3 WEEKS LATER...

“Look, lady, I know you kinda have a hard time thinking for yourself, but please, for the love of Luna, or Celestia, or whoever the heck you worship, think for a moment,” says Vinyl Scratch, her annoyance uncontainable. “The Fair Elections Act says that only certain ponies will be able to run for public offices, and with the Special Talents Act that already brought down those ‘approved’ for holding offices significantly. How is it fair to us, the commoner, when bigwigs in Canterlot are picking and choosing who we can vote for?”

“The Fair Elections Act is designed to make sure that only the best can lead us,” says a mare with the famous Canterlot accent. “Equestria needs leaders, and we need the best leaders, not uneducated nitwits who think they know politics or economics.”

“Funny, I actually agree with you on that.”

“Thank you.”

“But the point of an election is for the commoner to choose who they want to lead. The Fair Elections Act had set up a whole committee of unnamed and unelected officials that filters through the candidates. And that basically means that this ghost group can pick and choose who they want to lead the towns. They pick who goes on the ballots and they count the votes, not the citizens of the town. That, right there, is not freedom or an election, it is a game. A sick, twisted game, and I’ll be honest, all trust I had with Celestia went clean out the window with this thing.”

“You are too paranoid. This new law will help-”

“Did I tell you that your stupidity is pissing me off?”

“I beg your pardon!”

“What school did you go to?”

“The Royal University of Canterlot. Majored in Social Sciences and Minored in Economics.”

“Well, that explains a lot. Goodbye Mrs. Upper Crust.”

Click.

“Well,” says Vinyl Scratch, chuckling to recollect herself, but the chuckling turns into a painful cough that lasts for a good few seconds before it ends with the DJ gasping and swallowing. She chuckles again, clearly nervous this time. “That was not very fun, and I’m pretty sure I just lost a listener. Oh well, you gotta do what you gotta do, right? Anyway, peeps, just remember that just because you got a degree that doesn’t mean you’re smarter. Heck, it’ll probably make you so smart that you’ll become an idiot. Paradoxes all around! And I can guarantee you guys that I’ll be getting a visit from those ponies in black since I am speaking my mind. But that is no reason we shouldn’t enjoy some music!”

An uplifting mix of guitars and drums start playing in the background.

“Sweetie Belle just came out with a single to promote her new album, ‘Jar of Marks’. Ladies and gentlecolts, I present to you, ‘Cutie Mark Anthem’. And later we’ll talk about fund-raising for horn cancer victims and a very special promotion for everypony’s favorite pie loving pegasus.”

Rainbow Dash sighs with a lot of exaggeration as she shifts in the uncomfortable cushion she has been sitting on for hours to watch the ceremony unfold for Soarin’s promotion. From the ceremonial formations and to speeches by the brass about why they support Celestia’s decision and about how great Soarin is, Loyalty is facing possibly the most boring day of the year. And it doesn’t help that when Soarin had been sworn in, he had to do a whole ceremony with Mother Glory to make his oath towards not just Equestria and the Royal Government, but to a higher power as well; namely the Goddess of the Sun and Equestria, Celestia.

The tedious ceremony in the great chamber has made Rainbow Dash’s crisp uniform stick to her vibrant coat with sweat, and every time she shifts to make herself more comfortable, she gets a quick glance from the surrounding ponies, one of which is Spitfire, who just happens to be sitting directly next to her. Unlike Rainbow Dash, Spitfire and the others don’t appear to have a sweating problem, and it is ticking her off. She spent hours getting her body groomed, her wings preened, and her uniform pressed for this event, and it is ruined by something as stupid as smelly water escaping her pores. Luckily for her, though, the event is taking a break in preparation for Soarin’s big acceptance speech, giving her some time to relax.

Rainbow Dash groans quietly and looks at her commanding officer. Naturally her commander is sweat proof and her uniform is pristine along with the grooming and preening she had done. It makes Loyalty slightly jealous and curious on how Spitfire is able to accomplish such a feat. When Spitfire glances at Rainbow Dash out of the corner of her eye, she is quick to turn away to disguise her curiosity with admiration of the fantastic murals painted on the ceiling.

The backdoor opens and Rainbow Dash cranes her neck over the sea of similar uniforms to see who has entered. Most don’t notice the newcomers, though, since they are talking quietly to one another, some chuckling and others keep a stern expression. Rainbow Dash spots the now Director Glimmer Fuller walking along the wall, and she shrinks in her seat when she sees him look at her. Then another pony catches her eye. Wearing a simple dress suit with the Research and Development seal pinned on her jacket and wearing a dark eye patch is Twilight Sparkle.

Rainbow Dash cocks her head, hoping to Celestia that her eyes are playing tricks on her. But when the Element of Magic shakes hooves with Fuller, the colorful pegasus pales. The two unicorns exchange a few words and Twilight covers her mouth with her hoof to poorly hide her blush and giggle as Fuller smiles. Rainbow Dash's jaw drops.

“Hey, you okay?” asks Spitfire.

Rainbow Dash swallows her nerves and looks at her superior. “I’m fine, ma’am, kinda, just nervous.” She looks at Twilight and Fuller again; now her friend is sitting next to Fuller. “Really nervous, actually. Do you trust Fuller?”

Spitfire arches an eyebrow. “Um, yeah. He is the one who led R and D in reverse engineering Roar Shock’s tech.”

“Well, yeah, but doesn’t he creep you out?”

Spitfire looks at Fuller for a quick second. “Not really. Sure he’s quiet, but he’s also well spoken, smart, and gentle.”

Rainbow Dash snorts; she wants to tell Spitfire that Fuller may be smart and well spoken, but he is certainly not gentle.

Spitfire taps her chin. “Now that I think about it, he also has an eye for talent. Did you know that he convinced Celestia to let Soarin be the one to take Shining Armor’s place as Captain of the Royal Guard?”

Rainbow Dash’s feathers ruffle and her eyes widen. “What!” Some heads turn to her, looking slightly aggravated by her outburst, one of which is Spitfire. Realizing what had happened Rainbow Dash shrinks in her seat and lowers her voice to a whisper. “That was him?”

Spitfire nods, still holding her annoyed look. “You got a problem with that?”

“I do. Soarin can’t handle that kind of responsibility.”

Spitfire’s look turns to a full on glare and she turns away from Rainbow Dash, snorting hot air. “Soarin is more than capable of leading, you’re just mad that he dumped you. You were too young for him, anyway.”

Rainbow Dash grinds her teeth and uses nearly all of her willpower to stop herself from jabbing her long time idol and to keep her wings from expanding to challenge her.

“I’m not mad,” hisses Rainbow Dash. Spitfire folds her hooves across her chest and looks at Rainbow Dash skeptically. “Okay, fine, I’m still mad, but this is Soarin we’re talking about. He leads teams good, I’ll give him that, but he’s kinda-”

Spitfire’s hoof shoots up. “Shut it, Dash. Soarin is on stage.”

Soarin taps the microphone, and folds his ears with a wince when feedback screeches through the speakers. He mumbles an apology and adjusts the microphone to suit his position, and Rainbow Dash folds her hooves across her chest and glares at him when he looks at her. He swallows his spit and tries to smile to calm his nerves, but with all the eyes on him, and Rainbow Dash there, sporadic, nervous twitches and thick beads of sweat sabotage is professional appearance.

“I, um, I didn’t really have time to prepare a speech,” says Soarin, his voice echoing through the chamber with the help of the speakers.

Rainbow Dash rolls her eyes and Spitfire smiles encouragingly and motions Soarin to continue. Soarin looks at Spitfire and manages a weak smile before he clears his throat. Twice.

Soarin chuckles nervously and clears his throat yet again. “And, well, since I couldn't really prepare, this whole... thing will be on the fly. Kinda. I mean, I have some idea of what I was... gonna... say, but, um...”

Now Rainbow Dash starts feeling bad for Soarin, she can visibly see the sweat dampening his coat and uniform, and his hoof drums nervously against the podium. His whole body is drooped and he looks like he’s begging someone to shoot him so they can postpone everything. She turns her head slightly to look at the unimpressed looks the officers and politicians are giving him. Even Celestia looks sort of impatient. But then again the Sun Goddess does look worse for wear, so it probably has absolutely nothing to do with Soarin’s idiocy. From what Rainbow Dash can see, the only one who isn’t giving him a hard look is Spitfire, and his longtime friend mouths something to him that makes him smile a bit.

“In the past ten years,” begins Soarin again, taking another moment to catch his thoughts. “In the past ten years we have seen our nation strained under all kinds of... things.”

Rainbow Dash can’t help but facehoof at that, and she’s sure Spitfire cringed at his painfully poor choice of words. She is certain she hears a groan and someone mutter some swears, too.

Soarin gulps. “Corruption and degradation have become normal, when it should not be. Equestria was meant to be a city on a hill, a beacon for those all over the world to show that Harmony does exist, and that through Harmony, all things are possible. The Equestrian Dream has been around for over a thousand years, and is now under attack from terrorists, separatists, anarchists, and other lowlifes. These are the very people that are ruining the fabric of our society, and they must be stopped. No matter what.”

Rainbow Dash’s ears perk and she slowly lifts her head to look at Soarin. Hearing such words from him was completely unexpected, and when she sees him, she gets mixed feelings. On the one hand, seeing Soarin fired up is something that she likes seeing, but this is the kind of fired up she is doesn’t like to see. Soarin has a new look of determination, but she can also see the anger and resolve burning in him, like he has been waiting for this moment to take charge and fix Equestria his way. The politicians and officers are smiling, though, and some nod in agreement.

“And while our civilization, our way of life, faces constant attack from within, Equestria still stands! And I assure you that I will take the fight to them so our way of life it will continue another thousand years!”

There is a wave of thunderous applause from everyone, everyone but Rainbow Dash. She is really getting worried about Soarin now, and she while everyone is applauding over Soarin's passionate speech, she looks over at Fuller and sees him smiling. And it is not a smile for hearing something amazing. It looks like a triumphant smile. Like he had just played a huge joke and is now waiting to see the crowd’s reaction when they catch on. Soarin's words and the noise from the excited audience no longer matter to Rainbow Dash, all she cares about is Fuller and Twilight, and when Fuller looks at Rainbow Dash he smirks and makes it known that he is trying to hide a chuckle. Then he inches closer to Twilight without taking his eyes off of the pegasus and applauds next to her, gradually turning his eyes back to the stage.

Rainbow Dash growls and is about to fly out of her seat, but is stopped when Spitfire puts her hoof on her shoulder and gives her a very disappointed and stern glare. For good measure Spitfire thrusts Rainbow Dash in her seat and watches her out of the corner of her eye.

When the crowd settles, Soarin takes a breath and observes the crowd, beaming and now sweating from the enthusiasm he put forth rather than nervousness.

“The task is daunting, the road ahead will be tough, but I promise you that I will not let Equestria fall,” pledges Soarin, his eyes focusing on Rainbow Dash and Spitfire. They are kept on the two mares for a few seconds before his eyes flick towards the mass. “Equestria's new dawn is coming, and we will come out stronger than ever! Thank you and Celestia bless the Solar Empire of Equestria!”

He gets a standing ovation, and Soarin steps away from the podium, bows to Princess Celestia, who returns the bow with a tired smile, and the two walk off of the stage and disappear to the throne room with a small army of guards and agents flanking them. As the crowd files out of the room, Rainbow Dash ditches Spitfire and hurries after Twilight, who has yet to ditch Fuller.

She calls after Twilight, and when they go on a balcony, she is finally able to get her attention. Twilight and Fuller stop near the edge, which gives them a fantastic view of Canterlot and an even better view of the Celestial Spire, which looks to be nearing completion. When Rainbow Dash catches up, she stares evilly at Fuller and he returns it with an innocent smile. This goes on for a few seconds before Rainbow Dash looks at Twilight.

“You're looking... better?” says Rainbow Dash uneasily as she looks up and down Twilight. “You're looking good in that suit, too. Do you like your new job?”

Twilight smiles and nods. “Yeah, Major Fuller-”

“Director Fuller,” corrects the stallion lightly.

Twilight smiles sheepishly at him and apologizes with a giggly tone. This makes Rainbow Dash grimace.

“Director Fuller has been very helpful getting me settled in,” continues Twilight. “He kind of reminds me of me since he's also a workaholic. Running CDA while helping me and providing advice to Celestia and all.”

“Such is the way of us workaholics,” remarks Fuller with a smile directed towards Magic. “I knew I made the right choice when I told Celestia that you would be perfect for such an honorable position.”

Rainbow Dash forces herself to smile when Twilight giggles like a nervous filly again, and she finds it even harder to keep her fake smile when Fuller chuckles with her friend. But her phony smile breaks into a full on glare when Fuller asks Twilight about the possibilities of “after work meetings”.

Rainbow Dash bullies her way between Twilight and Fuller, wings expanded threateningly and eyes narrowing on the stallion as she puts a hoof protectively over Twilight’s shoulder. “Okay, Fuller, you need to buzz off. Me and Twilight need to talk. Alone.”

A small, barely noticeable smile tugs on Fuller's lips. “Of course, Airmare Dash.”

Twilight waves goodbye to Fuller with a disappointed smile, but when she looks at Rainbow Dash her smile is replaced with a scowl.

“That was rude,” says Twilight sharply.

“Twilight, I'm not much for manners, especially when there's a jerk next to me. Anyway, you're looking better, I'm glad you're better, but we need to talk.”

Twilight arches an eyebrow. “About what? I don't have much time to talk. I have to figure out the details about the Spire. Then I have to talk to Celestia about-”

“Finding Pinkie? Good, I'm glad we're on the same page.”

“Um, no, I was going to have to talk to her about more funding for Research and Development.” Twilight puts her hoof on Rainbow Dash's shoulder and offers a comforting smile. “But don't worry, Dash, I'm sure Pinkie is fine. Celestia and Cadence are working around the clock to find her as well as negotiating with Bernese about Shining’s release.”

Rainbow Dash frowns. “They need to work harder or I'll find Pinkie personally.”

“In case you haven't realized, Dash, you are not a super sleuth. And besides, we have two intelligence agencies looking for her.”

Rainbow Dash groans irritably. “Twilight, use your egghead powers and think! If Bernese finds Pinkie before we do, they're going to lock her up again, and if one of our guys finds her then those goats will want her back! We have to find her so they don’t send her back to that hole!”

Twilight shakes her head. “Celestia won't let Bernese take her.”

Rainbow Dash looks down, being surprisingly careful to let her insults simmer at just a murmur, and Twilight huffs and looks past Rainbow Dash to see Fuller talking to the Flim Flam Brothers and Filthy Rich. When Fuller looks at Twilight, she offers a sheepish smile and motions that she'll be there in a moment. Rainbow Dash glares at Fuller, then brings her eyes to Twilight.

“Hey, Twilight, can I ask you a favor?” asks Rainbow Dash in a careful, yet still hostile tone.

“Sure, what do you need?” asks Twilight, oblivious to Rainbow Dash's tone.

“I need you to stay away from Fuller. I don't like him. He stinks.”

Twilight scowls. “First off, I'm going to say 'No', because you are not my mom. Secondly, he doesn't stink. He actually smells nice. Kinda like fresh rain.”

Rainbow Dash facehoofs, even though she is not too surprised by Twilight's lack of knowledge regarding slang terms for corrupted douche bags. When she does lower her hoof, though, it comes out as a small stomp.

“No, Twilight, just think about it! Use your gut, something isn’t right!” says Rainbow Dash in an angry whisper.

“Nothing has been right ever since Blueblood’s assassination.”

“I know, but I think he-” Rainbow Dash points at Fuller, silently grateful that he’s too busy talking to the same trio of stallions to see her pointing at him “-has something to do with this.”

“With what?”

“All of this!” says Rainbow Dash with an exaggerated wave of her hoof. “Shining Armor wanted me to watch him for some reason, and you and I both know that Shining Armor wouldn’t have me do something like that without a good reason. You gotta stay away from him, Twilight, he's dangerous!”

“Right, the one that helped Andromeda collect the evidence for Brisk Wind’s would-be prosecution, is arresting corrupted officials and is looking for the one who not only framed my brother but also murdered Quill Pen and Brisk Wind, is dangerous. Face it, Dash, Fuller has done more for Equestria in the past few weeks than Shining has in ten years, and I respect him for that. You should, too, since he's trying to help everypony.”

Rainbow Dash stomps her hooves and groans angrily while glaring at the clouds. Then she brings her glare at Twilight, wanting to tell her how much of an idiot she’s being right now, but her train of thought takes a drive off of the mental cliff when she sees Twilight pulling out a pack of nicotine free cigarettes from her jacket pocket. Then her mind goes completely blank when Twilight tries to lights one. The lavender unicorn is having trouble with her lighter, though, and Rainbow Dash takes a step back when Twlight's mane starts smoking as the lighter sparks uselessly. And just when Twilight's mane is about to burst into flames, a small ball of fire pokes out and lights the pseudo-cigarette, thus calming Twilight down.

“Since when do you smoke?” asks Rainbow Dash with her jaw nearly to the floor.

Twilight gives Rainbow Dash a deadpanned look. “Ever since my eye was cut out by a psychopath.” She takes a puff, and continues with a resentful tone, her mane smoking slightly again. “And guess what, Fuller and Celestia were the only ones who visited me when I was in the hospital. Even Rarity managed to send me a card. Where were you or Fluttershy?”

Rainbow Dash suddenly finds it difficult to look at Twilight. “I-I was training and-”

“You sure found time to stay by Pinkie’s side,” grumbles Twilight.

Rainbow Dash’s wings snap open and with a vicious snarl, she knocks the cigarette out of Twilight’s lips and rams her against the wall, seething and eyes filling with tears. She can hear the crowd gasp and murmur, and someone telling someone else to call security.

“Pinkie was dying, Twilight,” growls Rainbow Dash tearfully. “She was bleeding to death in my arms! Have you ever felt somepony else’s blood all over you? Have you ever sat in a hospital, all night, without any sleep because you were afraid that your best friend was going to die?”

Twilight’s face falls, and she shakes her head slowly. Rainbow Dash’s scowl intensifies and she shoves Twilight away right as some Royal Guards gallop up. Rainbow Dash turns towards the exit, wings still expanded threateningly and eyes narrowed. The crowd clears a path for her, but she is stopped when two Royal Guard pegasi hover over her.

“Let her go,” orders Twilight as she cleans off her cigarette. “It was just a misunderstanding.”

Rainbow Dash looks over her shoulder, and Twilight walks up to her, her eye and a small trail on her cheek shining in the light.

“Rainbow Dash, I was not up all night in a hospital when Spike died,” she says, her voice wet and cracking. “I was sitting in dirt, next to his cot, holding his hand and telling him that he was going to be okay. I watched him die slowly, suffering every moment, but I never left his side. You didn’t lose a friend, but I lost my son.”

Rainbow Dash looks down and Twilight walks away with her head down and cigarette back in her mouth. Rainbow Dash watches Twilight go to a corner and get a comforting hoof from Fuller, and when he looks at Rainbow Dash, she snorts and flies away without looking back.

Hours had ticked by since Rainbow Dash last spoke with Twilight. Her words about her having lost her son have yet to leave the pegasus's ears, and as much as she tries not to, she does feel a trickle of tears sneak down her cheek.

Rainbow Dash whines quietly and wipes the tear off while shifting on the cloud she is laying on. It is the only gray one in the whole city from what she can see, and she knows she's raining on something because she can hear the droplets patter and some passerby grumble about “rogue clouds”. But she ignores them and buries herself inside the cloud so only her tail is dangling out like a colorful fishing line. She just hopes no one tries to tug on it like when she lived in Ponyville.

“Rainbow?”

Rainbow Dash pokes her head up, wondering who is calling her when she sees a familiar charcoal pegasus sitting in front of her on his own cloud, which is also gray like hers. She scowls and burrows herself inside to protect herself from the unwanted attention.

“Go away, Thunderlane,” she grumbles.

“I was just checking to see if you're okay,” he says uneasily.

“I'm fine.”

He hesitates. “That's not what you're cloud says.”

Rainbow Dash sighs heavily and slides out from her fluffy cover to sit on the top, her uniform now damp, wrinkled and unbuttoned in spots, but at that point she really could care less. She stares at him harshly and he looks down, swallowing nervously. She stares at him with a scowl, but that scowl soon melts away and she breaks eye contact with the stallion to mope on her cloud again.

“Really, I'm fine, just gotta blow some steam off, ya know?” she says depressingly, then she points at Thunderlane's cloud. “So, what's got your tail in a knot?”

“Oh, this?” He looks at his cloud. “This is seriously nothing. I've never been able to get them white and fluffy. They always turn gray and... and, uh, yeah.” He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck nervously. “I guess that is why they nicknamed me 'Stormcloud' at camp.”

“At least it's a cool nickname.”

“Yeah, I guess that's true.”

The two fall silent and stare at the sunset together, their clouds still hanging together, but Rainbow Dash's cloud is now turning a light shade of gray while Thunderlane's is still dark gray. More minutes of silence tick by, and to Rainbow Dash she finds it relaxing. Sure there is the noise of the city below, but right now all she is seeing is beautiful scenery with the Celestial Spire in the center of it all. She gets a content smile and lays down on her cloud, and Thunderlane's eyes shift side to side before he lays down on his cloud, edging it just a bit closer to hers.

“Are you hitting on me?” asks Rainbow Dash with a teasing smirk.

“What? No!” blurts Thunderlane, caught completely off guard by her accusation.

“Pretty bold of you to bring your cloud close to mine, don'tcha think?”

“I was trying to get-”

Thunderlane falls silent and Rainbow Dash's smirk turns to a frown when Soarin flies up to them, wearing the crisp red uniform of the Captain of the Royal Guard with his generous supply of medals pinned proudly to his chest. Not too far from him is the small army of guards.

Soarin looks at the two and they stare back at him, though Rainbow Dash has a resentful frown while Thunderlane snaps a salute. Soarin looks at Thunderlane in such a way that makes Rainbow Dash uncomfortable. To her, the look is purely hostile.

“At ease,” orders Soarin harshly. Thunderlane's hoof drops and the new Captain of the Royal Guard turns to Rainbow Dash with a meek smile and chirpy tone. “I've been looking everywhere for you. You disappeared after the ceremony.”

“I had to go. Kinda almost did something stupid again. You know how it is,” says Rainbow Dash coolly.

Thunderlane's nervous eyes drift between the two as their awkward conversation carries on. When he slowly drifts away with his cloud, Rainbow Dash instantly notices it out of the corner of her eye.

“So, I was just wondering if you'd like to come with me and Spitfire to have a little fun? We're going to be celebrating my promotion and I want you to be there,” says Soarin with a pleasant smile.

“Sorry, I already got a date,” says Rainbow Dash.

Soarin arches an eyebrow and he looks at Thunderlane. The charcoal pegasus freezes and his coat pales while snowflakes float down from his cloud. Rainbow Dash zips next to Thunderlane, puts her hoof around his neck and brings him to a respectful distance away from Soarin, being sure have his body rub against hers so they can sit on her cloud together. And to rub salt in the eyes of her ex, Rainbow Dash smiles brightly and pecks Thunderlane's cheek, making the poor stallion's cheeks nearly burn off with the raging blush scorching his face.

“Yep, me and Thunderlane here have the whole evening planned. We're going to hit up every bar, get trashed and let nature decide what's next,” says Rainbow Dash proudly.

Thunderlane's wings shoot out, fully erect with a loud pumph. He swears under his breath, pulls away from the colorful mare and forms a curtain of clouds to get his problem under control. Soarin, in the meantime, looks at Rainbow Dash with an unimpressed frown.

“You're joking, right?” he asks venomously.

Rainbow Dash scoffs. “Uh, yeah. Come on, Soarin, I'm not a husky. I don't do crazy stuff like that.”

Rainbow Dash rolls her eyes just a bit and Soarin looks at Thunderlane's cloud cover when they hear him sigh loudly with relief. There is a moment of tense silence before it is broken by the newly appointed Captain of the Royal Guard.

“Okay, so why not come with me and Spitfire to Monte's show? Everypony will be there. Flim and Flam. Filthy Rich. Fuller. Even your friend, Twilight, will be there.”

Rainbow Dash scowls. “Dude, I just told you that me and Thunderlane were hanging out tonight.”

“I thought you said you were joking.”

“I was joking about the bars! I don't even think Thunderlane likes alcohol, right, Thunderlane?” She looks at his cloud curtain expectantly, but when she doesn't hear even a whisper, she sighs explosively and punches through the cloud, making the stallion on the other side yelp “Right, Thunderlane?”

“Y-Yeah. Hate that stuff. It gives me gas,” stammers Thunderlane.

Rainbow Dash grimaces from the unexpected excuse while Soarin snorts and shakes his head in disappointment. She can't tell if he is angry that she is turning him down or angry about her claim of having a new male courting her, but whatever the case is she knows he's mad. His jaw is tight, his eyes are narrowed slightly with his nostrils flaring just a bit, and then there is the unmistakable hard flap of his wings.

“Well, Dash,” begins Soarin with an angry sigh, “enjoy your evening with him. You'll know where to find me if you change your mind.”

“Cool. Thanks. Buh-bye now.”

Soarin snorts again and flies away with a powerful launch while Rainbow Dash taunts him with a cheerful wave. When he is out of sight, she exhales and turns back to the cloud cover. She pokes her head through, grinning wolfishly when she sees Thunderlane is still plagued with the ever so famous wing boner. It takes him a moment, but as soon as he realizes she's violated his privacy he yells with surprise.

“Do you mind?” he asks, trying to sound mad but his quivering voice betrays him.

“Not at all. How would you like to see Monte's show?”

“Uh, I don't really...”

“Awesome! You're buying the tickets!”

She pulls her head out and Thunderlane stares at where her head was just seconds earlier, blinking and questioning what the heck just happened.

Monte lifts his head from his desk to stare at his reflection in the well lighted mirror. Despite the skill of the makeup artists, he still sees faint scars from his trip to Bernese. Though, a part of him believes that his mind is seeing things that aren't there.

His eyes stay on his reflection as he levitates his stage hat on his head and straightens out his show cape. Then he looks at a newspaper clipping talking about Octavia's funeral with the name of the cemetery underlined and highlighted with a bold red line circling it. Monte's attention turns towards a schedule taped on the mirror and notes how his next show starts in a couple of hours.

He turns slightly when he hears a hard knock on the door, but before he can say anything it opens up and a burly EIB agent strolls in with Hank and Andromeda in tow. Monte puts on his game face and smiles sweetly at Andromeda and Hank as they approach him.

“Hi there, Hank. Andromeda, fancy seeing you here. Did you miss me?” says Monte with forced lightness.

“If you mean I missed you after being away for a couple of hours then yes. Yes I did,” says Andromeda.

Monte frowns. “Seriously?”

“No.”

Monte smiles with relief. “Oh. Good. You scare me.”

Andromeda orders Hank to have a seat and while he does that, she walks up to Monte's setup and grabs the newspaper. Monte swallows and looks down. She looks at the obviously marked section of it and gives Monte a questionable glance.

“Going somewhere?” she asks.

“I was just wanting to pay my respects,” says Monte. “I figured I owed her that much after-”

Monte yelps when Andromeda smacks him over the head with the now rolled up newspaper. Hanks snorts a laugh, making Monte glare at him, and Andromeda tosses the newspaper away.

“I told you that you weren't going anywhere!” scolds Andromeda.

“Oh come on!” whines Monte. “Brisk Wind is dead! What's there to worry about?”

“Her influence is still around, so there's plenty to worry about.”

Monte snorts and levitates the newspaper towards him, saying: “Well, guess what, I'm still going out. Hank, I'm not feeling too good so you're going to have to take over while I 'sleep' this off.”

Hank pales and Andromeda frowns. The room goes deathly quiet as the three ponies exchange glances at each other. Monte knows that Hank is petrified and he knows that Andromeda wants to cuff him someplace. Normally he would find the cuffing kinky, especially if it was in his bedroom, but right now he's not feeling it. He needs to go and Hank is the only one he trusts enough to run things while he's away, despite him officially working for Fancy Pants, and Andromeda, whether she likes it or not, is just going to have to deal with it.

The clock strikes five, and suddenly Monte's room is filled with two sets of voices, both panicked but one being terrified while the other is furious.

“I can't go out there!” “You can't go out there!” yell Hank and Andromeda in unison.

Monte rolls his eyes and walks towards the door, but the EIB agent that let his guests in stands steadfast. All Monte can do is try to act tough by puffing out his chest, putting on his fiercest glare and snarl and pointing at the guard. It comes out more as a child's extremely comical attempt to look tough in front of an older bully.

“Outta my way, I'm leaving!” orders Monte.

“You're not going anywhere,” says Andromeda authoritatively.

“I haven't been on stage in years!” cries Hank.

Monte looks at the two. He swears Hank is about to have a heart attack and with the way Andromeda is staring at him, he's sure the Andromeda he met in Bernese will come out and beat him silly again. Monte sighs and walks up Hank and puts a hoof on his shoulder.

“Relax, Hank, you still got it in ya. Just think of this as your big comeback,” says Monte with an encouraging smile.

“But-But this is your show and your stuff! None of it is mine!” stammers Hank.

“You never planned anything with your shows. How is this any different?”

Andromeda grabs Monte and turns him towards her so he is looking directly into her golden eyes and jabs him hard in the chest, pushing the air out of his lungs and making him stumble back. He coughs and gags for air as Andromeda screams at him.

“You're being an idiot! We can't call off a show this late!”

“I can if I'm not feeling well,” counters Monte smugly.

“But you're feeling fine!”

A burst of annoyance burns through Monte, and he brings the newspaper up to the side of his head and then slams the marked portion of it on Andromeda's face.

“If I was feeling fine I wouldn't be wanting to visit somepony's grave, now would I!” yells Monte furiously as Andromeda steps back and yanks the newspaper off of her face.

Monte scoffs and shakes his head, pacing in circles as the other two unicorns stare at him. The EIB guard is still staring straight ahead, and his lack of emotion is annoying Monte to no end, but he isn't about to waste his time demanding a cardboard character to show some emotion. Instead, he wipes his nose, blinks the watery fuzz out of his eyes and looks at his guests as they stare back at him. Andromeda looks at the newspaper again, and Monte shakes his head, sits on one of his couches and looks at his hooves.

“Octavia P. M. Pie at the Fairmount Hill Cemetery,” reads Andromeda quietly. She silently reads the rest of the article about Octavia's funeral before she lowers her eyes and the newspaper. “I didn't know you were a friend.”

“I wasn't, but she still came to me for help,” says Monte quietly. He swallows a wet lump in his throat and sighs heavily as tears trail down his cheeks. “And let's just say Trixie was right. I am a pig. It just took me hurting her to realize it. Now I have to make things right. Starting with apologizing to a dead mare.”

Hank steps forward. “Monte, you don't-”

“I got Octavia killed!” exclaims Monte tearfully as he jumps to his hooves. “If I hadn't been so stupid she would still be here, playing music and performing at the Gala! But she's dead! Dead because of me! Now you're going to let me go and you are going to take my place because I need to apologize, deal? Good. I'm gone.”

Monte stomps towards the door and once again gives the guard a confrontational look. The EIB guard simply stares back, unmoving or unblinking, like they had become a fleshy statue. Monte is about to take a drastic action when Andromeda steps forward.

“Let him go,” she orders. The guard steps aside, allowing Monte full freedom to use the door, but he pauses in the middle of the hallway when the new EIB director speaks again. “I'll be sending escorts with you.”

Monte groans and Andromeda trots past him, ordering the burly guard to keep an eye on Hank. Hank stutters and stammers as he gives chase to the two leaving unicorns, and when they near the end of the hallway, Monte pauses and puts comforting hoof on Hank's shoulder with a small smile.

“Hank, this is your comeback day. Enjoy it. Love it. Care for it. I'll be back in a little bit. This is something I gotta do, alright?”

Hank swallows, but nods anyway and the EIB guard walks up to Hank and silently escorts him back to Monte's room.

Nearly an hour has passed before Monte had his entourage assembled in the back of his casino, well hidden from any and all prying eyes. His dozen guards are standing around with EIB agents, some looking bored while others are looking too intense for their own good. Monte sits on one of the benches and enjoys the warm breeze while his eyes stare distantly at Canterlot's skyline. As he stares, his cards shuffle in his magic like a serpent constantly expanding and retracting in the air. Monte's eyes drift towards the cards when they roll around each other gracefully, presenting their Gothic decorations to him. He makes the cards stop when he spots a queen of hearts floating by. Monte brings the card closer and stacks the others neatly away in his pocket while keeping the queen out. The queen is a dark mare in a red dress, holding the spear stabbing a heart with her hooves. She has a sensual smirk, like she is beckoning her next victim to come to her under the promise that she doesn't bite.

“Here they come,” says one of the agents.

Monte looks up to see a convoy of black vehicles with the EIB seal on it pulling up with his mini-train limo and a few other motorized wagons. Monte tucks the last card away and goes into the limo. Once he gets to his limo wagon he hands the driver the address of Fairmount Hill Cemetery. The driver merely grumbles and drives down the road, and Monte lays his head back and closes his eyes, silently hoping that everything goes well with Hank while he's gone.

“Uh, Rainbow, why are we here again?” asks Thunderlane uneasily as he and Rainbow Dash slither their way through the crowd, both acting nervous in their own way. Thunderlane is eying the large crowd uneasily and trying not to get bumped so his uniform can retain its pristine look while Rainbow Dash is acting like a wannabe agent with her uniform still a mess. “And why are you acting like this?”

Rainbow Dash zips behind a corner, dragging Thunderlane with her and presses him against the wall as she peeks out from her cover. She see Soarin and Fuller casually talking.

“I'm not acting like anything,” claims Rainbow Dash defensively, quickly pulling into cover when Fuller's head turns towards her location. “I'm just looking for a good seat.”

“In the bar?”

Rainbow Dash nods. “Yeah, we're going to be drinking ourselves silly aren't we?”

Thunderlane looks down and twiddles with his hooves nervously. “I thought you were joking about that. I mean, I still got a check on Rumble and-”

Rainbow Dash peeks around the corner again, mentally swearing when she doesn't see Fuller, only Soarin sitting with Spitfire while the obvious EIB agents walk around, scanning the crowd without blinking.

“I'm sure Rumble's fine,” says Rainbow Dash carelessly as her eyes dart around the area in search for her target. “Besides, you gotta give the kid some space. What if he has a mare over?”

Thunderlane frowns. “He's not supposed to have any mares over.”

Rainbow Dash looks at him quizzically. “Why?”

“Cloudchaser.”

“Say no more.” Rainbow Dash looks over again and swears under her breath when a certain older stallion comes into view. She is speechless as to how or why the stallion is already tipsy at such an hour, and when he sees her he gets a smile and trots over. Rainbow Dash's heart spikes and when the stallion gets dangerously close to her she turns around and grabs Thunderlane's cheeks and turns his head to hers. “Quick, kiss me!”

Thunderlane's eyes widen. “What!”

“No time to explain, just kiss me!”

“Why!”

Rainbow Dash looks around the corner and sees the dreaded stallion is just a few paces away. Not wasting anymore time, she snaps back to Thunderlane and presses her lips against his. Thunderlane stumbles and falls on his rump while the blue pegasus continues her devious activity. She wraps her hoof around his neck to tug him closer to her. She feels his whole body tense and heat up like a burning plank of wood. When she tries to make the kiss more intimate, his whole body trembles and his lips lock to where it is like kissing a line.

“Aw man, why do all the pretty ones get the good looking guys?” whines Filthy Rich with a slur as he stumbles past them.

While he sways past the two, they follow him with their eyes and once they are out of his sight Rainbow Dash pushes Thunderlane away from herself and wipes her mouth. Then she looks at him with an unimpressed frown while he continues looking at the old, drunk stallion.

“Is he drunk already?” asks Thunderlane with a dropped jaw and a hoof aimed at Filthy Rich.

“Yeah, all he does is drink and trying to pick up pegasi now. But, dude, have you ever kissed a mare? Your kiss was completely lame,” berates Rainbow Dash.

“I kissed my mom on the cheek once,” offers Thunderlane with a weak smile.

“Once?”

Thunderlane nods.

“That doesn't count!”

“But my mom is a mare.”

“It still doesn't count.”

Thunderlane looks down, sighing in disappointment, and Rainbow Dash looks over her shoulder to see Fuller talking to Twilight near the entrance of where the audience will watch Hank Fountain perform in place of Monte. Thunderlane tells Rainbow Dash something, but she barely hears him since she is so focused on watching Fuller and Twilight. She doesn't know what they are talking about, all she knows is that Twilight is doing the exact opposite of what she asked her to do. Her eyes narrow and she releases a low growl with her wings expanded slightly when Fuller leans in close to Twilight's face. To Rainbow Dash it looks like a kiss on the cheek. A kiss of death.

“You idiot,” seethes Rainbow Dash with a stomp of her hoof.

“What did I to?” whines Thunderlane.

Rainbow Dash cringes. “Not you, just me. Yep, I'm an idiot. Let's go grab some seats before I blow a vessel.”

“Oh, well what kind of seat do you want?” asks Thunderlane.

“I hate magicians, so the farther the better.”

“Uh, inside the atrium or-”

“Yeah yeah, I'll meet you at the seat, okay?”

Thunderlane watches Rainbow Dash with a confused stare as she trots away from him. She is still keeping an eye on Fuller and Twilight, though, while sneaking through the crowd. Fuller and Twilight appear to be oblivious to her presence, and when Flim and Flam show up, Fuller excuses himself. Twilight talks to those two, probably about business, and Fuller walks into a hallway with dim lighting. He steps aside and nods politely as the snobbiest couple in Equestria, Jet Set and Upper Crust, walk past him. They barely acknowledge him and keep their noses in the air when they walk to a table Pipsqueak cleaning. They sit down and Upper Crust taps her hoof on the table.

“Servant, get us two fruity sarsaparillas with the little umbrellas,” orders Upper Crust.

“I want my umbrella to be red and my drink to be pink,” adds Jet Set.

Rainbow Dash and Fuller watch the scene unfold. As the conversation carries on, with Pipsqueak trying to explain that he is only supposed to be cleaning the tables and the snobs not understanding it, Rainbow Dash notices Fuller's calm expression quickly shifting to anger. When he approaches the two, Rainbow Dash ducks for cover.

Fuller stands next to Pipsqueak, and he and the couple exchange a few heated words. However, when he levitates his badge all the color drains from their face and he dismisses Pipsqueak. The little stallion nearly gallops away and Fuller leans closer to the table.

“Ponies like you make me sick,” he says, his tone bleeding anger. “If I see or hear of you doing something like this again I will find a reason to arrest you.” He straightens himself out and smiles maliciously. “Enjoy your night.”

He walks away, leaving the two still and white as marble, and when he goes into the hallway Rainbow Dash uses her famed speed to fly next to the door. She peeks in and sees that it is just a simple hallway with a variety of advertisements about Monte's, Hank's, and Trixie's shows. The hallway is dim and the only light is from the bulbs illuminating the posters and the glowing numbers on the elevator. But there is no Fuller. Not even the elevator appears to be moving. It is all bare!

Rainbow Dash mutters incoherently as she paces in circles in the hallway, trying to figure out where Fuller went. Then she pauses when she smells something burning. She sniffs a few more times before she spots some barely seen thin smoke rising from a ring of simmering carpet. She looks around before she leans down to have a better look at it. The charred ring is thick, like when Twilight tried teaching Rarity how to teleport at Sweet Apple Acres. Rarity left thick rings like the one on the floor at Applejack's barn, which ticked off the farmer since she just had fresh wood installed and painted the day before.

Rainbow Dash groans and lays on the floor with her hooves over her head. “Great, now he's a teleporter.”

A few minutes later, Rainbow Dash walks into the atrium, trying to find Thunderlane. She finds Flim and Falm at one of the front row seats and Filthy Rich talking to Spitfire. He is barely able to sit in his seat since he is swaying so much, and Spitfire looks like she is desperate to leave, but doesn't want to leave the stallion alone out of pity. Within seconds, the lonely stallion is crying into Spitfire's shoulder and she looks around nervously for a couple seconds before she very hesitantly pats him on the shoulder.

Looking away from the scene, Rainbow Dash spots Thunderlane in the back turning a table light on and off. She squints her eyes to get a better look, but in doing so she realizes that he is not signaling her, he's just fascinated by it for some reason. Then a waitress walks up to the table, looking slightly annoyed, and Thunderlane gets an embarrassed blush. Rainbow Dash is about to go to the table to save Thunderlane from himself when Soarin steps in front of her, blocking her view of him.

“I thought you said you would be with Thunderlane all night,” he says with a smile.

“I am with him,” says Rainbow Dash as she tries to peek past the larger stallion. “He's actually over there so can you get out of the way.”

Soarin looks over his shoulder and sees Thunderlane scrunching his brow as he skims through a menu while the waitress is fighting a losing battle to keep herself calm. The charcoal pegasus raises his hoof and opens his mouth and the waitress eagerly levitates a pen and notepad, then he frowns and shakes his head as his hoof drops. The waitress's eye twitches.

“You picked a winner,” says Soarin in a harsh, teasing tone.

“Those are the only ones I like,” retorts Rainbow Dash.

Soarin frowns and looks back at Rainbow Dash. She smiles smugly, but the smile disappears when he puts his hoof on her shoulder and turns her away so he can lead her out of the atrium. They go outside to the bar areas and leads her to a far corner where they are out of ear shot of most.

“Look, you're probably still upset about how I acted earlier. It was childish, I know, and I want to apologize for it.”

“Apology accepted, can I go now?”

“Why not bring Thunderlane over to my table? I know Twilight is your friend, Spitfire likes you, and Fuller thinks that you are-”

“No.”

Soarin frowns and Rainbow Dash returns it in kind.

“Why not?” asks Soarin. “Do you know how many would want to be invited to a table of higher ups like me and my company?”

“Because Fuller creeps me out and Twilight is pissing me off,” remarks Rainbow Dash.

“That would be more reason to go over there to sort things out don't you think. I know my company will listen if-”

“They are not your company!” yells Rainbow Dash with an angry stomp. “They are only pretending to be your friends because of your position! If you weren't Captain of the Guard they would ignore you!”

Soarin sighs heavily and runs his hoof through his mane, then he looks at Rainbow Dash with angrily,

“Just because you're going nowhere in life it doesn't mean you have to take your anger out on somepony who is actually succeeding. You should try applying yourself, maybe then you can actually keep your friends and make something of yourself.”

Rainbow Dash's jaw drops and Soarin keeps his stone hard expression. She can't believe that he dealt a low blow like that!

“You're being an ass,” says Rainbow Dash hurtfully.

“That is no way to talk to your superior, Airmare,” sneers Soarin.

“News flash, I'm off duty!”

“There is no such thing as 'off duty' in the Royal Guard!”

Rainbow Dash snorts and stomps off with a huff and a tail whip to Soarin's face. She hears him growl, which fuels the speed of her pace, and when she rounds the corner she ducks into the mare's bathroom. The door bangs against the wall as she storms in and when it slams shut she places her forehooves on the marble counter and releases a heavy sigh that leaves her sick, like she released too much air. She swallows and looks up at her reflection. Red is already snaking into her wet eyes, and her nostrils are flaring with every labored breath she takes.

Rainbow Dash splashes her face with the tap water, and wipes off the extra water with her hoof. To her, her eyes seem more red than before and her tears slide down like blood from an open wound. Rainbow Dash puts her hoof over her mouth and sighs heavily as she watches herself cry, and she continues watching until her saddened face devolves into a self-loathing frown. She takes a deep, hate filled breath, and slowly blows it out through her nose, then she turns the water on to full blast for both knobs and splashes her face. She keeps on splashing her face rabidly. It seems that no matter how hard she splashes herself with the lukewarm water she just can't wash her tears away. They are stuck to her and her eyes are stained with red, corrupting their beautiful cerise color. She only stops when her uniform is soaked and her head and the counter are dripping wet.

“I'm not crying. Nope, not crying,” mumbles Rainbow Dash, her quivering hooves pressing harder against the counter top. “It's not cool to cry. Nope, not cool... Not cool at all.”

Her eyes lower to the water pouring out from the faucet, watching it all threaten to overflow the sink despite the drain being there. She releases a heavy sigh and slams the water off, staring blankly as the water gurgles down the sink. Once it is all gone, she takes another deep breath, wipes her eyes with a sniff and practices a cocky smile in the mirror.

“Me? Crying? Nah, I just got soap in my eyes when I was washing my face.” Her smile twists into an aggravated frown and she points at herself as her feathers ruffle. “I'm allowed to cry if I got soap in my eyes!”

She glares at her reflection challengingly for a few more seconds before she walks outside, face and vibrant mane drenched in high quality tap water, and is about to go to Thunderlane when-

“You've been watching me.”

The sudden, terrifyingly calculated voice nearly makes Rainbow Dash jump out of her hide as she gasps and spins around, feathers ruffled and eyes wide. Fuller is standing next to a framed vintage poster of the Great and Powerful Trixie, his features mostly hidden in the dim light.

“Where you waiting for me the whole time I was in there!?” exclaims Rainbow Dash.

Fuller nods. “But it is not for any thoughts of perversion, I assure you, it is more that we come to terms about our stances while we're alone.”

Rainbow Dash snorts and is about to point out the obvious, but Fuller steps closer and Rainbow Dash steps back, trying to keep her brave glare. But as he keeps stepping closer, his expression becoming grimmer with the changing light, and she continues stepping back until her rump pushes the bathroom door open. Then they keep going.

Rainbow Dash is glad that she soaked her head because she can feel herself sweat, despite her telling herself to stay calm. When they are backed to a corner by the sinks, he still walks until he is practically on top off of her. She can smell the mouthwash in his breath and the shampoo he uses, which does, in fact, make him smell like fresh rain, but it doesn't help her nerves any. She eyes him dangerously and tries to give him the fierce pegasus look, but it appears to have no effect on him. Her heart skips a beat when his horn glows and the door lock clicks with a flicker of magic.

“Nopony can interrupt us now,” says Fuller. His voice is low and his eyes make Rainbow Dash feel violated as they glide up to meet hers. “But I am not going to keep you long. Why do you not trust me?”

Rainbow Dash wants to tell him that she doesn't trust him because he pointed a gun at her and now has her cornered in a bathroom, but she settles with: “Why should I?”

“You should because you and I believe in something far greater than ourselves.”

“What the heck are you talking about?”

“I am talking about what the Elements have striven for since their inception. A world without hunger or fear; poverty or class; a utopia ruled by the ideals of Perfect Harmony.”

“We had a utopia before you ruined it,” counters Rainbow Dash.

“Just as I had ruined Blueblood's life?”

Rainbow Dash is silent, fearing what might happen if she gives a response, and she flinches slightly when his horn glows and she feels a slight tug on her uniform. She reluctantly takes her eyes off of the stallion to see him using his magic to fix her unkempt uniform.

“I know what you accuse me of. It is farfetched and you know it,” says Fuller as he works on her uniform. “If you are not careful with such accusations there could be grave consequences for you or your friends.”

He gives one last hard tug on her collar and she gulps quietly when he snaps her buttons all the way up to her neck, making her feel choked. Her heart races, and she feels her glare giving in to fear and her steadfast legs tremble as the stallion finishes his delicate touch ups.

“I commemorate you for your loyalty to this nation, but it is far better to be loyal to an idea rather than a state. States die. Ideas don’t.” Fuller leans closer so that his snout is practically rubbing against Rainbow Dash's, and as much as she wants to scrunch back, all she can do is wrinkle her nose. Fuller continues his staring and she tenses up when his horn glows. “Think about it.”

The door unlocks and Fuller coolly heads towards the exit, but stops when Rainbow Dash calls him. She waits until he turns around before she expands her wings and ruffles her to their fullest potential and she points at him with a threatening snarl.

“If you do this to me again, I will end you,” snarls Rainbow Dash.

Fuller smirks. “We'll see.”

Then he leaves the bathroom, and when the bathroom door shuts, relief washes over Rainbow Dash and her legs give out as her wings and ears go limp. She slumps to the tiled floor and weeps quietly in her shaking hooves.

Monte stares at Octavia's gravestone. It is black marble with silver lettering etched into it in beautiful calligraphy. The stone has a portrait of Octavia in a circle with a the frame acting as golden vines surrounding it and snaking out. The actual portrait is of her smiling with her cello hugged close to her with her hair rolling off of her shoulder.

Monte notices that there are a bundle of fresh flowers in a vase built into the marker and a picture of her and Pinkie Pie, both as fillies and dirty from a hard day's work. He stares at the picture, noting how it has a simple note taped to it.

He swears whoever wrote the note had been crying, too, since the ink is bleeding from blotches. Monte sniffles and wipes his nose, then he looks over his shoulder to see the EIB and his guards doing a pat down on a stallion so old he looks like he can barely walk. The size of gray beard beard and large hat should have been enough for the old stallion to fall over and the suit he is wearing dark with a white band across his neck. Monte swallows and looks back at Octavia's picture. He takes a deep breath and puts his hoof on the stone.

“Yeah, I'm sorry, too,” murmurs Monte. “I would say something dramatic, but I already feel weird doing this. I just hope that you accept my my apology and, uh... and I guess that's it.”

“How do you know Octavia?” asks a shaky, old voice.

Without turning, since he knows who it is, Monte answers: “I knew Octavia for a while. I met her when she performed at the Gala for the first time.”

Mr. Pie walks up to Monte's side and looks at Octavia's picture. The old stallion swallows and being in the presence of the monument seems to burden him with pain, but he has cried too much to have any tears left.

“Was she nervous?” asks Mr. Pie.

Monte's lips flicker to a smile. “Very. She was amazing, though, and after the show I showed her the sites and helped her settle.”

“That was nice of you. There should be more kind stallions like you in this world.”

Monte shakes his head and looks down. “Probably not a good idea. I was never a good guy.”

“But you helped Octavia adjust to the city life,” says Mr. Pie, his voice cracking and sighs as his joints ache from sitting down. He puts his hoof on Octavia's picture and lets it glide down, like he is trying to stroke her cheek one last time. “You were with her when I could not be.”

“You're her father, aren't you?” asks Monte, just for the sake of confirming what he already knew. Mr. Pie nods and Monte puts his hoof on his shoulder. “I'm sorry for your loss. She talked about you a lot.”

Mr. Pie's wrinkled ears perk as much as they can. “Really? What did she say?”

“Uh, you were nice and helpful with a heart of gold?” offers Monte.

Mr. Pie snorts. “That was not me. If anything I was a crab who taught them self-reliance and had a heart of stone.” Monte looks down shamefully and Mr. Pie smiles sadly. “The notion was nice, though.”

Monte nods and Mr. Pie stands up, groaning and quietly complaining about his “old bones”. When he is fully upright he takes a deep breath and looks at Monte. Monte looks away from Octavia's father as if worried that his eyes will reveal every one of his past sins. Mr. Pie searches Monte's face until the magician pulls off his hat to hide his face.

“A lot has happened to you recently, hasn't it?” asks Mr. Pie.

“You could say that, but you're staring is also making me uncomfortable,” replies Monte.

Mr. Pie apologizes and looks back at the tombstone, smiling when he sees the note. Monte hears the older stallion mutter something that he can't quite understand, but figures it has something to do with the note.

“I'm proud of all my daughters. I just wish I could've seen them all together one last time, together as a family.” He swallows and puts his hoof over his mouth and steps away whimpering with his eyes shining in the dipping sun he says, his voice loud and quivering. “No parent should have to bury their child!”

Monte puts his hoof around Mr. Pie's shoulder and gently helps him up. The stallion's old legs wobble underneath him as he weeps into his hoof. Monte looks over at his guards and the EIB agents and motions them over. The EIB agents walk over immediately while his guards are a bit hesitant. They gently separate Mr. Pie from Monte and lead him to one of their vehicles, leaving Monte alone.

“At-at least my Octavia is in a better place now,” sniffles Mr. Pie. “And we will be able to see each other again in time.”

Monte's ears droop and he looks at Octavia's smiling face. He drops to his haunches when the crushing weight of dread and guilt fall on him like a boulder. He gasps for air to break a wet lump in his throat when tears roll from his eyes and down his cheeks. His hoof touches her portrait and he closes his eyes and bows his head. He knows that he sealed her fate for a quick bit, and there is no way he can apologize for it. Nor is there anyway he could apologize for all the others he sold out to Gilda and her criminal entourage.

He sniffles and opens his eyes, dropping his hoof to show Octavia's bright smile to the world again. His wet red eyes drift up to meet her eyes and he swallows as much as he can, but the tears still keep coming.

“I'm sorry.”

Pinkie Pie takes a deep breath and lifts her head from the sink to look at her reflection. She stares at the light tan dye covering her pink coat, the freckles dotting her cheeks, and the red mane now replacing her darker pink. Her trembling hooves clench the sides of the sink, and she blinks sweat out of her eyes while swallowing her spit. She wants to puke.

“Pinkie, it was just one guy,” says Spike reassuringly. “Besides, you and Joe got along great every time you two hung out.”

“Actually, it was ten guys. And one of them was actually a mare,” counters Pinkie Pie uneasily.

Pinkie Pie slides away from the mirror, still shaking and sweating bullets, and she has to gather the courage to push open the door. Once she gets it, after retreating approaching the door a dozen times, she steps into the place she is loving and dreading at the same time. The fat, bright bulbs shine down on the polished tile, making it seem as bright as daylight, even though night is falling outside. Pinkie Pie stares at the polished windows, seeing her faint reflection over the brick buildings outside, and her ear twitches when a bell dings loud enough to shake the windows.

“ATTENTION, CURFEW WILL COME IN EFFECT IN ONE HOUR AND THIRTY MINUTES!” blares a stern mare over the newly installed intercoms. “PLEASE BE AT YOUR RESIDENCE WITHIN ALLOTTED TIME FRAME OR HAVE YOUR EXEMPT CARD IN YOUR POSSESSION!”

Pinkie Pie gulps and self-consciously trots towards a brightly colored counter. Its red surface looks like it had just been waxed, and when she sits on the equally red cushion on the stool, it releases a gust of air that sounds like a polite, stench free fart. Pinkie Pie's ears droop and she looks around nervously when she hears some foals snicker. Their parents quietly scold their foals, who are quick to look down and poke at their treats sadly.

“You dated a mare?” asks Spike with piqued interest that Pinkie Pie can't help but think is hormonal based.

“I didn't know she was a mare!” says Pinkie Pie defensively. “She had a Big Mac voice and a Lucky body!”

“Are you sure you didn't know?”

“Spike, my barn door doesn't swing that way. Ever.”

Pinkie Pie grabs a menu and flips through it, pretending to study each of the dishes carefully. She finds the usual. Donuts, bagels, long-johns, cookies and a dozen other pastries, cakes and pies, each with their own section of the menu. Then there are the drinks, ranging from soda to floats, juices to milks, and milkshakes to smoothies. Like the others, each has its own little section. There are so many choices that Pinkie Pie is kicking herself for coming in so late. There are nearly limitless possibilities of what to order.

Pinkie Pie looks over her shoulder when she hears the small family exit the shop, leaving behind a small pile of bits. A lanky stallion with a permanent drooped eyes and smile trots out to collect. She recognizes him to be Snails, one of the “Trixie Fanatics” as Twilight had called the group of die hard fans, and judging by the pin of her cutie mark he has on his uniform, he has yet to get over his adoration for the former magician.

“Snails, go home, I'll close up,” says Donut Joe as he steps out of the kitchen, his work outfit covered in sweat and powdered ingredients.

Snails drops the bits in the basket. “Okay, Mr. Joe. See ya, tomorrow.”

Pinkie Pie watches Snails leave with a skip in his steps, then she looks back at her menu, pretending to have trouble deciding what she wants to get. She hears Joe approach her, but doesn't look at him. She's too nervous say anything anyway.

“Okay, so it was just nine guys and a mare with too much testosterone. Still, you gotta try, right? Just think of it as you trying to make another friend. You're good at that.”

“You ready to order?” asks Joe.

Pinkie Pie can tell he is tired and wants to go home, and she once again kicks herself for coming in so late. Not wanting to hold him back anymore she lowers the menu and offers a sheepish smile.

“Um, can I have the donut plate with all the donuts chocolate and covered in rainbow sprinkles, please?”

“Sure thing, but you'll have to eat fast. We close in thirty minutes and I wouldn't want you to get in trouble for being out past curfew.”

Pinkie Pie offers a meek smile. “What if you put them in a to-go box?”

Donut Joe returns the smile. “Yeah, I guess I could do that.”

While he is collecting the donuts, Pinkie Pie's eyes dart around the room madly. She looks at the counter, the pastries, her drumming hooves, and the light bulb. The bright light burns her eyes instantly and she looks away and slaps herself for doing something so stupid. Literally.

Now her cheek stings and she has colorful blobs gliding over her line of sight, pulsating in and out of view. While tenderly rubbing her cheek and moaning an “Ow”, she realizes that Joe is staring at her. The red blob in front of his face moves out of the way to reveal a confused expression, like he isn't sure if he should be amused or if he should be worried that a patron is slapping herself.

“It was a bug,” claims Pinkie Pie. “A big, hairy bug hanging on my cheek.”

They continue to stare at each other, and she chuckles nervously as her whole body deflates. Mane, tail, muscles, all seem devoid of everything to her now, leaving embarrassment in their remains.

“Right,” says Joe in a long, sarcastic drawl while placing the last of the donuts in her to-go bag. “That'll be five bits.”

Pinkie Pie nods and spills way more than five on the table. She quickly apologizes and her hooves scramble in speedy blurs over the counter to scoop all but five of them back into her bag. The five she left out she had somehow managed to stack up as a small tower, standing perfectly on top of each other and directly in front of Joe like they are a gift to him.

Joe's jaw drops and Pinkie Pie ties her bag shut using a combination of trembling hoof-work and crazy tongue acrobatics. When she has her bag tied her hoof reaches for the bag of donuts.

“But every time I try to do anything to get anypony I completely blow it and when I don't blow it I get a jerk! I'm a jerk magnet!” claims Pinkie Pie.

“I really don't have anything to say about that,” says Spike. “But go with your Pinkie Sense. Out of all the times you hung out with him, has he ever been rude to you?”

Pinkie Pie's hoof freezes and she stares at the happy donut on the bag, swallowing a massive nervous lump clogging her throat. Her eyes lift up to look at Joe. His focus is on placing the treats in a storage container.

“No,” sighs Pinkie Pie.

“Has he ever done anything rude to anypony for any reason?”

“He took samples of some of those deliciously good cakes when we were on our way to that bakery contest in Canterlot."

“Okay, you got me there, but I'm pretty sure he apologized for that.”

“But-”

“Dang it, Pinkie, I'm haunting you for a reason! Now get out there and ask Joe out or else I'll do some spooky ghostie stuff to you!”

“Do you want to hang out some time!” blurts Pinkie Pie, making Joe freeze and her pupils shrink to dots. Joe stares at her, completely perplexed and unsure how to respond and Pinkie Pie is as stiff as a frozen corpse. She shivers as her ice cold, bullet sized sweat drops slide down her neck and face, and she feels her mane and tail deflating again. Joe continues staring, and she's certain he blinked this time. She swallows her spit with an audible gulp and her whole body tries to melt into the ground as her ears try to droop off of her head. “I-I mean if that's okay with you because you might be super busy running a big business and paying ponies and feeding ponies and cleaning your floors with shiny stuff that makes floors shine like how I used to try to make my floor shine until I found out the soap was actually eating my floor then I stopped using it because anything that eats floors is bad like expired milk or crunchy donuts in a smoothy.”

Joe blinks again. “Did you even breathe?”

Pinkie Pie takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “No... No, I don't think I did. It's been a while since I did something like that. But I think I'll just go now.”

Pinkie Pie stuffs the bag of treats in her saddle bag and practically gallops out of the Shop, but once she reaches the exit and has her hoof pressed against the door she hears “Yes”. She freezes and looks over her shoulder, completely floored by the answer Joe gave her. Most of her is believing that her mind is playing tricks on her, like one of her steps made a “Yes” or something similar, but Joe is standing there with an amused smile.

“We're closed on Sundays, so we can meet here on Sunday at noon or I could pick you up,” he says.

“No!” squeaks Pinkie Pie, making Joe raise a brow. “I-I mean, yes to you agreeing because that is awesome but no to you picking me up. I-I'll meet you here at noon on Sunday and maybe I won't scare you away or do something stupid or do something scary stupid that will um GOOD NIGHT!”

Then she zips out the door, slamming it shut behind her and gallops down the road, sliding to a halt in an alley. Her heart is racing and her body is drenched in sweat. Panting and trembling, she slouches to the ground on her haunches covers her head with her hooves. She feels like she's going to puke again. She hears soft wings flap towards her, followed by equally soft steps that approach her when they land, but she doesn't look up, she knows who it is.

“Did you do it?” asks Fluttershy curiously. Pinkie Pie nods and Fluttershy gasps and hugs Laughter. “Oh, that is wonderful! I told you he would do it.”

“I think he did it because he thought I was a desperate mare,” grumbles Pinkie Pie, barely returning the hug. “I feel sick.”

“Oh don't worry, that's just butterflies in your stomach. It happened to me when I knocked on Iron Will's door. Let's get you home.”

Fluttershy helps Pinkie Pie stand up and they walk down the quiet street together.

As the two walk down the road, Pinkie Pie glances at Fluttershy and finds it remarkable how the timid pegasus was able to do her own disguise without much help. Her large mane and tail have been trimmed and her mane tied into a ponytail, and both dyed blonde with white streaks, and her coat is now brown and white and her cutie marks are animal paws. All which seem to go striking well with her fake glasses and vest. They pass a couple of Night Guards patrolling the street and they both turn their heads to look at the passing mares. However, Pinkie Pie is thinking that they were looking more at Fluttershy since she is carrying herself very well whereas she looks like she is trying to crawl into the dirt. It's like their roles have been switched. Laughter the timid one and Kindness the extrovert.

“So, what's your fake name?” asks Pinkie Pie when they are out of ear shot of the guards.

“Oh, um I decided to go with 'South Paw,' and my father is a buffalo and my mother is a pegasus. When I told the vet of my origins they hired me on the spot, but I feel bad because they had a whole stack of applications that surely had more qualified ponies than me in it.”

Pinkie Pie stares at Fluttershy. The Fluttershy had not only lied on an application, but claimed false heritage to get a job as a vet. What did Iron Will do to her?

Fluttershy notices Pinkie Pie's conflicted expression and she looks down shamefully, stopping when they are by a light-rail station where a stallion was laying on a bench with newspapers covering him.

“I know it was wrong, but...” she finishes with a sigh, not really sure how to properly justify her actions.

Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy both turn to look at a bright orb of light drawing near to them with a trail of sparks in its wake. When it pulls up to them, it turns out to be a sleek trolly that once had a bright painting on it of the sun overlooking the mountains with the proud symbol of the Solar Empire. Now it is barely seen over the gang graffiti tattooing it, and the Imperial symbol had been poorly covered by a crescent moon with wings. Though it looks as though that whoever painted it used way too much since it dried with trails of its dark colors bleeding down.

The driver, a mare earth pony who looks way too tired to be working a trolly, opens the door with a loud yawn.

“Let's just get back. I would feel terrible if we kept Will waiting,” says Fluttershy quietly as she hops on, quickly paying her fare and grabbing a window seat.

Pinkie Pie copies Fluttershy, and after paying her fare she takes a seat next to her and looks out the window. The trolly is idle for a few minutes before it lurches forward. Its wheels screech against the metal tracks and sparks dance from its wires as it speed down the track quicker than the average pony could ever hope to run or fly. As the dark city zooms by them, Pinkie Pie's eyes stay glued to the iconic Royal Palace, which is still brightly lit like night is forbidden from entering its grounds. Then another illuminated building comes into view as the pass the Palace. The Celestial Spire, which is nearing its completion.

A knot forms in Pinkie Pie's stomach and she leans forward, panting with her hoof pressed against her gut. Fluttershy asks her something she can't quite understand, but nods anyway since she thinks it is along the lines of “Are you okay?”, and her eyes drift up to an advertisement when she feels a hoof on her back. The advertisement looks like an oil painting of the Celestial Spire, completed with rays of sunshine bursting out from behind it, lush mountains and farmland, and cheerful ponies of all classes surrounding it. Underneath it in bold, bright letters, it says:

Pinkie Pie looks down at the floor, trying to breathe the nausea away with heavy pants and hooves over her head. It seems that no matter what she does, the sickness gets worse until her world is spinning and her bones feel like wet noodles. She gags and falls over when the trolly passes the Celestial Spire. Her heart beats loudly over Fluttershy's panicked voice, and she barely feels herself getting hugged. When Fluttershy pulls her in to have a look, Pinkie Pie's droopy eyes see nothing but haze fading in and out, that is until she looks back at the poster. It is clear as perfect vision, and smoking green mist and seemingly screaming the voices of thousands of terrified and injured ponies. Pinkie Pie's hoof reaches for the poster when she hears foals crying and an all too familiar voice overtaking it all.

“Just let the pretty city burn,” says Pinkamena sternly. “You'll die if you try to stop them!”

Pinkie Pie closes her eyes and presses her folded ears against her skull, whimpering over the horrifying screams as a torrent of tears flood her cheeks. Then it all ends.

Confused about the sudden disappearance of her sickness and reemergence of the strangely soothing sparks and bumps of the trolly, Pinkie Pie slowly opens her eyes and peers out the window just in time to see the Celestial Spire shrinking in the distance. She is still trembling and Fluttershy is still holding her and sniffling. Pinkie Pie swallows and puts her hoof on Fluttershy's shoulder.

“I'm okay,” says Pinkie Pie softly as her hooves rub Fluttershy gently.

“No you're not,” sniffles Fluttershy. She holds Pinkie Pie at hoof length and stares at her, lips trembling and tears trickling down her cheeks. “You haven't been okay ever since Spike died.”

Pinkie Pie looks down, nodding in reluctant agreement. Fluttershy's words are true, and she knows that no one has been okay ever since the League of Justice attacked Ponyville, and now she knows what their next target will be.

The stormy clouds part ways to let beams of warm sunlight into Eclipse's loft. The smell and humidity of fresh rain still lingers and a gentle breeze blows the pleasant scent into the loft through the gaping hole in the patio doors. Sweeping up the shards of glass and wood is a broom covered in aura, with a mop also shrouded and cleaning the blood streak.

The broom sweeps the debris in little piles and the mop, now bloody, is dipped in a bucket full of soapy water. Trixie sighs and sits down to wipe her brow and to marvel at her work. The floor is cleaned of blood and the debris is piled up, ready to be scooped away. Now all that is left is to fix the holes in the walls, replace the destroyed counter, front door and patio door, fix the patio railing and clean off the wine stain on the kitchen wall.

“You're cleaning up well,” says Custos as he steps into the loft.

“Am I supposed to say something cheesy?” asks Trixie wearily as her horn picks up a garbage pail and a dustpan.

Custos silently picks up the broken photo of the Lulamoon family. Trixie eyes him suspiciously out of the corner of her eye when he places it on a shelf next to Braile's music collection. When Custos looks at her, she turns away from him with a deep frown and sweeps up and pours some of the broken glass in the garbage pail.

“Is something troubling you?” asks Custos.

Trixie glares at Custos. “Why didn't you tell me you talked to my father before he died?”

“I didn't think I had to. I told you that your father loved you and I showed you his final memory. Shouldn't that have been enough to tell you that I spoke with him?”

Trixie sighs heavily and nods her head as she goes to the couch. “I guess so. But why did you talk to him in the first place? Were you trying to make him a hero or something?”

Custos shakes his head. “No, I was sent to him because he asked for guidance and for you to be protected.”

“From who? Roar Shock? Sunshine? All the disgruntled fans?”

“From yourself.”

Trixie looks at Custos questionably while the featureless stallion walks up to her.

“He was afraid that you would become him,” continues Custos. “He didn't want you to become somepony who used fear to get what they wanted. He wanted you to value what you had and to regain the honor of the Lulamoon family. But despite your shortcomings, you already held more honor than he realized.”

Trixie snorts. “How? If I do recall, I was a boastful, arrogant showmare who had a chronic case of liarliar syndrome.”

Trixie releases a sad sigh as she sits on the couch and bows her head. She uses her magic to push the garbage pail out of her line of sight and sighs again. She remembers every harsh word from the day of her fall. She was called everything cruel under the sun from phony to whorse. And Sunshine had been right, those words had made her feel worthless, and Sunshine's method of making her feel valuable only made things worse.

Custos sits down in front of her and gently lifts her head so she can look at him. She really wishes he had a face, though she can feel a soft vibe from him. Maybe it was the way he lifted her head, almost like a parent trying to encourage their defeated child.

“You were never afraid to help others even before you took this path. That is an honorable trait,” says Custos softly.

“Which Trixie are you talking about? Because the Trixie I knew only cared about herself.”

“You were troubled, yes, but you stood your ground for you and others at the face of trouble, from simple ponies all the way to the supernatural.”

Trixie rolls her eyes. “Right, because the Great and Powerful Trixie was a demon hunter as well as a performer. Thanks, Custos, you sure know how to make a mare fantasize.”

Custos's horn lights up and the event of the Ursa Minor attacking Ponyville plays in an orb in front of Trixie. She scowls and looks away from the scene. It was because of that incident that she was ruined and it was because of that that she realized how powerful and sneaky her rival really was. When it goes to her standing in front of the massive beast, Trixie sees how much her legs trembled and how much she sweated. She can even imagine the scent of the creature's horrible breath and feel the slobber when its spit flew out of its roaring mouth. Trixie remembers how she was terrified that the thing might rip her apart and finds it a miracle that she didn't faint from all that was going on.

“When the Ursa Minor attacked Ponyville you stayed your ground, even though you thought it to be an Ursa Major,” says Custos with a hint of pride. “Not even the present Elements -the mortal guardians of this world- dared to confront it, but you did. Against all odds and something far superior to you, you still fought it with everything you had.”

Trixie waves her hoof through the hazy bubble and it, along with the imagery, disappears in a dissipating fog. Custos doesn't seem to mind since he silently stands up and allows his horn to stop glowing.

“It was to preserve my image, the only thing I really had left, and that just made me realize how much I sucked,” grumbles Trixie.

“Are you sure you were trying to preserve your image, or were you protecting the town?”

“How about Choice C? Impress Twilight Sparkle,” snaps Trixie, her voice dripping venom at the mention of the Element of Magic. Her face twists to that of drunk pony stricken with rage as she presses her hoof against her barrel. “That is all I am after all, aren't I? Somepony who is always trying to impress somepony. Oh Trixie must impress her father and critics. Trixie has to prove that the mules at the Academy were wrong about her. Trixie needs to be better than Twilight because Trixie never had anything handed to her on a silver plate!”

Custos puts his hoof on her shoulder, his horn once again glowing. Trixie feels a comforting warmth radiate from his hoof and horn, and she looks up to see him surrounded by a golden mist that is also circling her. Trixie wants to step away, but all she does is gulp quietly since her legs refuse to work.

“You are a fighter and performer at heart, Trixie,” claims Custos confidently. “You see a challenge and you want everypony see you overcome it, but you know too well how that mentality can twist your mind and make it hard to tell friend from foe. And yet despite that, you were never shy to protect those that needed it or make things right. You were always a good mare, you just made some bad choices along the way.”

Trixie rolls her eyes. Those words are not making her feel any better, and she's still upset about how Custos was just a wee bit late in acting as her guardian, just as Fancy Pants was.

“But now you are recovering from and have a home in more ways than one. It is time to accept the friends you have and fully redeem the Lulamoon Family.”

His horn glows brighter than the sun, blinding Trixie and forcing her hoof to her eyes. Then, rather than hearing his usual “Time to wake up” and getting a soothing feeling ordeal, she feels a blunt impact on her cheek.

Trixie jolts awake with a fresh red mark on her throbbing cheek and a large splatter of drool on the windshield of Fancy Pants' wagon. As the wagon pulls to a stop, she blinks and looks around to see that she is in a bare and skinny road on the side of a mountain shrouded in mist. She can barely see the the shadowy outline of the trees painted on the foggy canvas. She turns to ask Fancy Pants where they are, but when she sees his eyes red with a slight twitch and his jaw ridiculously tight, her ears droop and she shrinks down in her seat.

“Was I snoring?” asks Trixie meekly.

“And drooling. A lot,” says Fancy Pants in a strained tone as he levitates a cue-tip to clean his ears. “How can anypony sleep around you?”

“Ask Monte,” grumbles Trixie as she tenderly rubs her cheek.

Fancy Pants snaps to her, eyes and mouth wide open. “What!”

“I said 'Ask Pinkie',” blurts Trixie, eyes shifting side to side nervously. “So, why are we here? And when will the whole gang be getting back together?”

Fancy Pants sighs heavily, mumbling about her being an “out of control child” as he hops out of the motorized wagon. Trxie puts on her saddle and trots after him in the thick fog, her ears swiveling and eyes darting to every noise in the forest. From gravel crunching under their hooves, to owls calling out in the wild and flapping wings, nothing is off limits for her radar.

Trixie is barely able to keep up with Fancy Pants, her body is still sore from all her strongly ill-advised extracurricular activities fighting terrorists and guards, so all she can really do is half-walk, half-limp. She has a few good steps, then she stumbles or has to sit for a moment to let her bones and muscles relax enough so it doesn't feel like they are snapping or tearing.

As Trixie follows Fancy Pants, she cautiously pulls out a container of pills and pops a couple in her mouth followed by a quick gulp of water to wash it down. In no time her body's painful protests fade away and she gets a new burst of energy that allows her to keep up her pace with him very well. During the walk, she can see Fancy Pants nervously looking around, like he is worried some assassins have trailed him. Which doesn't seem to farfetched for Trixie after all that she has been through in the past few months.

Fancy Pants silently leads her to a stone door up the steep hill. At first it looks like a slab of stone pressed into the mountain. Trixie barely saw it when they walked up since the whole area is gray and covered in stone, however Fancy Pants smiles and mutters something as he approaches the entrance. Trixie notices that the supposed cracks on the door are all very well coordinated, like someone had taken a fine chisel and carefully etched the damage in.

Fancy Pants puts his hoof on a circular marking and he closes his eyes and his horn glows, Magic slithers from his horn, down his neck and up to the edge of his hoof where it stops on the marking. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes.

“Melon moon knows no doom,” recites Fancy Pants dramatically.

There is a burst of golden magic and lines of the same color slither around along the cracks to form a full moon with a six point star in the center and wings outstretched from the sides. The symbol of the Lulamoon Family.

The magic fades and the door groans and grinds against the floor, scratching the gravel below. Trixie and Fancy Pants step away until the door is fully opened, then Trixie looks at Fancy Pants with an amused smirk.

“'Melon moon knows no doom', huh?” teases Trixie.

“Your father's idea, not mine,” says Fancy Pants quickly.

“Right,” says Trixie sarcastically with a broad smile. “I don't think my father would want something like that as a pass-phrase. He'd want something cooler. Like, 'Death to all who dare'... um, 'throw a ball'?”

Fancy Pants looks at her with an arched brow and Trixie chuckles nervously as she rubs her neck. She looks away with a cough to hide an embarrassed blush coloring her azure coat.

“Well he did. He really liked those Mother Moose rhymes,” claims Fancy Pants as he calmly trots inside. “The door hasn't been opened, so it is perfectly safe.”

At first Trixie is hesitant to go inside, mostly because the door opened up to a tunnel of darkness, but another reason is that she still wonders if there is anybody waiting in the shadows, just waiting to pounce on her. EIB. Bernese. League of Justice. Her list doesn't seem to be getting any shorter. But after a deep breath, she follows Fancy Pants in when the stallion goes in without so much as a moment's pause.

Two sets of steps echo off the walls, and Trixie's ears swivel towards the slightest creak or brush of wind pushing leaves into the walkway. Her horn glows to illuminate her way and it turns out to be just as expected. The hallway is long and narrow with only a single door at the end, and hanging from the ceiling are simple tubes. Fancy Pants searches the area for a light switch, and when he finds it and flips it on, the tubes flicker on and shine down on the hallway like sunlight.

Trixie closes the door behind her with her magic and carefully follows Fancy Pants down the empty hallway, their steps seemingly louder than before. Once they reaches the end, Fancy Pants unlocks another door and they step into another dark room. Fancy Pants flicks on more lights and Trixie's jaw drops.

Directly in front of her is a grand staircase covered by a velvet carpet with railings made of marble and two statues of dragons on the bottom. They look like they are guarding it with the way their wings are expanded and jaws open, ready to cook any intruder alive. Trixie looks up at the ceiling and her eyes widen at the crystal chandelier hanging down. It looks like it is an upside down tree that has its roots spreading over the ceiling in a symmetrical pattern. She paces in circles, head still turned towards the ceiling, trying to trace the intricate patterns on the ceiling. Her eyes then go to the floor and she sees a series of colors and lines painted on the tile. She can't make it out, so she gallops to the second level and leans over the railing for a better look.

The Lulamoon Family Crest is in the middle of the floor.

Trixie whistles and steps away from the railing while Fancy Pants coolly trots up the stairs to meet her.

“Your inheritance, and his greatest gift to you,” says Fancy Pants, his voice echoing off of the decorated walls. “A home to call your own, and a place that you need to explore.”

Trixie nods with a great big smile and eagerly gallops away to explore more of the underground manor. She doesn't care about horrible chat that Fancy Pants has threatened her with, she is too excited about exploring a mysterious underground mansion that she didn't even know she had.

She scampers down one direction of the hallway, then zips down the other. She barely looks into the exquisite rooms built into the mountain, but all she needs is a snapshot moment to get an idea of how awesome they are. Each room is furnished with welcoming bedroom sets or decorated with the appropriate high class bathroom accessories. Not to mention that Eclipse's love for dragons has become blatantly obvious with all the miniatures and paintings of the massive creatures all along the walls. The statues and busts are placed on top of nightstands equally spaced apart and in between them is an oil painting of dragons in various poses and situations. Trixie particularly likes the one with two dragons cuddling in an open field with a pile of gold and jewelry snuggled between them.

During her exploration, she also finds a large room devoid of anything save for a few lights and a tunnel leading out. There is only one thing Trixie sees the room and tunnel good for, and that is a garage with a big driveway. Perfect for a bee or any vehicle to maneuver in.

She walks down the long tunnel, noting how the only light she is getting is from the garage, and the tip of the tunnel. The farther down she goes, the louder crashing water becomes, and once she reaches the end she finds that blocking the entrance to the tunnel is a fat waterfall. She stares at it, mesmerized by the innumerable gallons cascading down.

“I am so gonna have fun with this place,” says Trixie to herself.

Then she squeals like a filly and dances in her circles gleefully at all the ideas she has for her new secret home. It is perfect for her to carry out her duties while staying hidden from all those trying to ruin her life in the worst possible ways. After her dancing she gallops out of the underground garage, back into the main manor.

Trixie is once again zooming around the house, the noise of her steps bouncing off the walls like a giant, hyper mouse. She is so amazed by the endless halls and decor that she almost misses Fancy Pants leaning against the doorway of another large room with an amused smirk. Her hooves squeal against the floor as she slides to a stop, and she quickly changes course to see what's inside.

The room Fancy Pants is standing outside of is a dining room with an enormous, elongated table in the center covered by a foggy plastic sheet. The table can easily fit twenty ponies, and hanging above is a chandelier with a moon in the center and the bulbs surrounding it. Trixie's jaw drops at the beauty of the chandelier, but when she sees the murals and couches along the wall her breath is taken away. Literally. She has to suck in some air so she doesn't pass out from oxygen deprivation. The couches are covered with the same material as the table and the murals depict a sunny landscape that starts as a small town and moves on to orchards, then rolling hills and onto lush mountains and back to fields and towns. Whoever painted it paid great attention to detail and was probably set for life after finishing the project.

Trixie takes another deep breath and steps inside with Fancy Pants, speechless for nearly ten seconds before her brain comes up with the perfect words to share her feelings of the exquisite dining room.

“Look at this room,” gasps Trixie. “What a beautiful room!” Trixie races around the room, checking each of the picture with childlike enthusiasm. Trixie hops on and off one of the covered couches, giggling excitedly now. “Have you seen this room?”

“Yes, I'm in it,” says Fancy Pants calms as he walks towards the covered table. Once reaching the table he pulls off the foggy covering to reveal the polished wood and the tucked seats underneath. He smirks “Now this is a nice table. Perfect for hosting a party, don't you think?”

Trixie shakes her head. “Oh no. I'm keeping this house a secret. Nopony will be putting their muddy hoofprints all over this floor! I mean, look at the tile! This is tile worthy of Trixie's adoration!”

“Uh huh, so what about the 'gang'?” says Fancy Pants halfheartedly while studying the admittedly amazing tile.

Trixie stops and thinks for a moment. “They are on the exclusive list.”

“Trixie, are you relapsing?”

“No!” snaps Trixie defensively. “I just don't want anypony to come waltzing in here. This is all I have left of my family, and I'm wanted by Bernese, the League of Justice is trying to kill me, and I haven't written a letter to Celestia in weeks! This secret place stays secret!”

Fancy Pants and Trixie stare at each other for a moment, with Fancy Pants unsure how to respond to her outburst and Trixie waiting for his response.

“You were supposed to write letters to Celestia?” asks Fancy Pants finally.

Trixie nods. “Yeah, but she stole millions of bits from me, so I think not writing letters and keeping this secret place a secret is a fair tradeoff. Is there anyway I can get my money back?”

Fancy Pants shakes his head. “I don't think there is, and hiring lawyers will be too risky. The most we can do is for you to sit tight while I investigate personally.”

Trixie groans irritably and sits on one of the couches, not caring that she is sitting on the dusty plastic covering, and runs her hoof through her mane.

“Well, this sucks,” grumbles Trixie. “How am I supposed to do all the cool Mare-Do-Well stuff if I don't have any money?”

“That's easy. You don't.”

Trixie glares at Fancy Pants, and her guardian returns with a stern, unwavering look of his own. They stay like that for a couple of seconds before Trixie sighs loudly and drops her hoof.

“Are we seriously going to do this again?” asks Trixie, annoyance creeping in her tone.

“You have a home now and I said I will do what I can to get the rest of your inheritance,” replies Fancy Pants. “There is no reason for you to carry on like this, Trixie. Roar Shock has been captured and will soon face proper justice.”

“But-”

“No buts! Brisk Wind, Gilda and Lock are dead, and Roar Shock has been arrested! What more do you want?”

Trixie looks down. “I just want to matter again. When I was the Vigilante I was loved by everypony, and it felt good to be loved again. Even if nopony knew it was me.”

Fancy Pants sits down in front of Trixie, cups her head in his hooves and gently lifts her head up. She still keeps her eyes on the floor, though, until Fancy Pants gently calls her. She reluctantly lifts her eyes to look in his, realizing that his gray eye is worse than before.

He smiles warmly at her and gently says: “You do matter. You've always mattered to me and your father. You matter to Pinkie Pie and you matter even to Monte, despite him being an uncouth scoundrel.”

He hugs her tightly, nearly crushing the air out of her lungs and Trixie gags and flimsily tries to get him to let go, but it appears to be an awkward hug from Fancy Pants' point of view. She hears him sniffle and feels a wet drop on her shoulder.

“Your war's over, Trixie. It is time to put Mare-Do-Well away.” Fancy Pants holds her at arm's length and smiles at her with glistening, red eyes. “Promise me you'll stop this.”

Trixie's lips quiver and tears build up as looks at Fancy Pants. They don't say anything, but Trixie's heart feels like it is being crushed by the desperate look that Fancy Pants is giving her. When the tears start falling from her eyes Trixie wraps her hooves around him, whimpering and sniffling into his shoulder.

“I promise.”