It was almost as if the mist hadn’t been there at all with how quickly it dissipated, seeming to fade back into the walls from whence it came. In its place there stood a slender stallion, bronze-coloured coat iridescently reflecting in the low light of the room. His torso shook as he trotted slowly forward, feathers shimmering as they shifted from side to side, and the sharp horn jutting out from his head seemed to loom menacingly over the group.

“Aeneus,” Grey said. He stood in front of Scootaloo and Flight, posing as if he were shielding them from Aeneus with his wings—even though he had none to speak of.

“Hello, brother,” Aeneus replied, stopping before them. His slender legs seemed shaky, barely able to hold him up, and yet he somehow had an aura of power and strength emanating from him despite this. Perhaps it was in the way his steeled eyes remained fixed on his brother, seeming to disregard the two smaller ponies as if they were nothing. “It’s been a long time.”

“It has, hasn’t it?” Grey replied. “And yet some things never change, do they?”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Scootaloo shifted, her hooves aching. “What do you mean?” Aeneus finally asked.

“You’ve still got that same flair for bravado you’ve always had,” Grey said, winking. “It suits you.”

Aeneus groaned. “Alright, whatever. We don’t have time for this screwing around. I need to act fast. There are a lot of folks whose lives are on the line, and whatever games you’re playing aren’t gonna cut it.”

“There are no games, Aeneus,” Grey replied. An odd look had crept onto his face, one of… wry familiarity. “I’m not working against you; on the contrary, I think it would be in both of our best interests if we talked together and came to some sort of an agreement.”

The stallion didn’t immediately reply. His eyelids narrowed and his pupils darted between the three of them. “I don’t understand,” he finally said. His breath lingered in the air, billowing out from his mouth with the three words.

“Again, we need to talk,” Grey offered. He took a light step forward and reached out a hoof gently in Aeneus’ direction—not a demand, but an invitation. The taller stallion eyed it carefully for a few moments, before shifting forward—and, slowly, he lifted his hoof to meet his brother’s. Nothing happened save for a small clack as their hooves met, but… something immediately felt brighter.

“Alright, talk,” Aeneus said, lowering his hoof after the moment had passed. “You say you have much to explain—so do it. I have much to get back to.”

Grey nodded. “I understand that you’re a busy stallion, but—”

“Brother,” Aeneus remarked, cutting him off. “I’m much more than a busy stallion. You do recall that you left, yes? You and Aureate went off to do whatever you went to do, but I? I stayed, and I cared for the ponies who live here. That is my highest honour as the reigning Prince—I lead the people, but I am a servant of them, and I do all that is within my power to steer the course of society towards everyone’s benefit.”

“And what is it that you think I’m doing that goes against that?” Grey mused. He gestured to the two smaller ponies beside him. “My associates and I do not seek to bring harm to any pony under your jurisdiction, nor besides—on the contrary, I have enlisted them to assist me in work of utmost importance to this system’s survival.”

“Do not think me blind, brother. Your ‘associates’,” Aeneus started, glaring daggers in Scootaloo and Flight’s direction, “have been working with the Rebellion from Revan. From the time Scootaloo arrived, she has had assistance time and time again from prominent traitors and spies. And, if eyewitness accounts are to believed, you should be counted among them.”

“You know as well as I do that sometimes we have to do what we can, and what we think is right in the grand scheme of things—not necessarily what seems like the best option from moment to moment.” Grey took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t doubt that you’re watching out for the lives of your citizens, and trying to do what you think is best for them. And I don’t doubt that you have serious concerns regarding the ponies associated with Rebel forces. But you know me, brother, and you know that I have the best interests of these ponies at heart—not just the ponies who live on Bureau planets, but the entire system.”

“With all due respect, Argent…” Aeneus replied, hanging ominously on that last word, “the ponies of these planets must be my priority. Maybe you forget—having been gone, gallivanting wherever you might have been—but this was the duty entrusted upon us, and that we all agreed upon. And I intend to uphold those promises, even as my brothers have shirked them.”

Grey—or Argent, as Aeneus had called him—remained silent for the moment. Scootaloo and Flight both watched as his eyes darted from the monarch before them to the darkened metal wall behind him and back again. “Aeneus,” Argent finally said. “Please, hear what I’m saying. I know that, when it comes down to it, I did break at least the letter of our agreement, and of our pledge. And for that… I’m truly sorry. It was thoughtless of me to leave you without even consulting you, especially so soon after our brother had his own disappearing act.”

“Damn straight,” the other stallion grumbled. His forelegs shifted, visibly, and even in the low light his metallic bronze fur glistened as it rippled.

“But I need to reiterate,” Argent went on, “that I did not just leave because I didn’t want to be there, or that I didn’t want to carry out my duties of protecting our citizens. You are aware of the research I was doing involving the balance of harmony in the system, yes?”

“I do recall something of the sort,” Aeneus replied, though his expression had not changed. “And does this have to do with why you left?”

“It does, in fact,” Argent replied. “The scientists I was working with, at the Northern University… they had been tracking the levels of harmony for decades, watching as they remained fairly stable—until suddenly there was a large drop-off, just within the space of a year. And not in an isolated area, either; this was system-wide, around every planet, with no warning whatsoever.”

“Really?” Aeneus asked. He was obviously still trying to keep his countenance of irritation, but there was a touch of genuine concern that leaked into his tone. “I mean, ahem… if this was true, why did you not discuss it with me? Why did you not take this to the Council, or at least a meeting between the three of us?”

Argent sighed. “I should have, I really should have, and that I regret. You were always the one most vested in running the country, dealing with the day-to-day problems—and I didn’t want to worry you with something like this, especially something which… couldn’t easily be solved, something that would become just another problem to hang over your head. So I talked to Aureate, and told him what I knew.”

Flight gasped, causing everypony to look at her. “Is that… is that why he left?”

Argent nodded, solemnly. “He had already been reclusive up to that point, acting strange and whatnot, but I didn’t put the pieces together until… well, until he was already gone.”

Aeneus’ expression was hard to read—besides that he was lost in thought. “And you went after him, then?”

“Sort of.” Argent took a deep breath. “I went to look for him, sure. But I also sensed the presence of an old friend, trapped in an unusual place, and I spoke with her for some time. And, of course, I needed to get a firsthoof look at the different planets, seeing how they were affected by the drop in harmony—if at all.”

“This friend…” Scootaloo piped up. “Was it Princess Luna?”

“Indeed,” Argent replied, looking down to the orange pegasus filly at his side. “During her banishment to the moon, once she had regained enough energy, she sent out a distress beacon, a magical signal only us alicorns could feel. And so, over the years, I travelled many times to Saros to visit with her, and hear what she had to say as well as keep her up to date with what was going on in the outside world.”

“What did she tell you?” Aeneus asked. He no longer looked irritated—merely curious.

“She told me of the Nightmare that had come to infect her, and how Celestia had banished her away to Saros to keep the chaotic forces at check. And she told me of Discord, a strange being that had come to their planet a millennium before, wreaking chaos across the planet until she, Celestia, and Chrysalis were able to seal him up in stone. And, as far as she could tell, these were not isolated incidents.”

Scootaloo’s eyes went wide at this, but nopony seemed to notice—nopony besides Flight, at least, who was giving the filly beside her an odd look. Aeneus was focused on his brother, however. “Alright, I think I’m starting to get the picture. There’s something larger here, something to do with the forces of harmony throughout the system, and something that somepony needs to deal with, for the sake of the Bureau, and Equestria, and everypony else.”

“Exactly,” Argent said with a nod. “And while I haven’t been the most forthcoming about this—and still, there are details that I do not yet have the time or the means to go into—I hope that, as your brother and a loyal defender of this planet and the ponies that live here, I am somepony you can trust to take care of this, in the ways I see fit. Please, trust my judgment.”

Aeneus tapped his chin with a hoof, eyeing both Scootaloo and Flight before looking back to Argent. “And what of Aureate? He too was my brother, and a sworn defender of the ponies on this planet, and he too disappeared without warning. What makes you so different from him?”

Argent sighed. “You haven’t changed, brother. You’re right; perhaps I am like him. All you have to go on is my word.” He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but quickly closed it again.

“A-and mine!” Scootaloo interjected. Both Argent and Aeneus immediately looked over to the filly. Flight facehoofed. “No, really! I guess I don’t know all that much about the history between you guys, but this Grey—uh, Aureate—dude has been super nice to me, and a huge help in keeping me safe.”

“I assure you, you were not in any danger, at least not from any of my ponies,” Aeneus said flatly. “But I understand where you are coming from, and it is true that I have no real reason to doubt him. Plus, if what he is saying about harmony is true… then somepony needs to take care of that, and I am far too busy with the running of the planet.” He sighed. “So, tentatively, you may go.”

Argent looked down to Scootaloo and Flight with a warm smile; they returned it, weakly. He looked back up to his brother. “And?”

“And?” Aeneus inquired, looking surprised. “And what?”

“I assume you have stipulations,” Argent explained, “at the very least because I would in your position.”

“Ah, fair enough,” Aeneus said, nodding. “Yes, I do. First of all, I need you to lay low—at least for the time being, until I can talk to the Council. Because I will be filling the Council in on this, whether you like it or not.”

“I expected as much,” Argent replied. “We will make our way off-planet as soon as possible, and wait for further instructions.”

“Thank you,” Aeneus said. “Now, as for your companions… I must request that you cease communicating with the Rebels immediately. We will keep Ms. Even Later and Mr. Clove Hitch here in our custody, although I assure they will be treated according to the proper procedures of Bureau criminal justice. My main concern is not letting traitors walk free, and causing any more harm.”

Scootaloo stepped forward, an angry expression on her face, mouth open, looking ready to object. But Argent stretched out a hoof in front of her, giving her a sympathetic glance, before looking back up to Aeneus. “We agree to those terms.”

“What?” Scootaloo hissed. “But Later… and Clove…! They’re our friends, dammit—we can’t just abandon them here!”

“Scootaloo, please,” Argent said solemnly. “I understand that you’ve become very close with these ponies, but there’s nothing we can do about it for the time being.”

“Again, I mean them no personal harm,” Aeneus offered, “but I can’t let them go free and then run back to the Rebels, at least not in good conscious. They’ve hurt ponies, Scootaloo, and letting them free would just open the possibility that they would again.”

“They’re not bad ponies,” Scootaloo huffed, and she stared down to the floor. The butter yellow pegasus next to her looked from Aeneus to Argent with an uneasy expression, and then put a foreleg around Scootaloo’s shoulders. Scootaloo, for her part, ignored her.

“So, is there anything else?” Argent finally said, breaking an uncomfortable silence. “Or shall we go outside the city, and make our way off-world.”

“That should be fine,” Aeneus replied, nodding curtly. “I will contact you if anything changes.”

“Thank you, brother,” Argent said, stepping forward, but the bronze-coated alicorn had already turned tail and vanished into a cloud of mist, just as quickly and mysteriously as he had appeared. “Ugh. The guy always had a flair for bravado, let me tell you.” He looked back to the two younger ponies.

“Um, Prince Argent, sir,” Flight said, nervously.

“Please, please, just call me Grey,” Grey said, waving a hoof. “No need for the formalities.”

“Well, um, Grey…” Flight continued. “What… about Kevin?”

“Kaylee,” Scootaloo growled, though her purple mane hid her face from view, muffling her voice. “Use her name or nothing at all.”

Flight bit her lip. Argent sighed. “That’s where we’re off to now, actually. Please, take hold of my hoof”—he stretched out a grey foreleg in front of him—“and I’ll teleport us out of here. I’ll explain once we’re outside the city limits.”

Flight immediately stretched out her hoof, tip meeting Grey’s. After another uncomfortable moment, Scootaloo pushed back a strand of magenta hair and looked up at Grey—and he could see how much worry and hurt those violet eyes still contained. Still, Scootaloo raised her hoof, slowly.

Immediately after Scootaloo’s hoof made contact with Flight’s and Grey’s, the three of them blinked out of existence in a flash of silver light. And the metal room in the belly of the palace, one of dozens, lay still and empty once more.