitch. The screams assaulted her eardrums, the burning smell filled her nostrils. Ponies, griffons, all sorts of creatures were down there, fighting amongst one another in desperate attempts to get out of the sticky, burning blackness. Their heads were all encased in stone helmets, with only holes for the mouths and eyes. Some were clawing at the walls. Pegasi and griffons struggled in vain to fly against the weight of their helmets. Some lay motionless, and she thought them dead until she noted the slight motions that indicated breathing.

And all the time there was that incessant screaming.

Sunset bolted, and Twilight was so terrified that she could only follow. They circled wide around that terrible pit and fled down an outgoing tunnel. They passed more pits and crystal walls, the screams and desperate faces filling Twilight’s vision. But then they began to pass ponies who weren’t trapped, ponies who lingered about like mindless statues, heads hung low and eyes blank with listlessness.

Then she noted the crystal walls that weren’t filled with begging ponies or griffons. No, they were filled with something red, splattered about the walls and floor.

Gore.

Twilight was filled with renewed terror, but her already sore legs were failing her. “S-Sunset… St… Stop…”

She was ignored. Her hooves burned, her heart pounded in her chest, her lungs begged for relief! “S-Sunset… I have to…”

She collapsed, rolling on the floor and grinding her teeth as she landed on her broken wing. By the time she looked up Sunset was already disappearing down the next corner. Twilight lifted a hoof and tried to call out, but her throat was too dry to manage anything more than a feeble cry.

And just like that, Twilight was alone. Tears in her eyes, she struggled to her hooves and tried to move, but her legs screamed their protest and she could manage little more than a feeble limp. After a few feet she dropped to the floor on her belly and covered her ears against the terrible screams that seemed to come from all sides. Under her pain and terror was the lingering understanding that Sunset probably wasn’t going to come back for her.

She probably didn’t even realize she’d left Twilight behind.

She lay there for several long minutes, gasping for air and trying to blot out the screams. She wanted to close her eyes, but every time she did she kept seeing pony parts and organs splattered behind one of those crystal walls.

What could have done that, and why?

She knew she had to move, to get out before whatever was responsible for all this found her. With this in mind she forced herself to her hooves yet again and began to walk, cringing with every step. At least her legs didn’t hurt so much after her brief rest. Maybe if she just kept walking and tried not to exert herself. That was easier said than done, though, for a lingering terror continued to threaten her mind, and more than once she was tempted to flee.

Her eyes locked on a pony standing near the center of the tunnel. She knew it was dangerous, but Twilight was desperate to know what she was up against. “E-excuse me…?”

No answer.

She moved closer, praying she wouldn’t regret it. “I n-need help. Information. S-something?”

She moved to the front of the pony. His eyes were glazed and his entire body was slack. His lips were moving. Twilight had to lean close and perk her ear to hear anything over the screams.

“Do nothing. Do nothing, it’ll leave you alone. Do nothing…”

The same thing, over and over and over again.

Twilight took a few anxious steps back. Fear was threatening to claw away at her calm. Combined with the screams and the bloody image behind the nearby crystal wall, this pony’s creepy, mindless mumblings had her shaking in her hooves. She had no choice but to move on and pray she could find Sunset before becoming hopelessly lost. At least all the side paths were blocked by the crystal walls…

Twilight fought her fear by trying to think things through. If she just considered her situation rationally, surely she would figure things out. Ponies trapped in tar pits. Okay, that at least reflected the ponies trapped in spiked pits from Sombra’s realm, perhaps there was a correlation.

She winced as a particularly pitched scream caught her ears. “B-better to talk. That’s right, Twilight, talk. Distract yourself with the sound of your own voice.”

She came upon another pit, unable to keep from looking down at the horrible sight. She fumbled for words as she paced about the pit’s edge. “P-pitch. They’re all in pitch. What does that mean? Or the helmets. W-why are they wearing helmets? Surely they wouldn’t willingly p-put those things on.”

The pit was left behind and she passed more creatures lolling about in mindless stupors. “The helmets are limited to the pits. O-okay, so… so maybe it’s like in old Eq-questria? A punishment to fit the crime?”

Twilight was passing by another one of the crystal walls. A minotaur charged out of the shadows and slammed his shoulder against the barrier, making Twilight jump with a whimper. She watched with bated breath as he pounded his fists against the barrier in desperation.

“C-crystal walls. Creatures trapped behind crystal w-walls.”

She moved on quickly, head low and heart pounding as the screams continued to assault her ears. “S-surely that means something. I mean, S-Sombra trapped them in crystal, t-too. Th-there must be some sort of logic behind this.”

She turned a corner and paused, gazing at something new. It was a pony… but it wasn’t like any pony she’d ever seen. His entire body was pale and shifted, as if he were made of fog.

“H-hello?” Twilight circled the fog-pony, curiosity mixing with her anxiety. “Are you… are you okay?”

He had the same blank stare as the others. No, not quite the same; a close look at his eyes revealed… nothing. There was no light there, no intelligence. Just a blank, glassy stare. But he was breathing, a strange whistling sound coming from his throat with every slow, barely-discernible rasp.

Twilight stood before him, chewing her lip and wondering about this new discovery. She couldn’t help it; she raised a trembling leg to touch his shoulder… and her hoof passed right through him.

A small gasp escaped her lips as an unearthly chill raked up her leg like a frigid claw. She jerked her hoof back and watched in wide-eyed alarm as the fog that made up his body swam after it like the wake of a boat. She stepped back, half afraid the cloud would give chase, but it only lingered quietly. It stretched out like a spike from the pony’s shoulder, and he offered no reaction whatsoever.

“F-fog ponies…” She walked backwards, giggling nervously. “O-okay… now we have fog ponies. I mean, it is fog, it has to be. It’s n-not like this place is full of… of ghosts…”

Twilight cringed at her own words, the idea not at all welcome in her borderline panicked mind. She forced herself to turn away from the ghost pon– fog pony and continue down the tunnel. “It’s okay, Twilight. Everything’s g-gonna be okay. Tartarus is a real place, and ghosts certainly aren’t real. So d-don’t worry. You can get through this, just keep thinking logically and…”

She came to a slow stop amongst a small group of statuesque ponies and griffons, some of whom were fog like that other pony. She bowed her head and heaved a miserable sigh. “I need to stop talking to myself. That’s more like something Pinkie would do.”

She gazed up at the ceiling, tears welling in her eyes. “Pinkie Pie… Oh, what I wouldn’t give to see you right now. I could really use your optimism…”

She noted another crystal wall nearby, two ponies and a nilgiri clawing at it from the other side. The sight made her cringe and close her eyes. She tried to see Pinkie’s happy face, fought to imagine her contagious laughter. She needed something bright and happy, something to remind her of what was ahead. Seeing Pinkie was a good thing to look forward to, nonsense and all.

She focused. She tried her best, covering her ears to dull the screams. She could almost… if she just expanded her imagination a little. Just like Pinkie. Bubbles. Streamers. Cupcakes. Chocolate milk. Party hats. Gummy. Silly mustaches.

Balloons.

Ah, there she was. All smiles and bouncing around. And laughter. Beautiful, beautiful laughter. It was the most wonderful sound in the world.

Twilight felt herself relax. She even managed a smile, for nopony brought about happiness like Pinkie. Twilight held on to that warm, happy feeling in her heart. This was what she needed. If she could just keep her mind on her friends, then there could be hope. She would get home and she would never, ever miss another one of Pinkie’s parties. She would cherish them, each and every one.

But Twilight couldn’t linger on this daydream. She would never see another one of Pinkie’s parties if she couldn’t escape, and this was no way to do it. So, determined to keep the hope strong in her heart, she sucked in a deep breath and opened her eyes…

Just in time to see the nilgiri behind the wall splatter in a mess of blood and limbs and gore.

Twilight let out a horrified scream and fell to her haunches. She could only stare, her breathing coming in short, sharp gasps at the sight of pony parts and still-throbbing organs sliding down the crystal wall. One of the ponies was already an icky mess on the floor, leaving just one pony left. She clawed at the wall, coat matted in the blood of her companions and fresh tears pouring down her cheeks. Twilight could only watch in cold terror as the pony locked frantic eyes with her and begged mutely for some kind of salvation.

Then something stabbed through the pony’s chest. Her legs spread wide as if held tight by invisible bonds. She opened her mouth in what Twilight imagined had to have been a terrible shriek.

A few seconds later the pony’s forelegs were ripped from her shoulders.

A small blast of yellow energy ripped a hole in the pony’s chest, freeing whatever had been run through her. She fell against the crystal and began to slide to the floor, blood and tears mixing on the wall as the removed legs began beating on her back and head in a violent fury.

Twilight couldn’t turn away. She held her hooves to her lips, entire body trembling as her stomach churned and tears dripped from her cheeks. She wanted to run, to dive into a dark corner and hide. But she couldn’t. She was transfixed to the display of violence before her.

At last the poor, wretched pony stilled. The legs kept striking for several seconds after… but finally came to a pause. The yellow, bubbly glow that kept them aloft faded and they fell atop their former owner like discarded junk.

Then a figure stepped out of the dark. Twilight only saw its legs at first… but then she looked up and got a better view as it walked right up to the crystal wall. Her jaw dropped in a motion as slow as her own dawning realization: she knew the murderer. It was a pony, dressed from top to bottom in a familiar purple suit. The well-known cloak… the wide-brimmed hat…

“M… Mare-Do-Well?”

Mare-Do-Well tilted her head at Twilight, as if to examine a curious specimen. Only then did Twilight notice the yellow, smoke-like essence rising from where the eyeholes of the mask should have been. That smoky substance, and the way it bubbled up as it rose…

It was like the magic in Sombra’s eyes.

A flash of yellow brought the masked pony out from behind the crystalline wall and standing just a few feet away. Twilight let out a shout and backpedaled, tripping on her own hooves and falling on her rump. She pressed her back against the wall, mind consumed with a terror she’d never known as she watched the monstrous pony.

Mare-Do-Well observed her with very slow motions of the head. Twilight frantically fought for some sort of proper reaction, and after a few seconds she finally had her head working well enough to summon up a thin shield. She waited, breath coming in gasps and mind alert for any sign of an attack.

A lingering moment of calm passed as the two stared at one another.

...and then Mare-Do-Well turned away.

Unwilling to let her guard down, Twilight remained pressed against the wall and kept her shield going as Mare-Do-Well walked calmly among the creatures that stood about like mannequins. She passed right through the fog-like ones, causing them to break apart into wisps of white smoke. She studied those that were still solid, examining each as if in search of something specific.

Twilight’s throat finally worked. “W-who are you?”

Mare-Do-Well cast a distracted glance her way as it kept up the search. Shortly after she came to a pause next to a female griffon. That masked head tilted one way, then another. Then it loomed close to the griffon’s face and, like a puppet, the griffon’s head slowly rose up to gaze at Mare-Do-Well. Her dull eyes offered no reaction as her beak opened wide and a low, long, raspy moan filled the air.

Twilight thought it a trick of the shadows at first. As she watched, a strange churning of the air came between the faces of the griffon and the murderer. She stared in rapt amazement as the lines that made up the griffon’s face blurred and churned as if being sucked into that emotionless mask. It lasted all of ten seconds, the griffon’s entire body shaking and blurring as something visible but indefinable passed between her and Mare-Do-Well.

And then there was a visible snap, like a rubber band stretched too taught, and the odd blurring transfer came to a sudden stop. Mare-Do-Well stepped back, the yellow smoke of her eyes taking on a slightly brighter sheen for a second or two as the griffon’s colors paled and her body began to take on that strange, fog-like quality of the others.

Twilight didn’t understand what she’d just seen. No logical concept existed for her to explain what Mare-Do-Well had just done. She only knew that it was unnatural and she was scared.

Mare-Do-Well’s head turned to observe her once more. It was a brief look, but it left Twilight shaking with the uncomfortable sensation that she was being scrutinized.

Then the pony turned about and, in a flash of yellow, disappeared.

Twilight remained sitting against the wall for a few seconds, eyes darting about the tunnel for any sign of the masked pony. It took some time, but she at last managed to pull herself away and drop her shield. Heart heavy and an intense unpleasantness in her stomach, she approached the griffon. The creature’s eyes were blank and lifeless, displaying no response at all to what had just happened. Twilight raised a hoof to brush the griffon’s beak and once against felt that harsh chill as the foggy substance blurred and spread out at her touch.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Twilight jerked about and moved through the tunnel at a trot. Buck logic; the only thing her terrified mind needed to know was that she had to get out of here as fast as possible.

The screams had finally faded away, but it was a small consolation. Twilight trudged ever onwards, surrounded by a thick mist. She adamantly refused to think about where the fog was coming from, about what it might mean for there to be so much of it. She kept her eyes locked on the stone floor, fearing that if she looked up she might see a faint face in the endless whiteness.

There was no way to know how long she’d been walking. The tunnel kept twisting and turning, and on several occasions Twilight was forced to choose a direction as the paths diverged. She had only one clue to go by, and that was slope; as long as she was going up, she should be on the right track.

She hoped.

That monstrous version of Mare-Do-Well appeared several times. Sometimes she would be slaughtering more ponies. Other times she was doing that strange magic to the mindless creatures that Twilight sometimes walked past. But sometimes she would appear for seemingly no other reason than to peer at Twilight.

Twilight stopped trying to flee. For all the wanton violence, Mare-Do-Well didn’t seem eager to hurt her. Twilight used to wonder why, but now all she wanted was to get away.

It was a while before she noticed the light beaming through the fog. For a tender moment Twilight’s hopes rose, but that was no sun; it was too dim, too pale, and it shifted. It was more like a torch, albeit one with a white flame.

Perhaps it was magic?

It could have been anypony, Twilight didn’t care; just the thought of seeing something normal was welcome. She trotted forward, eager to see the source of the light. As she continued the fog began to thin and fade, until at last she had a good view of what was ahead. The tunnel shrank swiftly, narrowing down to what almost appeared to be a doorway.

And there, cowering on the floor next to that opening, was a familiar mare.

“Sunset!” Twilight trotted towards her, the unicorn looking up at her with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Sunset slowly stood, mouth agape. “Y-you made it. I thought you were dead or… or…”

Twilight stopped right in front of her and shot her a vicious glare. “You left me. You actually left me there!”

Sunset shrank back. “I thought you were right behind me. W-where did you go?”

Heaving a bitter sigh, Twilight jerked her head away. Part of her was furious… but the other part understood. She’d been pretty terrified herself, after all. She tried to take pleasure in the knowledge that she wasn’t alone anymore, but it wasn’t easy. “It doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s check this—”

Sunset pulled her back, wincing at Twilight’s ominous glare. “B-be careful! This is… this is the place.”

“The place?” Twilight’s anger faded as she peered into the doorway, noting the pale white orb on a plinth deep inside. “You mean the second Lord’s lair?” Sunset nodded with a shiver. “But I thought you said you weren’t scared of him.”

“I’m n-not.” Sunset’s eyes scoured the area as if she expected to be pounced upon at any second. “It’s his pet that scares me.”

Pet? Twilight recalled the gore and violence and couldn't resist a shiver of her own. “You mean Mare-Do-Well.”

“Mare?” Her terrified companion shook her head. “Ne’er.”

Twilight blinked and had to think for a few seconds. “Ne’er-Do-Well?”

Sunset took a tentative step to the door and peered through. “A-all we have to do is get to the other side of the lab. It’s n-not that far.”

Twilight stood in the doorway, rubbing her chin with a skeptical frown. “Just like that? Won’t the Lord try to stop us?”

“He won’t even notice us.” Sunset circled in place, eyes darting about. “C-come on, we have to go before it gets back.” She moved at a trot through the doorway.

Hesitation filled Twilight – how could they just walk right on through? But Sunset was her only guide, and why have her around if she wasn’t going to listen to her? So she followed, matching her companion’s speed and watching for threats.

Instead she discovered something she’d never expected: a laboratory. Twilight was so stunned she had to stop after a few feet to take in her surroundings; loaded bookcases, microscopes, a centrifuge, beakers and bottles and blackboards! For just a moment she forgot where she was, a broad smile breaking across her face and her heartrate going just a tiny bit faster. “Th-this is amazing! How did all this stuff get down here?”

“What are you doing?” Sunset rushed over to pull on Twilight’s shoulders. “We have to go!”

“But I…” Twilight let herself be dragged through the veritable scientist’s playground. “I can’t just go without…” Her words failed her as she spotted movement near a large table that was covered in equipment. A pony was there, igniting a Bunsen burner as he peered at a thick notebook.

If a pony could die from being starstruck, Twilight would have keeled over then and there. She gazed upon his light grey coat, going white from age. His golden eyes, set with intense focus on his work. His frayed cape and star-studded hat, that unforgettable beard…

“Is… Is that…?”

Sunset cast a frustrated glance his way. “What? It’s Starswirl. Now come on.”

But Twilight’s attention was fully diverted, a gasp escaping her throat at the confirmation of the name.

“Oh. My. Goddess!”

She practically flew out of Sunset’s grasp, standing with forehooves on the table as she stared like a grinning foal upon her historical hero. “It is! You’re Starswirl the Bearded!”

“Mm-hmm.” He paid her no mind as he peered into a microscope.

“I am such a huge fan, you have no idea.” Twilight trotted about the table with a silly giggle. “I have read all your books, I studied every spell. I even completed your unfinished masterpiece!” She paused next to him and peered, hooves dancing in her excitement. “I can’t believe it, it’s really you. Yes yes yes yes yes! This is like a dream come true!”

“Mm-hmm.” He scribbled in his notebook.

Twilight was about to speak once more when she felt herself jerked back by the tail. She turned to find Sunset’s muzzle pressed against hers. “What. Are you. Doing?”

“Can you believe it?” Twilight hardly noted Sunset’s anger. “Do you even know who this is? It’s Starswirl the Bearded, father of the amniomorphic spell, only one of the greatest conjurers in Equestrian history!” She turned to stare, hooves to her cheeks in childish awe.

“Yes. Conjurer. Exactly.” Sunset tugged on Twilight’s mane, which hurt enough to at least earn her a bit of Twilight’s attention. “And what do you think he conjured while down here?”

“Who knows?” Twilight whacked Sunset’s hooves from her mane in annoyance before turning back to the mage. “He’s Starswirl, I’m sure he can conjure whatever he wants.”

Her heart came to a stop as Starswirl’s head came up with abrupt swiftness. He stared out across the table for a few seconds, then turned his eyes upon Twilight. An ecstatic gasp escaped her lips as he looked her up and down curiously.

“Hmm…” His quill began to scribble notes as he rubbed his substantial beard. “An alicorn. Interesting…”

It took several seconds for her to think a proper response. “Y-yes. I-I am Princess T-Twilight Sparkle, and it is such a pleasure – no, an honor to meet you!” She gave a quick bow, praying her wobbling legs wouldn’t fail her. “I consider myself a student of yours. Why, I wouldn’t even be a princess if it weren’t for you!”

Sunset wrapped a hoof about her shoulder and pulled her away. “W-well, we’ll just be going now! It was nice to see you, b-but—”

Twilight knocked her back with a glower. “Sunset! Don’t be rude. This is the most important pony of his generation.” She turned back to find Starswirl already engrossed in his work. “H-hey, maybe you could tell me a little something? Y-you know, I would love to be able to say I—”

Sunset was in her way. A hoof cracked across her jaw. “Would you wake up? Think, Twilight. Where the buck are we?”

Twilight rubbed her chin with a grimace. “What is wrong with you? We’re in Tartarus.” She shoved Sunset aside. “Now would you leave me alone before I—” She paused, eyes going wide. She turned her head in a slow motion and stared at Starswirl, who hardly seemed to notice her presence anymore.

“W-why is Starswirl in Tartarus?”

“Because Celestia threw him in here for being useless.” Sunset gestured for the exit. “Now come on, please, before Ne’er-Do-Well gets back!”

“Useless? Starswirl?” Twilight sat, rubbing her head as she tried to make sense of this. “How could Starswirl be useless? And that’s no reason to throw a pony into Tartarus.”

“Look at him!” Sunset pointed as he was pouring something into a series of test tubes. “All he ever cared about was his experiments. He didn’t raise a hoof to help Celestia. Or stop her.”

Stop her?

“Typical ignorance.”

The mares shared surprised looks before gazing upon the old mage. His emotionless manner had cracked to form a solemn frown as he continued his work. “I couldn’t stop Celestia. I wasn’t ready to. More studies were needed. More spells.”

Sunset growled. “That’s all you ever said. You could have stood up to her at any time!”

“Against an alicorn?” He set the test tubes aside and focused on firing a thick blue beam upon a large vial. “No. More experimentation. One must guarantee success. The timing was not right.”

Sunset walked about Twilight and began to push her away. “And now what does he do? More experiments.”

“One does not simply walk out of Tartarus.” Starswirl took the vial, which was covered in frost, and began to pour its contents into the test tubes. “One must prepare. Confidence, that’s what I’m seeking. Confidence that I am ready.”

Twilight locked her hooves against Sunset’s pushing, eager to come to her hero’s defense. “Sounds reasonable to me. You don’t go up against Tartarus unprepared.”

“And what do you think we’ve been doing?” Sunset let out a frustrated sigh and didn’t stop pushing. “He’s been down here for close to a thousand years! If he’s not ready by now, when will he be?”

As much as she hated to do so, Twilight was forced to concede the point. “But I still can’t accept that Starswirl the Bearded is a bad pony.”

The aged mage gave a derogatory sniff. “Morality has nothing to do with it.”

She blinked, not sure she’d heard that correctly. “What?”

“Taking forever to prepare is as good as doing nothing.” Sunset sat back, panting from exertion. “He never acts. He never takes anything upon himself. He even made Ne’er-Do-Well to do his dirty work for him!”

Twilight thought she was confident that she knew everything she needed to know about Starswirl… but suddenly her image of him cracked. “Y-you mean he made that… that abomination?”

“He’s a conjurer.” Sunset threw her hooves in the air. “Of course he made it!”

Twilight’s heart sank. She trotted to the mage and gave him a hopeful look, praying that Sunset’s information was wrong. “But… But why would you make such a monster? Do you even know what it’s doing out there?”

Starswirl let out a groan as he scribbled more notes in his book. “You bleeding hearts, always putting ethics in the way of progress. Soul energy is the best magic source in Tartarus—”

Twilight fell back in horror. “Soul what?”

“—and I’m not going to let it go to waste being used by the other Lords.” He set some of the test tubes over the Bunsen burner. “If you really need some sort of moral standard, try to take solace in the thought that this is Tartarus and they were probably corrupt anyway.”

Just as quickly as her excitement had come, Twilight’s perfect image of him shattered like glass. She backed away, shaking her head and praying she’d heard that wrong. “Y-you don’t mean that. I believed in you, I thought you were amazing…”

“So sorry to burst your small-minded, idealistic bubble.” He went back to scribbling in his notebook.

Twilight slumped. To think one of her great inspirations, the very pony whose work had helped her become a princess, was… was this. What was she supposed to do? What was she supposed to think? And after all Celestia had taught her about him.

No… not him. This wasn’t the same Starswirl she’d learned about as a filly, who’d filled her with happy dreams of magical discovery. He was something entirely different, a pitiable figure with no future.

Something nudged her. She glanced over to see Sunset watching her with an apologetic frown. “C’mon, Twilight. Let’s get out of here.”

She turned to leave, and Twilight made to follow. She paused, casting one final, forlorn look at the pony who once inspired her. He was working as hard as ever on his chosen experiments, not paying them any mind.

He deserved to be trapped down here.

Sunset let out a terrified shout. Twilight turned and felt her blood run cold; Ne’er-Do-Well was standing in the center of the room. It tilted its head at her – a gradual, focused motion that for some reason filled Twilight with dread.

“Ah, there you are, you insipid beast.”

Insipid? Twilight didn’t think that was at all accurate…

Starswirl’s voice took on a threatening tone. “Well, what are you waiting for? Make your delivery.”

Ne’er-Do-Well looked towards him with that ever-expressionless mask, then turned and walked to a large cauldron in a corner of the lab. It paused and lowered its face… and then that familiar foggy substance began to swarm from it to the cauldron.

Sunset, lips trembling and eyes locked on the creature, leaned close to Twilight. “C-can we go now?”

“Yeah.” But as they headed for the other side of the laboratory she couldn’t take her eyes off Ne’er-Do-Well. “What is it doing?”

“Depositing souls.” Twilight shot her companion an alarmed look, but Sunset didn't notice. “Starswirl’s too busy to do it himself. At least, that’s what he’d tell you.”

So that’s what Ne'er-Do-Well was doing to all those creatures. But what did all their suffering have to do with it? “Is the torture part of the experiments?”

Sunset cast a harsh glance her way. “You’re asking about that now?” She winced as a particularly bright flash of light came from Starswirl’s direction. “N-no. He made it out of the life energies of other ponies, and it keeps a little bit of every creature’s soul every time it makes a… ‘delivery.'”

Twilight paused, ears lowering as she came to understand Sunset’s meaning. She cast a long look at Ne’er-Do-Well, amazement and loathing filling her at the same time. “You mean it’s made up of the souls of the prisoners of Tartarus?”

“Thousands of them.” Sunset tugged lightly on Twilight’s hoof, prompting her to keep walking. “Maybe hundreds of thousands. Thieves, villains, liars, murderers, torturers, rapists. All in one unimaginably sadistic form.”

Twilight turned away as Ne’er-Do-Well, its task completed, began to make its way towards its master. She could just feel it staring at the back of her head, the sensation making her shudder. “Thank Celestia it’s under Starswirl’s control.”

They were almost to the exit. Sunset cast a long, unhappy look Twilight’s way. “I’m… I’m not sure it is.”

They locked eyes, Sunset’s anxious and Twilight’s wide. The alicorn opened her mouth to respond—

“Wait.”

They both jumped and jerked about. Starswirl was still at his table, harsh golden eyes locked on Twilight. Ne’er-Do-Well was standing opposite him, but didn’t appear to be paying the mares any mind. Starswirl stroked his beard a few times, and Twilight couldn’t help shifting under his scrutiny.

The old mage spoke in the tone of a professor lecturing a student. “I have studied many souls. In those studies I have come to determine that different creatures’ souls have different qualities. It is a fascinating subject, oh yes…

“In all my years down here, I have never had the opportunity to study an alicorn soul.”

Twilight’s blood ran cold.

He went back to his experiments, adding an offhoof, “Ne’er? Fetch me an alicorn soul, would you kindly?”

Ne’er-Do-Well spun to face the mares with a jerk, the yellow aura of its eyes flashing.

“Oh bu… run!”

Twilight didn’t need Sunset’s encouragement; she was already making a break for the exit. She could just imagine herself being ripped apart by that monster!

They were out of the laboratory and into the tunnels when a flash of yellow, bubbly smoke erupted ahead of them. They made no attempt to stop, and when Ne’er-Do-Well emerged from the vapors they bowled right over it and kept going. It didn’t shout. It didn’t even grunt in pain. It just fell on its side, as quiet as a mouse.

Which might actually have been scarier.

Twilight let out a shout as something forced her to a jerking stop. She looked back to see her tail caught in that yellow aura. Ne’er-Do-Well stood slowly, retrieving its hat from the floor to cover its long, glowing horn.

Then it turned to Twilight just in time to take a violet beam to the chest that sent it sprawling.

Freed, Twilight turned about and fled. She saw Sunset pausing up ahead. “What are you doing? Go!”

Yellow balls, their centers filled with electric sparks, flew over their shoulders and bounced against the walls. They danced about, struggling to make as much ground as they could on the creature. “W-we just have to get to the end of Starswirl’s territory,” Twilight noted, casting a hopeful look at her partner. “It won’t follow us. Like Sombra, right?”

Sunset redoubled her efforts, moving ahead of Twilight as she shouted back, “Don’t be so sure about that!”

They slid to an abrupt stop, just managing to avoid falling into one of those pits of boiling pitch. There were ponies down there… but none of them were moving. The mares turned to start fleeing along the side of the pit, but Twilight let out a shout as Ne’er-Do-Well appeared from the darkness and, catching her up with its magic, literally tossed Twilight over the edge!

Alarm and horror filled Twilight. She tried to fly and let out a scream at the searing pain in her broken wing. She opened her eyes just in time to see a skeletal face leering up at her from the bubbling black pit. The sight made her suck in a sharp breath as she instinctually cast a spell.

A flash of light later she hit the hard ground on the ledge of the pit. She climbed up on shaky hooves just as Sunset galloped past. “Don’t stop now!”

Twilight needed only a second to recover and give chase, her heart fluttering with all the speed of a hummingbird. She glanced back and let out a small gasp as Ne’er-Do-Well opened up a pair of massive wings and took off over the pit after them. “It has w-wings? I didn’t s-see any wings! How did it get those?”

Sunset called over her shoulder, “I’m not stopping to ask!”

They entered a cave filled with fog. Twilight had a moment to feel disgust at the thought of what must make it up, but it was all she allotted herself. They began to pass misty creatures like she had on the way in, and despite her nausea she found the willpower to ask, “Can we hide amongst these guys?”

Sunset slid to a stop as a flash of yellow smoke appeared ahead. “Time to find out.” She dove back, catching Twilight and forcing her to the floor.

Their world was engulfed in milky white. They lay on their bellies, trembling with ears perked to listen. There was nothing. Pure, harsh, terrifying silence. The chill of the fog left Twilight with memories of the terrible tales she’d read about lands of violence and evil…

But this wasn’t one of her books, and this time the evil was real. The thought filled her with an intense dread. She used to think that corruption and darkness were remote, uncommon things, but here she was in a place where it was constant. And Ne’er-Do-Well… how many tortured souls made up its existence? How much brutality had been squeezed into its head?

If collecting souls could be a magical source, and Ne’er-Do-Well was made from countless souls over centuries of constant collecting…

How powerful might it be?

How cruel?

The hoofsteps made her wince. She saw Sunset cover her lips with her hooves, perhaps to keep from screaming. Twilight’s ears twitched as the hoofsteps continued, moving gradually closer. Did it know where they were? Was it just searching? She fought to control her breathing, sucking in long breaths at a careful pace to minimize the sound of it.

The hoofsteps paused. Twilight’s hackles rose as a suppressive chill ran down her spine. Where was it? What was it doing?

Did it know?

The silence lingered, every passing second filling her with more dread. Her stomach churned with nervous horror. She wouldn’t panic. She was not going to panic…

The hoofsteps began again, moving away. Twilight barely stopped herself from heaving a relieved sigh. She shared fretful looks with Sunset, then nodded forward. Her terrified companion, hooves still over her lips, only shook her head. Twilight wanted to argue her point, but the ongoing hoofsteps reminded her that she didn’t dare speak.

So she took the lead, crawling as slowly and quietly as she could beneath the protective cover of the mist. Ne’er-Do-Well didn’t strike her as the type to give up; they had to get out, it was their only chance. She moved forward, raising herself just slightly so that she could move without her belly rubbing the floor and making noise. Each trembling step was as slow and cautious as she could manage. She treated the floor like glass; one false motion and everything would go disastrously wrong. She cast an anxious look over her shoulder to see Sunset barely visible in the fog, unmoved.

There could be no waiting or encouragement, but Twilight knew they had to move; if they remained still they would surely be found. So, hoping Sunset would figure things out and follow, she pressed on.

Her ears remained perked, listening to the sound of Ne’er-Do-Well’s slow hoofsteps. It was to her right, so Twilight moved a little leftward. She swallowed to moisten her dry mouth, ever maintaining that slow and cautious breathing. She could make it. All she had to do was get beyond the fog, deep enough down the tunnel that Ne’er-Do-Well wouldn’t notice when she broke into a run. She would get out, she would escape Tartarus, she would see her friends again…

The sound of flapping wings made her heart leap into her throat. She dropped to her belly and remained perfectly still, praying that the creature wouldn’t be able to see her from above. She struggled to make out where the flapping was coming from. Was Ne’er-Do-Well circling? Did it see anything? Twilight closed her eyes tight and listened as best she could. Please let the fog be thick enough…

The flapping stopped. No sound of hoofsteps, either. Twilight didn’t dare to hope that it had left to search elsewhere; that was too easy. It had to be somewhere nearby, watching. Waiting.

Like a vulture.

There was no other option; Twilight lifted herself just slightly and resumed her stealthy crawl. Maybe she could get out without being noticed. Maybe Sunset was right behind her.

Seconds passed. Perhaps minutes. Twilight kept going, each step a test of her fortitude, every slow breath an exercise in caution. The silence was becoming as horrible as the screams had once been, and Twilight quietly begged for some sound. A ruffle of feathers, a hoofstep, even the softness of breathing! Her legs ached from the effort of maintaining that slow pace, the gripping anxiety making sweat bead up on her forehead. She didn’t even know how far she’d traveled… or how far she had left to go.

She paused, eyes going wide at the sight of something purple just ahead. She sank to her belly and held her breath, watching through the shifting mist. It took a few precious seconds to confirm, but it was most certainly Ne’er-Do-Well. It was facing just to Twilight’s right and watching with an unmoving gaze for any activity.

It was perfectly still. Unnaturally so. Twilight watched, ears perking just slightly… nothing. Not a sound. Not even breathing.

Breathing.

Twilight released air, having forgotten she’d been holding it in.

The creature’s ears perked.

Twilight covered her lips, terror gripping her, but Ne’er-Do-Well made no further motion. Slowly, carefully, she regained control of her breathing. Her legs were trembling, and Twilight willed them to stop for fear that even that tiny disturbance might catch the monster’s attention.

She waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

At last she could take it no more; she forced herself back into that crouch and began to move sideways. She would go around, it was the only—

Her hoof touched the wall of the cave, scraping just slightly against it.

In an instant Ne’er-Do-Well had turned on her, eyes flashing so bright as to temporarily blind Twilight. She let out a horrified shout as her body rose from the floor of its own accord, her back slamming against the wall and legs stretching wide. Her breath caught in her throat as her vision cleared to find that eyeless mask so close to her face that they were practically touching muzzles, the bubbly aura of those non-eyes seeming to gaze into her very soul.

Twilight cast a spell; a violet blast of energy erupted between the two of them and made the fog spread out in a wide circle.

Ne’er-Do-Well didn’t even flinch.

“Sunset!”

A blast of wind-like noise hit Twilight in the same instant that her vision became grey and colorless. She felt as if she were caught in a storm of sounds and light, and though she couldn’t move there was the disturbing sensation her face was stretching forward. Her vision locked on the yellow aura of the demon’s eyes, a rising feeling in her chest and a terror covering her mind. A sickness was overtaking her, making her stomach churn and her eyes water. It was like she was deflating, and she could feel the breath being dragged from her lungs.

She struggled to speak, to cry out, to fight back. Nothing worked; her legs were as stiff as tree trunks, she couldn’t suck in the air she needed to voice anything, her horn could conjure no magic. She couldn’t even close her eyes.

Was it a moment or a second? She saw everything; playing with her brother, seeing Celestia raise the sun, hatching Spike, traveling to Ponyville, meeting her friends, becoming a princess. Was this what ponies meant when they referred to life flashing before their eyes? No… this wasn’t how she was supposed to die. Not to some pony-made monster in the worst place of an Equestria that wasn’t even her own! She opened her mouth to object, but all she could manage was a feeble rasp. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she felt that unnatural stretching, like she was being pulled into that yellow smoke…

And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. A bright, opal-colored light struck Ne’er-Do-Well in the side and erupted in a massive sphere that slammed the creature against the wall. It fell to its knees in the fog, shook its head and disappeared in a flash of yellow.

Twilight promptly fell to her knees and vomited. When done she sat back and clutched her stomach, cringing at the acute pain within. It wasn’t just her stomach; she felt as if all her ribs might have been broken!

“Are you okay?” Sunset was at her side, catching Twilight before she could fall.

“No, I am n-not okay.” She meant for it to be a shout, but all Twilight could manage was a whisper. “I almost h-had my soul sucked out b-by an abomination. This is not okay!” She jerked away and threw up a second time.

Sunset hovered over her, shifting and chewing her lip. “I d-don’t think it was trying to take your soul. That wasn’t its usual spell. I don’t know what it was trying to do.”

“I d-don’t care.” Twilight spat the foul-tasting gunk in her mouth and rubbed her lips. “I j-just want to get out of h-here.” She tried to walk and nearly fell in her own mess from the pain in her stomach.

Sunset caught her in both hooves and helped her move. “Y-yeah, you’re right. Let’s go before it decides to come back.”

They took a few steps before Twilight had to stop to hack and cough for a few seconds. The act left her trembling and clutching her stomach once more. “S-sweet Celestia, I hope it d-didn’t do anything permanent…”

Sunset waited until she was ready to move again to help her along. She studied Twilight with a surprising amount of concern. “I… I don’t think it will be. Most of Ne’er-Do-Well’s victims heal up after a while. Even the dead ones. It didn’t take your soul, so…”

Twilight eyed her companion, understanding slowly dawning upon her. “You… you saved my life.”

Sunset fidgeted, her eyes darting about the fog. “It doesn’t matter if we’re friends or not; nopony deserves to be caught by that thing.”

Twilight tried to smile and instead winced at the churning in her stomach. “Th… There might be hope for you yet.”

They pressed on, the dense fog clutching at them as if desperate for attention.

Author's Notes:

Who thought Lust was next? I knew it was a few of you. There's a reason the tornado was in the last chapter, though. Trust me.

When I first thought of Ne'er-Do-Well, she had a diminished role in this part of the story. Gradually her threat level grew in my mind until she became... well, what you see here. It took me even longer to figure out how Ne'er and Starswirl would interact together.

Of course, the question remains: what exactly did Ne'er try to do?

...

I'll let all of you think on that.

Things are getting gradually worse. How much more can our heroines take?

Five Lords left.