The brown stallion walked alone through the dusty outskirts of his hometown, his Cutie Mark bearing the symbol of a bow and arrow. He glanced up at the town hall’s clock: Twelve-thirty am. He shook his head and unlocked the door to his house.

“Hope I don’t wake anypony.” He mused, opening the door with a creak. He flicked on the light, and stepped back in shock at what he saw before him.

The furniture was thrown across the living room: and several shattered lamps and vases decorated the floor, with several books and cooking utensils also scattered about. The pony’s head reeled with several different possibilities: either some creature or other from the Everfree might have crept in, looking for an easy meal. Or maybe, by some twisted fate, there was a…

“Where is it?” hissed a voice from the other room: the sound of it reminiscent of a chill winter wind.

“… A burglar…” The stallion whispered, breath hitching in his throat. He dimmed the lights, creeping towards the room in which he heard the voice. His heart was beating at an accelerated rate by now: for a pony who would commit a crime such as this was a rare and dangerous breed, and not usually a threat to take lightly. He grabbed his bow and quiver, and jumped into the room: aiming the weapon towards where the voice should be.

“Don’t move! Else you find an arrow in your--!”

Before he could finish, he felt a sharp, icy pain in his side; and collapsed on the floor with a shout of agony.

“Sorry, old friend.” Said the raspy voice, seeming coldly pitiful. The stallion would dare say the tone it took was compassionate, even, as a hooded creature walked around from behind him:

“I wasn’t expecting you to be back until tomorrow. I thought she would trust you to keep the gem in here... yet I have not found it anywhere.”

The pony shivered from a cold that seemed to penetrate his essence as the cloaked being stooped over him like a shadow: spheres of burgundy fire shone where its pupils should have been.

"Where are my wife and tenant?” the wounded pony demanded, fearless in tone and strong in spirit. The creature's eyes locked gazes with the stallion’s, and it let out a chuckling hiss.

“They’re… incapacitated.” It said, the flame weakening. It saw the horror in its victim’s eyes, and decided to speak again: “They are merely comatose in the next room, they’ll live.” It reassured before standing straight, and walking towards a window.

The man was strangely comforted by the being’s words, albeit suspicious whether what it was saying was true. He tried to push himself up, but his hand slipped in something warm and he hit the ground with a crack. He looked down and was stricken with horror to see the floor slick with his own blood.

“You’re leaving me here to die?” he cried after the shadow, hoping against hope for aid from the beast.

The being looked back to him, and produced a bow from inside its cloak. “Of course not.” It assured, sadly, before diving out the window: and shooting a shimmering arrow into the sky.

A blinding light blazed up and lingered- as if a star had fallen from heavens above- as several voices cried out in surprise. The crippled pony opened his eyes once more in shock, and looked around: the shadow long gone.

Mac was awakened by a blinding whiteness that penetrated his eyelids, and seared his eyes: which was followed only a moment later by a horrified scream.

“Rainbow Dash!”

Hearing his friend’s name said with such fear snapped Mac into reality like a slap to the face: he looked towards the blazing light with concern in barely enough time to see a Pegasus falling out of the air.

Fearing the worst, and giving no second thought: Mac leaped off of his cloud, and took to the air. He swooped down like a hawk, leaving behind a smooth arc of black and purple, and caught the pony with all four hooves before pulling her back to his cloud.

Once he was certain that the mare he snatched would not roll off, Mac rolled her over to check er for a heartbeat, and was astonished to find that it was Myra that he had snatched from an early obituary, instead of Rainbow. He looked back to see the blazing light grow dim, and then vanish completely in a puff of green smoke.

He heard noises coming from his left, so he looked down, and saw Rainbow Dash and two others he didn’t recognize being hauled off on white chariots, with several ponies in white hats following close behind.

Just before he turned back to his friend, however: he though he saw a hooded shadow watching from a nearby alley. But once he looked again, the shape was gone, leaving him to attribute it to a nighttime illusion. At that moment, Myra woke with a start: nearly kicking Mac off the cloud.

“Where am I?” she gasped.

Ignoring her question, Mac ushered her to the edge of the cloud, and showed her the scene below. “No time for that now, who are they?” He asked in concern, pointing to the group beneath them. Myra, much to his relief, just let out a thankful sigh.

“Oh thank the King!” she smiled, “It’s the Hospital!”

Mac had returned his attention back to the crowd below when he heard Myra say something that caused him to freeze: “You remembered how to fly! And you… just… saved my life!”

When Mac’s muscles relaxed, he searched his head for an appropriate answer. His duty of thought was relieved by a nearly forgotten voice speaking into his ear:

“Say someone else did.” Orion stated.

Mac contemplated the options for a second, wondering if this was an appropriate time to blow his cover. But he ultimately decided against it, deciding Orion knew when to move.

“No.” Mac said, trying to focus his gaze on anything other than her kind eyes. “No, I didn’t. Somepony else did.”

Myra's eyebrows rose, and she grew concerned: she could even swear she saw his colors shift slightly for a split second. She glanced down at the empty space on his rear. Slowly, she sat up, keeping a watchful eye on Mac the entire time: a look of horror on her face. She went pale, even for her, and the next thing Mac knew: she was unconscious… again.

That afternoon: Mac lingered in the waiting room. Laying on a bench, and stirring at the floor with his hooves. Expecting news on the well-being of his friends: both Rainbow and her landlady had been cuffed over the head with an old trophy. And the Landlord was with the Emergency Crew for a dagger wound to his side. A Nurse Redheart had taken charge of their care, and now walked out of a pair of double doors, looking for him.

“Mac Senseipony?” she asked.

Mac gave a nervous smile. “How’d you guess?”

Redheart looked around. “Let's see... you're the only one here, and we’re not usually this busy on weekdays.” She said dryly: pointing the way with her forearm. "Now come on: your friends want to see you."

Nodding slightly, Mac followed the nurse through a few short corridors. As soon as Mac went into the room where he heard Rainbow was placed, however: he was blinded by a purple light.

“OW! What the f--?!”

“Be careful of retinal scarring, Twilight!”

When the light passed his eyes, he rubbed them painfully while his vision cleared. Once he opened them again, he was stunned to see what looked like a miniature laser show emanating from Twilight’s horn. It probed over him several times before a lilac projection of a pony that resembled himself greatly rose from the floor and stood beside him.

Twilight walked up to the projection, and looked it over. “No signs of makeup, cloning, false personification, or other such Witchcraft.” She sighed, sounding partly disappointed. “Are you sure of your suspicions, Myra?”

Mac turned, and saw Myra  sitting on a chair beside Rainbow’s bed, glaring daggers at him. “Rainbow was right: he's not who he says he is.” She shouted. “Mac would never deny saving a life! He might avoid answering, but he would not deny it!”

“Calm down, Myra.” Said a cool voice from behind Mac, he turned to see a cyan-hued Pegasus with an orange-and-brown mane standing behind him. She had a small bandage on her head, but otherwise she seemed uninjured.

“Sapphire, let her rave.” Said the same voice that Mac heard when he awoke, he turned again and found that the auburn stallion from when he first arrived was lying in another bed: a red splotched bandage was attached to his side. “She’s obviously thought this through, and we all heard of what's happened to him lately.”

“Well, I just don’t see—“

Twilight interjected as she looked back to the projection: “Wait a minute, Sapphire. There’s something... different up here.” she said curiously, drawing everypony’s attention as she pointed at the head. “The neural passages are indicating a memory network: but why is this area highlighted? It’s almost entirely… the… same… as…”

Everypony looked at her in unison as she trailed off, her expression unreadable: “Whoa…” she started, before her voice faded away again.

Mac walked over to her and glanced where she was looking, only to see a visual presentation of his memories playing like a home movie in front of Twilight’s eyes: it was a particularly haunting memory, one he hoped he would never see in video form Only, much to his bitter amusement, this one was… ponified.

He was confronted by the image of a young colt, clinging for dear life onto a hoof that came from the left; Mac recognized it as his own. The youth was dangling over a churning river.

“Help me!” the lad screamed, over and over in a ghostly, childish voice. Another arm reached in from the left and grabbed Mac’s own, the vision shifted to see an Alicorn clothed in white: it nodded reassuringly and pointed to the stormy waters below.

Mac looked back down at the colt in desperation, and noticed that its face suddenly resembled his own. He then cried out in horror, “You want me to let myself fall?”

A voice as calm as the summer sky, spoke. “You will not fall, if you but release yourself from your own fears. You will see what truly awaits you at the end.”

Mac knew instantly what he was seeing, and held up his hoof. “Hey, hey, hey! My nightmares are my business, no one else’s.” he said, waving dismissively at the image.

Twilight stared blankly: “I-I-I had… no idea.” She said slowly, raising a hoof to her head, “I-I-I just, never knew that you struggled with these.” Her eyes were wide with curious admiration.

“Now I’m convinced he’s not Mac!” Rainbow said, crossing her arms and staring at him, “If our Mac suffered from nightmares constantly, he would have told at least one of us!”

Twilight ignored this, and looked out the window: “I’ve got several books on dream interpretation in my personal library, maybe one of those might help?” she offered.

“You’re not really thinking of comforting this jerk, are you?” Rainbow rolled her eyes.

“Who’s to say he’s not Mac? He was gone for six weeks! Do you know how much change can occur in six weeks?” Twilight retorted.

“But that dream…” Fluttershy said softly, “When is the earliest incident?”

“Okay, fine. That might be worth checking into.” The Alicorn admitted, before running her horn through the projection of Mac’s neurology.

After three minutes of deathly silence: Twilight opened her eyes, and immediately shot them icily at Mac. “Eight weeks ago.” She hissed, glaring at him with mistrust. “You're right: He’s a fake.”

Mac raised an eyebrow. “Is it time?” he asked, remembering the discussion from before he went on his mission.

“What do you mean?” Twilight asked, angry and still disordered by the vision.

“It’s not like we have a choice!” Orion laughed wholeheartedly: unable to withhold his enthusiasm.

“Good!” Mac grinned. He looked over at his friends, who were all staring at him in confusion.

“Twilight," he barked, "alert the Princesses: I’ve got a tale to tell that’ll tie their tails in a knot!” Next Chapter: Chapter Five: The Albatross. Estimated time remaining: 3 Hours, 27 Minutes