In the morning, Pinkie Pie woke up with an intense shiver: one that shook the ground of the camp, awaking the others.

“T-t-the P-p-palace o-of t-the R-r-royal P-p-p-pony Sis-is-is-isters-s!” she screamed: trembling like a Chihuahua in a blizzard.

“What?” Applejack snorted, wiping the drool off her bottom lip: awakened by Pinkie’s sudden outburst. “Ah wasn’t asleep, an’ y’all can’t prove it!”

“What in the Hay?” Rarity said, poking her head out of her tent again. “Are we taking turns making random comments again, dearies?”

Myra stepped up to Pinkie, and tried to hold her still for a second. “What’s at the palace, Pinkie?” She asked calmly.

“Key-whosa-meanie…” Pinkie shuddered, slowing herself down so she could sit still.

All froze. Twilight especially looked concerned:

“It… it can’t be that easy… can it?” She asked. “Your Pinkie Sense didn’t warn us about Tirek… why is it working now?”

“I dunno,” Pinkie shrugged, “I don’t have control over it, silly!”

“Should we contact the others?” Rarity offered, lighting her horn.

“Yes,” Twilight confirmed, “we’re going to need all the help we can get to capture this villain.”

“What about that big rainbow thing we did to Tirek?” Pinkie asked. “Can't we do that to this meanie?”

“I’m not entirely convinced that we can summon that at will, Pinkie,” Twilight explained, “the rules on those powers are still unexplained to us…”

“Plus, we tend to unnerve ponies when we go around looking like that.” Rainbow said dryly. “We nearly gave poor Spike a seizure!”

Twilight nodded to Rarity, who shot a flare spell into the air.

The group then headed towards the old palace, hoping to meet the others on their way.

Mac’s party landed in the dark wood just before the next daybreak, weary and sweaty from nineteen hours of straight flight.

“Why… didn’t we… slow down… even once?” Wooden panted, resting on his knees. Steam hissed from his nostrils with each breath.

“We’ve… got… too much… at stake…” Mac replied, his heaving breath resembling the growls of an angry bear. “Too many…are… in danger… for us… to rest… like… tired foals.”

“We are… tired foals.” Wooden groaned again, massaging his left wing. “We’ve been flying across… plains and forests all day, a little rest will allow… us to go further later than we could now.”

“Wait.” Orion hissed in warning. “Does anyone else see that?”

He didn’t need a verbal answer to know that they were seeing the same thing he was once they looked: numerous serpentine shapes, like slimy tree roots, slithering across the underneath of the floor of the clearing that they had landed in. They could see them moving across the mud like snakes under glass, and they knew what came next…

‘Never trust a clearing in the Everfree.’ Mac thought, laughing inwardly. ‘By God, what unholy mess have we gotten ourselves into?’

The answer to his silent question soon became apparent to them as twenty-five dragon-like heads emerged from the mud that surrounded them: each head supported by a thick, writhing neck.

“Hydras,” Orion scoffed, “looks like it’s gonna be a close one, boys.”

The Hydras did not attack, however: they just stood there, glaring at the four ponies who had so rudely interrupted their sleep.

“Figures,” Wooden sighed heavily, “the minute we land after hours of flight, we’ve immediately got to start wrestling monsters.”

A dark voice cackled from the thickets: it's tone and laughter so deep and confident that it took the four aback.

“You seem to have discovered my little hideaway… how unfortunate.” the racking tone chuckled as an armored being stepped out of the shadows of the trees.

“Kietelethar,”

Mac had just spoken what they were all thinking as the monster stepped into the sunlight: Kietelethar now wore a large, steel helmet that seemed to amplify every putrid and fear-inducing feature on his scaly face. He carried a large spear of reddened steel, and a staff of similar metalwork was clenched in his remaining hand. He made no effort to hide the disappointed look on his face, however, when he saw the four battle-ready creatures that were in the center of his trap.

“I was expecting—“

“You were expecting us?”

All turned to see a circular formation of six Ponies floating in midair: colorful energy circling through the five on the outside.

“Oh…” Kietelethar started, raising an eyebrow.

Arcs of white, yellow, pink, orange, and blue light funneled from the five into the one in the center, before shooting forth from her horn in a rainbow-like arc: and barreling straight for the unflinching demon.

“... brother.” He finished, turning his back on the approaching ray of raw energy. It hit him hard enough to cause him to stumble forward, and a fierce white light surrounded him. Mac let out an excited cheer, but stopped himself short when Kietelethar laughed from behind him.

“Did you really think I would go down that easy?”

Mac whirled around in time to narrowly dodge a sweeping blow from a ridiculously large black sword by leaning back. An intense stinging sensation like fire burned at the tip of Mac’s nose, and a warm liquid was flicked across his right cheek as he fell on his back. His opponent raised the massive weapon above his head: ready to cleave his former student in two. Suddenly, a burst of green flame assaulted the looming figure from the side.

Mac clenched his jaw at the agonized shriek that followed. He stood up, nodded to Spike, and waited for the next assault.

Sure enough, his attacks kept coming:

Mac was soon dodging two massive hammers, while the Bearers were kept busy firing rainbows at every Prophet that popped up. The others were engaged in battles of their own, ducking blades and fleeing fireballs.

“This little game is far more amusing than I thought... I was sure at least two of you would have fallen by now.” The villainous voice said from above, as the latest Prophet dove from the sky: twin swords aimed directly at Spike.

Spike narrowly dove to the side in time to dodge the attack, and the enemy simply vanished into the mud. A cry that sounded as if it came from the earth itself resonated through the clearing:

“Take care of them, my minions! I have more pressing matters to deal with.”

The Hydras then lunged in to the conflict heads-first: waving their necks to and fro in an attempt to either trip up anyone slow enough to encounter them, or swallow any who were unfortunate enough to come near their jaws. A few of the heads snagged some of the Prophet’s clones while others lunged at the ponies in their thirst for blood.

The Bearers simply dove in and out of the fray: snagging their comrades out of the ugly scene before any major injuries could occur. The Hydras spat and snapped at the fleeing ponies as they trampled after them.

Mac looked back in time to see that one of the Main Images of Kietelethar had been turned to stone, and looked like he was about to laugh. While another was merely a shaped pile of ash and charred bone. Their cruel weapons were sill gripped in their hands. The third rose from the mud as if he were riding an elevator, smiling evilly. Several smaller images in similar ruin were strung across the mud, along with a few empty scorch marks on the ground.

As soon as Mac’s head ceased reeling, at least enough for him to remember what the feathery limbs on his back were for, he took off on his own: and they had soon reached the outside of the forest.

Then: Pinkie's knee pinched.

“Look out!”

Everyone wheeled around in time to see Pinkie Pie become encased in… something black, and almost abyssal. They all froze in terror, for on the hill underneath them was something shaped like a Pegasus, but it looked like a massive solution of tar, ink, and smoke. It raised its ‘hoof’: summoning a forest of black tentacles of similar construct that shot out of the earth, and looped themselves like snakes around the pitch-like sphere that had encompassed their friend.

“Your sacrifice… is greatly… appreciated.” Groaned a shrill voice, sounding like it was as horrified as they were. And it was heavy with effort.

“Sorry,” Mac yelled, pawing a hoof on the earth. “But you can take that idea, and screw it u--”

Everypony was glad that no foals were around to hear the slew of indecent language that followed, and Myra covered Fluttershy’s ears.

Mac charged the inky shape, and gave a tremendous leap. Soon, two black shapes went tumbling across the field: leaving behind an empty, Pegasus-shaped shell of black ooze still standing on the hill. Mac opened his eyes, only to find himself looking in a mirror. But his reflection had its eyes closed.

“What the--?”

Mac was cut off by a surge of pain that instantly overtook his right eye. He lifted his hands up to nurse it, but next thing he knew: he was rolling across the dirt, his entire face aching from the vicious blow.

“Foolish human.” Said the voice again. I was clearer now, but sounding more pained than threatening. “You should have stayed in the citadel!”

Mac recognized that voice, but he couldn’t place where from. He stood up, only to find the same reflection he saw earlier.

“Alright, dispense with the mirror, you coward!” He screamed. “Fight like a warrior, not like a sulking snake!”

When his reflection didn’t mimic his screams, Mac became aware of the lack of a scar on it's nose, as his still burned. Instead: it tilted its head and gave him a sad scowl, eyes still closed. Black tendrils emerged from behind it, surging like an oily flame as its mouth moved: but this time, Mac realized the voice as his own.

“Take our friends, all of them, and run.” He hissed.

The black shapes lunged at Mac, only to suddenly stop: quivering and jerking like they were being pulled back by chain. He looked up, and saw Pinkie racing back to the others, who were all looking at the unfolding scene in horror. He looked back to the… whatever he was, and saw sweat dripping from his brow. His teeth were clenched so hard from the strain, Mac swore he heard cracking. The stallion opened his eyes, revealing two balls of fire blazing in their place, and focused directly on the Stranger:

“I can only hold these things off for so long, you moron!” It hissed, causing Mac to jump back at both its tone, and the eerie echo that it held. “This fight is for another day..."

Mac just stood, stunned by what he was seeing, which only angered the creature more:

"RUN, FOOL!”

Mac didn’t need to be told twice: he immediately flew off, urging the others to do the same.

After they had returned to the Albatross, the faithful ship was set for Canterlot, and each pony was absorbed in their own thoughts. None more so, however, than Twilight.

“Threads…”

Applejack gave Twilight a confused look: she was dully gazing off the side of the airship, eyeing the scenery below with a blank expression.

“You okay there, Twi?” Applejack asked, placing a hand on the entranced Alicorn’s shoulder.

“Mac, he… he used the Dark Threads… so effortlessly.”

“They were using him!” Mac snorted as he slammed a fist into the table. His anger nearly peaked when he received no more than a bunch of clueless stares. “He held them back so that we could escape! I saw the effort he was giving out to keep us safe: he even screamed at me to get out of there!”

“But… that doesn’t make any sense!” Twilight lamented. “Sombra was the last pony to channel the Dark Threads, and we all know how that ended for him!”

“Don’t say it!” Myra warned.

“Yes... they’re still trying to find his scattered remains.” Fluttershy finished, looking at her hooves in dismay. “I still can’t believe we were capable of aiding such a thing...”

“But… there has to be a way to change him back… right?” Myra protested hopefully.

“Forget it, Myers." Rainbow said sadly. "There is no way we’ll be able to detach him from that...”

Twilight nodded. “We… might have to… to…”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence: everyone knew what came next. The air on the ship grew heavy.

“You may have to what? Destroy him?” Mac snorted, drawing a shocked look from all present. “I know you all have given up a lot to defeat the powers that now possess Mac, and I’ll wager you all suffered innumerable near-death experiences, but I’ve never seen you give up on someone so easily. Let alone one of your own friends!”

He stood up as he ranted, and slammed his hoof though a nearby wall: causing the others to jump back nervously.

“I’ve failed myself too many times in my home world to back down on this, and I’m not going to give up on him so easily… he can be changed back, and I know it! I made a promise, and I’m not giving up!”

Myra walked up and stood next to him. “Then neither am I!”

Zecora and Rainbow were the next ones to cross over to his side, with cries of “Good!” and “Count me in!”

Orion and Patient were soon by his side as well, and so it was: five for and five against, with Spike indecisive in the middle.

Applejack sighed. “In all honesty, I do like Mac as much as… most of ya. But Sombra couldn’t be saved, and we had to destroy him to save the Empire.”

“Actually, that’s… um… something I’ve been meaning to bring up…” Fluttershy said, her voice unusually quiet.

“What are you talking about, Flutters?” Applejack asked softly.

“Well, we never actually tried to save him: we just… blasted him as soon as he showed his face, and before any negotiations were established, thinking he was beyond help. And the Crystal Ponies haven’t found even a hint of his remains… I think he might still be out there.”

Mac pulled his hoof out of the wall, gazing thoughtfully at Fluttershy.

Twilight raised her head up, and looked back out to the scenery. “That makes... an alarming amount of sense, actually.” She said flatly. “Maybe he’s perfected his dark transformations, and is masquerading as Mac.”

Mac shook his head, “No, I’d know if that… thing was me or not. He just felt… it felt like we had a connection.”

“What do you mean ‘A connection’, Clone Boy?” Rainbow asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“I mean a similarity between our atmospheres, if you will.” Mac explained, brushing the sawdust from his hoof onto the floor. “There was something familiar about him, other than physical appearance.”

“I get that, but, how could you feel something in our world that we can’t?”

Everypony turned to the baffled boy, and his gaze dropped to the floor. “I… I don’t know, Dash… I just… I just don’t know…”

All fell into a thoughtful silence after that. A silence that lasted until they reached the citadel. Next Chapter: Chapter Ten: An Old Foe Defined. Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 20 Minutes