Author's Notes:

Hi! I just thought that I'd say I will be focusing on this story more than my others, meaning most of my chapters that I write will be coming out primarily for this story. I'm not sure when, if it all, I will write chapters for my other story. I apologize for the length of the story, but I assure you, it is worth the read. Also, the therapy sessions that happen between Starlight and Pinkamena will be happening in their own little chapters, not in normal chapters. Otherwise, please tell me if you spot any issues like grammar, plotholes, etc. And enjoy!

P.S. This is the first chapter my editor helped me with, so you can probably expect this kind of quality consistently for the rest of the chapters.

P.P.S. I made a lot of references to a lot of things this chapter because why not? Some of them obvious, some of them not so obvious. Good luck finding them all.

Beeping.

That was the first thing she heard when she woke up, the steady beeping coming from the machine hooked up to her that told her heartbeat, letting her know she was still alive. That was the only sound she could hear at first, the rest of the room seeming to be almost completely silent. Then, as she slowly regained consciousness, her enhanced hearing allowed her to pick up a second heartbeat in the room. It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place who it was. She could tell that whoever it was, was sitting right beside her in a chair. Meaning she was likely in the infirmary again, and whoever this was, was here to watch over her.

She hadn’t opened her eyes, not yet. Pinkamena wanted this person to think she was still asleep, at least until she could tell what state her body was in, she has no idea how long she’s been out. She could feel the IV needle in her left arm, along with a set of clothes that weren’t torn apart. More importantly, her necklace was still there. She didn’t feel any contusions, abrasions, or any other injuries. Besides some soreness, particularly in her arms and chest, she felt completely fine. Well rested, even. That might be thanks to Alice.

Alice.

She remembered what happened with her, which was surprising. She wasn’t sure if Alice would let her remember or not. At least she gave her back the memory of the movie she couldn’t remember, ‘Alice in Wonderland’. That would have seriously bothered her if she hadn’t. Though it made her slightly concerned about how easily they could take certain memories without her really noticing, Discord was likely the only one who could help her with that, and the only one she could really talk to about The Whispers that understood what she was talking about.

She wasn’t sure how she was expected to ‘work on her mental fortitude’, as Alice put it. Maybe Discord can-

Her thoughts halted when she felt a hand touch her necklace, trying to wrap their hands around it and open it. Almost like a reflex, her right arm quickly grabbed the arm by the wrist, pulling it off the necklace. She didn’t use her chimera strength, didn’t feel like she needed it. It seemed to be enough to elicit a gasp from them, though that was likely just from surprise. The gasp sounded feminine, meaning the person was likely a female.

Simultaneously as she grabbed this person’s wrist, both her eyes shot open, the pupils constricted but didn’t have any problems focusing. They locked on to the person sitting beside her, glaring at them threateningly.

Starlight Glimmer sat in a small metal chair beside her, wearing the same clothes as before and looking almost exactly the same. The only difference now was that she was looking back at Pinkamena with slightly widened eyes and an agape mouth, wearing a ‘deer caught in the headlights' expression.

“Don’t touch that.” Pinkamena said sharply, letting go of Starlight’s arm.

She quickly pulled it back, rubbing the red marks left by her grip as she held her arm close to her chest. She looked at Pinkamena for a few seconds, the initial surprise fading away. Starlight moved her gaze to the necklace again, seeming curious more than anything.

“It’s very pretty, what is it?” Starlight asked hesitantly, whatever it was clearly had some sentimental value. And, most of the time, that meant it was usually a sensitive subject.

Pinkamena looked away from Starlight, turning her attention to herself and the environment. She was wearing the same clothes she was when Pinkamena was fighting Michael, though these ones weren’t torn apart. Sans her hoodie, which she guessed was under her bed like last time. Meaning someone, likely Starlight, put them on her. She was even in the same infirmary-like area she woke up in last time when Juno dragged her in, though she felt significantly better now than she did then. With the exception of feeling slightly nauseous and dizzy due to when Starlight shot her full of Carfentanil. She was still feeling the after affects slightly, so she can’t have been here that long.

Pinkamena wasn’t mad at Starlight for shooting her, though she felt like she should be. She...lost herself a bit in that fight with Michael, fucking him up like that may have been justified, but he’s too important to The Syndicate to kill. Besides, it was likely that even if Starlight hadn’t shot her, The Whispers would have stopped her before she killed him. Though she noticed him stab himself in the neck with a syringe full of what looked like very thick blood, some kind of battle drug, maybe? It didn’t matter; she needed to focus on the now.

“Off limits. What happened after you shot me?” Pinkamena asked in a slightly passive-aggressive tone, sitting up and closing her eyes as she did, trying to ignore the oncoming headache. Though her long, straight pink hair covered most of her face.

Starlight cringed slightly out of guilt, but didn’t seem to react in any other way. She let go of her wrist and lay them both down on her lap, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath as if to calm herself down. From the way Pinkamena could hear her heartbeat slow down, it seemed to work.

When Starlight opened her eyes again, she did so with a slight, almost comforting smile.

“Michael was immediately taken to a different area of the infirmary and put under so they could do surgery on him, he was hurt pretty badly and was touch and go for a bit. But he’ll live. He won’t be able to lift anything heavier than fifty pounds for a month or two, and he’ll have to go through extensive physical therapy for the next two weeks, which he’ll hate. But, he’ll be fine. As for you?”

Starlight’s eyes looked at Pinkamena’s body, slightly amazed at how undamaged it seemed. She knew that chimeras had exceptional healing capabilities, but she’d never seen it in action before. She had seen her entire body when she had dressed her, even got to see some the injuries heal as she did. But it was still amazing and hard to believe.

“Physically, you’re fine. If I hadn’t been there myself, I wouldn’t have believed you had gotten injured at all. No, it’s your mental health I’m concerned about.” She said as her eyes slowly moved back up to her face, glancing at the necklace once more.

Pinkamena’s eyes opened as she looked at Starlight, her eyes only half open as if she were barely paying attention. Despite her hair covering most of her face, her eyes were still visible, along with the look of annoyance on her face.

“I don’t think I’m any more fucked up than the rest of the people in this place. But hey, you’re my therapist.” She said sarcastically, though her stare never left Starlight.

After hearing that, Starlight leaned down and pulled something out from under her bed.

It was a skeleton mask, Blake’s mask, to be specific.

She had almost forgotten about it, she must have left it in the pocket of her hoodie when she took it off. Her eyes widened slightly as she looked down at it, but quickly returned to their half lidded look.

“Ok, it’s a skeleton mask. So wh-”

“This is Blake’s mask.” Starlight said with emphasis, throwing the mask in Pinkamena’s lap as she did.

Pinkamena looked at the skeleton mask in her lap, and it seemed to look back at her. As she did, the memories of the way he tortured her fresh in her mind, even with The Whispers always in the back of her mind.

Sometimes, when she let herself think back to the torture, she could almost still feel the pain.

“Blake used to wear that mask when he tortured people, he must have done the same with you. This is just a guess, but I would imagine looking at that mask will always remind you of what he did to you. I can think of a couple of reasons of why you’d want to keep something like that with you, none of them good. Please, prove me wrong.”

Starlight waited for an explanation, a look of concern on her face as she did.

Pinkamena picked up the mask, holding it in her hand as she looked down at it. She may want to consider painting the mask, she wasn’t aware as many people knew this was Blake’s mask that did. She really didn’t want people thinking she was Blake, that might have been worse than knowing the truth.

“I didn’t want people, specifically Applejack, to know who I was just yet. I still needed to work out how I was going to deal with that. So I took his mask-”

“There are literally hundreds of thousands of masks in this place alone, not even counting the ones you could just buy from a store. But you chose that one, the one worn by the person who tortured you.”

She didn’t say that as an accusation, she said it as a fact, like she knew it was true. Pinkamena glanced at her, before quickly looking back down at the mask.

Why did she take this mask? At the time, she just needed a way to hide her identity. But she chose Blake’s mask, even though she knew there were other masks. Why? Something else, besides her necklace, to remind her of who she was? Or was it to remind her of her father, all the pain he put her through, so she’d never forget her hatred for him?

Pinkamena closed her eyes and sighed, perhaps she had a bigger problem letting things go than she realized.

“All right, since you seem to know everything, why don’t you tell me why I took it?” Pinkamena said frustratedly, putting the mask back in her lap as she did.

Starlight reached into a pocket in her black vest, pulling out the small, dark blue book she had seen when Michael threw her in the meeting hall. The pencil was in the book, which was at the page she opened to. She looked down at it as she pulled the pencil out, reading something off the pages.

“Initially, I was thinking something like Stockholm Syndrome. But after reviewing how you treated Blake when you woke up, I’m inclined to believe that wouldn’t be very accurate.”

She said, more to herself than Pinkamena, as she wrote something down. Before bringing the pencil to her mouth and biting the eraser as she looked at her book in thought, contemplating ideas as she seemed to zone out.

The book she was holding reminded her of Discord’s book, though hers was somewhat smaller. In his book, she assumed he kept scientific experiments, among other things, in them. But since Starlight was more or less the therapist for this place, she likely kept notes on certain people, and just their overall psychological profile.

Which meant she had Igneous’ profile in there, potentially along with details about any events that would have affected him.

That thought made Pinkamena curious, making a mental note to swipe that book from her if she got the chance. Or, at least attempt to convince her to let her look in it, though that seemed unlikely.

“Then, after meeting you, I began to think you simply had a masochistic personality. But I decided it was more self destructive in nature, which I deduced from the way you seemed to just throw yourself into risky situations even though there were other options; meeting Applejack alone, for example. A self destructive nature born from guilt due to feeling like you were unable to save your sisters even though you were literally incapable of helping them, or perhaps some other repressed emotion like depression or a feeling of uselessness, weakness, or something of that nature that was brought to light due to recent events?” She said in a scrutinizing tone, her voice not being muffled at all despite having the tip of an eraser in her mouth.

At the mention of her sisters, both of her hands gripped the sheets tightly as she felt anger boil up inside her like hot water. But, she said nothing. Mostly because she was biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood.

She really needed to work on emotional control, she couldn’t afford to nearly lose her self just because her sisters were dead. It was done, she killed the man who killed them. She could continue blaming herself and feeling guilty about it all she liked, but she didn’t need to attack others at the mention of it. She needed to learn self control, what happened with Applejack can’t happen again.

Starlight noticed this shift, her gaze briefly moving upwards from her book to Pinkamena. Her glare seemed affixed to her as she stayed silent, almost like she was analyzing her. But, realizing how long she had been doing this, she quickly redirected her attention back to her book.

“Then...then came the fight with Michael. I know that wasn’t your fault, you did not initiate that fight. But...there was a point in that fight where you could have ended it. Or, at least would have made it clear you had no intention of fighting. It may not have seemed like it, but I had things under control. Instead, you…” She let out a loud sigh as she closed her eyes, pulling the pencil out of her mouth and then putting it in the center of the book as she closed it. She slowly put it back in her pocket as she looked up at Pinkamena.

Pinkamena noticed this and turned her hood to look at her curiously, her grip slowly loosening on the sheets. First she looked at the book, then back at Starlight, who seemed intent on keeping eye contact.

“You became...consumed by bloodlust, exhibiting symptoms of psychosis, hypomania, cyclothymia, and that’s just from a first impression! Not just that, but you were erratic, unpredictable, willing to hurt yourself in extreme ways just for a chance to hurt your opponent, I’m not even sure where to start with some of the things you said. I may not know you very well, but after attacking Michael, you were different. Almost like...a different person.”

Pinkamena’s attention was now fully on Starlight, though her gaze made it seemed like she wasn’t very interested. So far, nothing she said has been false, most of it had even caught her interest. Then again, she knew some of it could be chalked up to The Whispers. Even so, she couldn’t deny the possibility that she was directing a lot of the blame for her mental issues at The Whispers. Yes, they would surely cause some, assuming they haven’t already.

But that didn’t mean she was completely free of mental issues beforehand, and Starlight maybe her only chance of someone who could help her.

“What...exactly are you saying?” Pinkamena asked cautiously, she had a feeling she knew where this was going, and she really didn’t like it.

There were a few moments of silence as Starlight hesitated to answer, “I...I believe, as a coping mechanism, you developed a split personality in those woods. At first, forming when you found your sister’s corpses. But the more you went through, the more dominant it became. This part is just a hypothesis, but I think it is normally dormant. It flares up in times of high emotions, likely in correspondence with your Chimera abilities. Which makes an...extremely dangerous combo, I’m almost afraid of what would have happened if I hadn’t stopped you.” She mumbled the last bit as she looked away from her, not wanting to keep eye contact anymore.

The Whispers.

That was what she was talking about, The Whispers.

They had immense influence over her, she wouldn’t be surprised if they were capable of just completely taking over her body. Even if it wasn’t all of their memories, the parts she does have has clearly affected who she is, she just wasn’t sure to what extent. The fact that they could pick and choose what memories they want her to keep, and that they can essentially take away her ability to feel emotions whenever they felt like it. Worse, they could make her feel all of their emotions, which was something even though they barely had control over. And that’s just what she knew so far, she had next to no idea just what they were capable of.

It was the correspondence with her Chimera abilities that worried her.

Pinkamena looked away from Starlight, turning her attention to her hands. She raised them closer to her face and turned them around, looking at the center of her palms as she opened and closed them.

Could they...force a transformation? Any time she’s transformed, it had been times of high emotion, sometimes even with their influence. But if they were to push immense emotions onto her, could they...make her lose control? Push her to kill someone she didn’t want to kill? If they did, what would stop them from taking that memory away, not even knowing it had happened?

How did she know that it hadn’t happened already?

That was a terrifying thought, she needed to see Discord, he was the only one who cou-

“Though I’m not factoring in the effect The Whispers may have on you, I would need to talk to Discord to get an extensive list of potential mental issues they can cause.” Starlight mumbled, likely not intending for Pinkamena to hear her.

Pinkamena’s eyes widened in surprise when she heard this, her head turning towards Starlight fast enough to give her whiplash.

“How do you know about them?!” Pinkamena asked angrily, very nearly screaming the question.

Starlight’s eyes quickly constricted in fear, putting her hands out defensively in front of her. “Woah, calm down! I only know about them from Igneous, though I didn’t realize you called them that too.”

“Too? What do you mean?” She was under the impression that there were only about three people who had the displeasure of The Whispers being injected into their brain like a virus, and none of them had been recent.

“You...don’t know? I figured Discord would have told you, huh.” She said as she pursed her lips, seeming genuinely perplexed.

“Know what?” Pinkamena asked as she turned her entire body to Starlight, her legs dangling off the side of the bed.

Starlight looked back at Pinkamena, initiating eye contact again as her face relaxed. “Igneous had...well, as he referred to it, asked Discord for a ‘trial run’ with them. He began calling them The Whispers because he said they were constantly whispering in the back of his head, at least that’s what he told me.” As she said this, she reached back into the pocket of her book. She flipped it open to page the book was on and looked down at it, flipping through the pages until she got to a certain one. She then began tracing the words with her finger, as if she were looking for something.

“Wait...Igneous wanted The Whispers to be put in his mind?” Pinkamena asked in disbelief, her eyes widening slightly in surprise.

Why would Igneous want The Whispers? He had to know what they were, right? Maybe not, she was only forced to have them put into her because she killed him. Why would he want them? Why didn’t Discord tell her? This made little sense.

The fact that they both ended up calling them The Whispers hadn’t escaped her, nor did the fact that they never mentioned this to her.

“Well, sort of. Discord apparently made some improvements on the helmet that holds them and puts them in, he said he was initially trying to figure out if it was possible to extract them from a still alive host. He couldn’t. He did however find a way to temporarily inject them into someone, by preventing them from being able to permanently attach to the host, causing them to eventually just fade away.” Starlight explained, though it seemed to be more like she was saying it from memory rather than whatever she was reading from her book. “As far as I know, he’s only been able to make it temporarily last a month. But since Igneous volunteered to be the first ‘test subject’, as Discord put it. Since Igneous was the leader at the time, he didn’t want to put him at too much risk. So he only did it for a week and did daily test on him to make sure things were kept stable. That’s actually how Igneous and I started our sessions. Even before I was a part of The Council, after graduating from college, I was...attempting to fix crime issues by stabilizing and fixing their mental issues, I was very naïve.

I ended up getting involved in some Syndicate stuff, but Discord saw my potential. So, it was either get wiped off the face of the planet by The Syndicate, or help Discord keep track of Igneouss’ mental state and keep notes on exactly what effects it had. I’m still here, so I’m sure you can assume what choice I made.”

“So, basically a trial run of The Whispers? Heh, if I had known that was a thing and had a say, I likely would have picked it.” Pinkamena mumbled to herself as she brought both of her hands up to her hair, moving it out of her face and behind her head.

“There were some...complications, but it went exceptionally better than Discord expected. He didn’t kill himself, at least.” She said cynically as her finger reached the bottom of the page, flipping to the next page as she continued to look for something. She gave a slight, triumphant smile as her fingers stopped, seeming to have found whatever she was looking for. “Found it! Now, I only know the effects of them being there temporarily. I don’t know the difference, if any, in having them as a more permanent thing. I’m not even sure whether or not they’ve allowed you access to their memories yet, they were extremely hesitant to do so with Igneous, and they didn’t even know they were there temporarily.” Starlight explained as she looked up at Pinkamena, quickly turning her attention back to the book. She began tracing her finger along the words as she read them.

“Known possible effects: Excessive paranoia, hallucinations, temporary loss of motor functions, complete loss of motor functions, temporary cognitive decline, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, brief catatonic episodes, identity crisis, frequent brain aneurysms, prone to outbursts, insomnia, increasing cases of sleep paralysis, clear gaps in memory, mood swings, talk to self when though to be alone, pervasive distrust and suspicion of others, hesitancy to confide in others, lack of interest in personal and social relationships,

a tendency to be alone, limited range of emotional expression, appearance of being cold or indifferent to others, odd perceptual experiences, such as hearing voices, others calling your name, etc. Persistence with lying, stealing, conning, using aliases, etc. Aggressive behavior, disregard for the safety of self or others, lack of remorse for behavior, fragile self-image, intense fear of being abandoned, ongoing feeling of emptiness, frequent displays of intense anger, arrogance, desire to be in control of people, tasks, and situations, and a near inability to take direct guilt without at least an attempt to put it on someone or something else.”

By the time Starlight was done she was almost completely out of breath, the finger that had been tracing up at the end of the next page.

“Well, there are a couple more. But they, uh, wouldn’t apply to you.” She mumbled sheepishly, pulling her hand out of the book and shutting it as she did.

Pinkamena had been listening quietly, slouched over the bed with her eyes closed, her arms gripping the bottom of the bed. She had been making a mental list as Starlight spoke, checking off all the ones she thought applied to her or she had exhibited before. So far, the majority of them applied to her, though it was difficult to pin down what was because of The Whispers.

She had a lot of questions, for Starlight, Discord, The Whispers, and anyone that would have the answers she was looking for. But, most of those she could try to get out of Starlight during their ‘therapy session’. Discord was a coin toss, he might answer some of them, he might not. And The Whispers will only let her know what they want her too, so out of the one hundred questions she could ask them, they might answer one if they’re in a good mood.

There was, however, one question she was particularly curious about.

“Who did he hallucinate?” Pinkamena asked as she opened her eyes, causing Starlight to shift her attention to her.

“What do you mean?” Starlight asked curiously, putting the book back in her vest for the second time.

“The Whispers...don’t just take any random form, they’re far more manipulative than that.” As she said this, she felt a strange...pressure building in the back of her head. Almost like a migraine was coming, though it didn’t seem to progress more and stayed at a point of tolerance. “They take a look into your memories and take the shape of someone you know, which can be someone you hate or love, it is one of their best ways of holding influence over the host.

As she talked, the pressure seemed to get worse, slowly turning into pain. It was slightly worse than a typical headache, but there was something about it that felt...familiar.

“Hmm, I don’t believe he ever told me. Though, there wasn’t a lot he could tell me about The Whispers. They seem to be very selective on who gets to know what about them, there were some things they didn’t seem to really care if he told others about. But if he tried to tell me something they didn’t want others to know about, they’d cause a brain aneurysm. And, thanks to him being a chimera and having exceptional regenerative capabilities, they could do multiple of them and not risk him dying. It was a huge pain to work around.”

Brain aneurysms.

That’s what he did to her whenever he snapped his fingers, either to prove a point, or just when she was annoying him. That would explain why it felt so painful, and why The Whispers were able to do it. They were connected directly to her brain, who knows what other agonizing things they could do to her whenever they felt like it.

Now that she thought about it, a brain aneurysm might have been the simplest of their parlor tricks.

“May I ask who The Whispers appear as to you?” Starlight asked, seeming genuinely interested.

“I...don’t think-” As Pinkamena spoke, the pain got increasingly worse, as if The Whispers were warning her to be careful on what she decided to say. “They wouldn’t like it very much, neither would I enjoy the brain aneurysm. Can I just go now? I’d like to get home and get some actual sleep.” Pinkamena said as she jumped off the bed, lifting her arms above her head as began to stretch. Reaching under the bed and finding her hoodie like she expected to, quickly slipping it on.

“Ugh, figures, they never make things simple.” Starlight mumbled frustratedly. “Anyway, you can’t go home, not yet. After what happened, we’re going to go to my office and have our first session. Discord won’t allow you to leave until I give him a mental evaluation, and I’m inclined to agree.”

Starlight quickly stood up, turning towards Pinkamena as a scowl formed on her face. “Then, after we’re done, you are going to go apologize to Michael! I’m sure after you apologize, he will as well. Besides, you still need his permission if you want to Juno off of you. You have to talk to him. And, considering he’s on painkillers, injured, tied down to the bed, and there are at least two guards in that room at all times, I don’t think you two will be fighting again.” Starlight declared.

Pinkamena’s fist clenched at the mention of Michael, having begun to develop a resentment for him. It was true, they had started off on the wrong foot. But it’s hard to like someone when they beat the shit out of you and try to kill you because you killed someone they wanted to kill, the fact that The Whispers didn’t seem to like him either was certainly a factor. She had to admit, he was very good in a fight, even without his mechanical advantages. Plus he was a part of The Council, which meant he could be useful.

Pinkamena bit the inside of her cheek as she grimaced, as much as she might have disliked it, she needed to make things right with him. Or, at least make sure he won’t be actively trying to kill her.

“After that,” Starlight continued, reaching into the other pocket on her vest and pulling out her phone. It looked like an iPhone seven, the case on it being a dark magenta with small, purple stars on it. Each star has two small, thick, curved lines connected to them in a cupped shape, the color of them being one side dark green and one side light green, almost like mint. It looked more like a phone that would belong to a twelve-year-old girl than her, and yet somehow it fit. “Discord wanted to talk to you in his office, wanting to ask about what happened probably. He also said he had some stuff he wanted to give you, and that you could leave after that.”

Starlight then turned on her phone and began texting someone, making an almost annoyed expression as she did, like the person she was texting was annoying her.

“So, a therapy session, an apology, and a lecture? Great,” Pinkamena said with a groan, getting another headache, though she was pretty sure this one wasn’t because of The Whispers.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby! It won’t be that bad, we can start soon. I’ll take you to my office. Just,” A scowl came on her face as her phone dinged, whatever text she had just read had clearly made her annoyed. “give me a second.” She grumbled.

Pinkamena looked at Starlight curiously, slightly intrigued at whoever she was texting. But, after a few seconds of just staring at her, she rolled her eyes and shrugged. It wasn’t something she was interested in enough to ask, and it wasn’t her business anyway.

“Sorry about that,” Starlight said as she sent a text and turned off her phone, almost angrily putting the phone back in the vest pocket she pulled it out off. “trying to keep an active social life while being a part of The Syndicate seems to be nearly impossible.” She grumbled as she slowly stood out of the chair, also stretching a little as she did.

“Come on, I’ll lead you to my office. But we’re not making a habit of this, so I’d suggest learning where it is now.” Starlight said with a content tone, the annoyed look on her face quickly disappearing and being replaced by her calm smile from earlier. She began to swiftly walk towards the door, walking past Pinkamena without even giving her another glance. She quickly opened the door and began to walk out, before stopping.

“I’m...going to wait outside for a few minutes first. I want to give you a moment to…” She turned her head slightly to the left, first looking at Pinkamena, as if analyzing her. Then she looked back at the bed, specifically at Blake’s mask, as she seemed to glare at it. “adjust.” She spat the last word out, almost like it hurt her to say.

Then, before Pinkamena could notice, she snapped back forward and walked outside, shutting the door behind her.

“Hmm, weird.” She mumbled as she turned her attention towards the mask, walking towards it. “This is just a guess, but I think Starlight has a strong disdain towards Blake. Though, after meeting him, I couldn’t really blame her or anyone else.”

Pinkamena leaned down and picked up the mask, both of her hands latching around the back of it. She lifted it up to her stomach and looked down at it, focusing more on the eyes than anything. It seemed to be looking back at her as she looked into it, almost looking into her soul itself.

She half expected The Whispers, taking the opportunity of her being alone, to show up and make the mask talk or something. But nothing like that happened. She had even almost expected Alice to show up, giving her some kind of lecture about how Starlight was right.

But that didn’t happen either, it was just her and the mask.

She considered whether or not she should take the mask with her for a second, wearing the mask of the man who tortured and raped her for a month may not have been good for her mental health.

She ultimately decided to keep it, it was less hassle just to keep using this mask rather than having to pick another one. She didn’t have the time nor the patience to look through a bunch of masks until she found one that she liked, it wasn’t worth it.

With a shrug, Pinkamena put the mask in her hoodie pocket, turning around and opening the door as she did.

As she walked through the door, she could’ve sworn she heard a little girl giggling.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The therapy session with Starlight was...interesting, to say the least. It wasn’t as unenjoyable as she initially thought it would be, though there were some parts where she felt Starlight was being...stubborn in her pursuit to get Pinkamena to open up to her. To be fair, that’s kind of what therapists are supposed to do, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

Pinkamena walked into a different part of the infirmary, the door and the room looking exactly the same as hers. The only difference being this one had two guards decked out in riot gear standing outside it, she wasn’t sure whether they were there to keep people out, or to keep Michael in.

They didn’t even look at her as she walked in, either they knew she was coming, or were trained to keep a straight face and focused attention like The Queen’s Guard.

Walking into the room, it looked exactly the same as the room she was in. Same white walls and white beds with blue sheets hanging from the roof between them, same lack of anyone else in the other beds. Same cabinets full of medicine, same IV stands, same everything really.

The only real difference was, instead of her in the bed with an IV in her arm, it was Michael.

He was very nearly too big for the bed, his ankles were dangling off the end of his bed, and his large arms hanging off the sides. His clothes had also been changed, he was now wearing socks that revealed feet just as big as the boots he was wearing previously. A pair of dark jeans had now replaced his pants, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt at all. Most of his upper body, like his right shoulder and chest area, were heavily bandaged. The only part of his body besides his torso that was bandaged heavily was his left knee, the one she had stabbed through.

There were a large pair of crutches beside his bed, she imagined he wouldn’t be able to walk without them for a bit.

Since he wasn’t wearing a shirt, she could now see just how battle-experienced he really was. From what she could see that wasn’t covered in bandages, he was covered in scars. Deep cuts, slashes and gashes, even some claw marks from what she assumed was from a large animal, or potentially a chimera, she wasn’t sure how many of those there really were out there. There were also parts of his body that looked almost...caved in? It was hard to tell, but it was obvious there had been some parts of his body that had been hit hard enough to where that part of his body was sort of pushed in. It kind of reminded her of those rubber toys she used to play with, where she’d push her finger on a certain part of it and push it in, just for it to bounce back to the way it was, though his didn’t bounce back.

She also noticed how incredibly muscular he seemed, ‘beef bus’ would be an appropriate term. When she said that his body was way more muscle than fat, she wasn’t aware just how much so until this point. His biceps, or just bicep since he only had one real arm, were huge and exceptionally toned. Along with the massive size of his hands, it was obvious this man was strong, even among bodybuilders.

The rest of his body was also in good condition, there was almost no fat on his body. He had a very toned looking six pack, and a body that looked like it was the peak humans could reach. Seeing him now made her realize just how much strength being a chimera really gave her. If she came close to beating someone like this, how strong would she become once she learned how to control herself? Once she unlocked further transformations and abilities?

Considering that Igneous had spent years as a chimera and likely mastered it, she’s realizing just how lucky she really got with the way she killed him.

Unsurprisingly, Michael still had his mask attached. Small puffs of white smoke came out of both sides of the gas masks in tune with his breathing, though they evaporated pretty soon after leaving. His eyes were clothed, and he looked very calm, he didn’t seem to react to the door being opened and closed. She was listening to his heartbeat, and it stayed at a rather slow pace. Meaning he was asleep, pretending to be asleep, or heavily sedated.

Quitely, Pinkamena walked to the side of his bed, pulling up one of the chairs to it and sitting down in it, making little to no noise.

Despite being nearly completely silent, Michael’s eyes quickly opened and looked at her when she sat down.

Somehow, this didn’t surprise her.

His head moved slightly to look at her, but other than that, he gave no real reaction. His heartbeat picked up slightly and his eyebrows furrowed when he turned to look at her, but he seemed to stay calm.

Pinkamena took in a deep breath before saying anything, she needed to handle this carefully. He was the last vote she needed, she at least needed to make him not want to kill her anymore.

“Look, I don’t like you, you don’t like me. I get it. And I...understand why you lashed out at me, I likely would have felt the same if somebody else killed him. Especially considering I killed him out of dumb luck, I’m only just recently realizing how lucky I really got. But, it was stupid. You shouldn’t have tried to kill me, and I shouldn’t have tried to kill you. It would have been terrible for The Syndicate to lose either their new leader, or one of the essential members of The Council, whichever of us would have won. And, well I..”

She was really bad at apologizing, it didn’t help that he was just staring at her without doing or saying anything. She nervously put her hands in her hoodie pockets, staring at the spot between his eyes as she talked to him so she wasn’t actually making eye contact, but at least looked like she was too him.

“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot, I don’t...hate you or anything. But I’m finding it difficult to like you considering you tried to brutally kill me. And I’m sure you don’t hate me either, your just judging me for the actions I took rather than who I am. So, think we could just...start over?” Pinkamena asked with an awkward chuckle.

There were a few seconds of awkward silence as Pinkamena just sat there waiting for some kind of response, which she never got because he seemed content at just staring at her.

“Uh, this is the part where you tell me yes, hopefully.”

He scowled at that as he turned his head away from her, focusing on the gaze above him instead.

“Breathing...hurts...talking...hurts more.” His voice was extremely strained and horse, other than that, he didn’t seem to show any signs of the pain affecting him.

Of course, why wouldn’t breathing and talking hurt? She couldn’t even remember how many times she hit him hard in the stomach, plus the fact that she tried to rip his heart out couldn't have helped.

“Oh...shit...I’m sorry. I have to admit, I did go a bit overboard.”

“Don’t...apologize...I am also...at fault...I...lied about...why I fought you...it was not...out of anger...but a test.”

Every time he talked, he had to inhale deeply between words, his chest rising and falling heavily as he did.

“A test? I already passed a test before. So what, did you want to test me for yourself?” She asked in an annoyed tone, she was getting really tired of being tested.

“No...a different test..I simply wanted...to test your abilities...if you were worthy...you’ve earned my respect.”

Considering how injured and weak he was, she was inclined to believe he was simply lying so she wouldn’t kill him. But considering she smelt no fear and his heartbeat didn’t increase at all, she believed him.

“So it takes beating the shit out of each other to the point of near death to earn your respect? I’m not sure that’s worth it.”

Something that sounded like a chuckle came out of Michael, though it also could have been him just attempting to breathe.

“Sound just like him...well...having my respect...means you get my....vote on getting...Juno off of you.”

That caught Pinkamena’s attention.

“I shouldn’t be surprised you knew that’s what I wanted. Just like that? You’ll give your vote?” She asked skeptically, she couldn’t help being suspicious at this point.

“Yes...with one condition...non-negotiable.”

Of course, things are almost never easy. Fancy Pants did it for practically free, but he seemed to be the exception.

“Alright, fine. What is it? Kill someone? Get you your protein powder? What?” She asked in an extremely irritated tone, she had enough to do already, she didn’t need more.

Instead of saying anything, Michael turned his head towards her. Then moved his eyes towards a small, metal table beside his bed, the only thing on it was a clipboard with a pen and a couple of pieces of paper on it the doctor must have left. She followed his gaze and figured out that he wanted those to write down what he wanted, so she bent over and picked them up and handed them to him.

He used his right arm to hold the clipboard steady, despite how much that must have hurt considering how damaged his shoulder must have been. And he used his robotic arm to pull the pen out of the top of the clipboard and began to write on the page, breathing heavily as he did.

“Take this...to Discord...He’ll give you something...I want you...to use it...in your next fight...I’m going...to give you...my vote...and trust you...don't ...disappoint me.” He said with a final deep breath, putting the pen back into the top of the clipboard as he finished writing out the word. He then ripped out the paper with the words on it and handed it over to Pinkamena, and then proceeding to toss the clipboard on the table it was on.

Before promptly passing out.

She didn’t realize that just talking, breathing, and writing could be so difficult while injured. She didn’t really get majorly injured at all in her life, rarely went to the hospital. Now with her accelerated healing factor, she’d likely never experience being that bed sick.

She looked down at the note, but it took her a few seconds to read out.

“Imperium? Is that some kind of element? Material? How am I supposed to use that?” She said as she looked down at the word on the paper, somewhat confused at what it meant.

She ended up just shrugging and put it in her hoodie, she’d ask Discord when she got there, along with the million other questions she had for him.

She sighed in frustration, why did everyone in this place insist on making everything difficult?

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Pinkamena hesitated.

She knew she’d be going to Discord’s office, but she had somehow convinced herself that his office was different from the one he had brought her too and turned her into a chimera.

But after seeing that the door that opened to his office was the same wooden door she had seen every time she woke up strapped to that metal table, that erased any doubt.

She hesitated to open the door.

No matter how strong she convinced herself she was, the things that happened to her and the things she did still bothered her, almost haunting her. She’d get over it, eventually.

She reached for the doorknob, stopping when she noticed her right hand was shaking before quickly pulling it back, just now noticing how erratic her breathing had become, almost to the point of hyperventilation. She felt her heart beat erratically as it began to hurt, panic and anxiety quickly beginning to fill her.

And, thanks to the mercy of The Whispers, all of it quickly began to fade away.

She felt that cold chill start to come over her body, a feeling of numbness she was becoming increasingly familiar with overshadowing anything she was feeling. Her right hand and the rest of her body stopped shaking, the feeling of panic and anxiety fading away almost as quickly as it came.

Pinkamena took a deep breath as she closed her eyes, almost finding herself thanking The Whispers. Before quickly opening her eyes again, reaching for the doorknob and opening in.

After walking in and closing the door behind her, she began to look throughout the room for Discord, before her eyes landed on what was in front of her.

The metal table she had been strapped to so many times was still, with the straps hanging to the side, almost waiting to hold down its next victim. It also looked like it had been recently cleaned, practically sparkling.

Looking at the table, she could almost feel what she had been put through on it. The feeling of sharp needles poking into her brain as that helmet was put onto her, the pain she felt when he sent electricity coursing through her, unable to even control her body as it thrash about on the table, sometimes even wetting herself as she lost control of her bladder. The smell of her flesh burning, very nearly biting off her own tongue on several occasions.

She likely would have had a panic attack if it weren’t for The Whispers wrapping their deathly cold hand around her heart, preventing her from feeling anything but a deep numbness.

All the machines that she had seen the first time she woke up, which the majority of them she still didn’t know the purpose of, were all still here. Though none of them seemed to be turned on as she didn’t hear the humming sound that came from them when they were, which would explain why the room was so quiet. She could see all of them too despite how dark the room was without a light, thanks to her improved vision.

Really, the only thing that seemed to be different was the color of the paint on the walls. Instead of being the color combination of pink and orange, it was a combination of scarlet red and plum purple, in the form of vertical stripes.

From how thick the layers of paint still smelt, it can’t have been longer than a day or two since they were painted, she couldn’t decide whether or not it was uglier than orange and pink.

As she looked around the room, she quickly spotted Discord, and the only source of light in the room. The NASA style supercomputer that was in the room on a small table, that she assumed was how Discord controlled the majority of his machines, was now turned on an emitting a bright blue light. Discord was sitting in a bright green cotton chair with wheels on it, leaning down as he seemed to be intently focusing on the computer. He had one hand on the mouse and the other on the keyboard, and though the hand on the keyboard wasn’t moving, there was an almost rhythmic clicking noise coming from the mouse.

She easily walked up to him and was now standing behind him, though he didn’t seem to notice her at all.

She was tempted to tap him on the shoulder just to scare him, but then she saw what he was doing on the computer.

The blue light coming from the computer was actually coming from around what he was doing on the computer, which was on a screen that took up almost half of the monitor. On this screen, Discord seemed to control a small, stick figure like character. Except the head looked more like an oval than a circle, the eyes looked too big and were bulging out of the head, the hands and feet were also just circles, and the character was colored in a light tan.

The clicking that Discord had been doing was apparently moving his character, a blue arrow that got longer the farther he wanted his character to go, and turned green whenever he wanted his character to jump showed which. The background of the game actually looked rather lively and colorful, there were several buildings and generic characters in the background as his character ran by.

She knew they were generic because of the way they looked compared to Discord’s character, who stuck out immensely.

The clothing he was wearing was just bizarre. To start, he was wearing a very western looking cowboy hat, and since she couldn’t see his hair, she assumed the hat covered it. He also had vampire like fangs that were so big that reached down to the character’s chin, and he was wearing some kind of superman-esque costume, with a P instead of an S, cape and all. Finally, he was wearing very large, grey boots that almost went up to the characters knees.

His character was also completely engulfed in fire, but that seemed to be entirely cosmetic, as it didn’t seem to deter his character from running and jumping as much as Discord made him. Nor did any of the characters even bat an eye at his character.

A wave of nostalgia hit Pinkamena as she looked at the game, not having played it herself since elementary school when the teachers took them to the computer lab, she always finished her work as early as possible so she could play it as much as possible.

“Are you...playing Poptropica?”

Discord stopped clicking on the mouse and turned his head slightly to look at her, he stared at her for a few seconds, and then turned his head back to the computer screen and continued to play Poptropica, the rhythmic sound of the clicking from the mouse continuing.

“Yes.” He said nonchalantly.

“You have an extremely powerful, and extremely expensive I’d imagine, computer provided to you by a very powerful crime organization, which you use to control all of your scientific machines. And you’re using it...to play Poptropica?”

“I’m...waiting on a call.” Discord said as he glanced over to the left of his computer, where his bright brown flip phone lay. “Plus, this game is really entertaining, and surprisingly scientifically accurate. Except for Shrink Ray Island, I’ve done a couple of experiments, and shrinking people wouldn’t work like that at all. Don’t even get me started on the part with the morse code!” He said with both admiration and frustration.

Pinkamena just stared at him, both proud and disappointed. She wasn’t whether he was being serious, or he just expected her to take him seriously.

Almost an entire minute of awkward silence passes, before Discord let out a sigh and saved his game before turning off the computer. He then stylishly spun around in his chair, probably the reason he got a chair with wheels in the first place, and looked up at Pinkamena with a content smile.

“Hello sweetie, how can I help you?” He asked sarcastically, as if he already knew what she was here for.

Pinkamena looked back at Discord in confusion, wondering why he had called her sweetie. But she just shrugged, dismissing it as Discord making some strange reference. She then reached into her right hoodie pocket and pulled out the piece of paper Michael wrote for her. She handed it to Discord as he took it from her, looking at it curiously.

As he read the word, his lips spread into a small smirk as he let out a quiet chuckle.

“Heh, figured he’d give you this, though I kind of hoped he wouldn’t. Both fortunately and unfortunately, I rarely am.” He mumbled as he stood up out of his chair, reaching over and flicking a switch on the wall. As he did, the lights come on in the room and illuminates it.

She follows him with her eyes curiously, watching as he walks over to the machines. He walks up to one machine in particular, one of the ones she remembered the most because it seemed so strange. It was the somewhat large one that looked kind of like a broken arcade machine, with wires coming out of it and a ticket slot on the front.

Then he did something that reminded her just how strange and unpredictable he really was.

Turns out, the machine was really just a big prop, likely made out of some kind of very light material like plastic. Either that, or Discord is incredibly strong. She watched as he, with one hand, pushed the entire machine to the side! And he did all this without even looking up, as if it was the most casual thing he’d ever done. He crouched down and put his hand against the wall, moving it slightly to the left like a panel, revealing a dark black wall safe behind hit, the panel having been painted the same as the wall so only he’d actually know it was there.

She wasn’t sure how he managed to paint it without some of the paint getting on the back of the machine, when it came to Discord, she might have been better off not asking questions.

Not just that, but, almost like he completely forgot she was even there, looked back at her with an almost confused expression. Then his eyes widened in surprise, as if just realizing he revealed his secret safe to somebody else.

“Uh...don’t tell anyone about this please.” He said casually as he turned back to the safe and continued unlocking it.

She couldn’t tell whether he was being genuine, or just messing with her.

A few moments passed as Pinkamena just watched him open the safe, wondering what Discord even did before The Syndicate took him in.

There was a creaking sound as the safe opened, Discord put the piece of paper in the pocket of his brown lab coat, she wasn’t even sure why he was keeping it.

She couldn’t see anything inside the safe, both due to it being too dark, and Discord was kind of blocking most of the safe. She was a little curious what was in there, considering his arm was elbow deep in the safe, which shouldn’t even be possible since wall safes don’t tend to be that deep, and was moving his arm around in it making various noises.

“So, what does it mean? Imperium?”

Discord kept looking through the safe, though he was still listening to her.

“Oh yeah, figured you wouldn’t know a dead language. It’s Latin, it means power. Michael named it that, probably put power in google translate into a bunch of random languages until he found one he liked.”

Then, suddenly the noises stopped as Discord grabbed onto something specific.

“Aha! It was between The Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000, and The Sonic Lipstick!” He said triumphantly before pulling something out of the safe, then looking into his safe and making a scowl as he pursed his lips, like he was grossed out by what he saw. “Yeah...I should probably clean this thing out and organize it. I don’t even remember making that Rhondium Sensor, or those Ghost Gauntlets. Sometimes I regret my ‘Make A Bunch of Danny Phantom Gadgets And See How Many of Them Are Scientifically Possible’ phase, though that’s not nearly as bad as my Johnny Test phase. I still don’t know where that can of Auto-tanning spray went.” He mumbled as he nodded his head dismissively, shutting the safe, making sure it was locked, and stood up.

Once again, this time with one hand because he had whatever he pulled from the safe in his other, and pulled the fake machine back in front of the wall safe. He walked up to her with a thoughtful look on his face, though it was hard to tell whether he was thinking about something serious, or what toppings to put on his next pizza.

When he got about two feet from her, he tossed whatever it was he was holding toward her. She wasn’t expecting it, but luckily she had good reflexes, as she was able to pull her hands out of her hoodie pockets and catch it.

“Don’t drop that, making more of it is a pain in the arse.” He said with a surprisingly good British accent, though despite what he said, it was obvious how carefree he was by the tone.

She wasn’t going to question how or why Discord learned how to do a British accent, she got enough headaches from The Whispers.

Other than raising her eyebrows slightly at Discord, she decided not to pay him any more attention and just look at what Michael wanted her to have.

She almost immediately recognized it.

It was the same syringe full of a dark red, almost blood like liquid. Well, obviously it wasn’t the same one, but it was filled with the same stuff. She had almost forgotten it was a thing and to ask about it, it just got piled under the dozens of other questions she had. Why did Michael want her to use this?

“What is this? It looks like some kind of liquid energy drink.”

Discord gave out a slight chortle of that, though it seemed more like it was because he found what she said stupid rather than funny.

“Pfft, yeah, it’ll definitely give you energy. Along with a two hundred percent increase in muscle and bone density, a massive increase in testosterone, forcing the brain to produce obscene amounts of adrenaline along with dopamine, lowering the sensitivity of the nervous system to the point of anything you feel will be negligible, putting your cognitive functions into overdrive, and adding a slight boost to cell regeneration for anywhere between one to three hours. But it's about as likely to kill you.”

As he said this, he walked back over to the table with his computer on it. Then he leaned down and began to rub his hands under the bottom of the table, as if he were looking for something. There was then a clicking sound as he apparently pressed a button, which apparently opened some kind of hidden contraption in the wall beside his computer. A rectangle shaped part of the wall began to slide into itself as a cold mist came out of it, revealing a mini-fridge built into the wall. Discord put that himself, no doubt.

From what she could see: There was a jar filled with a dark red, almost brown liquid. A piece of paper on the jar labeled it as ‘Szechuan Sauce’, a box of ice cream sandwiches, a small, clear bottle filled with a green liquid labeled ‘Spunk’, a six pack of brown cans with no label on them, and a medium sized cardboard box with a label that said ‘Frozen Goods’ on the front.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what anything in that fridge was.

Discord put his hand in the mini-fridge and pulled one of the cans from the pack, cracking it open and taking a sip from it, smiling satisfyingly after he did.

“Hmm, putting jelly beans, warheads, skittles, and gummy bears in a blender, melting the remains down to liquids, and mixing them together with hot chocolate? Not one of my worst ideas. Way better than mixing shellfish and anchovies with a Doritoes Jacked taco, my stomach will never forgive me for that one, neither will the janitors at Denny’s.” He said as he cringed at the memory, his food combinations either ended really well, really horribly, or some mixture of both.

He then looked back at Pinkamena curiously, as if he completely forgot she was there, again. Then he grabbed another one of the brown cans and pressed the button under the table again, and began walking towards Pinkamena as the mini-fridge behind him closed and it blended in, looking like the wall all over again.

Pinkamena only looked back at him baffled, maybe it was true every genius has been touched by insanity, though Discord seems a little more than touched.

“So...it's some kind of drug?” She asked as she turned towards him, slightly wondering how much of this room was real and what else he was hiding.

Discord walked up to her and offered her the other can, which she hesitantly took and put in her hoodie, deciding she’ll try it later. She did really like skittles, and really enjoyed food and candy combinations.

“It's not a drug, it’s the drug. Michael got a few experimental cybernetic enchantments from me, sure. But he still wanted every advantage he could possibly get, besides, I did owe him a favor for that thing with the dolphin and the porcupine, I’ll never look at a treehouse the same again.” He seemed to visibly shudder at the memory of something as he looked away from Pinkamena for a second, before refocusing on Pinkamena and taking another sip from his can of mixed candies and hot chocolate. “Anyway, it’s the very definition of a battle drug, likely up there with one of the most effective things I’ve ever made. Essentially the only setback to it, besides the obvious ones, would be it is extremely addictive. It’s actually a lot like a combination of X-Cell and Psycho from Fallout 4, sadly the game didn’t allow such creativity. If they just upgraded the engine, the games would be a lot better. ‘It just works’ my ass, fuck you Todd Howard! I could make a better game with a shittier engine with one hand tied behind my back, hyped up on Adderall and in a day.”

Discord said angrily as he scowled and ground his teeth, taking a longer sip from his can. Pinkamena just stared at him with a baffled look on her face, is this what others felt like when she’d go off on tangents about random things when she was Pinkie? If so, it was a miracle anyone could tolerate her if it was mixed with how hyper she was.

Discord looked back at her as his face relaxed, realizing just how off topic he got. “Sorry, but yeah. Michael asked me to make that for him, he wanted to use it to fight against Igneous and other problems. But he...got really addicted to it and it became a real problem for him. Messed up his body so bad he couldn’t even breathe properly anymore, actually why he wears a gas mask. It became a real problem when it caused him and Starlight to break up after she came and asked me to stop making it for him, oh yeah, they used to date.” He quickly said, as if it were an unimportant detail.

Pinkamena would have been surprised if The Whispers hadn’t already made her aware of this.

“I did agree to stop making it, but more because it was expensive to make. Though Michael kept his own stash, and I kept an emergency dose in my safe, I’m still the only one who knows the formula, and I intend to keep it that way. But, you don’t seem like you have an addictive personality, so you should be fine. Besides, even if you get addicted, I’m sure The Whispers wouldn’t let you get too bad.”

She was almost skeptical about what he was saying, but it was Discord, and he wasn’t really the lying type. At least, she didn’t think so.

“Wait, wait, wait. You made a battle drug, for Michael? The guy who’s mostly muscle, has a burning desire to kill someone he deems a challenge, and you likely knew he had an addictive personality? Wow, you really are a mad scientist!” Pinkamena exclaimed as she put the needle in her hoodie pocket, realizing her hoodie pockets were beginning to get rather full.

“Nah, I’m not mad, I’m just differently sane.” He said as he waved his hand in front of him, as if dismissing the very notion. “Besides, Michael might hit like a locomotive at his best, but he’s about as subtle as one. There wasn’t any damage he could do that I wouldn’t figure out how to fix. Well, besides his relationship with Starlight, anyway.” Discord put his hand in his lab coat pocket like he was searching for something, then his eyes widened slightly as he realized it wasn’t there. He turned around and looked at his phone on his table, looking more annoyed than anything. “Damn, I forgot to get my phone while I was over there.” He said as he began walking back over to his table.

Pinkamena realized she needed to start asking some of the questions she came here for, if not, they might just be forgotten and replaced by the questions she had about how Discord worked.

“So, I have a couple questions about The Whispers. And you’re quite literally the only person who knows anything about them.” She asked as she moved over to the metal table and sat on it since it was the only place to sit. She felt herself almost have a panic attack as she did, but The Whispers snuffed that out before it could even start.

Discord picked up his phone and opened it, grunting disappointedly when he saw he had no voicemails. He then put it in his pocket and turned to Pinkamena, his eyes went from her head, to her feet, and then back to her head like he was analyzing her.

“Hmm, I take it you’ve met Alice? What fairy tale did she play as this time? Cinderella, perhaps? Cinderella never made sense to me, if the slipper fit perfectly, then how did it fall off?” He said, seeming to ask himself more than her.

Pinkamena was slightly surprised, but at this point, not very much. Though, she felt this was one time where she could ask a question and get an actual answer.

“Alice In Wonderland, actually. How did you know I met Alice?”

Discord let out a small snort, before taking another sip from his can. “Alice In Wonderland, so they do have a sense of humor. Anyway, I know because I recognize the pattern. All previous leaders started asking a lot of questions about The Whispers after meeting a little girl while they were asleep, saying something about her always appearing like she was pretending to be a character from some fairy tale, though The Whispers don’t tend to like it when their hosts ask questions. Though I couldn’t give her a real name until Igneous, I just kept calling her ‘Fairy Girl’. Better fitting name if you ask me.”

He didn’t look at Pinkamena as he talked, instead, he just stared down at the can in his hands, almost like he was lost in thought. Even that smirk was gone from his face, though he didn’t seem sad, per se. Just more like...he didn’t know how to express what he was feeling.

“And yes, I know Starlight told you about Igneouss’ trial run of The Whispers. It made sense, I assume to get her vote for taking Juno off your ass, she wanted you to start doing therapy sessions. And with my suggestion to mentally evaluate you after you tried to kill Michael, it just assured she would tell you. She needed to so she could make sure you were aware of whatever problems you were having because of The Whispers, and maybe give you a bit of closure on Igneous, whether you knew you needed it or not.”

Discord took another long sip from his can, though he didn’t seem too interested in actually drinking it anymore.

Pinkamena now how newfound respect for Discord, and a bit of fear. The way he just...analyzed people like that, and could predict what they’d do based on whatever psychological analysis he had of them, and how confident he was that they’d carry out the actions he knew they would. It was...really kind of unnerving, he could very likely beat even The Whispers in a battle of wits.

She already knew that it would be nearly impossible, but she made a mental note to never get on Discord’s bad side.

“Yeah...well, anyway, Alice sai-”

“No, wait! Let me guess,” Discord suddenly said as he put his hand out in front of him, signalling her to stop. “Alice said something along the lines of ‘you need to work on your mental fortitude’ after taking out a select memory that had no real significance, before showing you some kind of precious memory, and saying that without them, it could very well be taken away?” Discord paused as he looked at Pinkamena expectantly, which she only responded with a hesitant nod.

He then let out a loud groan, before chugging whatever was left in the can and letting out a loud burp, slight bits of saliva began dripping from the corner of his mouth. “That’s just a psychological *burp* trick, Pinkamena. She’s just saying that to give you a false sense of security. Once The Whispers meld with your mind, they’re like, a ninety-nine percent guarantee of safety against any forms of mind manipulation, memory manipulation, *burp*, seizures, pretty much anything that can mess with your mind, with the exception of psychological manipulation and optical illusions.” Discord suddenly wiped his mouth and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out an almost disappointed sigh. “How does he do that all the time?” He mumbled under his breath.

Pinkamena decided to just to sit there silently and wait, she was learning it was better just to roll with it when it came to Discord.

“Anyway,” He said as he set the empty can on the table, then putting both his hands on the table and looked at Pinkamena. “She’s just saying that to lure you into a false sense of security, letting you think they give you actual freedom because they care about you so you’ll trust them, they did the same thing with Igneous. The truth is; They can take away any memory from you that they feel like and replace it with any of their memories and make you believe it's yours. The second they were injected into your mind, my bad, by the way. You sacrificed any privacy or real control you had, any free will you think you have is just an illusion. Though, some nihilist would argue all forms of free will is an illusion.”

Pinkamena didn’t say anything, not that there wasn’t anything she wanted to say, just that she expected that The Whispers were going to do something. They can’t like the fact that Discord was telling her these things, even if they were lies, he was still planting the idea in her head. She half expected them to just take control and kill Discord here and now, but they didn’t.

Actually, now that she thought about it, they likely realized how useful Discord was to The Syndicate, so they couldn’t kill him. No, they’d be much more likely just to take out the memory of this even happening. That was actually the most likely scenario.

And if that was true, there wasn't a single thing she could do to stop them, or pretty much anything they did, really. It was like Discord said, she had absolutely no real control, just the amount they let her think she had. She needed to start accepting that, she didn’t really have a choice otherwise.

If she was going to lose this memory anyway, might as well sate some of her curiosity, even if it was just temporary.

“So, what should I do then? If anything?” Pinkamena asked as she jumped off the table, she was starting to feel that anxiety and panic again, and The Whispers didn’t seem like giving her any mercy.

“Hmm, hold on a second.” Discord reached into his other lab coat pocket and pulled out his brown journal, opening it and beginning to flip through it. He then suddenly stopped as he read something, pushing his glasses back up, he really needed to get contacts instead, but the glasses made him look so smart. “Have you...heard of an isolation tank?” He asked as he looked up at Pinkamena.

Isolation.

That was something she had become disturbingly familiar with, and yet something she had an urge for. She had desperately wanted to be alone again, even if it was just a temporary escape from her problems. Just a few moments of peace were all she needed, just to shut out the world for a bit.

And yet the world seemed to enjoy keeping her busy.

“Can’t say that I have. What is it?” She asked as she started walking up to Discord, trying her best to keep her breathing steady.

“Well,” Discord mumbled as he closed his book, putting it back in his lab coat pocket. “I’m not going to waste either of our time by telling you why they were made. Basically, they’re like giant, metal pods that you step in. The point of them is that they completely cut off all your senses, and not just the simple five either. Time, temperature, balance, etc. It cuts off everything, so you’re left alone with your thoughts, not knowing what time of day it is, whether you’re hot or cold, or whether you’re even awake. It has driven people insane before, but mostly it is for helping someone think. But...with someone with The Whispers, it forces them to talk to you, instead of them only doing it when they feel like it.

They can’t force you to leave either, you’re there for as long as you want to be, getting whatever you want. One of the previous leaders had one installed into his office, she enjoyed talking to them, apparently. Igneous found out about it and began using it, called it his ‘Panic Room’, or something like that. Pretty much, if you’re stubborn enough, you can get whatever you want from them, or at least annoy them. Igneous was extremely stubborn, from what I can see, you’re just as stubborn. You could probably get whatever you want out of them with your pain tolerance and tenacious personality.”

Discord’s eyes suddenly lowered as his hand came up his chin, stroking his goatee thoughtfully.
“Why do I feel like I’m forgetting something?”

Panic room.

That sounded...right, actually. Being able to just cut off the world for a while, not having to care for any of your problems, even if just for a few minutes, she needed that. And being able to talk to The Whispers whenever she liked? Annoying them until they gave her what she wanted?

Was the world finally giving her a break?

“I’m interested, can you show me where it is? I was barely in there longer than a couple of minutes before Michael threw me out.” She meant to say it jokingly, but it ended up coming out more self-deprecating.

“Hmm, can’t. Busy. Starlight can, she’s the one who made sure Igneous didn’t stay there too long. That’s not a problem now though, I installed a timer that automatically opens it after what amount of time has been put in. But you’ll have to do that tomorrow, you have school in,” Discord looked down at his right arm and pulled up the sleeve, revealing a Mickey Mouse watch on his wrist. “Two hours, give or take.”

Oh yeah, school.

With all that happened, she completely forgot she was still in school. She had to explain what happened with The Silent Killer to Applejack, with what happened with Sunset there was likely going to be something with that.

It wasn’t even the actual school work she was dreading, it was dealing with people that she really didn’t want to deal with.

“I haven’t even gotten actual sleep, do you happen to have anything that’ll keep me focused for the rest of the day? Or, at least school?”

“I do, but I’m not giving you any of it. I need it for later, I have a couple shows I need to binge watch and I always post my reviews on reddit, so I need to actually focus on them.” Discord said as he puts his hands in his lab coat pockets, his eyes widening slightly in surprise as they scraped against something. “Oh yeah, this is what I wanted to give you.”

Discord pulled something out of his lab coat and tossed it to her, thought this time she was ready.

She felt her heart stop when she saw what it was she caught.

“I had intended to give it to you along with your necklace, but things went the way they did, and I just didn’t get the chance.”

It was her phone.

She held it with both of her hands, and she just...couldn’t take her eyes off of it. It was an IPhone6, she remembered getting it for sixteenth birthday, it was the last gift she got from her sisters. The case was a bright pink with various colored balloons on it, she remembered paying fifteen dollars for it since she had to get it customized.

She felt a sudden urge to turn it on.

She almost desperately flipped the phone around, pressing the home button to turn it on.

She had to bite her lip to hold back a sob.

The phones battery was full, and the time was three fifty eight, but it was the home screen that hurt. She remembered the day vividly. It was a week after Princess Twilight went back to Equestria, they had been trying to fit Sunset in with their group and get her to be happy. Which had been her goal since she excelled at making people happy.

They had planned for all of them to come to Pinkie’s house for a girls night out, as a way to show that they had accepted her and wanted to be friends. Long story short, it ended up being a very emotional night for Sunset and she had a breakthrough. It took a long time before she really forgave herself, but that night is when she began the healing process and realized that she deserved happiness. And her, having been Pinkie at the time, took a commemorative selfie with Sunset and the rest.

It was the first time they had gotten Sunset to smile, really smile.

It was one of the few times she felt genuine happiness and pride after her sisters were gone, something she had struggled to do ever since. Making her best friend happy when she was sad, because she cared for her.

Then she tried to kill that same best friend in a fit of rage, all because she was mad at her for being unable to do the impossible.

“I kept it charged for you, and, though I easily could’ve, I didn’t break into it. It hasn’t been touched since it was taken from you right before you were dropped off into the woods, figured you’d want it back. Also I...may or may not have put my number in the case, if you ever decide you need to call me for something.” He said awkwardly as he started rubbing the back of his head.

“Thank you.”

There were a few seconds that passed by in silence, Discord, for once, seemed content on remaining silent with both his hands in his pockets. Pinkamena was content just staring at the photo on her phone, her hands shaking slightly she held it.

That was, before The Seinfield theme song began playing from Discord’s pocket.

Discord quickly reached into his pocket, muted the ringtone and looked at it, but he looked up at Pinkamena first.

“Ok, not to be rude, but you need to leave now.” Discord blurted, catching Pinkamena off guard.

“W-what? Why?” Pinkamena asked as she put the phone in her hoodie pocket.

“Because, I’ve been expecting this call for a bit and I’d like privacy. I get that you’re a bit emotionally sensitive right now, but you have school in two hours, this call is very important, and neither of us have the time.”

Discord suddenly went behind Pinkamena and began to push her towards the door, though he was trying to do so more or less gently.

“But I still have questions!” She tried to say, but he was seeming persistent.

“How many ways do I have to say to go? Leave! Arrivederci! Allonsy” He said as he opened the door, pushing Pinkamena out of the door, slamming the door behind her.

“Good grief, I didn’t like having to do that, but she’s not ready. I’ve only just begun preparations, haven’t even started with making sure she’s ready, I’m not even positive she’s capable of reaching the second transformation yet.” He said as he looked down at the phone while it was still ringing, almost considering just not answering.

Almost.

Discord sighed as he opened the phone to take the call.

“Yes, did you get it?” Discord asked the person on the phone, walking back towards his computer. “Great, and you can get hi-it back here within three days at the specified location? Yes, I have the said amount I’d pay as long as nobody talks. What do you mean you have someone asking questions? I specifically paid you guys so you wouldn’t ask questions?” He said as he sat down in his chair, holding the phone between his head and his shoulder as he turned his computer back on.

“Look, as long as he doesn’t go around telling people about what you guys found, it’s fine. But that is your responsibility, make sure he doesn’t blabber his mouth and there’s no problem. But if he does and I hear about it, and I will hear about it, it’ll be your ass.”

Discord ended that call by snapping the flip phone shut, though that ended up being pointless since he just had to open it again and begin typing in numbers to start calling someone else before putting it between his shoulder and his head as it began to call.

“It astonishes me that you can’t even buy good work these days, is it that difficult to keep your mouth shut and don’t ask questions when someone tells you too as they offer money?”

Discord began typing rapidly on the keyboard as he began to search for something, slightly annoyed at how long his phone had been ringing. Though he couldn’t help but smirk at the satisfying clicking noise as someone finally picked up.

“Yes, is this the Lenox Hill Hospital? Great, this is Trevor Philips at The New York Blood Center making sure those pints of blood are still set to be delivered tomorrow? They are? Good, thank you.” Discord ended the call by closing the flip phone again, though this time it was less violent.

And, once again, he had to open it again and began to type numbers as he began making another call. Why did he do this to himself?

“Samuel, talk to me, do you have them? Yes, dumbass, for the third time, I don’t care if they have any STD’s. As long as there are nine of them, they’re all females, and are eighteen or above. Yes, I’m paying for all nine of them at the same time. No, I don’t care how much they’ll cost, I can afford it. And before you ask, yes, I am done with your redundant questions. Just meet me where I told you too when I told you too, and I’ll have the money.”

Now this time, he snapped his flip phone violently.

And then he opened the phone again, he still had one last call to make.

“Yes, is this CTL Electronics? Yes, I would like to purchase twenty TV’s. Repeat myself? Yes, I said I’d like to buy twenty TV’s. What do I need them for? I have a lot of shows I need to catch up on, so I thought it would be easier to watch them all at once. Do I have the money? Of course, I wouldn’t be calling if I didn’t. I’ll be coming to pick them up in about an hour, have them ready please.”

That was the last call he had to make, setting things up was the hard part. There was a bit of a bump, but things were going a little better than he expected. Now was the part where he waited and hoped things went as planned.

“Three thousand to rent a warehouse for a week? Are you kidding me? That’s a steal! I mean, I’m not low on money, but the discount is still appreciated.”

And just like that, he put the last piece of the puzzle in place. He shouldn’t cause any issues if he was fed, keeping him fed was the hard part.

What Discord was really dreading, was what was going to happen after this. He hadn’t set anything in place for that yet, mostly because he couldn’t say with one hundred percent certainty this was going to work as planned.

He should, however, be trying to figure out where he was going to be getting all that meat. Wyett had a voracious appetite, even among his kind. He dreaded how hungry he was going to be when he comes out of hibernation.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Well, that was...unexpected.” Pinkamena said as she stared at the door, her eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion.

Discord had gotten mad at her before, sure, but he didn’t get physical. Somehow this felt...different, almost like he was trying to hide something.

“Ugh, even if he is, I don’t have the time to deal with that. No, even if just for a bit, I want to relax.” Pinkamena said as she turned her back to the wall and pushed herself against it, before slowly lowering herself to the ground before plopping down on the floor.

She sat on the floor in the hallway outside of Discord’s office, her back against the wall, her legs spread out in front of her, her hands in her hoodie pockets as she seemed to space out.

And she didn’t know what to do.

She felt her hand wrap itself around her phone, pulling it out slowly as she pressed the home button, looking at the picture on the front. He pressed the home button again and the numbers came on the screen for her password, she slowly moved her thumb towards the numbers, but hesitated before she did.

Should she open this now? There are...a lot of memories on this phone, and The Whispers didn’t seem particularly happy with her at the moment. If she happened to get emotional, they wouldn’t stop it.

But, she needed to closure, she needed to still be able know she had some control, however minuscule. It might have been a small choice, but it was still hers to make.

She then typed in her password, which was her birthday backwards, and opened her phone.

And was then bombarded by notifications.

There was a constant sound of dinging as she got Instagram, Snapchat, and Imessage notifications, not even to mention the amount of missed calls she had in her voice box.

She sat and watched the notifications hit her phone, waiting for what felt like hours before they finally started to slow down, a few more minutes passed before they actually stopped.

In that short time, she had changed the position she was sitting in. She had pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her other arm around them, then she rested her chin on the top of her knees as she looked down at her. It almost looked like the fetal position, except her head was on top of her knees, and only one arm was wrapped around her knees.

And she wasn’t crying, not yet, at least.

First, was Instagram.

That’s actually where she had the most notifications, she had a lot of message requests, and messages from various group chat’s she was in. Though, unsurprisingly, a good amount of the message requests were from bots. Bots sending her links to porn websites that likely would give her viruses, bots that wanted her to post something about them for a discount or just straight up money because she had a decent amount of followers, just various bots.

“Good to see Instagram still hasn’t fixed their security, glad to see some things didn’t change.” Pinkamena said, though her voice cracked slightly as she spoke.

The majority of her other message requests had mostly been a bunch of online creeps who had seen some of her photos, thought she was hot, and tried to hook up with her. Some of them were actually kind of nice about it, though most of them sent a handful of messages, and after seeing she hadn’t respond to them, assumed she was leaving them on read and called her a
‘Whore’ ‘Slut’ and various other sexual insults.

Some of them made their intentions very obvious, sending very sexual pick up lines and, usually, with pictures of their penises. When that first started happening to her, she was usually just left disgusted and confused after blocking them. But it started happening so frequently that it just stopped bothering her. She had taken to calling them ‘Weiner Art’, and she used to respond with jokes. Sometimes making fun of the size by responding with something like ‘move your thumb’, and other times just puns based on penises, until she eventually just stopped responding at all since her jokes weren’t usually taken very well. If only they could see her now.

So pretty much just Instagram as usual.

She didn’t actually have a lot of message request from any of her friends, everyone she was friends with she had followed and messaged at least once, or was in a group chat with.

Then again, the majority of the group chats she was in was used just for sending and seeing memes. She wondered how many meme formats have risen and died over the three months she was gone, she probably missed out on a good amount of laughs.

She then went over to her direct messages, the majority of them had been from Sunset Shimmer and the rest. All of them started off with about the same, asking questions like ‘Where are you?’ ‘Why didn’t you come to Sugarcube Corner for your shift?’ ‘Are you okay?’ They usually started off like that, but they eventually got more frequent and urgent when they realized she was missing. Almost everyone in Canterlot High had texted her at least once, wanting to see where she was or if she was okay.

It made her feel tingly inside for a few seconds to know that so many had cared about her, then guilt came crashing down on her because she was the one who caused them to be so worried in the first place. It hurt her to look at this because she couldn’t help but feel like she could have somehow prevented it, even if she really couldn’t.

The last thing she was checking on Instagram was her profile, more specifically, her pictures. Her profile picture had just been a selfie of her, and so was most of the photos she posted. Along with a couple of pictures of the food concoctions she made, a picture of every party she’s ever hosted, and a few dozen other various photos.

It was the last photo she posted that really caught her attention.

She had posted it about an hour or so before her birthday party was over, it was a picture of her and the rest of the main six all grouped up together, Pinkie was making a peace sign and her tongue was sticking out and her eyes crossed, she had been trying to make the silliest face she could. Her friends didn’t seem to be doing the same, but that was ok.

The caption for the photo was ‘Birthday Selfie’, and it was currently her most liked photo.

It had little over one hundred thousand likes, though significantly fewer comments. Most of the comments were either somebody saying how much they missed her, or someone just commenting ‘RIP’.

She had decided she’d have enough of Instagram.

Snapchat had been more or less the same, though she barely had any friend requests or messages from anyone new. She made her Snapchat after her Instagram, and she had learned from just giving everyone her Instagram. She only gave it to really close friends, family, and The Cakes. Though The Cakes rarely texted her about anything besides ‘Happy Birthday’ and ‘When can you come in for work?’ Which, ironically, was some of the first texts she had got from them. But those quickly turned into messages like the rest, asking where she was and if she was ok.

That’s all the messages on Snapchat were, really. Messages asking where she was and if she were ok, pretty much the same as Instagram, there was nothing else to see.

On the plus side, there were a crapton of new bitmoji stories, and those usually gave her a good chuckle. That was for later.

Now came the part she was dreading.

Of course, she sort of figured the messages on Imessage saying pretty much the same things. But she had a lot of calls in her voice box, all of them coming from the about the same people they usually did.

Though there was one thing strange about them, something that made her furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

Rainbow Dash had called her the most frequently out of anyone else, calling about half a dozen times a day for roughly a week, before just stopping. Then she suddenly called her once again three days later, though it was only once, it was the longest voicemail she had left.

Rainbow Dash, that was someone she hadn’t had the time to think about.

She had considered herself close to all of her friends, but her relationship with Rainbow Dash was...different. There was a time where they were alone and Rainbow Dash had confessed to being a lesbian, and that she hadn’t told the others because she was afraid her sexuality would affect her relationship with the rest of the group, considering they were all girls. She had talked to her about it because she had come out as bisexual, and she needed to know how she did it.

Pinkamena had to admit, there were times in her life that she felt moments of infatuation for some of her female friends. Those had been just as common as an infatuation she had felt for most of the boys at the school. She had never pursued any real romantic relationships with any of the boys, though there was some...sexual experimentation, she was a girl with needs after all. But she never acted on them and didn’t let it affect her relationship with them, she might have been impulsive when it came to most things, but she had control over her more primal desires.

Well, at least she used to. Before she became a human-animal hybrid with little to no control over her emotions, and a strong bloodlust, but that was quite different.

She had managed to convince Rainbow that they wouldn’t let it affect their relationship, and that she should just come out to them. She did, and everything turned out fine, going back to normal rather quickly. Though she didn’t tell the rest of the school, more because she didn’t want to hurt the feelings of a couple of boys who had been crushing on her than anything else.

But ever since they had that conversation, things had been different between them. They became closer, not much closer than she was with the rest of them, only somewhat noticeably so. But Rainbow was actively trying to hang out with just her more, was making more flirtatious comments and becoming more touchy. She didn’t particularly mind it at the time, but she still noticed the change.

Looking back on it now, it was obvious that Rainbow was hitting on her, and that she had feelings for her. Which would explain why she had called her more than anyone else, it was the only way she knew that she could even talk to her. It was likely that one of these voicemails was a confession of her feelings, probably the last one, if she had to guess.

And then she just disappeared one day, without saying a word or leaving a trace.

She had to listen to this voicemail, at least the last one, she owed her that much. Pinkamena put the phone up to her right ear right under her hair, her thumb hovering over the play button, not even realizing how much her hand was shaking.

She took a long, deep breath as she closed her eyes, pressing the play button.

“Pinkie Pie, it’s me, Rainbow Dash. Again.” There was a brief silence, the only sound was Rainbow’s breathing. Then there was a muffled banging noise as she heard a door shut, and then a scraping sound as she assumed Rainbow Dash sat down in a chair. “I know you can’t hear this, I’m not even sure why I’m calling you. Whoever took you, and I have a pretty good idea of who, has surely destroyed your phone. They’ve made sure your family won’t be talking, along with anyone else who might know. I’m positive these are the same people who took your sisters years ago, and who’ve likely taken many others.

The only thing I can’t figure out, is why?”

She seemed to be talking to herself more at this point than Pinkie, a habit she knew all too well. Her voice sounded different it was gritty and hoarse, it almost didn’t like Rainbow. While she was talking, there was a near constant clicking noise in the background. It sounded mechanical, like pieces of something being put together. She couldn’t quite place it, but something about it felt...familiar.

“It doesn’t matter why, not really, no reason can justify what they’re doing. I don’t know how many are dead because of them, but not you. You’re not dead, you can’t be, I don’t believe it. You’re alive out there somewhere, you have to be. And I’m going to save you, because…” She stopped talking for a few seconds, stopping whatever she was doing as the clicking noise in the background stopped. “I love you. I didn’t get a chance to say it to you before, but I’m saying it now. I love you, Pinkamena Diane Pie. Not as a friend, but as the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.” There was an air of confidence in what she said, the clicking noise in the background picking up again.

Pinkamena felt herself clutch her other hand when she said that, biting the middle of her lip as she closed her eyes, almost tempted to just stop the voicemail.

Almost.

“We’ve tried everything, we looked everywhere, talked to anyone and everyone, we even got Princess Twilight to try to help, nothing worked. It’s clear these people know how to cover their tracks, must have a lot practice. But, I won’t give up, I can’t, I don’t know how. I don’t care what I have to do, I’ll kill if I have to. I won’t go through this again, I can’t.” There was a violent grunt as the sound of something sizzling could be heard in the background over the clicking, a slamming sound echoed throughout the room as she hit the table. “Shit! I forgot how much that hurt.”

There was a long silence as only the sound of her erratic breathing could be heard over the phone, even the clicking noise had stopped. Suddenly it picked up again, only after Rainbow let out a loud sigh.

“Even if I have to do it by myself, I don’t care. I will track them down, I will, I Pinkie Promise.”

The clicking slowed down for a few seconds, before just completely stopping. Then there was a different clicking noise, like the sound of metal being pulled out of metal, and something else being put in its place.

Then there was one sound she knew all too well, the sound of a large gun being cocked.

“I’m going to come find you.”

The call ended after that, the only sound coming from the phone was the beeping indicating the voicemail was over.

Pinkamena didn’t respond immediately, she didn’t even bother to end the beeping. Her face remained still, no longer biting her lip or closing her eyes, instead choosing to just stare off blanky.

Minutes passed before she moved, the beeping being the only sound in the hallway. Slowly, she put her thumb on the side of the phone and pressed the power button, turning it off. The arm holding the phone dropped lifelessly, hitting the ground with a thud before lazily putting the phone back in her hoodie pocket. As she did, her legs and other arm relaxed too, laying flat on the ground in front of her as she rested her head against the wall behind her.

“She’s dead.” Pinkamena mumbled, a hollow tone in her voice. “She went after The Syndicate, and it got her killed.”

That had to be what happened, she flew too close to the truth and she got killed for it. That’s what The Syndicate does, it’s what they’ve always done. Rainbow’s loyalty got her killed, and nobody would know it.

It could have been anyone who did it, Michael, Juno, Zecora seems like she wouldn’t be above it. But it didn’t matter, she had almost no doubt that’s what happened. It explained everything, the timing worked too well, and she had stopped believing in coincidences.

And it was at least partly her fault, there must have been something she could have done back then to save her. But it was too late, her body was likely rotting somewhere, never to see the light of day.

Pinkamena reached into her other hoodie pocket, grabbing on to the brown can Discord gave her. Though since both of her hands were shaking, she found it difficult to open it.

She cracked the can open and brought it up to her mouth, trying her best to keep the hand steady. Pinkamena took a large gulp from the can before gently laying it down on the ground in between her legs.

She felt something warm and liquid roll down her cheek from her right eye, reaching her cheek and dripping onto her hand. She ignored it.

The liquid inside the can was interesting, it was warm despite the can being cold. It was very sweet even though the texture of it was more like something sour, and yet it seemed to dissolve in her mouth like cotton candy.

She kind of liked it.

Pinkamena brought it up to her mouth again and took a sip, this time smacking her lips again as if she was trying to detect something. She looked down at the can, another warm and liquid something rolling down her left cheek and onto her left hand, as she realized what was missing.

“Needs more alcohol.”