Dinky Doo opened her eyes to find that she was alone. The filly squinted blearily across a woodland thicket. She sat up with a jolt, looking at the mess of branches and shrubbery all around her. When she spoke, the thick air sucked the breath from her lungs, so that only the tiniest of squeaks came out.

    “Girls?”

    The forest hung dead and dense around her. Up above, a dull gray sky loomed.

    “Crusaders?”

    There wasn't even the slightest echo.

    She stood up on wobbly hooves, adjusting her metal helmet and towel cape. When she trotted forward, the twigs beneath her didn't snap or rustle.

    “Is anypony there?”

    She shuffled in a pensive little circle, fenced in by bushes and brambles.

    “The dogs? Where did they take you?”

    As hard as she gazed into the forest, she couldn't see beyond the third or fourth line of trees. Shadows closed in, and the air became nippy.

    Shivering, Dinky hugged herself. She ran a nervous hoof through the blond bangs poking out of the front of the colander; each mane hair was icy to the touch. For some reason, she felt compelled to look at her own hoof. The pony examined her fetlock up close, but found it hard to concentrate. The gray of her own coat blended with the dull light pouring down from above, so that it looked like she was merging with the haze beyond the forest.

    Just then, Dinky sensed shadows shifting behind her.

    With a nervous gasp, she spun to look. Pallid branches and withered leaves waved back and forth in a straight line through the thicket. Thirty seconds of intense heartbeat later, Dinky felt a bitter wind blowing through the woods, shaking the leaves and branches even harder.

    “Crusaders?” Dinky murmured. Timid, she trotted forward, following the waving branches. “Sweetie Belle?” She gulped. “Apple Bloom? Scootaloo? Are you there?”

    Nopony replied. The woods unfolded soundlessly, even as its branches and twigs shook with greater and greater disturbance. Soon, the entire forest swayed and danced all around her, stirred on by a ghostly wind that urged Dinky forward like a kite.

    The filly was trembling terribly by the time she emerged from a thick line of bushes. A warm halo of light illuminated a green patch of grass directly in front of her. Only by staring into the glow did she realize how incredibly thick the shadows had been everywhere else. As her eyes adjusted, two gray shapes materialized in the spotlight. She saw a tiny dull gravestone, and just to the right of it was a pegasus mare, hunched over with a saddlebag and weeping.

    Dinky's lips quivered. “Mommy...?”

    The mare did not move. Instead, an infant unicorn filly poked her head out of the saddlebag, looking Dinky's way with bright yellow eyes.

    Dinky froze in place. She didn't breathe, she didn't shout. She kept her muzzle clenched tight as a dull expression paled over her face.

    “Dinky...?”

    The infant stared back, innocent and icy still, weathering each sobbing heave from the mare beneath her.

    “Dinky Doo...?

    Dinky finally exhaled. Her eyes glistened with tears as the infant blended with the fog of the melting forest.

    A pale pair of forelimbs wrapped around Dinky from behind.

    “...!” Dinky gasped and...

    ...opened her eyes, blinking delicately into dull orange torchlight.

    Sweetie Belle's warm face smiled down at her. “Finally... you're awake.”

    Dinky exhaled. She looked past Sweetie, her eyes still locked on a ghostly pair of gray shapes. “Mommy...”

    “No. I'm no 'Mommy,'” Sweetie Belle whispered with a tiny giggle. “I'd have to marry the colt of my dreams first.” She cleared her throat, breathing calmly. “But, still, I'm soooo glad that you're awake.”

    Dinky rubbed her aching head and slowly sat up with help from Sweetie Belle. Her vision rippled black and unfolded once more, revealing a dark, dank cave with craggy stone walls. Her colander rested in a heap, along with the rest of the crusaders' helmets. She sat on an ice cold granite floor covered in dancing amber shadows. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were squatting a few feet away, fumbling to mend a banged-up scooter and a battered red wagon. Just behind the two ponies, a mountain of random junk and miscellaneous garbage occupied the bulk of the room, and just a few more feet away there stretched a gate of iron-wrought bars.

    It was obvious to Dinky that the crusaders had been caged inside the dead-end of an underground chamber. Dinky peered through the bars to see a workbench, a butcher's block, and a pile of filthy rags lying just before an ascending set of granite steps. A quartet of dim torches stretched along a grime-stained wall on the other side, and the air was thick with the stench of decay and excrement.

    “So...” Dinky bit her lip. “It really happened?”

    “Yup,” Scootaloo droned. “We've been dogpiled.”

    “How... how long...?”

    “Maybe two hours ago? Three?” Apple Bloom shrugged, tilting the wagon up while Scootaloo struggled to fit a loose wheel back on. “Ain't no sunlight down here for us to tell.”

    “Heck, there's probably no sunlight period.” Scootaloo grumbled, glaring into her futile task. “The sun's likely setting on Manehattan as we speak.”

    “Manehattan!” Dinky gasped. “The Cakes' twins! Oh no!” She slapped her forehead. “They're helpless without us—Ow!” She seethed, clutching her bruised skull. “Ow ow ow ow...”

    “Shhhh—Don't hit yourself!” Sweetie Belle patted her shoulder. “You took a nasty bump to the head when they tossed you into the bag.”

    “Into the b-bag...” Dinky winced, staring into the heap of dusty furniture and moldy sheets piling up against the cave wall behind them. “So I didn't just dream all of that.”

    “'Fraid not, Dinky,” Apple Bloom said. “We really did fall for the oldest trick in the book.”

    “Mmmm...” Dinky squatted down in a depressed slump, her “cape” folding around her like a funeral shroud. “I'm sorry.”

    Sweetie Belle leaned her head to the side. “For what?”

    “It's all my fault.” Dinky sniffled. “You girls asked me to go get help, but I couldn't even outrun the creeps.” Her eyes watered as she kneaded the cold stone floor with her hooves. “Now look at us. Hmmmph... some crusader I am.”

    “Come on, Dinkster. Don't be like that..” Scootaloo said, giving the wheel in her grasp a little spin. “Really, there was nothing you could have done.” Torchlight flickered across her eyes, and in an angry glint she frowned at the pony seated across the wagon from her. “After all, it's not like you made us chase after a stupid barking dog in the first place!”

    “Hey!” Apple Bloom shrugged, dropping the wagon. “How did any of us know it was gonna be an ambush?! Real ponies could have been in trouble!”

    “Yeah, and those real ponies were us!” Scootaloo gnashed her teeth. “You happy now?”

    “No, Scootaloo, I ain't.” Apple Bloom stood up and walked across the cell with an indignant twirl of her cape. “And I reckon you ain't happy, neither.”

    Scootaloo took a deep breath. Eventually her ears drooped as she said. “Look, Apple Bloom, I'm sorry for getting all riled up. I know you and Sweetie Belle only wanted to do the right thing, and I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just... just...” She rolled her eyes, groaned, and gestured at the overturned vehicle. “Look at what they did to the wagon!”

    “Yeah, well...” Sweetie Belle stood up beside Dinky, smiling sheepishly. “At least your scooter's in one piece.”

    “Yeah, well, no offense…” Apple Bloom started shifting lazily through the mound of garbage against the wall of the room. “But I think that's the least of our problems at the moment.”

    “Well, if we break free from this place, we won't be getting all that far on our hooves!” Scootaloo said hoarsely. “Now will we?”

    “Break out of here?!” Apple Bloom tossed several empty bottles aside and gawked over her shoulder at the pegasus. “Scootaloo, we dun even know how deep into the earth we are! Applejack dealt with these kinds of mud-mutts before, and she told me that the tunnels they dig stretch for miles and miles!”

    “Hey, my sister was also in one of these places!” Sweetie exclaimed. “Even longer than Applejack was!”

    “Oh yeah?” Apple Bloom returned to the junk pile. “What'd she do to get out?”

    “She whined and cried a lot.”

    “Yeah... that hasn’t been working so well for us.”

    “Trust me! It’ll work!” Sweetie Belle squinted. “I've studied Rarity! I'm an apt pupil in Cryenomics!”

    “Well, sure. Maybe you are. Me? I suppose. Dinky? She's young enough.” Apple Bloom pointed across the way. “But Scoots here? She never cries—”

    “Hcckttt...” Scootaloo's eyes welled up with tears as she cradled another crooked wheel in her hoof. “My wagonnnn...”

    Apple Bloom winced. “Then again.” She squinted into the pile of scrap before her, then brightened “Hey!” She picked up a grimy screwdriver and waved it around. “Look what I found, Scoots!”

    “Huh?” Scootaloo looked up, and instantly she beamed, wings fluttering. “No way! That's perfect!”

    “Then put it to good use!” Apple Bloom tossed it across the cell. “A fixed wagon is better than no wagon at all!”

    “You bet it is!” Scootaloo caught the instrument and began tweaking the wagon. “Huh... I wonder what other useful things there could be in that pile?”

    “What's all this junk lying around here for anyways?” Dinky asked.

    “Reckon Diamond Dogs are all about hoardin',” Apple Bloom said, continuing to hoof her way through the mess. “Though, usually they collect gems and rubies n'such.”

    “You mean like dragons?”

    “Yeah...” Sweetie Belle fidgeted. “Only a lot hairier... and smellier.”

    Dinky's ears twitched. “Uhm... are we alone down here?”

    “The evil doggies dropped us in here hours ago,” Sweetie Belle said. “We haven't seen them since.”

    Dinky looked her way. “Then whose footsteps am I hearing?”

    Sweetie Belle merely blinked. In the distance, scraping claws and pitter-pattering paws echoed closer and closer. She gasped, flailing her forelimbs. “Girls! Quick! They're coming back!”

    “Shoot!” Scootaloo hissed. She swiftly tucked the screwdriver and wheels underneath her overturned wagon.

    Apple Bloom hopped away from the junk pile and helped Scootaloo shove the wagon towards the corner of the cell.

    Dinky looked all around. “Huh? What's going—?”

    “Dinky, come on!” Scootaloo dragged her over as the four collected in the middle of the room. One by one, they dropped to the floor in limp heaps, along with their wrinkled capes. “Curl up and get all 'sad and hungry!' Like this!” And she plopped down, curling her hooves up.

    “Uhhhh... why?” Dinky's face scrunched up.

    Sweetie tilted her head long enough to squeak, “Cryenomics, remember?” And she slumped back down. “If we play helpless, they'll bother us less!”

    “Bother us less?” Dinky swiveled at the sound of thudding footsteps.

    A tall, pale canine strolled into the room, claws clicking across the lifeless stone floor. A slobbering bulldog crawled after him, panting through a razor-toothed maw as his ravenous gaze met Dinky's timid face.

    Dinky's eyes instantly rolled back as she draped a hoof over her teetering horn. “Ohhhhh Celestiaaaa!” Thud! She curled up into a fetal position, her moans and whimpers joining the collective wails of the quartet. “I want my Mommmmmmy!”

    “Hey the fourth one made it!” The small one barked. “You owe me two bones and a hubcap!”

    “Hrmmmf...” The taller beast smirked, his yellow eyes turning yellower in the dim torchlight. He leered close to the bars. “I’ll dig ‘em up once we make it rich off these little prissy pups.” He kicked the bottom of the gate, causing the bars to ring in a loud reverberating tone. “Ya hear that, ya little fertilizers? You’re gonna make the Slashers richer than every Diamond Dog this side of Tartarus!”

    “Hey!” Apple Bloom tilted her head up, frowning. “Who’re ya callin’ ‘fertilizers?’"

    Scootaloo slapped her across her pink bow.

    “Ouch!”

    Clearing her throat, Scootaloo clutched her stomach and wailed. “Ohhhhh help usss! Will somepony help usss?!”

    “Soooo hungryyyyy...” Apple Bloom whimpered and sputtered. “...I dun wanna die down herrre...”

    “Grrfff...” The bulldog sniffed and growled. “Do we really have to keep them here, Jake? Seems like such a waste to have the brats writhing around on the floor when there’re plenty of tiny holes that they could be digging.” He tilted his slobbering chin up to grin at his companion. “How about I chain ‘em together and send them down to the purgatorial basilisk mines?”

    Dinky broke her act, involuntarily shivering.

    “Give it a rest, Tonks,” the tall one grumbled. “Besides, we gave up on the basilisk mines after what happened to Spot.”

    “Oh yeah.” The bulldog nodded, his cheeks flapping. “Poor Spot.” A blink. “Are you done using his skull for an ash tray? April’s here. I deserve my turn this month!”

    “Shut your trap.” The sound of rattling keys lit the stale air just outside the metal bars. “Let’s just get this over with.”

    “Why are we feeding them anyways? They did nothing to earn any meal!”

    “We need them relatively ‘healthy,’ ya drool bucket!” The gate opened with a rusty squeak. “To ransom off for jewels! The prancing pony towns above ground will pay out their butts for these little puke-stains! How else do you think we're gonna build up King Bart's empire from a paltry scrap heap?”

    “Pfft! All we are is just a gang!”

    “The Slashers are more than a gang!” With a loud clatter, a round dish full of gray mush landed in the middle of the jail cell, splattering slimy dollops across the four fillies. “Soon, we'll have enough rubies to run this Piedra-forsaken earth!”

    “Why does Bartholomew insist on bein' called 'King,' anyway?”

    The door groaned then slammed back shut. “Lemme put it this way.” Jake locked the cage with a loud click. “With teeth like his, are you gonna try yanking that crown off him?”

    Tonks whined slightly, bowing his head. “You have a good point...”

    “Mmmmmm...” Sweetie Belle sat up, rubbing her puffy eyes as she stared into the food bowl. “What do you want us to do with this? Eat it or throw up in it?”

    “The heck do I care? Do both!” Jake laughed, his dirty fangs flashing from beneath his curled lips. “Or rot in the corner like that stupid tricycle you were riding! So long as you're alive, we profit!”

    “Hey!” Scootaloo shot up like a rocket, her crying face replaced with a vicious frown. “It's a scooter not a tricycle!” She stomped up to the cage, sneering. “And it's not stupid!”

    Apple Bloom rolled her eyes while Sweetie Belle face hoofed. Dinky sat up, nervously watching the scene.

    “And another thing!” Scootaloo dragged a hoof across the floor, growling. “Your King Bartholomew or whoever can go choke on his crown! 'Cuz he messed with the wrong ponies!”

    “Heheheh...” Jake's eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”

    “Yeah! We're the Cutie Mark Crusaders! If you knew the kind of friends we had, you would think twice about—gaaaaah!” Scootaloo's eyes widened. Her hooves flailed as she was held upside down high off the ground by her tail. “Hey! No fair!”

    “Scootaloo!” Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom jumped up, galloping towards the dangling pegasus. “You put her down right now, ya big meanie!”

    “Oh, I’m sorry!” Jake smirked, his arm rising up and down so that Scootaloo bounced from his hairy grip like an orange yo-yo. “Were you in charge here? That’s funny, seeing as how you’re on the inside of the jail cell and not the outside!” His eyes briefly narrowed above a row of sharp teeth. “How about we switch things around a bit, hmm? Let’s see a pony beg before a dog.”

    “How ‘bout you go choke on a cat?” Scootaloo grumbled, flailing.

    “Psssst…” Tonks leaned in, his bulldog face blanching. “She knows how Fido died!”

    Jake kicked his yipping buddy in the side. “Awwww shuddup.” The hair on the back of his neck rose up. “This lame pony-sitting garbage is beneath me. What’d you call yourselves again? Cutie Mark Crusaders? Hmmmph… more like crap suckers. How about trading those puny wings of yours for a spine before you start trying to talk big, ya sissy!” And he opened his paw.

    Scootaloo fell hard to the ground below. “Owch!” She instantly regretted the high-pitched exclamation, and she rolled over, glaring away from the captors with an iron-wrought frown.

    “Hmmmph. Pathetic. The equine race is doomed.” Jake chuckled. “Good news for us.” He turned away from the gate, motioning to the bulldog. “Come on, Tonks.” Jake stomped back up the stairs. “We've got that west tunnel to finish digging.”

    “Say... why'd we go with 'the Slashers' anyways?” Tonks wagged his tail as he clambered after his cohort. “I kind of liked our original name!”

    “Hmmff. What? Dogs After Huge Rubies And Diamonds?”

    “Yeah! DAHRAD! It rolls right off the tongue!”

    “Tonks... you've got a filthy, filthy tongue.”

    “Says you!”

    As their clawsteps faded in the distance, Dinky looked over—shivering. “Is... is Scootaloo alright?”

    “Well, she’s in one piece.” Apple Bloom said, trotting over along with Sweetie Belle. “Which is a good thang, considerin’ what these dogs could really do to us if we tick ‘em off enough.”

    “Apple Bloom, please,” Sweetie Belle frowned at her friend, then turned towards the pegasus with a concerned expression. “Scootaloo?” Sweetie Belle leaned in, nuzzling the filly. “You okay? Did they hurt you or anything?”

    “Hrmmmmf...” Scootaloo shook, clenching her teeth harder. “I'm... f-fine...”

    “But that big goon dropped you so hard and—”

    “I said I'm fine!” Snarling Scootaloo shoved Sweetie Belle back. She stood up and paced in a furious circle, seething. “Will you just back off, already?”

    Apple Bloom frowned. “Look, Scoots, I know you nearly got yer head cracked open, but it don't mean ya gotta bite ours off!”

    “I know... I know!” Scootaoo growled. “I'm just sick of smelly dogs and smelly caves and... and... st-stupid...” She clenched her eyes shut, hissing inwardly. “Stupid!” She shook, shook some more, then bowed her head with a heavy exhale. Her wings drooped as her sad eyes traced the cracks in the granite floor. “Sorry, guys. Just every second we waste here, the longer the Cakes' foals are spending in the clutches of those dirty Haissanic punks.”

    “Er... r-right...” Apple Bloom nodded with a tiny smile. “We'll save them, Scoots. We will. Just... one thang at a time, okay?”

    “Right.” Scootaloo took several deep breaths, slicking her mane back as she stared off with hollow eyes. “One thing at a time.”

    “How 'bout we keep lookin' through this pile for more stuff we could fix the scooter with?”

    “Yeah.” Scootaloo gulped, wings fluttering slightly. “Or maybe something we could use to dig our way out of here.”

    “That's the spirit!” Apple Bloom smiled. She turned, briefly flashed Sweetie Belle a dull look, then trotted her way towards the pile of rubbish. “I'll see if I can find something on this end if you search closer to that side of the room.”

    “Already on it,” Scootaloo said. “There's gotta be something in here that we could make good use of. Those bars look weak enough for us to saw through, I bet.”

    “Yeah!” Apple Bloom said, fishing her hooves deep into the rattling mess. “These mutts are plum idiots to stash us inside with all this garbage! What are the odds we'll find a chisel or a hoof file in here?”

    “I dunno, but keep looking.”

    By this time, Dinky's breathing had started to calm down. She looked aside, squirming visibly.

    “Are you alright, Dinky?”

    “Hmmm?” Dinky's eyes fluttered open.

    Sweetie Belle smiled at her. “It's going to be okay.”

    “Sure! I know that.”

    “I mean it!” Sweetie Belle said. “You’re with the Cutie Mark Crusaders, the best little problem-solvers in all of Equestria! We’ll find a way out of here in a jiff! You’ll see!”

    “Yeah.” Dinky nodded, gulping. “I believe in you guys!”

    “Hehehe… believe in yourself!” Sweetie Belle winked. “You’re a Crusader too, y’know!”

    “Honorary Crusader…”

    Sweetie stuck her tongue out. “Same difference, silly.”

    Dinky smiled bashfully, toying with her cape.

    “Hey! Sweetie Belle!” Apple Bloom looked over her shoulder, yanking at something. “Could ya lend a hoof? I think I found something but it won't budge!”

    “Uh... sure thing! Be right there!” Sweetie Belle gave Dinky a look.

    Dinky nodded.

    Sweetie swiftly trotted over to Apple Bloom's side. “Where should I grab hold?”

    “Right here.”

    “Okay.”

    “Now give it a swift tug on the count of three. One... two... Three!”

    “Nnnngh!” Sweetie Belle slumped back, gripping the handle of a rusted hoof-saw. “Hey!” She beamed. “Lookit! Lookit!”

    “Right on, Sweetie Belle!” Scootaloo waved from her side of the pile. “You guys keep digging!” As soon as she was done talking, she exhaled heavily, and a morose expression hung off her orange muzzle. Scootaloo wasn't particularly invested in her work; her hooves dug through the junk with repetitive motions, and her eyes stared ahead with a dull glaze, as if she was gazing at something a thousand miles straight ahead through solid earth.

    Dinky noticed all of this with a keen eye. She heard herself murmuring as she walked over, "Are you okay?"

    "Hmmm?" Scootaloo slowly blinked, turning her head with the urgency of molasses. It took her a full two seconds to register her new company,  and she produced a thin smile. "Oh, sure thing, Dinkster!" A coy wink. "It'll take a lot more than a little roughhousing to crack my skull open."

    "Still doesn't make what happened just now any more right," Dinky said.

    "Look, it happened," Scootaloo grumbled. "So let's just forget about it, okay?!"

    Dinky winced, immediately avoiding Scootaloo's scathing frown. She clutched her cape once again with a regretful shudder.

    Soon, however, Scootaloo sighed and said, "Don't take it the wrong way, Dinky. You're super nice for checking up on me. I'd just rather work on finding us a way out of here."

    "Oh, I understand," Dinky said, gulping.

    "We need to get out of this mess," Scootaloo grumbled. "And it's all up to me."

    Dinky leaned her head to the side. "Why just you?"

    "Well, not just me.  Just… y’know… mostly me."

    "But..." Dinky blinked. "Don't the Crusaders work best as a team?"

    “Huh?  Oh, of course!” Scootaloo nevertheless fidgeted as she muttered, “But every team’s gotta have its ace in the hole.”

    Dinky shook her head.  “I’m afraid I don’t play poker.”

    “No, it’s not… nnngh.”  Scootaloo sighed, briefly running a hoof across her face before leaning over to speak quietly into the little unicorn’s ear. “When push comes to shove, Dinky, it’ll fall on one of us to do the tough stuff that the others can’t.”

    “Isn’t saving the foals on our lonesome tough enough?”

    “But I mean really tough stuff.”  Scootaloo leaned in further, weighed forward by a grin.  She added in a hushed tone: “Stuff that only the most awesome of us can do.”

    Dinky crouched. "Why are we whispering?"

    "'Cuz I don't want to offend the others." Scootaloo winked with a smile. "Foals can be such cry babies, y'know?"

    "What was that, Scootaloo?" Sweetie Belle asked from across the room.

    "Uhhh... k-keep digging!" Scootaloo's voice cracked, shoving her limbs deeper into the rubbish pile. "We're bound to find something at this rate!"

    "Oh! Okay!" And Sweetie resumed what she was doing, humming pleasantly.

    Dinky glanced at the other two, then back at Scootaloo again. "I didn't realize we needed somepony who was ‘most awesome.’”

    “Neither did I, until stuff got lame.”

    “Huh?”

    "Pffft. Take a look around us, Dinky," Scootaloo grumbled, her eyes reflecting the somber torchlight. "Would we even be in this mess if everypony had followed my advice and ignored the darn bulldog in the first place?"

    Dinky squirmed. She remembered the first moment out in the field when she saw the four-legged creature approaching the wagon. She saw the collar around its neck and had instant reservations. However, when she tried to speak up, none of the other Crusaders bothered to listen to her, Scootaloo included. She thought about mentioning that, but decided not to, realizing that there was very little it would do to help the situation.

    Thankfully, Scootaloo had decided to keep talking on her own. "I'm telling you, I could have gotten us to Manehattan by now. Heck... if it was just me on the scooter—and no wagon—then I'd probably have gotten there hours ago. I mean, I'm fast enough!"

    "What about the other girls?" Dinky asked. "And me?"

    "That's just it." Scootaloo winced, smiling nervously. "I couldn't just leave you guys behind. You're my friends, and we're all Crusaders. Besides, it'd be super lame if only I got my cutie mark for stopping the foal nappers."

    Dinky stifled a giggle, smiling with warm dimples. "Which you would also have done by now, right?"

    "Totally!" Scootaloo grinned, her wings buzzing as she shuffled through more junk and delapidated tools. "I can't help it if I was born this awesome." Her nostrils snorted as she briefly frowned. "Which makes it suck all the more that I don't have a cutie mark for it yet."

    "You'll get one, Scootaloo," Dinky said. "We'll all get one."

    "Not by standing around and chewing the fat, we won't!" Scootaloo squinted Dinky's way. "You wanna lend a hoof?"

    Dinky shrugged. "Only if it won't take away from your awesome escape plan."

    "Pfft! As if." Scootaloo pointed at a cluster of junk resting against the far wall behind them. "None of us have touched that section yet. Why don't you head over there and start scraping around for something else that we could use to bust the gate down?"

    “Okay!” Dinky smiled and saluted. "Captain, my Captain!"

    "Heh..." Scootaloo winked. "Now that's the spirit."

    Dinky dashed off for the far side of the room. She passed by Sweetie Belle, who turned to look from the pile where she was rummaging. "Are you going to help us scrounge some tools up?"

    "Uh huh!"

    “Just watch out for loose stuff!”

    “Don't worry!” Dinky chirped back, approaching a crooked stack of chairs and moldy newspapers. “I'll be careful!” She turned and stared up at a loose pile of metal and wooden knick-knacks. After a timid gulp, she nevertheless trotted forward and began pulling random trinkets out, one hoof-ful at a time. All of the sudden, the mountain of rubbish she was tugging from shifted dramatically. With a tiny yelp, the scared filly fell on her rump and crab-walked into a sheet-covered object that rattled behind her. Within seconds, the shifting stopped, and the tall garbage pile was still once again.

    “Everythang okay over there, Dinky?”

    “Y-yeah, Apple Bloom!” The unicorn filly stood up, brushing herself off. “It's just... really dirty down here.”

    “My coat isn't liking this any more than yours is!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed.” Don't worry! We'll find a way out of here soon!”

    “Hey! Take a gander!” Apple Bloom reached deep into her section the pile and pulled loose a rusted red lantern. “Talk about a find!”

    “If you say so,” Sweetie Belle droned, shaking her head. “The thing's busted.”

    “How do you figure?”

    “No lightning bugs inside. See? The glow's gone.”

    “This ain't like a pony lantern.” Apple Bloom turned the thing around, squinting at the wick inside the glass. “I'm willin' to bet this runs on kerosene.”

    “Then we just need something to light it!”

    “Right, see if you can find somethang to make a fire with.”

    As Sweetie Belle ran across the cell, Dinky turned to glance at the sheeted object that she had just bumped into. She moved to return to her junk pile, but something anchored her in place. Curious, she reached up and pulled the sheet off. With a flurry of dust, the fabric struck the floor, and suddenly Dinky was staring at herself. When she blinked, the image of her blinked as well. She reached a hoof forward until it came to a stop against a grimy cold surface. “A mirror...”

    “Hey! Hey!” Sweetie Belle galloped across the thin space, sliding to a dull stop beside Apple Bloom. “Look at what I found!” She jubilantly cradled a tiny wooden box.

    “Matches!” Apple Bloom grinned wide, swiping the container of sticks from Sweetie's grasp. “Hot dog!” She turned towards Sweetie Belle. “Where'd you find it?”

    Sweetie pointed across the cell. “Inside a drawer in a collapsed dresser.”

    “Well, this may be just the game changer we need.” Apple Bloom took one match out and struck it across the rough cave wall, to no effect. Licking her lips, she tried a few more times until a tiny flicker of flame was born. Then, with expert hooves, she lifted the glass off the lantern and ignited the wick. Adjusting the knob, she grinned in victory to see a steady flame burning. “Ha! Just as I thought! There's enough in there to burn!”

    “But we have enough torchlight in here already!” Sweetie exclaimed.

    “Right. But I'm thinkin' that maybe we could...” She turned, shrugging. “I dunno. Start a fire? Smoke our captors out?”

    “You mean with us on the fire's side of the bars?” Scootaloo grumbled from the side. She fished out a box of screws from the hoard and knelt before the wagon once again, using the screwdriver to fasten the last wheels back in place. “Pffft... please. They'd just abandon us in a Neigh York minute.”

    Sweetie Belle sighed. “She has a point.”

    "Of course I do!"

    “I reckon so.” In a slump, Apple Bloom reached forward and extinguished the lamp. “Still, hide the matches someplace in case we find a better use for 'em.”

    “Sure thing. In the meantime...?”

    “...keep looking.”

    Dinky watched as the reflections of the fillies went darting off to separate parts of the scrap pile. The speed and dexterity with which they worked on the simplest of things—like digging through junk—was a testament to how long they had spent every afternoon of the past two years crusading together. They were a perfect trio of fillies, thinking alike and functioning like clockwork. Dinky found herself bearing witness to a well-oiled Crusader contraption, and suddenly it made her feel like a fifth wheel—when she should have been the fourth.

    The little unicorn sighed... and then her right eye twitched. Something was twinkling in the torchlight, something bright and metallic. Blinking, she traced the edges of the mirror until her gaze narrowed on the reflection. She spotted something tiny and cylindrical hanging off a lopsided chair's leg.

    Turning completely around, Dinky craned her neck up until she spotted the actual object in question. Her lips parted. On waddling little hooves, she snuck towards the lofty chair, tilted her body up, and slapped her fetlock against the dangling object until she successfully knocked it off its restraint. The thing fell into her hooves, cold and light to the touch. Dinky couldn't believe her eyes, even as the yarn-thin silver chain pooled over the sides of her forelimbs.

    “It's... it's...”

    “Wow, Dinky!” Sweetie Belle stumbled over, wrestling with the lid of a plastic jar. “I thought you said you left your flute at home!”

    “I did!” Dinky smiled awkwardly, holding the instrument up. “This is a different one!”

    “A different one?”

    “Yeah! It's smaller and shinier!” Dinky dangled the thing from her horn and spun it around with a foalish smile. “And it's got this really cool chain!”

    “You mean you found it in here?” Apple Bloom called from the other side of the room. “In this heap?”

    “No kidding!” Scootaloo attached the last wheel, spun it proudly, and trotted over from the repaired wagon. “Heh! What are the odds?”

    “I'd say pretty huge!” Sweetie said. At last, she opened her jar with a pop, and a flood of paper snakes leapt against her muzzle. “EEEEP!” She jolted, her mane sticking straight up in random places. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo giggled. Blinking, Sweetie Belle tossed the jar away with a sigh and bestowed Dinky a tired smile. “I wonder if the thing works, at least.”

    “Yeah! Try it out!” Scootaloo leaned in, grinning. “For all we know, maybe it'll send the dogs running for the hills!”

    “Well... alright.” Dinky shrugged. Plopping back on her haunches, she placed the tips of her hooves over the appropriate holes in the instrument and prepared to play a simple little tune. “Here goes.” She pressed her lips to the end and gave it a firm blow.

    No sound was produced. Instead, a flood of moths poured out the end, spread their wings, and collided with the center of Scootaloo's face.

    “Gaaaugh!” The filly flailedflailedflailed and—Thud!—fell flat on her back, legs sticking up.

    “Oh!” Dinky instantly blushed, hugging the found instrument to her chest. “I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I had no idea!”

    “Guh... h-hate... moths...” Scootaloo wheezed, eyes twitching towards the ceiling.

    “Snkkkt... heeheehee...” Sweetie Belle yanked the pegasus back to her hooves. “It's okay, Scootaloo. You were such a polite audience.”

    “Hrmmmm...” Scootaloo rubbed her muzzle and frowned at the flute. “Keep that darn thing on its leash.” She turned and trotted across the way. “I'm gonna go help Apple Bloom... where there'll be less bugs flying into my face.”

    As she trotted off, Sweetie Belle looked at Dinky. She winked, giggling.

    Dinky bore a sheepish smile. Sweetie trotted away, leaving her alone by her side of the cave. She glanced down at her flute, then peered—squinting—down its open end. She gave the necklace a little shake, littering the floor with fragments of insect wings. Once she felt it was significantly emptied, she took a deep breath and gave it one final blow. It resisted a bit, but soon a knotted cloud of dust and hair flew out, and the instrument made melody for the first time in untold years. Dinky celebrated the moment by performing the first half of the Equestrian National Anthem at double-tempo. She smiled at herself.

    “Very pretty, Dinky!” Sweetie Belle said from a distance.

    “Yeah!” Apple Bloom's voice added in a sarcastic drawl. “Reckon you can summon giant eagles with it?”

    “Uhhh…” Dinky squirmed. “Should I?”

    “Hey! Apple Bloom! I think I see a hammer back there!”

    “Well, help me grab it, Scoots!”

    “Sure thing! You heave and I ho!”

    “Wouldn't have it any other way!”

    “Heaaaave!”

    “Nnnnngh... ghhh...”

    Meanwhile, Dinky had hung the flute around her neck. The instrument's little silver chain was just the perfect fit for her tiny foalish size. She stood up straight, reveling in how closely it dangled to her chest. Reaching a hoof up, she batted it like a cat... then tapped it a second time. Her eyes followed the flute as it rocked to a stop, and she giggled.

    But something hadn't stopped swinging. Once more, Dinky sensed a shifting of shadow and light in the peripheral of her vision. She looked aside and saw the flute settling to a stop in the mirror. The unicorn blinked hard, her eyes darting left and right. Just then, the reflection lifted a hoof up and batted the flute around her necklace a third time, which was somewhat dismaying, seeing as Dinky herself hadn't.

    The filly did a double-take. Pivoting to face the mirror directly, she trotted closer, eyes peering quizzically in every direction. She looked all over the glass, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. But then her eyes wandered up. A breath escaped her lips. The reflection had no horn; a perfectly smooth forehead loomed just inches from Dinky's own. She was staring so close that when the reflection in the mirror winked, the fright of it knocked Dinky flat on her rear.

    Dinky sprawled on the floor, shivering. She stared up at the mirror, but the figure before her was still standing like she had been just seconds ago. What's more, it smiled, a very warm and inviting expression. Dinky found that the longer she stared at it, the swifter her hyperventilating melted away into calm breaths. Nevertheless, as she persistently waved her forelimbs—and the reflection didn't—a nervous tick found its way into her mouth, clicking her tongue against her teeth. “G-g-girls?”

    “Nnnngh!”

    “We almost got it, Scootaloo! Just... grnngh... a little more!”

    “What's this darn hammer made out of?! Moonstone?”

    Dinky turned her head and stammered louder: “Girls?! Crusaders? Uhhhh... you m-might wanna come see this!”

    “Just a second, Dinky! Come on! You guys almost got this!”

    “It's caught on something! We just gotta... g-get it unstuck!”

    “I'm... tr-trying... guh...”

    Dinky bit her lip. In what was quickly becoming routine, she was being ignored. She was too numbly flabbergasted to register any ounce of frustration. Dinky looked at the mirror once again, and she jolted in place, for her periwinkle reflection was standing much closer to the glass now. The same warm smile was there, and the filly gestured at Dinky with a “come hither” hoof.

    For some reason, Dinky was no longer nervous. She stood up, feeling the cold tap of the dangling flute against her chest. Soon, she had trotted up so that she was within inches of the mirror's surface. From the way she was panting, she figured her breath might fog the glass, but that didn't happen. The pony on the other side smiled wider, her teeth showing in a mute giggle. Next, she held a hoof up, then picked up the flute from around its neck.

    Dinky blinked. Slowly, she mimicked the gesture, holding her own flute up as well.

    The reflection nodded. Then, bringing the instrument to its lips, it performed slow and deliberate hoof-movements across the perforated top of the flute. Its eyes remained locked on Dinky's the whole time, as if knowing how simple the message would be.

    And it was. Within the span of a minute, Dinky understood the movements in the mirror. She recognized the hoof-strokes as playing the soundless notes to a very popular Equestrian lullaby, just like her Mommy used to sing her to sleep with every night. Without delay, Dinky pressed her lips to the flute and performed the same movement across the top of it with her hooves, all the while blowing to make a delicate little melody. She even closed her eyes, concentrating on the timeless tune as it wafted through her young mind: “Hush now, quiet now, it's time to lay your sleepy head...”

    At that point, Dinky felt something, like the rush of air from a freshly-opened window in Fall. She opened her eyes to see that her hornless reflection was clapping its hooves in noiseless applause.

    Dinky smiled curiously.

    Immediately, the reflection performed a bow. Then, to Dinky's astonishment, it sprouted purplish-gray wings and flew up... gliding beyond the wooden frame of the mirror. As it did so, the gloss and torchlight faded from the glass behind its blond tail, giving way to deep blue darkness. Dinky's ears rang, as if the acoustics of the jail cell had suddenly changed. Curiouser, she trotted forward and pressed her hoof to the glass.

    Dinky caught a gasp in her throat as her hoof sank through, the shimmering surface replaced with pure air. Wordless, the filly crouched low, peering beyond the mirror to see what appeared to be a long, winding tunnel of dark, dank earth that ran far out of sight.

    Right at that moment—“Rghhhh—Got it!”—Apple Bloom and Scootaloo finally dragged the hammer out onto the stone floor with a heavy thud, scaring Dinky out of her skin. “Whew!” Apple Bloom brushed her hooves off and pivoted towards Dinky with a sweaty gaze. “Now, what is it you wanted us to see, Dinky?”

    “Uhhhh...” The unicorn fidgeted, her flute still swinging to a stop. She turned from the now nonexistent mirror. “Uhmm...”

    “Whoah!” Scootaloo's eyes burst wide. Wings flapping, she scuffled over to Dinky's side and gaped into the sudden and deep tunnel. “It's... it's a way out!” She spun to face Dinky, jaw agape. “Dinky, did you just find that all by yourself?”

    “Er...” Dinky gulped, sweating. “Maybe?”

    “Can you believe the dumb varmints who dug this place?!” Apple Bloom squeaked, hopping victoriously in place. “They forgot to bury all their holes!”

    “Woohoo!” Sweetie Belle galloped in and hugged Dinky. “Way to go, Honorary Cutie Mark Crusader!” She grinned wide. “I knew you'd help us all out!”

    “But it just appeared...” Dinky choked on her own words. “Wh-what I mean is, I didn't find—”

    “Awwww... don't be so modest, Dinky. You blush too easily with that coat.” Sweetie turned and smiled at the other two. “Hey Apple Bloom! Bring that lamp over!”

    “Already on it!” The earth filly nudged the thing over with her head, struck a match, and lit it.

    In an instant, Scootaloo had snatched the thing in her hoof and was holding it before the wooden-framed passageway. The light barely reached its way down the neck of the tight tunnel. She squinted nevertheless, violet eyes darting left and right. “Huh... almost looks like it's going through the junk behind it.”

    “Who cares?!” Sweetie Belle's voice cracked. “It's a way out! Anyplace has got to be better than here!”

    All four fillies gazed into the hole. In the ensuing silence, they heard a gentle whistle of cold air from the cylindrical tunnel, coming and going, like an icy breath from the darkness.

    “Where... uh...” Apple Bloom gulped. “Where do ya suppose it goes?”

    “You're the earth pony,” Scootaloo grunted. “You tell us.”

    Apple Bloom glared daggers at her. “My specialty is above the earth. If we were talkin' apple tunnels, then you'd be askin' the right mare.”

    “Say Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle asked. “Could your scooter fit through that?”

    “Yeah,” Scootaloo nodded, peering past the lantern, “and the wagon too, I bet.”

    “Maybe we should pack a few more of the things from this junk pile before we dive in?” Apple Bloom muttered, somewhat jittery.

    Scraping footsteps echoed from the stairwell beyond the bars.

    Dinky spun with a twirl of her new flute. “Uhhh... don't look now...”

    “Horseapples!” Scootaloo was already dashing towards the scooter. She hung the lantern from one handle while flipping the wagon over and fixing it to the scooter's back. “Apple Bloom! The hammer!”

    “R-right!” Apple Bloom rushed over to the heavy instrument, lifting the metal end with both hooves. “Nnnrghh... reckon we could use this somehow!”

    “Dinky!” Sweetie Belle nudged the smaller unicorn across the cell room floor. “Into the wagon!”

    “Okay!”

    “Sweetie Belle?” Apple Bloom sweated. “A lil' help here!”

    “Oh geez... oh geez...” Sweetie rushed over and picked the wooden end of the hammer up, helping the filly lug it into the wagon besides Dinky. “Scoots—!”

    “Good to go!” Scootaloo hopped onto the scooter, gripping the handles. “Everypony on board—!”

    “...for the last time,” Jake grumbled, shuffling into the room with a sniveling bulldog at his tail. “Bartholomew's the King! If he wants to wage war over a ham sandwich, then that's his prerogative—” Jake froze to a stop, claws scraping into the granite floor. Tonks bumped into his tail as the larger beast snarled through the bars. “What in Tartarus do you crud biscuits think you're doing?!”

    “Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom jumped on the wagon, yanking Sweetie along with her. “Hit it!”

    “Hitting!” Scootaloo gnashed her teeth and flung her cape aside, wings buzzing freely.

    “Oh no you don't!” Jake thundered towards the cell door, fumbling with his keys.

    “They're getting away!” Tonks grabbed the bars, shaking them and howling. “They're getting away!”

    The sound of his warbling voice faded, for the Cutie Mark Crusaders had rocketed through the wooden frame and straight down the tight earthen corridor. The cold walls rippled past them, their dull blue surfaces illuminated by the kerosene lamp dangling from the front of Scootaloo's scooter. The air inside was less stale, replaced instead by a bitter, moist breeze.

    “Where's that wind coming from?!” Sweetie Belle squeaked above the noise of the claustrophobic flight.

    “I dunno!” Scootaloo squinted ahead, veering left and right as she sped down the winding passage. “From the other end, I hope!”

    “Are the dogs coming after us?!” Dinky exclaimed.

    As if to answer that, the bulldog's voice cracked far behind. “Where did this hole come from?!”

    “Out of my way, Tonks!” Heavy breathing echoed down the corridor, accompanied with the rattling of metal bars. “Rrrrgh! Stay right here! I'll drag 'em out!” The tunnel next filled with clawing and scraping sounds, growing louder with each reverberation. “I swear, once I catch up to you little turds, I'm gonna skin your coats to make the Slashers a new banner!”

    “Did you hear that?!” Sweetie Belle mewled. “I don't wanna become a coatttt!”

    “Nopony's going to hang in a closet!” Scootaloo grunted, kicking at the tunnel's floor for extra speed. “Not if I have anything to do with it!!”

    “You can't get far, you little manure stains!”

    “I think he's getting madder!” Dinky stammered.

    “Madder...” Sweetie Belle blinked, then gasped. “Scootaloo! Quick! Stop the wagon!”

    “Huh?! You crazy?! He'll catch up to us!”

    “He's a Diamond Dog! He's going to catch up to us in this tunnel no matter what!” As the wagon came to a screeching halt, Sweetie pointed up at the uneven soil of the corridor's ceiling. “Our only hope is to make it harder for the creep to reach us!”

    Scootaloo blinked at the ceiling, then at her. “You mean like a cave-in?”

    Loud barks and howls rolled down the chamber, shaking every filly to their core.

    Apple Bloom looked at the dull walls in the lanternlight, then at the hammer. With a determined frown, she hopped out of the wagon. “Sweetie Belle! I need you to hold me in place!”

    “I get what you're doing!” Sweetie Belle brushed past Dinky and leaned off the vehicle's edge, hugging Apple Bloom around the waist. “Be careful—”

    Apple Bloom was already grabbing the hammer in her forelimbs. Pivoting up into a standing position, she swung the heavy metal end against the wall once—“Rrrgh!”—twice—“Gghh!”—a third time—“Come on, collapse!”

    “It's starting to g-give way!” Sweetie said, wincing from the trickle of dust and sediment.

    “It's not breaking hard enough!” Scootaloo stammered. “Hit it harder!”

    “I'm... gnnngh... trying!” Apple Bloom seethed with the next hammer strike.

    Up above, a pale tree root poked free from the ceiling. Dinky saw it. With a gasp, she pointed. “There!”

    “Huh?!”

    “The soil's soft!” Dinky exclaimed. “Somepony tug on it!”

    Scootaloo was already darting upwards. She bit onto the end of the root, her feathers buzzing for leverage.

    “You can't run from me!” A pale face lunged through the blackness behind them, its white coyote eyes brimming. “You're all dead meat—”

    Apple Bloom dropped the hammer into the wagon and jumped up, grabbing Scootaloo's waist. Together, she and Sweetie Belle used their weight, tugging.

    Scootaloo brought the tree root down with her teeth, and the rest of the ceiling along with it. There was a flash of fangs beyond, and then all was buried with a roar of collapsing earth.

    The Cutie Mark Crusaders fell back into their wagon. It rolled slowly away from the dark avalanche. Through the caving mess, they heard the Jake's yipping shrieks, growing more and more distant, accompanied by the panicked pounding of paws. Then, after a brief lapse of silence, a distinct shattering noise echoed far up the way they came.

    “Was... was...” Apple Bloom panted, gulped, and winced confusedly. “...was that glass?”

    “It could be accordion music for all I care,” Scootaloo wheezed, wiping her brow. She patted Apple Bloom's and Sweetie Belle's shoulder before giving Dinky a weary nod. “Quick thinking, Crusader.”

    Dinky clutched the flute around her neck. “Just... y'know... pulling my weight as the fourth wheel.”  She smiled. "Still, couldn't have done it without our ace in the hole."

    Scootaloo blinked, then smiled.

    “Awwwww poop.” Sweeie Belle pouted.

    “What's the matter?” Apple Bloom asked.

    “I got dirt and mud all over my Crusader cape!”

    Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Sweetie Belle...” She limped to her hooves and climbed back onto her scooter. “We all got our capes dirty.”

    “Yeah, but...” Sweetie Belle fidgeted. “...mine's shiniest!”

    Apple Bloom chuckled while Dinky grinned.

    “You can wash it later.” Scootaloo peered down the long, long tunnel ahead of them. “...as soon as we get out of here.”

    “You don't think that we sealed our only way out?” Sweetie asked, shivering slightly.

    Scootaloo shrugged into the torchlight. “Only one way to find out.” And she gently kicked the wagon forward.

    The next few moments passed in silence. The three ponies in the back of the wagon clung to each other, relishing each other's warmth as they kept their nervous gazes locked ahead. Scootaloo acted as point mare, her eyes tracing the circular edge of their lamp's penumbra around every turn. Finally, after ten minutes of muddled meandering, a light appeared at the end of the tunnel, insanely bright, almost hypnotically so. It instantly warmed them, so that the fillies exhaled with relief. Scootaloo kicked along steadily, heading towards the point of illumination.

    Around that moment, Dinky felt something cold slither past her neck. She looked down to see that the flute was dangling from its chain straight past her neck. When she looked back, she saw that hers and the other fillies' capes and manes were doing the same thing. With a curious expression, she gaped at Sweetie Belle.

    Sweetie Belle gulped and turned towards Scootaloo. “Say, Scoots.”

    “Yeah, Sweetie?”

    “Is it just me, or are we goin' uphill?”

    “We totally are.”

    “So... uhm...” Apple Bloom scratched her head. “How come we ain't slidin' backwards?”

    The tunnel fell quiet.

    Scootaloo shrugged. “I have no idea.” And she kept pushing, undaunted.

    The three fillies in the back waited in anxious silence. As the light became so bright that it engulfed them, they all leaned forward, eyes squinting. Then, with a sudden flash, they pierced through. Almost immediately, the wagon jolted beneath them.

    “Guh!” Scootaloo's whole body shook. She gripped the scooter’s handles tight as she felt both vehicles shifting forward a bit, then lingering to a stop. Her eyes fluttered, and she squinted across a bright green sunny expanse. “Where in Equestria are we?”

    “Uhhhhh...” Sweetie Belle shifted nervously. She hugged Dinky from behind while her wide green eyes traced a bizarre landscape of rolling hills and undulating hills, all overgrown with intricately spiraling vegetation. From a distance, the world divided itself into impossibly perfect squares, like a giant calico quilt of shrubbery and brightly colored flowers. The sky was a pulsating thing, with an indeterminate sun hanging somewhere nebulously overhead. When the group looked behind them, they were startled to see no tunnel, no hole, no terrestrial exit of any sort whatsoever. Instead, a gigantic sundial sat on a conical hill, traced with swirling patterns of grass that met at the center, where a rectangular mirror with an immaculate glass surface also loomed. For curiosity's sake, Dinky raised her hoof and waved it beside the wagon. Everypony noticed it produced no shadow. Just then, something shrieked and warbled from a distance, shaking the crusaders out of their skins.

    “Okay...” Scootaloo gulped. “...I stand corrected.”

Next Chapter: 4 - I've Officially Decided That I Hate This Place Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 25 Minutes