Spike slowly came to, opening his eyes to darkness. The sun had gone down: he realized that he must have been asleep for at least an hour. As his eyes slowly adjusted to night vision, he realized that he was still in the throne room, but he was alone in it: all of the others were gone!

"Twilight!" he called, getting to his feet and looking around the dark room. "Rarity! Pinkie Pie! Fluttershy! Applejack! Rainbow! Flash!"

His only response was his own voice echoing off the crystal walls. Turning, Spike saw something on the round table in the center of the room: an open box. Peering inside it, he saw a metal mechanism that looked kind of like a small fog machine. In a flash, he recalled the hooded pony, and the gas that had put them all to sleep.

Spike let out a strangled whimper and clung to the table with his claws as if trying to prevent his terror from carrying him away. That pony had taken his friends! But where? Why? What was he doing to them now? What was he going to do?

With an effort like crawling out of a deep well, Phillip forced himself awake. The first thing that came to his mind was the realization that he was still lying on the thatch roof. Opening his eyes, he was shocked to find that darkness had fallen: a glance at his watch showed that he'd been asleep for almost an hour!

Terror and panic fueled his conviction and dispelled his dizziness, and he leapt to his hooves. Pulling the dart out of his side with his teeth, he turned and ran towards the Castle in the distance. Reaching the edge of town, he dropped down from the roof of the last cottage, rolled as he hit the ground and sprinted across the open path to the castle doors, shoving them open and bursting into the main hall. "Flash!" he shouted, hurrying up the stairs. When he didn't see anypony in the hallway, his heart leaped to his throat and he burst into the throne room.

The only occupant of the room was Spike, who looked close to hysteria. "Phillip!" he shouted, hurrying over to him. "Somepony's kidnapped the others!"

Phillip's heart skipped a beat. Time seem to freeze around him: he felt like he was falling into cold darkness, completely helpless. But the look on Spike's face pulled him back to reality and grounded him. He knew that if he panicked, Spike would feed off of that terror, and that would doom them all for sure. Taking a breath, he forced his emotions into the back of his mind, allowing his rational instincts to take over.

"Tell me what happened," he said calmly, gripping Spike by the shoulders. The evenness of his tone went a way towards calming down the little dragon.

"We had just started talking when somepony opened the door. It was a pony wearing a cloak and gas mask: they were carrying a box, and some kind of gas was coming out of it. It knocked us all out. I woke up a few minutes ago, and I was all alone in the room." Frightened tears welled in Spike's eyes. "What are we going to do?"

"Spike, calm down. Send a letter to Celestia. Tell her what's happened."

Spike nodded: having a task, being able to do something about this situation, gave him an opportunity to control his fear, direct it into something. Taking out a scroll and quill that he'd intended to use to make notes, he wrote out a brief message to Celestia, telling her that Twilight and her friends had been abducted and that her help was needed. Rolling up the scroll, he took a breath and sent the message with a puff of his dragon flame. Almost as soon as the scroll had vanished, Spike felt a rumbling in his stomach that rushed up his throat. He belched loudly, causing another scroll to appear. He grabbed it and unrolled it, only to have his hopes dashed by the formulaic response on the scroll.

"Oh, no!" he shouted. "Celestia and Luna are both out and won't be back until morning!"

Phillip, who'd been examining the fog machine, did not externally react to this news, but his internal fears were multiplied by this news. Long experience had taught him that in situations like this, there were no coincidences: this had been planned. "It'll be all right. I'll do what I can."

Looking inside the box, Phillip saw something unusual. There were small wood chips inside the box. These he carefully pulled out. "Spike, does this castle have a laboratory?"

"Yes, in the basement," Spike said. "Come on!" Spike led the way down several flights of stairs into the castle's cavernous basement, which was well-stocked with a variety of scientific equipment that Twilight had managed to acquire to replace the lab in the Golden Oaks Library. Moving over to a microscope, Phillip placed the wood chips on a slide and carefully placed them beneath lens.

For the next hour, the clue was subjected to a variety of chemical tests under Phillip's expert instincts. Spike, desperate to do whatever he could, hurried back and forth as he gathered whatever supplies and equipment he needed. In between requests, he desperately fidgeted and danced, hopping from one foot to the other as he struggled to control his fear. Phillip worked quickly, but calmly, knowing that he couldn't afford to make mistakes.

"The wood is several years old," Phillip muttered, staring through the microscope lens. "Traces of corn starch...wheat...oil..." He shut his eyes and retreated into the inner recesses of his mind, drawing upon his knowledge of the town and the area. An abandoned building where one could find grains and oil...

"The abandoned water mill south of town," he said, already turning towards the stairs.

"Wait for me!" Spike shouted. Knowing that the little dragon wouldn't be persuaded from trying to help, Phillip paused just long enough for Spike to climb up on his back and secure a good grip before bolting back up the stairs. Racing out the castle, he hurried across the grass, making a beeline for the old water mill that lay at the river on the south of town.

His mind raced just as fast as his hooves. The shoes...the photographs...the wood chips...somepony's testing me. His heart rate jumped, and a surge of adrenaline raced through his body, giving him the energy to boost his speed. This is my fault. They're all in danger because of me.

Please, God, I'm begging You just this once: don't let me be too late!

It took them almost a half hour to reach the water mill. It was a long, two story building on the edge of the river, dry rot beginning to set into the off-white walls. The large mill still squeaked intermittently as the slow-moving river pushed it, even though it was no longer connected to the old, rusty machinery inside. A pair of doors stood before Spike and Phillip, the rusty chain that once held them together lying on the ground next to a sign that was so old and faded that the words "DO NOT ENTER" were barely discernible.

Phillip pushed the door open, taking out his flashlight and attaching it to his shoulder, flicking the light on. The first thing he saw was a bomb, consisting of several fat sticks of dynamite, entangled with wires and control boxes. A small green light blinked at them like an eye. Turning his light upward, Phillip saw words painted on the wall behind it.

"Follow the rules or they all die. Rule 1: you do this alone."

Phil looked back at Spike, who was staring at the words wide-eyed. "Well, you can see how this is, mate." He sat down, allowing Spike to slide off his back and onto the ground.

"But—" Spike protested.

"Spike, if you go in there with me, they all die," Phillip said flatly. "I know you're scared. I know you want to help. But you have to wait here." Spike looked like he was going to argue more, but he fell silent and nodded.

"If I haven't gotten everypony out by sunrise, go get help," Phillip said, turning back to the doors.

"You will get them out, right?" Spike said softly.

Phillip hesitated to answer. He wanted to assure Spike, promise him that it'd be okay. But he knew better than to make promises. "I'll do what I can," he said softly. Turning back to the doors to avoid Spike's baleful gaze, he stepped forward into the room.

For a moment, he hesitated. He felt like he was entering the hallway of his old home in Sydneigh on that night all those years ago...the night when all sense left his life. Only this time, he knew what was behind that door.

And he knew that he had to go through it. Taking a long, slow breath, he entered the mill, closing the door behind him. Stepping around the bomb, his flashlight illuminated a painted arrow on the floor. He turned and walked forward.

Flash opened his eyes to complete darkness. He realized that he was lying on his back, and felt cold, rough wood beneath him. "Twilight!" he shouted, sitting up, only to bump his head against something solid inches above his head. Feeling around with his hooves, he realized that he was inside a small wooden box, a couple feet longer than he was and about a half foot taller than him. Panic seized his mind upon this realization: desperate to escape, he pressed up against the top of the box, but a great weight held it firmly down.

Then, in the sharpness of sense that comes from fear, he detected a smell: wet, packed dirt.

No. No, no, no, no, no...!

"HELP!" he screamed, pounding against the wood. "SOMEPONY! HELP ME!"

But even if his voice could have carried through the coffin and the dirt that buried him, there was nopony around to hear it.

Author's Notes:

This isn't looking good, is it?

Be forewearned: the next few chapters are going to be kind of gimmicky. Deathtraps and riddles/puzzles will be involved. But bear with me, and tell me what you think.

I will tell you this: it's gonna get worse before it gets better.