The interrogation room was bare, the pale gray paint on the walls fresh and even so as to deflect interest. The single lightbulb in the ceiling cast the small room into harsh white light. There were no windows, and the only door had a frosted glass window. Even the Investigator that was questioning Tandem Check was uninteresting; a gray-maned, dull black-coated earth pony with a wrinkled face, tired pale blue eyes, and an old, dusty trenchcoat that clung to his bony frame. The only object of interest within the room was a styrofoam cup of steaming, coal black coffee that the Investigator, whose name was Hidden Trail, had brought in with him. He raised the cup and took a long sip, studying the notes that were spread out across the table. Behind them, standing post next to the door, a stone-faced unicorn Guard watched in silence.

"So that's all you're going to tell me?" Trail asked in a quiet, rough voice.

"All for now," Tandem Check replied. He sat across the table from Trail, his hooves shackled and his body clothed in an orange jumpsuit. "But if you're interested, I could give you some more."

Hidden Trail placed the coffee cup on the table and leaned forward. "In exchange for what?" he asked flatly. He knew how this song and dance worked.

Tandem Check smirked. "I can give you Zugzwang."

Hidden Trail blinked, a spark of interest glimmering in his eyes. "Is that true?"

Tandem grinned. The fish was taking the bait: the glory of being the one to take down Zugzwang. "I worked with him for almost two years. In that time, I got as much dirt on him as he does on me. I've kept notes of everything I've ever done with him, just in case we had a falling out. They're in my safe at home, but you won't be getting into it without my help."

Trail lifted up his pen, pressing the nib to the paper. "How do we get into the safe?"

"Not yet," Tandem replied coyly. "Let's talk about a lowered sentence first—"

There was an earsplitting crack that seemed to shake the entire room. Tandem Check slumped backwards, a blood-spattered hole carved into his forehead, just above his left eye.

His ears ringing incessantly, Trail jumped and whirled around, knocking the coffee cup all over his notes. He had all but forgotten about the Guard at the door, who was currently holstering a smoking revolver, his expression just as stony as before.

"You're my witness," the Guard told Trail before the latter could speak, his voice somehow cutting through the ringing in Trail's ears. The Guard extracted two objects from his saddlebags. "He pulled out a knife and tried to attack you. I was forced to shoot him in self-defense." He held up the items he had taken from the bags. One was a ruby, as bright and vivid as a flame frozen into solid form and as large as a hoof.

The other was a photograph of Trail, beaming up at a young filly with a golden coat and bright bubblegum pink hair that was riding astride his shoulders, both of them smiling from ear to ear.

Trail looked from the photograph to the revolver to the City Guard's face, which was as impassive and unreadable as stone. He could hear the sound of hoofsteps rapidly approaching.

He swallowed and nodded. "To Tartarus with it," he sighed, holding out his hoof and taking the ruby. "I'm too old for this."

The Guard grunted and put the photograph into his saddlebags. He then took out a shank, a makeshift knife made out of a scrap of iron, and placed it on the floor, next to Tandem's body.

The spy smirked as he did so. Tandem Check hadn't forgotten his place; he had never learned it in the first place, nor had he learned the rules, especially the most important rule of all: if a pawn becomes a liability, a danger to its master, then it must be sacrificed to the enemy.

Author's Notes:

Surprise, everyone! I know it's been over a year since I came back to this story, but I was thinking about it today. The idea for this chapter, which explains Zugzwang's motives more clearly, was born and demanded to be written down as soon as possible.

I hope that you enjoyed it!