[Lyra Heartstrings] “You aren't listening to me! Roar Shock is more dangerous than you think! He is a planner. He has contingency plans for his contingency plans. It doesn't matter if I am locked here or in Singsong, or if he is here or in Singsong. He has plans for everything. You can't stop a pony like him.”

[Translator Plätzchen] “Heartstrings, we understand that you're-”

[Lyra Heartstrings] “No, you don't understand! You think you can stop him? You can't! He is the kind of pony that gets what he wants when he wants it. He will find a way to get me. And even if you do capture him, he will already have a plan to get out. Even if it means killing everypony in his path.”

Rainbow Dash stands tall and proud in front of a large mirror, admiring how awesome she looks in the new combat suit she is encased in. The sleek armor is painted blue with gold lightning on the sides, her face is encased in a gas mask like helmet with air tanks attached to it via tubes to allow for high elevation flight, and even her wings are protected with armored sleeves that are light yet durable. Each suit has its own built in battle saddle, which she picked mini-Gatling guns for hers, and their tails are tucked inside a sleeve with a blade at the end. And to top it off, her flanks have the Wonderbolt seal, and on her chest is her cutie mark with “Dash” printed underneath. Rainbow Dash thinks of herself as a flying, metal scorpion-pegasus sent from Paradise to rid the world of evil, and it makes her smile. Finally, after all the strenuous tests and emotional Hell that she's been through for the past months, the Chrysaor suits will finally be put to a real test.

“Dash, you can stop admiring yourself anytime, now,” says Spitfire from behind.

Rainbow Dash looks over her shoulder to her Captain with an apologetic smile. Spitfire has her helmet off and is reading a report from the comfort of a plush cushion with her brow scrunched in concentration. Rainbow Dash can't help but think how that little scene paints Spitfire to be a badass super soldier from the future.

“Sorry, Captain, I just feel so awesome right now!” says Rainbow Dash excitedly, doing everything in her power to keep herself from prancing or flying around the room.

“Who doesn't?” asks another Wonderbolt, Fire Streak, playfully.

Rainbow Dash looks over her shoulder at another pegasus. He is flexing his legs and wings, and getting an all around general feel for the suit, just like the other Wonderbolts on their team, Misty, Fleetfoot, and Silver Lining. Unlike Rainbow Dash, who has preferred the lighter route, her partner has decided that a small cannon and a regular sized Gatling Gun are a perfect match for him.

“Isn't that a bit heavy for you?” teases Rainbow Dash, battling to keep her chortle in check.

“Nothing is ever too heavy for me,” boasts Fire Streak, then he turns to a blue coated, silver maned mare carefully cleaning her visor with a cloth. “Hey, Fleetfoot, remember when I won that bet about who would win that Hoofball game?”

Rainbow Dash can just picture the broad grin Fire Streak has growing on his face when Fleetfoot stops and lifts her eyes to him. Fire Streak pulls off his helmet to reveal his pale coat, his streaked orange mane, and that ridiculous smile that Rainbow Dash knew was there.

“You still have to pay up,” he says, his tone matching his mischievous grin.

Fleetfoot sighs, puts her helmet down and leans towards Fire Streak.

“Fire Streak,” she says with an amused smile, “I won't be paying anything until you live up to your end of the last bet.”

The two Wonderbolts' conversation take off in full swing, with Fire Streak on the defensive and Fleetfoot being the cool cucumber, and Rainbow Dash pulls off her helmet and clips it to the side of her suit before walking to her team leader. Once she is beside her, Spitfire acknowledges Rainbow Dash without looking up from her folder.

“Can I help you, Dash?” she asks coolly.

“What's the mission?” asks Rainbow Dash eagerly. “It's gotta be something big, right?”

Without answering the question, Spitfire stands up and goes to the middle of the room, where a whiteboard is, leaving Rainbow Dash confused and disappointed. And she becomes even more confused when Spitfire looks at the clock and starts tapping her hoof impatiently. Anyone who has been around Spitfire knows that when she taps her hoof, someone has done something very wrong. Rainbow Dash scans the room to see if anything is wrong with the group, but she only sees them talking and making adjustments, something Spitfire doesn't care about most of the time before her meetings start. However, with Spitfire staring at the clock and tapping her hoof, Rainbow Dash is certain that it is her team's behavior that is the source of her irritation. So, being the good soldier that she is, Rainbow Dash is about to set the team straight. That is until the door bangs open and another pegasus stumbles in.

Everyone stops what they are doing at stares at the newcomer with a mix of curious murmurs and snickers. Rainbow Dash cocks her head when she sees that the newcomer is also wearing a Chrysaor suit and stammering a stream of breathless apologies. She recognizes that voice and her suspicion is confirmed when Spitfire stomps towards the newbie with her wings flared.

She helps him up with a sharp tug, then jabs him in the chest, sneering: “You're late, Hurricane.”

“Sorry, ma'am, I got held up,” stammers Thunderlane. “The technicians and the-”

“Did I just hear an excuse?” growls Spitfire.

“Oh shit, somepony is bucked,” snickers Fire Streak.

“No ma'am-Yes ma'am! That was an excuse, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am!” says Thunderlane loudly in a trembling voice.

Spitfire shakes her head in disappointment, and Rainbow Dash can hear Thunderlane shake in his suit. She is grateful that he has yet to take his helmet off, otherwise the others would be laughing at the tears in his eyes that she knows are there.

“This is the Air Guard, Hurricane. We do not apologize. Apologies are for the Navy and Army,” says Spitfire with a sneer. “In the Air Guard we admit and then do better. You best remember that or else you're going back to Cumulus for retraining. Now have a seat.”

Thunderlane salutes and takes a seat in the very back of the room, away from the others, and Spitfire orders everyone remove their helmets and to have a seat as she makes her way to the whiteboard. Rainbow Dash takes a seat next to Thunderlane right as he pops off his helmet. He rubs his eyes to hide the red and to make a poor illusion that his hoof is not trembling.

“You okay?” asks Rainbow Dash.

Thunderlane nods, and right as Rainbow Dash is about to say something, Spitfire points at them, thus snapping their bodies to rigid attention.

“Dash, you can flirt with the boys when we're done,” says Spitfire sharply. When Fire Streak snickers, though, she turns her all seeing eyes to him. “And you shut your mouth. Don't think I didn't hear your little remark, because I did, and if you do that again I will tell everypony here about your jelly incident.”

Fire Streak's smile fades and he shrinks in his seat, eyes shifting side to side with thick beads of sweat trickling down his face and neck. Everyone looks at him questionably, but are quick to put their attention back to Spitfire when she clears her throat.

Spitfire points at Thunderlane. “Now, everypony, this is Airstallion Thunderlane Hurricane. He's been transferred here from Gust's unit. That means he is part of our team now and you will show him the same respect that you show each other, clear?”

“Yes ma'am,” says the group in unison.

“Good. Now on to the important things. Soarin has ordered League of Justice leader Roar Shock to be transferred from Singsong to Black Sun Prison for further interrogation, and we are going to be the lucky ones to deliver him to the warden.”

Spitfire walks to the back of the room and after flicking off the lights she turns on a projector. The projector hums and bathes the whiteboard in a yellowish light with a simple map of eastern Equestria on it. Their path is outlined in red, starting close to Canterlot and ending on an island off the coast, and Spitfire walks to the whiteboard, grabs a pointing stick and aims it at their path while looking at her team.

“Now, here's how it's going to play out.”

A few hours later, the Wonderbolts and a group of Royal Guards step into the chamber where Roar Shock is being held, and the very first thing Rainbow Dash notices about the terrorist leader is that he is so relaxed that he is almost napping. Her gut twists into a knot when he notices them approach and stands away from the door with a small smile.

“Stay away from the door,” orders Spitfire.

“I'm already away from the door,” points out Roar Shock.

Spitfire turns to Misty and orders her to open the door. Silver Lining, Fleetfoot, Rainbow Dash and Thunderlane keep their weapons trained on the prisoner while Fire Streak and Spitfire stay in the back. After Misty opens the cell, Spitfire orders the regulars to grab Roar Shock. The guards briskly walk in, clamp a chain to the collar around his neck and pull him out. Rainbow Dash becomes even more suspicious of him when he retains his smile and walks out without a hint of resistance. When Roar Shock is out of the cell he looks at Rainbow Dash and smiles wider after looking at her patch.

“It is an honor to be in the presence of the Element of Loyalty,” he says.

“Save the chivalry for later,” sneers Rainbow Dash.

“Dash, don't talk to the prisoner!” barks Spitfire.

“Don't you worry, ma'am, me and Dashie were just finishing up,” chuckles Roar Shock.

Rainbow Dash growls and watches Roar Shock with hellish daggers as he is escorted out of the chamber. She follows the group out and keeps an extra close eye on Roar Shock. His smug smile and his tone in his remark about him and her finishing up their conversation doesn't make Rainbow Dash feel any better. When Spitfire is next to her, Rainbow Dash leans in close so that their helmets are almost touching.

“Is it just me, or does this guy seem a little too mellow about being transferred to a prison island?” says Rainbow Dash uneasily.

“Something's off, I know it,” replies Spitfire, then she puts her hoof to the side of her helmet and the radios crackle to life. “Guys, keep an extra close eye on Roar Shock. I don't like the vibe he's giving off.”

In Canterlot, a couple of Royal Guards stationed in the Celestial Spire are sitting in a break room that has a warm glow and simple, but comfortable, furniture. Both are unicorns and are using their magic to play with a deck of cards. Though, between the two of them, one is confused and slightly aggravated while the other is grinning and having a great time.

“So, what is this game supposed to be again?” asks the confused guard.

“It's called Altai Hold 'Em. It's a griffin game,” replies the cheerful guard.

“Now I remember why nopony likes griffins.”

“Hey, come on now, my sweetheart is a griffin.”

The confused guard gives the other a skeptical glance. “I thought you were married to whatsherface. The one with the mole.”

The cheerful guard pshaws and waves the notion away. “Her? Nah, we got divorced when I found out that she was part ibex. And now when I look back, I can't believe I didn't see the signs.”

Before a word can be said about the matter, the radio crackles to life.

“Lieutenant String, do you copy? This is Corporal Hilt. Over,” says a shaky stallion.

The cheerful one, String, sighs and activates his radio. “Learn proper radio chatter, Hilt. What seems to be the problem? Over.”

“We got a group here from Hoofington saying that they have parts for the Spire. Over.”

String looks at the other stallion questionably, and he returns the look in kind. They are silent for a moment before String activates his radio.

“What are they bringing? Over.”

“They said that they are supposed to be delivering some kind of enhancement for the water talismans. Over.”

String mutters under his breath as he wipes his nose. He has no idea what they are talking about and he knows for a fact that his group is being idiotic right now.

“Okay, keep the truck there and I'll be right out. Over and out.”

“But, sir, it is four trucks. Over.”

“Corporal, I just said 'Over and out'. That means I'm done talking to you, and I don't care if it is a dozen trucks. You keep them there! Over. And. Out.” String swears and stands up, adjusting his helmet as he sees fit, then he looks at his card playing partner and shakes his head. “I swear, these damn rookies are gonna get me killed one day.”

A few minutes later, String marches out and is greeted by Corporal Hilt, a lanky, nervous stallion. The stallion offers the salute and leads him to the four jumbo sized mini-trains. As they approach them, String sees that they have the Research and Development seal on them, and the lead truck is being driven by an aquamarine mare wearing the Royal Guard uniform. She looks even more nervous than Hilt, which strikes some suspicion in String, but another thing that the lieutenant notices, is that out of the dozen guards positioned around the vehicles, not one has opened the trucks.

“Sergeant Weight, where are you!” barks String. A large, sturdy looking stallion trots around the corner and doesn't even get a chance to do a proper reporting statement before String unloads on him. “How come none of these carts have been opened!”

“We were waiting for you, sir,” says Weight.

“Well, open them! Goddess-damn, what is wrong with you guys? And why are you having a corporal contact me when you're the sergeant, anyway?”

“I was busy, sir.”

String shakes his head, swearing under his breath as he approaches the driver side of the mini-train. He climbs up on a set of stairs to an elevated position that makes him eye level with the driver. The driver might as well be vibrating in a shower from how much she is shaking and sweating. She is quick to levitate her credentials to him via magic, and he, too, takes them with his magic.

“We weren't expecting anything from Hoffington for a while,” says String.

“Sorry, sir, I'm just the driver,” says the mare, her voice quivering to near incomprehensible levels.

String hmms absently and flips through the paperwork. As he reads over the orders and supplies, he notices that not only is the wording of the supply list off, but the mare's horn is still glowing.

“Why are you so nervous?” asks String cautiously as he slightly draws his pistol with his magic.

In the protective outer ring of Singsong Prison, Rainbow Dash watches Roar Shock's head tilted up at the late day sunbeams poking their way through the cloud barriers with his eyes closed. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes with yet another relaxed smile and looks at the Wonderbolts. Specifically at Rainbow Dash.

“It is a beautiful day out, don't you think?” says Roar Shock.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rainbow Dash notices Spitfire pressing the side of her helmet, and a second later, there is a crackling inside her helmet.

“Nopony say a word to him,” orders Spitfire.

Roar Shock looks at the guards next to him, then he looks at the Wonderbolts for a moment before looking up at the sky once more. His smile is still there, and when he shifts his position, the guards tense up and he chuckles and brings his gaze back to the soldiers.

“You know, I would've been one of you, but one little lie ruined it. It is funny, too, since my recruiter told me it wasn't a big deal if I kept it a secret. But when the truth came out, and I tried to explain that I was told to keep that little detail a secret, do you want to know what my MTI said?”

Rainbow Dash looks at Roar Shock with her ears perked as much as they can be inside the helmet, which isn't much and very uncomfortable. She sees Roar Shock's smile had faded to a deep, resentful scowl and his eye has a slight twitch to it.

“'It is ponies like you that ruin the Guard',” recites Roar Shock grimly. Roar Shock looks at Rainbow Dash. “I was always loyal to my Cloud. I made sure I did what I could to help and I held the oath, even to this day I hold integrity and selflessness to the highest regard.”

“This guy is so full of crap,” says Fleetfoot over the radio.

Rainbow Dash wants to nod in agreement, but she is worried that if she nods, it will come off as agreeing with the deranged pony chained in front of them.

“But this nation has no more integrity or selflessness. It is led by honorless bureaucrats,” continues Roar Shock. “The very same pony that you have chosen to lead your armies has no doubt rutted Dashie over there. You'd think you would've picked a leader that didn't go after mares half his age.”

Rainbow Dash's eye twitches and her jaw tightens as her teeth grind against each other. Her muscles also tense and she fights to keep her wings from launching herself at Roar Shock to beat him to a pulp. She doesn't even care if anyone can hear her growl. She actually wants Roar Shock to hear her.

“Where's the convoy?” asks Thunderlane uneasily.

“Relax, buddy, it's literally driving up right now,” replies Silver Lining, his tone laid back just like his demeanor. Though that quickly changes when Spitfire looks at him.

Rainbow Dash sighs with relief when she sees the armored convoy pull around the corner. It is made up of eleven armored vehicles. Ten of them are armored wagons with Gatling guns on top, and the eleventh is a mammoth sized mini-train, also heavily armored with treads replacing the wheels.

When they pull up, Thunderlane approaches Spitfire.

“They're two minutes late, ma'am,” says Thunderlane, his voice still queasy.

“And you were fifteen minutes late,” snaps Spitfire. She then presses her hoof against the side of her helmet and says: “Keep an eye on Shock. I'm going to have a word with the lead.”

“I know you're talking,” says Roar Shock with a roll of his eyes. “I can see you're hooves pressing the sides of your helmets. Not very subtle.”

Spitfire approaches the lead wagon and while she has private words with the mare leading, Thunderlane and Rainbow Dash look at Roar Shock, and when he realizes the two are looking at him, his smug smile fades and he swallows nervously as he looks down on the asphalt.

“Looks like his smug attitude it gone,” says Thunderlane.

“He's probably acting. Sociopaths are good at that,” says Rainbow Dash.

“Search the trucks!” barks Spitfire over the radio.

Weight and Hilt approach the back of the mini-train, and once they open the back of the vehicle a flurry of puffs break the mold of tense silence. The two guards drop down with pouring bullet holes and blood splatter on the vehicle behind them as six ponies dressed in Royal Guard battle armor and armed with silenced weapons hop out. They, along with more impersonated guards quickly gun down the real guards stationed around the entrance.

During the massacre, String yanks out his pistol and fires off a couple of rounds before Lyra's revolver jolts up and puts a single round through his eye. With the muffler on her pistol, the shot is reduced to a pitiful puff, but the shot is still strong enough to send the lieutenant's head snapping back and splashing the wall behind him with blood and bits of his brain. He crumbles to the ground and Lyra squeezes her eyes shut and presses her hoof over the bullet injury on her shoulder, sobbing quietly as more silenced shots penetrate the air.

When the shots are over, Lyra opens her eyes and looks at the massacre. Blood is splattered all over the walls and corpses are littering the ground. All the dozen guards outside are dead, and a few more in the doorway lie bleeding to death. One is gasping for air, but is quickly executed by three of the League of Justice ponies. Lyra stifles a yelp and jumps in her seat when she sees the body jerk under the impact of the bullets. A moment later, Lyra's radio crackles and she looks out of the mirror to see the mechanically armored stallion that rescued her from Bernese jump out of one of the vehicles while some of the infiltrators carry metal cylinders inside the Celestial Spire.

“Everypony move out,” orders the stallion over the radio. “The Reckoning is in full effect. Harp, you know what to do.”

Lyra nods and after pulling up the vehicle so she can actually open the door, she gingerly climbs out and limps to the body. Lieutenant String's eyes are shut, but the massive hole in his head reminds Lyra of peering inside a watermelon, only this time the watermelon is made up of blood has a bony ridge. Lyra kneels down and carefully removes the slain officer's radio pack, quietly apologizing in the process, and she slips it on.

Once the radio pack is on, she tilts the microphone so that it is pointed at her horn and adjusts the radio's frequency. Then, after doing a couple of tests, she takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and her horn starts pulsating a warm mist of green and blue that seeps into the radio headset.

Trixie zooms down the highway as fast as her bee can go. Even with the armor and jumpsuit, she can still hear the wind rushing past her and feel a small chill nip at her face, but she doesn't care. She doesn't even care about the near misses that she is encountering as she narrowly avoids motorized wagons and mini-trains making their daily commutes. The only panic she is feeling is the fear of not reaching the Spire in time to stop the League from killing Monte and all of Equestria.

“Please don't make me too late,” prays Trixie.

Lyra's horn is still glowing as she limps up the stairs with four impersonated guards trailing behind her. It seems like everywhere she is going, anyone with a headset is already asleep or on the verge of passing out. Unfortunately for the ones that are not yet asleep, they are ruthlessly gunned down by the impersonators. She tries to contain her sniffles and tears, but with every tired body being mowed down in front of her, she is finding it harder to do so.

When they reach the top, a blue earth pony stallion with a thick head of dark blue hair bucks open the door while the others storm in. They do a short run down the hallway and enter a room with a wall's height of radio equipment and wires of all sizes snaking all over. In the room is a group of four ponies hunched over and snoring. Lyra gives a silent thanks to Celestia when she sees the ponies inside are sleeping.

After wiping her nose and blinking the tears out of her eyes, Lyra waves her hoof to the sleepers.

“Tie them up,” she orders with a sniffle. The impersonators barely acknowledge her with a nod as they hurry with their task, and Lyra pulls up a seat by the communications array while levitating a second, considerably smaller radio. “Kairos, we got the comm room.”

Lyra waits for a response, but when she doesn't get a reply for a few seconds, she inspects her radio then looks at her team questionably. The blue stallion, named Mullet, gives her an answer after making an obnoxious snort.

“You're supposed to say 'Over',” he says.

Lyra flushes with embarrassment from forgetting that tiny detail, and looks away.

“Oh... Kairos, we got the room. Over,” she says carefully.

“Was any signal sent? Over.” asks Kairos over the radio.

Lyra checks the consoles. “No, sir... Over.”

“Keep it that way. Over and out.”

Monte checks his teeth in the mirror, using a toothpick with his magic to pick out the invisible foes that will ruin his image. He is shaking a little bit from Trixie's warning, but he keeps repeating to himself mentally that Andromeda is too good to let a bunch of terrorists take over the building. To put his nerves at rest, Monte winks and clicks his tongue to admire his good looking reflection, and tries to hide his nervousness with a smile when the excited murmurs of the crowd outside reaches his ears.

“So, what did Trixie want?” asks Hank casually as he trots up to Monte.

“Hm?” Monte barely looks at Hank before he looks back at the mirror, twirling his hat in his hooves to hide the shaking. “Oh, nothing, we just had to do some catching up and she wished me luck for my survival -Show! She wished me luck for my show when we were catching up.”

Hank arches his brow. “What kind of catching up?”

Monte sighs sadly and looks down, his twirling coming to a halt.

“Personal stuff. Why?” he says.

“I'm just wondering since you've been acting weirder than usual ever since that 'catching up'.”

Monte chuckles obnoxiously and puts his hat on, then he grins broadly and slips his hoof around Hank's shoulder. “Me? Weird? When have I ever acted weird?”

“Are we seriously going to go there?”

“No. No we're not. Is the stuff ready to go?”

Hank nods and Monte thanks him and pats him on the shoulder, then he walks towards the makeshift stage entrance, where Andromeda is waiting with a radio clipped to her saddle and headset hanging on her ear. She is leaning against the wall peeking out to the excited crowd and yawning loudly. Monte actually stops and takes a step back as he stares at her with wide eyes. He is surprised that the EIB Director's jaw hasn't been dislocated from how wide her mouth has opened.

Monte leans close to Hank and whispers: “Is it possible for snakes and ponies to have babies?”

Hank shakes his head. “Last I checked, no.”

After Andromeda smacks her lips and rubs her eyes, she glances at Monte.

“What's wrong with you?” she asks.

“Oh, nothing, just thought I saw a demon for a second,” replies Monte with a nervous chuckle. He gulps when Andromeda's eyes narrow, and Hank leaving his side to do something other than to stand next to him only makes the situation worse. In a futile attempt to take his mind off of the lashing he'll be getting later, he grins and skips towards the stage. “So, I'm all set. Safe and sound like a locked up hound, right?”

Andromeda nods slowly, her scowl having yet to fade. “Everything is fine, Monte. Just go out there and do what we're paying you to do.”

“Can I have an unopened bottled water before-”

“You're already late. Get up there. Now.”

“Okay. See you on the other side.”

Monte takes one last last breath and opens up the makeshift stage curtains with a glow of his horn. The spotlight blinds him and the audience's excited applause and cheers shake his bones. Monte flashes his trademark smile and trots to the center of the stage, and once there, he takes a deep bow with his hat pressed against his barrel. When he lifts his head, he notices that the guards around the room are yawning and struggling to stand up.

Monte fights to hold his smile as he waves to the crowd, but Trixie's warning of how the League of Justice is very good at killing is making his efforts all the harder. He notices out of his peripheral vision Andromeda trudging to the corner with wobbles in her steps and Hank standing close to her to help her stay up.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlecolts! How are you all doing today!” begins Monte, trying to conceal the nervousness with a cheerful tone and smile. The crowd yells out a series of overlapping responses and Monte forces his smile to stay while lifting his hoof, signaling the workers to quiet down. “You guys have been working hard, and to congratulate you for all your hard work and dedication to this project you get yourselves a magic show!”

The crowd cheers and Monte glances to Andromeda again. She is barely keeping her eyes open and her stance steady, and has to have Hank keep her up. Hank looks at Monte with worry and Monte, in turn, looks back at the audience, his smile visibly wavering. The audience is too energized to notice, though. Monte swallows and looks around at the audience, noticing that the other guards are now slumping over or sitting down with huge bags under their eyes.

“Uh, why don't I -we start um start out with a bang!”

Monte stomps his hooves on the ground and a puff of colorful smoke with equally colorful sparks explode from the stage, surrounding Monte in a mystifying haze shaped like a spade. The crowd cheers and when the smoke clears, Monte is chuckling and sweating nervously with his deck of cards around him. He grabs the queen of hearts and holds it up to his eyes, smiling sadly with the similarities it holds to Trixie, and the card only seems to amplify the warning she gave him earlier.

“Now then, let's start with...”

Monte looks to his side and his voice drones to a stop as he notices Andromeda's eyes are wide and her mouth is moving like she is trying to speak, but the words are not coming out. Hank doesn't notice this at first, but when he notices Andromeda tilting and the oval of red growing from her chest, he pales and catches her, putting both of them on the ground.

Andromeda gulps for air and Monte gallops to her side as the crowd murmurs in fear and confusion about what is going on. He slides down next to her right when a storm of silenced gunshots tear apart the guards stationed in the room. The workers scream and shrink down as the guards in the atrium fall to the ground with circles of blood splashed on the walls behind them. Everyone whimpers and huddles together when the armored stallion from Bernese walks in the room with six impersonated Royal Guards surrounding him. His steps shake the room and the breathing from his speakers sound like a dragon readying itself to breathe flame.

Monte yanks off his hat and presses his jacket against the bullet wound in Andromeda's chest while Hank shrinks down next to them. Andromeda swallows and her eyes drift up to the ceiling as blood trickles from the corner of her mouth, and Hank slides next to her head and gently turns her to him.

“Keep your eyes on me, okay?” he orders softly. “Don't close them. Keep them open and think of something peaceful.”

Monte presses harder against the wound, but it seems like the blood won't stop coming. Within seconds his jacket is drenched and his hooves are slick with her blood. Andromeda's eyes drift shut, but Hank shakes her and they snap open again, and Monte tries to adjust himself when a barrel presses against the back of his head.

“Away from her,” orders a unicorn mare with a beige coat and a curly brown mane donning Royal Guard armor.

Monte gulps and peeks over his shoulder with one hoof held up protectively. “She needs a doctor,” he says with a shaky voice.

“And you aren't one, so back off.”

Monte shoots the unicorn a nasty glare. “How do you know?”

Monte's world goes white as the butt of the weapon is rammed against the back of his head, and when everything becomes clear again, Hank is on his back with the same unicorn is standing on top of him, pressing the barrel against the back of his head. The unicorn mare has a bloody nose and is snarling. Monte feels the back of his head when he feels a warmth trickle down his neck, but he can't tell if he's looking at his blood or Andromeda's when he pulls his hoof to the front of his face. When Monte hears the weapon cock, though, he screams and extends his hoof to Hank.

“Leave them, Cheddar,” rumbles the stallion in the robotic suit, named Kairos.

The unicorn stops and looks at Kairos questionably, but nods and backs away while Kairos climbs on the stage. Once in the center he does a look over of the captured audience before speaking.

“Ladies and gentlecolts,” begins Kairos, his voice booming through his speakers, “it comes to my great displeasure that you will be at Ground Zero for the coming event.”

“I will not enjoy this, but this police state, and the immorality it has glorified, must be brought to an end.”

The armored convoy speeds away from the prison with the Wonderbolts flying overhead. Rainbow Dash wishes she can enjoy the wind through her feathers and mane, just like the days before Hell took over. She looks in the distance and sees the structures of a small town poking up in the flat landscape on one side, and the other metropolis of Canterlot with the Royal Palace and the Celestial Spire next to each other. The convoy turns to the small town.

“If you are innocent, I can only offer an apology, but you have nothing to fear, for you will find eternal peace in Paradise.”

The convoy enters the small town, which has a homy welcoming sign of bright colors and cheerful imagery of a smiling family. The sign says: Welcome to Glorieta.

And greeting them after the sign is a large temple with its walls white and its dome golden. Perched on top is a steeple that has a glass sun reflecting the light like a beacon of hope, and in front of its elegant, wooden doors is a large sign that says: The Sun Saves!

“But if you are corrupted, then damnation awaits you.”

Not even a block down, another building appears. It is a two story brick building with pulsating neon signs and sensually provocative imagery of hetero and homo couples publicly enjoying bedroom antics. The glowing sign boasts that all the fantasy desires one can possibly want awaits inside.

“There is no point in trying to resist or call for help. This is the end, and nopony can stop it.”

The convoy drives down the main street, but everything seems too still for Rainbow Dash. There is nobody tending the temple's gardens or entering or exiting the morally desolate building a block down, and nobody is peeking out their windows to fuel their curiosity. Rainbow Dash doesn't even need to hear Spitfire's orders to keep her eyes open when she scans the area more intently.

Within a minute, the convoy is right in the center of the town, and as soon as the lead wagon passes over a manhole in the center of the street, there is a loud pop and a flash of light hidden by a plume of kicked up asphalt and concrete blown to dust. The lead vehicle sails end over end in the air as a burning skeletal wreck, and once it lands on its roof, it splatters and the vehicle behind it runs into it, sending its burning parts flying and the flattened wreckage spinning to the side of the road, where it crashes into a small shop.

Before anyone has a chance to react, a loud crack echoes over the blink of chaos and Fire Streak jerks to the side with a jet of blood spurting out from him. Rainbow Dash can hear him scream as he falls, and when he lands on the hood of one of the convoy vehicles he nearly goes through the windshield and the vehicle swerves to a stop near the side of the road while concealed shooters fire at them from the inside of another shop, completely shattering the windows in seconds.

“We got contact!” exclaims Silver Lining.

Fleetfoot yells for Fire Streak and swoops down next to him and drags him off of the car while bullets bounce off the armored vehicle. The soldiers inside the crashed vehicle hop out and blindly return fire with the other escort vehicles, but powerful explosions erupt from the ground level of the buildings, engulfing the military vehicles in a cloud fire and shrapnel. Some veer off course and crash into each other while others flip from the explosive forces. The mini-train housing Roar Shock is still driving, though, and speeds towards an opening, plowing through the wreckage littering the street. But its journey comes to an abrupt end when a trio of concealed weapons rain down a storm of lead on the driver's cabin, destroying the windshields and metal plates and painting the insides red.

“Don't let them near Roar Shock!” orders Spitfire.

Trixie's bee comes to a stop at the roof of a parking garage not too far from the Celestial Spire. Her heart is racing as she runs near the edge, past a small platform that has a tourist telescope bolted to it, and tries to get a good view of the structure. She can't see anything with just her bare eyes so she tries using the telescope, only to see darkness. Trixie swears and tries to get it to work in her favor by shaking it, banging on it, and ordering it to work, but none of her methods are able to make it operate the way she wants it to.

“What the hell is wrong with you, you stupid piece of shit,” growls Trixie.

“You kinda have to slip the bits in first,” teases Pinkie Pie.

Trixie yelps and leaps away from the platform and nearly falls on her haunches from her backpedaling. She puts her hoof over her her heart and stares at Pinkie Pie with wide eyes while the pink pony slips a bit into the machine. The machine clicks and whirs and Pinkie Pie peers inside, whistling soon after.

“Yeah, that's not good,” says Pinkie Pie worryingly.

Trixie's brain snaps back into focus and she pulls off her helmet and jumpsuit around her head to glare at Pinkie Pie, not caring about the massive hat-mane she has at the moment.

“Where did you come from!?” exclaims Trixie, then she does a once over of Pinkie Pie's sort-of natural look. “And why are you pink again?”

“I followed you and pink is so in this year,” answers Pinkie Pie coolly without taking her eyes off of the telescope. “Yeah, this is not good at all.”

Trixie looks past Pinkie Pie and sees the mini-train parked right next to her bee, then she looks back at Pinkie Pie, who is still mumbling to herself and tilting the telescope this way and that.

“You just love following me, don't you?” says Trixie with a frown.

Pinkie Pie nods. “Well, you kinda threw a hammer in my plans so I had to come and make sure you didn't get yourself killed.”

Trixie's scowl deepens and she pulls Pinkie Pie away and jabs her in the chest with her hoof, yelling: “You mean the plan where you steal the suit made for me to stop the guys that trained me and possibly get yourself killed in the process! And its 'wrench in the plan', not 'hammer', just a little FYI, Pinkie!”

Pinkie Pie paws the ground, her saddened gaze away from the unicorn, and with a simple nod, her only reply is: “Pretty much, and wrenches and hammers are both tools so it doesn't really matter.”

Trixie scoffs and paces in front of Pinkie Pie. “Unbelievable. Vinyl said I had a death wish, but I think it's you with the death wish. I want to live, you're just... just crazy!”

Pinkie Pie points at herself. “What do you want from me? I was trying to buy you guys time so you can leave before the League goes Armageddon on everypony! And let's be honest, I'm better at this than you. You never have a plan and I always have a plan, so if I was going to die, then I was going to die making sure that you guys were safe, because that's what friends do! Now take off that suit and go to the zeppelin port right now!”

Trixie steps away from Pinkie Pie, snarling and aiming her sparking horn at the Element of Laughter with dangerous intent.

“That is not going to happen,” growls Trixie. “Trixie has a job to do and by Celestia Trixie will do it! There is nothing you can say or do that will stop Trixie from saving Monte!”

Trixie instantly eeps and clamps her mouth shut with her hoof over her face to hide the red seas on her cheeks, thus forcing her to the sitting position. Pinkie Pie arches a brow and stares at Trixie awkwardly for a few seconds before a wolfish smile spreads across her face, which only makes Trixie's burning ears droop and body shrink down further.

“You and Monte must've had a really good time in Bernese,” snickers Pinkie Pie deviously.

“SHUT UP!” snaps Trixie, her face now burning like super heated metal.

“Hey, I'm just saying, you burn up pretty good whenever somepony mentions Monte.”

“Can we please get on to something a bit more important? Like, oh I don't know, stopping the League of Justice from killing millions of ponies!”

Pinkie Pie stifles a laugh and waves her hoof. “Sure, no problem. Let's just drive up on your bee and hope that we aren't brutally gunned down before we get inside.”

“What are you talking about? The League isn't here yet otherwise we would have...known. Pinkie?”

During the course of Trixie's sentence, Pinkie Pie's smile fades to a grim expression, and after she mentions Pinkie Pie's name, the Element of Laughter points at the telescope. Trixie looks at Pinkie Pie, then at the telescope, and back at Pinkie Pie again before she hesitantly approaches the device.

“Yeah, they're already here,” says Pinkie Pie grimly as Trixie peeks through the scope.

Trixie groans as soon as she sees sees 505 Magic Avenue printed above the entrance, which has a group of Royal Guards armed with silenced weapons patrolling. She counts six of the them, but knows that more are inside. As Trixie watches the imposters, she can't help but think that Roar Shock just put all of his remaining chips in the pot. Shining Armor had crippled the League of Justice after the Ponyville incident, and with the massive failures at Bernese, Trixie is surprised that Roar Shock even has troops to use, but isn't surprised that most, if not all, are holding the entire building hostage.

As Trixie silently tries to think of a decent plan, her mind keeps drawing up blanks, and it is frankly hurting her head. Pinkie Pie offers to have another look, and Trixie reluctantly pulls away to allow her to use it.

“How did you know that the attack was today?” asks Pinkie Pie curiously.

“It was actually just a hunch,” admits Trixie. “The League is a bunch of divas and I figured they would attack if a celebrity like Monte was performing. It would make security tighter and the impact all the greater if they succeeded. How did you know they were going to attack today?”

Pinkie Pie looks away from the telescope to stare at Trixie with an unimpressed frown, and it takes the unicorn a few seconds to realize the obvious answer to her silly question.

“Never mind. Forget I asked,” says Trixie.

“Yeah, I'll do that. So, did you actually have a plan to stop those League guys when they showed up?” asks Pinkie Pie.

“Yep, and it is the same plan as my others. Sneak in and beat the shit out of everypony.”

“That... That is not a plan. At all. That's just you doing stuff on the fly and hoping you don't get killed.”

“Well, it's the way of Trixie and Trixie's way has worked out pretty well so far so shut it!” says Trixie viciously with a stomp of her hoof.

Pinkie Pie holds up her hoof defensively with a shake of her head.

“That plan is stupidly dumb, Trixie. You won't save anypony with a plan like that,” she says carefully.

Trixie rolls her eyes. “And I suppose you got a plan.”

“Duh! Of course I do! I'm Pinkie Pie! I always have a plan!” says Pinkie Pie loudly, then she quiets down and her voice becomes low as she approaches Trixie. “But I got to make some changes since you're here. The idea will stay the same, but it should be easier since you're here now. Now, the sucky part is that I have a strong feeling that we will either die or come out scarred for the rest of our lives. So, are you still up to it?”

Trixie takes a deep breath, looks at the Celestial Spire, and the she looks back at Pinkie Pie with determination fueling the flames in her veins and the fierce glow in her eyes.

“Lets do this.”

“This area was supposed to be secure!” cries Misty over the radio.

Rainbow Dash swoops down and rolls behind cover as a concealed shooter fires at her. Chunks of asphalt are kicked up and the wagon she had rolled behind buckles when the bullets tear apart the tires. She peeks out and manages to catch a glimpse of the mini-train they had been guarding has been opened and the soldiers that were inside are now out and are shooting back from a hastily made perimeter. She can also hear Spitfire trying to reach Soarin over the radio, and she looks to Fleetfoot and Fire Streak to see that the injured stallion had been dragged behind cover and is now being treated by the mare.

Her eyes snap towards the adult fun center when a muzzle flash appears in the darkness, followed instantly by the windshield next to her shattering and a bullet hole popping in the wall behind her.

“Son of a-”

Rainbow Dash launches herself in the air, narrowly avoiding the gunfire, and does an evasive twirl before turning herself into a living bullet and flying with pinpoint accuracy through the gaping hole that was once a window. She rolls inside and despite the bullets bouncing off of her armor, she can still feel their punches and she does stumble a bit, but is able to recuperate quickly and give the ambushers hell.

She charges the two ambushers on the floor by rolling between them, barely avoiding getting shot in the process, and guides her bladed tail skillfully against the throat of the victim behind her. He falls to the ground, gurgling and clutching his throat with blood flowing freely past his hooves, and his partner has his chest blown open by a burst of gunfire, covering a poster of a smiling, smoking pony with his blood.

Before Rainbow Dash has a chance to do anything else, the door near her dramatic entrance is kicked open and three more soldiers rush with their weapons aimed at her. She swears and dives into a pornographic love nest, covering her head and kicking the door shut while holes are punched through the walls and blow apart the erotic decorations. She rolls to her feet and stays low, trying to keep her panting and panicking heart steady while aiming her weapons at the door when the the shooting stops. She can hear the footsteps despite the pops of gunfire from outside, and gulps when she sees the lights peeking through the holes disappear one by one.

“Soarin, we need support NOW!” yells Spitfire over the radio.

Rainbow Dash braces herself.

“Support is on its way, Spitfire, just hang tight,” says Soarin, the panic clear in his tone.

Rainbow Dash jumps when three rapid bangs make three clusters of bullet holes appear in the wall, followed by four different grunts, the wall and floor shaking with stuff breaking on the other side, and a trio of thuds. Then there is silence for a few more seconds before the floor starts creaking from the other side. Rainbow Dash still keeps low as she slithers to the other side of the room and lies in the corner on her stomach, still keeping her eyes on the door. The door is almost bucked off of its hinges, but nobody enters and the Element of Loyalty nearly chomps on her bit.

“Rainbow Dash, are you in there!” calls Thunderlane from the other side.

“Yeah!” responds Rainbow Dash, laughing from the intense relief washing over her when she sees her new teammate carefully stepping into the room with smoke rising from his weapon's barrel. They meet each other in the center of the room and she punches him in the shoulder and scolds him with: “You completely botched the call, you moron!”

Thunderlane tenderly rubs his shoulder while muttering an apology, but Rainbow Dash dismisses his apology with a wave and a shake of her head.

“Never mind,” she says, “we gotta get Roar Shock outta here before his goons take him away.”

Rainbow Dash leads the way out of the room and scans for more hostiles while Thunderlane remains behind her. One the ground are three bleeding and unconscious ponies.

“They had to have known that we would take him through this part,” says Thunderlane uneasily when he looks at one of the fallen terrorists. “The bombs. The crossfire. Its all too organized.”

“Yeah, I know,” says Rainbow Dash sourly, spreading her wings once she is near the window. “Somepony's in our guy's bag, but we'll never know who if we let them take him away.”

Rainbow Dash doesn't give Thunderlane a chance to reply, for she is already out the window and observing the carnage from above. Plumes of smoke rise from the burning vehicles and buildings, and bodies of ambushed soldiers litter the streets with streams of blood snaking outward. The remaining soldiers have taken up defensive positions around the neighborhood, and the team protecting Roar Shock is nowhere to be found.

As Rainbow Dash scans the battlefield, a tiny star flashes in the temple steeple and there is a crack and a bullet whizzes by her. Rainbow Dash swoops and spins in the air, narrowly avoiding the sniper shots, but she swears and becomes more sporadic in her maneuvers when another powerful shot erupts from a clock tower not too far in the town. The bullet grazes her and she yelps and swoops down with crazy motions as the two snipers try to take her down.

She swoops down and slides inside the shop where Fire Streak, Fleetfoot, Misty and a few Royal Guards are. Fire Streak is sitting against the wall with a bandage being applied to his side by Fleetfoot and Misty coordinating a defensive perimeter with the four Royal Guards with them. Everyone ducks when a sniper shot blows off a chunk of the door frame. Rainbow Dash crawls as quickly as she can across the floor to her companions and comes to a stop next to the three Wonderbolts. Even though Misty and Fleetfoot are wearing full helmets, Rainbow Dash can feel the scornful expressions they have. Fire Streak isn't wearing his helmet, so Rainbow Dash can see his sweaty mane matted to his paler face and the pain in his eyes when he looks at her, but he's in too much pain to do any serious scolding. The other soldiers look at her, too, but they quickly go back to keeping the doors covered when Rainbow Dash glares at them from behind her visor.

“You're an idiot, you know that right?” says Misty angrily.

“Hey, I was getting a good view of the land-town-place... area,” says Rainbow Dash defensively.

“Why don't we paint a bulls-eye on your body next time?” remarks Fleetfoot.

“That's enough!” orders Fire Streak, growling in pain and keeling over with his hoof over his injury. He looks at everyone, panting and clearly in more pain, and they give him their attention. “Dash did something stupid, that is a fact, but now is not the time to talk about it. We got at least two snipers, an unknown number of hostiles, we're divided and-”

“Wait!” interrupts Rainbow Dash with a snap of her hoof. She looks behind her and realizes that Thunderlane is not behind her or anywhere in sight. Her heart almost explodes from how fast it is beating and she gallops to the window and peeks out to search for the charcoal pegasus. “Where's Thunderlane! He was right behind me!” she says, her panic causing her voice to tremble.

“The new guy?” asks Misty.

“Yeah, the new guy!” snaps Rainbow Dash.

“Damn rookies,” grunts Fire Streak. He tries to stand, but Fleetfoot puts a firm hoof on his shoulder and pushes him back down. When he looks at her with a sour look, she shakes her head and he rolls his eyes and looks away from her. “Damn mares.”

Rainbow Dash ignores his statement and strains her eyes to search for him, but she can't see him, or anyone else for that matter. She hears the rat-tat-tats of gunfire, but no one to accompany them. She swears under her breath and scurries away from the window before she activates her radio.

“Dash to Hurricane, do you read? Over.” asks Rainbow Dash desperately over the radio.

There is a fuzz on the other end for a few seconds before Thunderlane's voice becomes clear with a pop.

“This is Hurricane. I'm with the Blue Fairy and have the package. Over,” he whispers.

Everyone exchanges looks of question, and Fire Streak groans in pain and bangs his head against the wall, muttering incoherently.

“What the hell is he talking about?” asks Misty.

“Hang on, Hurricane, we're coming,” says Spitfire over the radio.

“So, he's okay. We still got Roar Shock and-”

Fleetfoot's sentence is cut short by an explosion that launches a burning cloud of splintered wood, shattered brick and glass, and chunks of destroyed goods over the road. With the debris comes a burnt statue of a pixie in a blue dress holding a wand that breaks apart as it bounces across the road. When the smoke clears, Rainbow Dash sees one of the Wonderbolts lying motionless in the middle of the road with three Royal Guards, all bloodied and covered with dust and rubble.

“Lining is down! I repeat! Lining is down! The package is on the run!” yells Spitfire over the radio. She lets out a nasty, agonizing cough before her radio clicks off.

“I see him and am pursuing!” coughs Thunderlane over the radio

Rainbow Dash swears and gallops to the doorway, and right as she is about to take flight, a barrage of bullets shatter the glass and rip into the floor and wood, sending splinters and shards flying in every which direction they can. The Element of Loyalty swears again and dives for cover, wincing and feeling nauseous from the bullets ricocheting off of her armor.

“Shit!” screams Fire Streak while covering his unprotected head with his armored hoof.

“Hurricane, do not engage! Wait for support! That is an order!” barks Spitfire.

Crying through gritted teeth, Fire Streak pushes himself up using the wall for support, despite Fleetfoot's hoof trying to keep him down, and he fearlessly wobbles across the room.

“I am really sick of these damn snipers!” he yells over the gunfire.

Rainbow Dash watches with awe as he limps towards the doorway with his firing bit in his mouth, virtually ignoring the protests of Fleetfoot. Not waiting for any commands for the obvious, Rainbow Dash runs to the window and waves Fleetfoot and Misty over. She motions for those two to shoot at the clock tower while she takes on the steeple. She knows that her weapon will barely have enough to keep the steeple snipers' heads down. But she also knows that Fleetfoot and Misty's weapons have a far better range than hers and will be able to keep the clock tower sniper's head down.

“I can see him! He's heading towards the clock tower with four hostiles and a captured friendly! I can get him!”

Rainbow Dash takes a breath and Fire Streak leans against the doorway, panting and trembling as his own blood dots the floor. He looks at Rainbow Dash and does one nod before aiming his cannon at the steeple.

“Hurricane, it's your hide if you don't wait!”

“Let 'em have it!” shouts Rainbow Dash.

The three Wonderbolts unload their weapons to the clock tower and steeple in a deafening mixed rattle and pops of gunfire. Empty casings rain down around the three while Fire Streak huffs and grinds his teeth as he fights to keep his aim steady on the steeple with the support of the frame.

“BOOM, MOTHERFUCKERS!” bellows Fire Streak, jerking to the ground from the cannon's recoil as the weapon blows out a chunk of the steeple with a ball of fire. The steeple's supports groans and the wood snaps as it tilts over, and with one loud crack, it snaps off and falls through the domed roof, blowing out the stained glass nearby. Fire Streak pants heavily and glances at Rainbow Dash with a thin smile as he slides down. “Now that is how you take care of a sniper.”

“Dash! Cloud! To the clock tower, now! Dancer, stay with Streak!” orders Spitfire.

Rainbow Dash pats Fire Streak on the shoulder and nods to Misty, and then they both fly out of the building, leaving Fire Streak in Fleetfoot's care.

In a dimly lit room illuminated only by blinking lights from the equipment and poorly powered bulbs, Soarin is pacing in front of a wall sized radio set being operated by a couple of anxious officers. The new Captain of the Royal Guard is sweating and fidgeting, in spite of his best efforts to look brave for the lower ranked ponies. But with the rattling gunfire and the screams and shouts over the radio, his mind is spinning all kinds scenarios that all end with Spitfire and Rainbow Dash lying dead in the middle of one of Glorieta's streets.

“Where's Gust's unit?” asks Soarin, not caring if his tone came out snappy or not.

“ETA twenty minutes,” replies the closest officer, who is frantically switching wires and scribbling messages on her pad with her handy magic.

Soarin points at the officer. “You tell Gust he has five!”

“Yes, sir!”

Soarin then marches over to the other side of the room, which is nearly identical in design and activities being conducted by the officers wearing headsets. The only real difference is the color of the coats and mane of the ponies operating the devices.

“Please tell me that the Celestial Spire is okay,” says Soarin pathetically to a standing unicorn mare writing her observations on a pad. Like everyone else, she is also equipped to a headset.

The mare nods and says: “The last security cycle has been checked and the Celestial Spire is still green, sir.”

Soarin sighs with relief and wipes his sweaty mane back. “Oh, thank Celestia.”

“...And so then I told the lady: 'Look, I got hair, too',” says a terrorist stallion impersonating a Royal Guard at the Celestial Spire.

A couple of the impersonators around him chuckle while another laughs heartily and praises him for the funny story. The fun that the group of terrorists enjoying themselves with the joys of storytelling comes to a tragic end when the one telling his tale of mares and hair falls silent and stares at the entrance. One by one, the others follow suit and by the time all of them are looking at the door, all of the guards outside are shouting and using their silenced weapons to shoot at a mini-train barreling through their blockade. In a matter of seconds, the mini-train decimates the blockade and blows through the entrance, sending shards of shattered glass and snapped metal and wood flying towards them.

The terrorists inside swear and scatter, except for the one telling the ridiculous hair story. He barely has time to jump up, and he narrowly avoids getting splattered by the enormous vehicle. He releases a pained grunt as his body is smashed against the hood, and when he looks up, groaning, his eyes widen at the sight of the driver.

“How ya doin'?” says a flat maned Pinkie Pie with an evil smirk.

The hair stallion's hooves scrape uselessly against the hood as his swears are overtaken by the roaring engine and the breaking of brick and wood. The massive vehicle easily plows through the walls, leaving a trail of splinters, glass and sparking lights dangling freely from the ceiling, and when she gets to the end of the hall it pierces the elevator doors. The stallion's scream is cut short when his back cracks against the concrete shaft walls, and he and the bent elevator doors and debris disappear into the darkness, with his ultimate demise being signaled by thuds and metallic bangs.

The mini-train starts to tilt and groan soon after, and Pinkamena giggles as it slides down, coming to an abrupt stop when the nose scratches against the shaft. Seconds later, Pinkamena's giggling devolves into panicked whimpers, and Pinkie Pie shrinks down as her body tingles like thousands of tiny blades poking at her.

“I told you this idea was stupid,” says Pinkamena matter-of-factly with her reflection over Pinkie Pie's in what is left of the rear view mirror.

“Oh, shut up!” hisses Pinkie Pie. “I was doing just fine until you decided to go Jolt MacLane on that guy.”

“That was so much funner than you driving in the lobby pretending to be drunk.”

Pinkie Pie looks out the broken window, wincing when a tearing pain ripples through her shoulder. She tenderly rubs her shoulder and watches helplessly as three more terrorists approach her with their weapons raised. Two are earth ponies and one is a unicorn, and the unicorn has a chubby shotgun floating next to his head with an equally fat muffler on it. She can also hear them saying something into their radio, but with the buzzing, rapid heartbeats and shallow breaths, she has no idea what they are saying. However, that goes without saying that she has a general idea of what the subject is.

She yelps and ducks inside when a bullet grazes her head. The mini-train dips suddenly at an odd angle, sending Pinkie Pie falling back first against the door, knocking it open. She seethes from the spike of pain in her back and groans as she pushes herself up, stopping when her hoof hooks into the seat's tail hole to glare heated daggers at her evil reflection.

“Well, now we're going to die because of you. Thanks a lot!” says Pinkie Pie angrily.

“Don't be so melodramatic,” remarks Pinkamena. “I told you we would die and-”

Pinkamena's sentence doesn't finish since the rear view mirror and her reflection get obliterated by a bullet from a barrage of silenced gunshots. Pinkie Pie has to close her eyes and dip her head, though, since the gunshots are sending splinters and broken glass to fall around her. When the shooting stops, she lifts her head and tries to see what's going on, but all she sees is a shot up cabin and an elevator shaft.

“Thanks, guys! My reflection was getting annoying!” shouts Pinkie Pie with genuine gratefulness.

The vehicle lurches again and Pinkie Pie screams as she tumbles out, crying out in pain when her back smacks against the wall after a failed attempt to grab the door. She dips a dozen feet before she manages to grab the wire with her hoof and teeth, and tears are squeezed out of her eyes when her sore shoulder hits the wall. She dangles there for a few seconds, grunting and groaning as she wraps the wire around her hoof to pull herself up, but she stops when she hears the League of Justice ponies up top talking.

“Push harder!” barks one of the terrorists.

“It won't fit!” says another.

“Then blow it up!”

“Oh, great,” grunts Pinkie Pie through gritted teeth while doing one last wrap for the wire around her hoof. The sharp pain in her shoulder and the superior pain in her back brings more tears to her eyes, and she looks up at the mini-train, crying: “Seriously, guys!”

Outside, Trixie speeds towards what is left of the barricade. The League of Justice terrorists are still recovering from the unexpected crash, but Trixie is worried about Pinkie Pie since she saw her mini-train drive into the lobby, but keep on going until it disappeared from view. The closer she gets, the more her heart races and the louder her nagging doubts become about the plan Pinkie Pie cooked up at the last minute. When she is almost upon the terrorists, she can see their eyes widen and their movements become frantic as they try to recuperate from the previous crazy run through.

“This is such a bad idea,” groans Trixie.

One of the terrorists shoots at the bee, and most of the bullets bounce off of the hull, leaving little dings and scratches in the paint, but a few hit the bulbous front tire and another few hit the windshield. The tire explodes and the windshield shatters, sending shredded rubber and shards of glass flying, and the bullets thump against Trixie's armor. They don't breach the Mare-Do-Well suit, but to Trixie, each shot feels like a solid punch with a metal hoof, and with the tire completely destroyed, she loses control.

Shrieking at the top of her lungs from the frightening blur her world has become, Trixie has no idea what is going on. All she really knows is that once everything has straightened out, her head is swimming, her legs feel like jelly, and she is no longer on her bee and lying on her back. The vehicle, she sees, is in the lobby with parts of it trailing up to it, and the six guards are converging on her with their weapons raised. She tries to stand proud and strong, but she stumbles and falls over to the side, groaning and swearing from how sore her whole body is. But she finds out that the only damage her suit has is scratched paint and some rips in the cape. She can't help but think how amazing it is that her suit held, that is until she gets a melee to the back of her head when she tries yet again to stand. The strike is hard enough to send her crashing into the pavement and leave her ears ringing, even though in her state they didn't have to try very hard.

“Who the hell are you supposed to be?” sneers the terrorist that hit her, smirking when the others laugh.

Snarling and with a burst of adrenaline fueled by anger from being laughed at, Trixie pushes herself up and in the blink of an eye, she turns and punches the terrorist that struck her in the throat. The terrorist gags and stumbles back, clutching her throat, and Trixie wraps her hoof around her neck and punches her one, two, three times in the face before releasing her and letting the fourth punch finish her. Each punch is met with a crack and a small spurt of blood from the mare's busted nose and mouth, and the fourth punch sends the mare flying and she lands on her back, knocked out with a face drenched in blood.

“I'm Mare-Do-Well, bitch!” proclaims Trixie defiantly.

Then there is a puff and Trixie cries out as a slug punches her armor. It doesn't breach, but it is still painful, and when they all shoot her, it feels like getting ganged up on by metal ponies punching and kicking her. Trixie collapses to the ground, biting back the tears and stifling her whimpers as she curls up on the ground to comfort her sore body. But they still shoot her, and when she feels a bullet breach her suit and imbed itself in her shoulder with burning results, screams in pain and her horn emits a burst of energy that blows everyone and the everything around her away, leaving a ring of bareness. Each terrorist flies off in their own direction, but one hits the brick wall of the Spire with a crunch and lands limply to the pavement, and another lands on her head, also becoming limp upon impact. The remaining League of Justice ponies land in awkward positions, but still shift and moan in pain after landing. Trixie pushes herself up and tries to stop the bleeding by pressing her injured shoulder. On top of the pain in her shoulder, it feels like her horn has been touched by a red hot poker and the sweat coating her face is making for an odd feeling. A moment later, Trixie silently observes the damage she did, but growls irritably when she sees the remaining three climb to their hooves with shaky legs and an eagerness for round two.

“Great,” huffs Trixie.

The terrorists raise their weapons and Trixie tries to ignore the pain eating at her shoulder when she gallops to the closest of the bunch. The terrorist's eyes widen when she leaps towards him and he tries to shoot her, but she rolls underneath his shots and comes to her hooves next to him and punches him in the jaw. He stumbles back with a bloody mouth and takes a swing at her with a snarl, but she blocks it, grunting in pain from the strain on her injured shoulder. The stallion uses his other hoof to take a swing and Trixie blocks that one as well, leaving them on their hind legs. Trixie then spins the terrorist so that he is in front of her right as the other two fire at her. The stallion yelps and spasms under the shots ripping into him, and Trixie grimaces under her mask from the blood spraying on her suit. Trixie then uses her telekinesis to push the corpse to one of them, and as the one hit with the dead body tries to recover, she charges the other. Trixie's new target is a pegasus reloading her weapon, and when she realizes that Trixie is coming for her, she goes airborne, only for her to be wrapped in magical aura and slammed into the pavement. The pegasus thrashes and cries in fear and pain as she tries to break free from Trixie's magical grip, but she is relentless and swings the pegasus by her tail a few rotations before flinging her down the road. The pegasus bounces and skids across the road for a few dozen feet before coming to a stop, leaving a trail of blood and feather in her wake. Trixie then grabs a piece of her bee and marches towards the last terrorist. When she is near him, he manages to get the corpse off, but is greeted by a metal plate to his face that sends him back to the ground with a generous amount of his teeth leaving his mouth.

Trixie exhales and throws the metal piece away as she quickly limps towards the Celestial Spire lobby, cringing and cursing under her breath from the shoulder injury. She carelessly steps on the broken glass and wood that is littering the tile, and follows the tire marks straight towards the mini-train that is still stuck in the elevator shaft and being guarded by three more terrorists.

“'This will be a great idea', she said. 'They will never see it coming', she said,” grumbles Trixie angrily. “'Just follow my lead and everything will be dandy'. She didn't even follow her own plan!”

Trixie hops with tantrum stomps, whining and swearing, and grinding her teeth from the surges of pain storming through her limbs and body. The terrorists still don't notice her, or the sparks of electricity slithering from her horn and singeing her fedora and shot up armor.

“Yeah, nice going, Pinkie! Way to stick to the plan!” pouts Trixie.

One of the terrorists stops what they are doing and looks at Trixie. She is about to warn the other two, but Trixie wraps her in an electrical haze and flings her into the wall across the way, sending out a puff of broken brick and plaster when she hits. The mare collapses to the ground, limp as a doll, and the other two turn around and aim their weapons at Trixie after their brains take a few precious seconds to comprehend what had just happened. Within those few seconds, Trixie is able to charge her horn and when the terrorists aim their weapons at her she tugs the mini-train down on them. They can't even scream before they are crushed. Once that is said and done, Trixie drags the mini-train out the rest of the way, grunting and digging her hooves in the tile like she is pulling the giant vehicle out with a rope. When it finally slides out, Trixie collapses, panting, shaking and sweating profusely with her glare focused solely on the cabin of the vehicle. After taking a few seconds to catch her breath, she forces herself to stand up and marches towards the damaged vehicle.

“You got a lot of explaining to do!” says Trixie furiously.

She yanks open the driver door, expecting to see Pinkie Pie in there, but all she sees is a shot up cabin covered in broken glass, splinters and chewed up foam. She cocks her head, murmuring to herself as she climbs inside, thinking that Pinkie Pie might be in the back seat. After finding out she isn't, Trixie hops out and turns to go to the elevator shaft, thinking the worst, but her worries are put to rest when Pinkie Pie climbs out with extreme difficulty and tightly gritted teeth. After pulling herself out of the shaft, Pinkie Pie rolls on her back, panting, shaking and staring wide eyed at the ceiling.

“That... was... a... stupid plan,” pants Pinkie Pie.

“I told you it was dumb, but you didn't listen to me!” says Trixie as she briskly walks to her. “How long were you in that shaft?”

Pinkie Pie takes a deep breath and cringes when she rolls to her hooves. She sways in her spot and Trixie runs over to keep her steady, which she thanks her with a grateful smile.

“Way too long,” says Pinkie Pie with a painful grunt. “Hanging in that elevator shaft was not fun at all.”

“Was that part of your plan? Driving around in the lobby pretending to be drunk just so you can crash into an elevator shaft?”

Pinkie Pie winces as she gingerly rolls her shoulder. “Not really. I kinda lost control and, um, yeah. My bad. C'mon, we got some meanies to stop.”

Pinkie Pie then puts her hoof around Trixie's shoulder and gently guides her down the main hall, towards a decorative sun on the wall. Her steps are marked by winces and barely heard complaints, and Trixie's anger is quickly replaced with worry. A few steps in, Trixie stops and puts her hoof out in front of Pinkie Pie.

“Are you okay, Pinkie?” asks Trixie with concern.

Pinkie Pie nods and slumps to the ground and leans over with her eyes squeezed shut as she tenderly rubs her shoulder.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” she says with a wince. “You wouldn't happen to have some pain pills with you?”

Trixie shakes her head and Pinkie Pie sighs disappointingly and slumps against the wall, just to chuckle cynically. Trixie looks over her shoulder to make sure nobody is coming before she looks at Pinkie Pie again. Her friend is hunched over, still laughing, and running her hoof through her deflating mane, though Trixie hears the pain in her laugh and notices tears dripping to the tile.

“Well, that sucks. The one time I need a pill junkie to have some smack she doesn't have any,” complains Pinkie Pie lightly after wiping her nose and eyes.

“Hey, I don't do that stuff on the job!” states Trixie defensively.

Pinkie Pie takes a deep breath and apologizes. She then wipes her mane back and sniffs before looking at Trixie.

“Trixie, can you lean close to me so I can whisper something to you?” says Pinkie Pie.

Trixie blinks and looks around again to make sure the area is clear before leaning closer to Pinkie Pie. When she is close, Pinkie Pie asks Trixie to take off her helmet, and she complies after hesitating, and when her eyes, coat and mane are exposed to the world, Pinkie Pie smiles softly and leans against the wall.

“You got your father's eyes, you know that right?” says Pinkie Pie.

Trixie scowls and stands up in a snap. “That was creepy.”

Pinkie Pie snickers. “Sorry, I couldn't help it. When I was putting your suit in your room, I noticed how much you and your old man looked alike and I thought I should bring it up before we split.”

“Gee, thanks,” scoffs Trixie sarcastically. “And we aren't splitting up! We're improvising! There is no way you-”

Trixie yelps and nearly falls on her face when Pinkie Pie's hoof wraps around her neck and tugs her down. Trixie's ears droop and she whimpers quietly when she sees the same predator look Pinkie Pie got when she failed at Bon Bon's store. Pinkie Pie is shaking and thick beads of seat are dripping from her mane, but even then her grip is still solid and shows no sign of wavering.

“I screwed up, Trixie,” confesses Pinkie Pie grimly. “But we still have to split up. If I go with you, I will just slow you down. You have to stop the League and I have to make sure the signal gets out.”

“But-”

“No buts, Trixie! I can't go with you. This is something you have to do without me because that is the plan!” Pinkie Pie then sighs and releases Trixie and slouches against the wall with her eyes closed. “Look, before all this crap happened, I thought the League was planning something big, and I was trying to prepare you to stop this, which was mean on my part. But I never would have guessed that they would go this far. This is humongous! I'm sorry I played you like a toy, Trixie. I'm super sorry, actually. But all our little adventures led to this moment, and as insane as things have been, I hope that you can call me a friend because I think you are the second best friend I've ever had.”

Trixie does a double take, and when the words of Pinkie Pie's confession and her position on the friendship chart sink in, the claws of disappointment squeeze Trixie's heart in a terrible grip.

“Who's your better friend?” asks Trixie, her disappointment creeping in her tone.

Pinkie Pie smiles nostalgically. “That'll be Dashie. Or Rainbow Dash. She likes being called 'Dashie', though. It's kinda her nickname-pet name-unofficial first name rolled into one. But she only likes being called 'Dashie' by me for nicknames, 'Dashie' by stallions on Frisky Fridays for the pet name, and 'Dashie' by her mom for her unofficial first name.”

Trixie is about to make a comment about Rainbow Dash's fluid nickname, but her thought process is interrupted when Pinkie Pie pulls her close again.

“Promise me you two won't be mean to each other when you meet again,” begs Pinkie Pie.

“Well, I don't know. Rainbow Dash doesn't really like me. None of your friends like me, actually,” says Trixie as she pulls away from Pinkie Pie's surprisingly light grip to rub her shot shoulder.

“Fluttershy likes you.”

“Fluttershy likes everypony.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, just give Dashie time to warm up to you. A friend of mine is a friend of hers after a trial run. But whatever you do, do not call her 'Marian' or a lesbian. She really hates that. Especially the 'Marian' part. Just ask Lucky when you go back to Ponyville.”

“Uh... huh. Look, I really should go and stop the bad guys, now.”

“I'm just telling you so you two can be friends. I really hate it when my friends fight.”

“Yeah, I get it. But you don't have to worry about that because you are going to help Rainbow Dash and your other friends like me when this is all over, got it?”

Pinkie Pie reluctantly nods and Trixie smiles and helps her stand up after putting her helmet back on. Pinkie Pie stretches herself out and sighs blissfully when her back cracks loudly, reminding Trixie how much she hated that sound, and when the pink pony straightens herself out, she rubs her shoulder again.

“Are you sure you can do this?” asks Trixie worryingly as she puts a comforting hoof on Pinkie Pie.

Pinkie Pie smiles confidently at Trixie, albeit with a lot pain behind it, and she puts her hoof on Trixie's shoulder. Trixie looks at Pinkie Pie's hoof, then back at her and sees her eyes shining with tears.

“Of course I can. I'm Pinkie Pie,” says Pinkie Pie with feigned confidence, then she turns Trixie around smacks her rump, eliciting a surprised yelp and jump from the unicorn. “Now go forth and kick butt, Trixie style!”

Trixie nods and gallops down the hall, but slides to a stop when she hears Pinkie Pie call her. She turns around and sees Pinkie Pie standing proudly with the light of the setting sun bathing her to give her a mystical appearance.

The Element of Laughter flashes a weak smile and says: “They'll write about this one day. You'll see. It's gonna be awesome! Now go and kick butt for real this time!”

Pinkie Pie salutes and Trixie blinks once more, but still returns the salute, and when their hooves drop, Pinkie Pie gallops away from Trixie and disappears in a stairwell. As soon as the door slams shut with a metallic bang, Trixie sighs heavily and gallops down the hall to meet her fate.

Author's Notes:

Day off. On meds. What can possible go wrong?

Next part should be coming soon. Hopefully.