My big human: Friendship is expendable.

by Account No Longer Active

First published 22nd of July, 2012

What if the ponies were the bronies and 'humares'? What if they enjoyed the shows violent nature?

Set in a world where humans are mythological. Where they are said to be volatile and unstable creatures. Both capable of great good and evil. Now let's think if a cartoon was based on this. Banned from being shown to little fillies a few nights; it showed their violent nature, the kindness in their hearts and the many ways to make friends. What if the ponies were the bronies and 'humares'?

What if they enjoyed the show's violent nature? What if after 5 seasons of action, normality and friendship, the show came to a climatic end. When the heroes died in a blaze of glory, what happened next?

Apparently the characters are summoned from the show. Although this unique cast of miss fits might have a problem finding out they're the product of somepony's imagination. Worst of all, these soldiers might have a problem with the all of the haters of the show.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------I I take no credit to this fantastic image. Sad to say I found it browsing Google images, therefore could not give credit where it was due.

However here is the the link to the original picture. http://elosande.deviantart.com/art/what-am-I-watching-202641071

Cheers to Elosande.

Chapter 1: Some ends lead to a new beginning.

“Tia I’m serious, you should watch at least one episode. I guarantee you will love the characters, especially Prince Albert. You do say you would love to meet another charming member of Royalty.” Luna beseeched to her sister.

“No. I understand you are happily making friends being a ‘humare’, and believe me it warms my heart that you are once again accepted by my little ponies, but I will not watch that silly program.” Princess Celestia had been plagued with the same request from her sister ever since she discovered the craze that had become a new sub-culture amongst her subjects.

A TV show about a band of cartoon characters, either fighting the forces of evil or going about their daily routine with a random event thrown in. For five years the program had been running and had collected quite a fan base. The fierce combat scenes were something unimaginable by pony standards, with devices called guns and ‘martial arts’. Nopony knew what that meant, but they certainly did not want to be on the receiving end of it.

“Oh Tia, it is not a silly program. You know fillies are forbidden from seeing it. It is truly a spectacular form of entertainment, even for an animation. The action, drama, and even the episodes where they go about their daily routines are quite enjoyable. You should at least watch the first few episodes. Please.” The Princess of the night was giving her elder the old puppy dog eyes, as they made their way down the royal corridors she continued to plead her case. Soon the alabaster alicorn sighed, bid her sister goodnight, and headed towards her chambers.

In the ill lit room of the older Diarch, a few treats and snacks were on a serving trolley; left behind for tonight’s entertainment. The cakes and drinks were left opposite the balcony, where a dying sun was seen setting on the horizon. Celestia perched herself on her Princess sized bed, fit for her majesty, and locked the door. After erecting a sound proof barrier, she levitated a TV remote and flicked her 50 inch plasma screen on. Surfing through the channels, she kept an eye on the time.

Oh hurry up. It’s about to start soon. If I miss this then I’m going to imprison Haspony and make them re-run it.

Soon enough, she found the channel she was looking for and luckily, for everypony who made the show, the adverts were still on. The Princess sighed in relief and levitated a single piece of popcorn to her lips. She smiled merrily as the salty flavour treated her taste buds.

Unfortunately her moment of bliss shattered like glass when there was a knock at the balcony door. Wide eyed, she slowly rotated her head and spotted the source of the tapping. Her mouth dropped in horror as her sister entered the room.

“Oh can I borrow your shampoo dear sister, mine is empt…” She was cut off by a thunderous guitar rift.

“My big humans: Friendship is expendable.” Luna immediately faced the TV, still in shock over the energetic music in the background.

“Loyal minds,

cynical hearts.

brave spirits,

steel will.

Pestering people,

escaping danger.

And trouble makes us all complete.

My big humans, you guys know you’re my best frieeeenndss.” cried the male chorus.

“I still hate you guys.” a gruff voice added as the intro ended.

Luna was stunned as the TV picked off from where it left off last week. There was a pause. Then the Princess of the night turned to face her sister with a smug luck on her face. Arching an eyebrow she saw Celestia look away with a shade of crimson on her cheeks.

“So you do…”

“IF YOU TELL ANYONE, I WILL NOT JUST BANISH YOU TO THE MOON, BUT ALSO THROW YOU INTO THE SUN AFTERWARDS!” declared Celestia, flustered with both an intense rage and a burning embarrassment.

Luna was unfazed and still smiled.

“Wanna watch it together?” she asked sincerely, she recognised that this was a dark secret her sister did not want exposed. That and that she might actually burn Luna to a crisp. There was what felt like an everlasting silence.

“Yes.” Celestia admitted, levitating a bottle of coca-coltla to her younger sibling.

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“Where the Hell is Shadowman? We gotta move!” A behemoth of a man roared, charging down the corridor. The ruptured remains of his enemies were sprawled about as he tried to make is escape. The victims of his 12-guage shotgun were the least his of problems.

“He’s enroute, stick to the plan Hank.” A voice reassured down his head piece. He made his way quickly through automatic doors but often met resistance. As a result he occasionally had to manually lift the reinforced steel doors and continue his mission. Explosions could be heard around the facility, causing the hallways to shake violently.

“Damn it! Albert where is he?! Oh fuck.” He was lifting a door when three more guards stepped out. He only wore a bullet proof vest and combat pants, as opposed to the armoured men before him. He was hoping they would hit one of his grenades on his chest belt, when one of them fell to the floor.

A black blur was seen retracting a blade from his neck, and it moved onto the second. His shadow themed trench coat flared as he danced around the man, puncturing him repeatedly. The final guard raised is assault rifle and it was battered away by another long blade. The arm dagger slid down and cut off his index finger. By the time he saw his reflection in his attacker’s shades it was too late. A quick slash across the throat and the man collapsed.

The Princess’ could see why this level of violence was accepted, as they munched on cakes and slurped up soda. It was a dark desire being indulged, without the need to actually butcher ponies. Not that the fighting was major part of the cartoon, they had their normal days too, but it did seem to crop up at least four times a series.

“There you are. What took you so long?” the titan asked, dropping the door and picking up his shotgun.

Shadowman pointed to the guards and then his watch. He shrugged and the blades retracted back up his sleeve. He nodded towards the exit and they both ran in that direction.

“I don’t care if you were busy; I just took out the generator in less than a minute and managed to get here on time!” Hank was furious, combined with the adrenaline in his veins, he was tempted to squash he team mate.

The silent assassin raised his arms in defence as they reached another door. It was locked and to make matters worse the alarm was screaming away.

”Warning. Reactor failure. Facility destruction immanent. T-minus 5 minutes and counting.” The automated voice warned. The blaring amber lights highlighted Shadowman’s spiked hair and Hank's brown crew cut.

“Albert sir, we’re stuck. The door to the hanger is locked.” Hank informed is superior, pressing a finger against is ear.

“Copy that. Don’t worry. Frank’s already fixing that. Wait what? Why should I tell him to listen for music?” The herculean man and the quiet killer looked at each other with confusion. Although Hank’s face was easy to read, Shadowman’s shades made him difficult to interpret. Only the movement of his mouth and eyebrows gave away any form of emotion.

” Warning-Warning T-minuuus 5 4 8 3…Don’t cha wanna go for a ride…” The song blasted through the corridors; the pair soon realised what the last message was about.

“Hey Hank, I thought I’d give you some inspirational music whilst you attempted to run for your life.” A young voice crackled down both of their headsets.

“Spiteful bastard, you want me to die listening to this shit eh Frank?” he replied to his younger brother. As usually brotherly love was apparent, as it was on any mission.

“You know I’ve been itching to use that hack. Knowledge that is collected, but never used, is always wasted.” the younger sibling quoted sagely. The words of wisdom only further angered the giant.

“Okay enough messing around. Get the extraction point. We messed up big time.” The leader responded.

Princess Celestia required time to get used to some of the Equestrian profanity being thrown about from time to time, but all in all it was used in realistic circumstances. Levitating another slice of chocolate cake in front of the indigo pony, the Mistress of the night refused her sister’s offer and threw another batch of caramel carrot slices in her mouth. They watched intently as the series started coming to its climax. A lot of talk had been traveling far and wide of this being the final episode, despite the promise of three more series.

“So tell me Tia. Who is you favourite human?” Luna asked, not taking her eyes away from the action.

“Well you were correct, I do favour Prince Albert. He is a brave character who finds the best in people. Not like Hank, but still I do sometimes like the brute's head strong attitude.” Celestia responded, flinching as Hank used his empty shotgun as a baton to smack another guard. “What about you Lulu?”

“I find myself torn between Shadowman and Frank. I do love the silent assassin’s display of emotions. I find it cute when he is shocked or confused, and how submissive he is. I also enjoy Frank’s harsh comments, so cynical and snide.”

The pair watched for fifteen minutes as the dynamic duo fought their way through countless numbers of guards. Despite the immense butchering, little blood was shed. Likely due to the cartoon nature of the program. Still, the assassin was a master with his twin blades, effortlessly dancing around.

His partner, on the other hand was quick to anger, and fought as delicately as a bull in a china shop. He blasted many foes with his weapon, threw guards into others, and broke a few spines on the way out. A very entertaining spectacle.

Soon the soldiers arrived to a large rusted hanger, where large burning air ships sat row by row, as an immense gun fight was taking place below. Dug into a mountain was an old air bunker, metal walls and faded paint revealed the age of the facility. Running along the catwalk, they spied the only working ship amongst its burning brothers. They also took notice to the man keeping a large force at bay. The skilled marksman held a long rifle out of a window and repeatedly fired towards an approaching mob.

He was seen pausing as the duo reached ground level.

“Hank, Shadowman, get in! If the ship takes any more damage we won’t even drift out of here.” He ordered. More thunderous cracks were heard as they sprinted up the ramp, turning to find the lever to raise the ramp. Hank found it and shouted for the assassin to tell Albert to take flight. He nodded and took off, bounding up amongst the internal beams.

Bouncing from support beam to catwalk he soon reached the bridge of the flying ship.

“You know if you called ahead, we could have at least made you something to eat.” Frank remarked at his silent comrade, without moving his eyes away from the screen. Disgruntled, Shadowman marched to his superior and tapped him on the shoulder.

The blonde haired man turned and faced his brother in arms. Lowering the sniper and propping it up by the stock. He gripped the barrel and stared at the man before him. His armoured chest plate glistened under lights, illuminating the royal insignia. An Excalibur sword, reaching from top to bottom, with wings reaching around. Scratches, burns, and dents belonging to many bullets were littered across dark plate.

“I know, get Hank up here. We are pulling out now.” With that the phantom returned to the man below. Prince Albert turned and bent over. He tapped the floor and the helm rose up. He grabbed the ships steering wheel and lifted it gently, resulting in a pair of engines igniting.

“We’re going to die you know.” He heard to his right.

“Have a little bit faith kid, we can still make this.” Frank turned, his dark chocolate pony tail swaying to the side. Arching an eyebrow, he took note of explosions, the continuous gun fire and the screams as he looked up to his smiling commander. Both of their blue eyes met and he turned way shaking his head.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you, I have always been a realist.” He sighed and pulled out a cigar. Propping his legs on the console next to him, he lit the cigar and took a deep drag.

“You mean pessimist. We have survived worst.” Albert replied. He brought the large ship into a hovering position and rotated it clockwise to face the exit. He made sure not to burst the enlarge balloon keeping the ship in the air. Thankfully it was bullet proof and each piece of metal bounced off.

Outside he saw the beautiful landscape, mountain ranges, lush hills and dense forests. On the edge of his field of view he spied his kingdom. A large castle, surrounded by a great wall, emerged out of the background. He recalled making his brother give a royal oath not to find him if he didn't return.

This mission was to determine, once and for all, whether or not good will triumph over evil.

“Pahtato, Patahto.” He responded. “You might wanna hurry up if you want to prove me wrong.” he added morbidly.

“Yeah let’s get out of here. I’m sick of this song.” Hank inserted, clipping his younger brother across the back of his head.

The intellectual glared at his elder, meanwhile the giant still walked up to the window. Shadowman stepped in, drove a bade into into one of the speakers, and continued sharpening his blade nonchalantly.

“So what are we waiting for?” Hank asked the Prince.

Sure enough the floating ship made its way towards the exit. Hank asked to borrow the pistols his majesty kept on him at all times. He agreed, passed him both of his close combat weapons, the titan fired them both mercilessly towards the still fighting guards.

“Take this motherfucker! Hahahaha HAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAAA!” The now psychotic man crackled with each shot. Occasionally he tossed a grenade to the floor below causing another uproar of laughter. Shadowman looked at Frank, who only rolled his eyes and continue smoking his cigar.

“Let the boy have his fun; if he isn’t walked, half-dressed, fed or killing something, he isn’t happy.” He sighed, tapped the cigar, and the ash fell at the foot of his chair.

Shadowman nodded and took a seat. With his shades he could withstand the glare of the sun. But they did nothing to stop him being thrown to the ceiling.

The small band of troops slammed against the ceiling at the sudden jerk, before plummeting to the back of the cockpit. Whilst sprawled out across the wall, Prince Albert took the time assess the situation, despite the newly forming chest pain. The rear cables connecting the ship to the zeppelin had snapped, and now the group were staring at the two cords keeping them in the air. The whole ship was facing the sky.

“Bastards shot the cables.” Albert stated, rolling onto is back.

“Thank goodness our Prince is here otherwise we would be oh so confused. Now with his incredible powers of deduction perhaps he could get us out of here!” chided Frank, looking for his cigar.

Luna and Celestia edged towards the end of the bed, captured by sudden change of events. Celestia was starting to believe the rumours of the series ending were true. She started thinking how she would miss the characters. More importantly how they were a release of a stressful day, occasionally she might replace a few bad guys with certain ponies who were a persistent pain in the flank.

Meanwhile, Luna was worried. This was the best thing to happen to her since her release. These characters aided her greatly in making new friends. Despite the resolution of Nightmare night, she still found it difficult to socialise. This cartoon had led to an incredibly accepting community, in turn causing the Princess to meet new ponies leading to new friends.

From the deepest place of her heart, she really didn’t want them to die.

“Sir, here are your guns. Thanks for letting me play with them for a while.” Hank groaned and slid the spent weapons across the wall they lay on. He looked at the front of the ship and saw the sniper fall towards his crotch. With a panicked jump back, he barely managed to avoid being the proud owner of two burst testicles.

“Watch out Hank. Let’s not give your grand kid a black eye now.” Albert jested.

“Oh don’t worry. We won’t live that long.” added Frank, relighting the lost cigar.

The Prince opened his mouth to respond, but could not find the words. He had nothing to say that could promise a way out.

The ship was hanging on by a thread and steadily climbing towards the edge of the atmosphere.

He was about to say something, anything, when another tether snapped. The group covered their faces when thick metal coil slammed into the window, resulting in a spray of glass. Shadowman started plucking glass guards from his trench coat when the pony-tailed man spoke.

“Still not going to talk? Seriously? We’re about to plummet to our deaths and you won’t even say goodbye?” Frank asked with genuine curiosity.

Shadowman just shook his head and grinned.

The annoyed man took a deep drag and faced Hank.

“I told you to take the assault rifle, but nooo. ‘The shotgun would help clear out all of those on the way.’” He said giving a mocking impersonation of his brother.

“You ain’t my mother. Besides, I did didn’t I? I only missed a few.” He responded. He wasn’t about to die with his ego in pieces. He took pride in the work he accomplished, and often didn’t take too well to criticism.

“Knock it off, let’s at least attempt to be civil.” suggested the Prince. There was a short pause before everyone started laughing. Except the mute, he just smiled happily. Then silence fell upon the group again, this time a grimmer mood engulfed the heroes. The sound of bullets was the only thing that could be heard, but even that was faint.

“Any last words your majesty?” Frank asked, truly accepting his fate. Despite often claiming death was around the corner he knew there was often a way out. Not this time. Now he was going to die.

“No. No last speech, no last wishes for the future and no false hope to give. I just want us to think about how far we’ve come.”

“Thanks for the gig sir. I don’t think anybody else would have survived if I went to prison. You gave me a second chance. I’d do this all over again, even if I knew it had the same results. Not only did you save me, but also any prisoners cocky enough to take me on.” Hank chuckled.

“No problem, you are a good man. I should thank you for your aid all this time.”

“I’d like to say thanks for giving me purpose. The university was starting to get boring. Here my mind is put to some use, even if it is about to meet the shrubbery thousands of miles below. You were a brilliant leader my lord, good job. You still didn't clear my tax evasion charge however so…” He made a circular motion with the lit cigar.

“How about you Shadow man, any last words?” Frank attempted to pry some form of vocabulary out of him, and failed.

He merely rolled onto is back, brought two fingers to his forehead, and saluted.

“Beautiful, just…Excuse me a sec.” Frank feigned an attempt to hide his crocodile tears. The silent assassin’s lips twitch as he repressed a smirk.

“Hahaha. By the way, sorry for nearly killing you when we first met. Never did get around to making up for that.” the titan apologised.

Shadowman drove his hand into the air and gave him an okay sign with it.

There was a metallic groan as the last tether began to slowly unravel. The TV split into two images; one of the heroes still sprawled out on the wall, and the other was a close up of the cord.

Slowly, a depressing piano melody played out. Celestia and Luna looked at each other, both wearing morbid expressions, and leant against each other. They could only watched as the final moments of their favourite characters played out.

“I’m going to remove the hooves of the pianist who played this wonderful piece.” Celestia mumbled, a small tear forming in her eye. Luna was still thinking about the fandom, and how it would dissolve after this episode and how she might lose all of her new colleagues and friends.

Meanwhile the group had moved around. Frank and Hank wanted to be side by side when the time came. From left to right lay; the power-house named Hank, the genius named Frank, the ghost of a man labelled Shadowman, and finally to the leader of the misfits: Prince Albert.

“I definitely know now that Prince Albert is my favourite, how about you?” Celestia said, holding back the tears.

“Shadowman.” whimpered Luna. “No matter what anypony says I am his biggest fan.” she finished.

The soldiers looked at each other. They recognised the different backgrounds they came from. Whether poor or royalty, they had united under one common goal: to stop any invading evil from attacking the kingdom.

“Gotta say I feel sorry for you Prince Albert.” Hank broke the silence.

“Oh yeah? Why?” He replied curiously.

“At least we don’t get to die being associated with a penis piercing.” They shared another chuckle.

Hank took a deep breath, held it, and slowly released it. As the melancholy music continued, the behemoth reached out and shook hands with his brother. He responded with a strong nod with a grin. He passed the gesture over to Shadowman; he earned slow nod and a slowly emerging smile. He turned over and shook hands with his Prince, who also returned the friendly grin.

They all turned to face the single cord as it began to unwind further.

“Look alive lads, there’s only one thing left to happen.” the Diarch commanded one last time.

“Yes sir.” All but Shadowman replied, but he joined in as they gave one last salute.

Time slowed as the tether groaned, and ever so slowly it twisted. Unwinding until…

Snap.

The group’s half was plunged into darkness as the image of the cord enveloped the screen. The sudden departure of the rest of the tether resulted in the music reaching its climax. There was a deathly silence as the broken cord hung there.

Thud.

Celestia and Luna sniffled softly as an acoustic version of the intro played to the credits. A child’s voice pulled on their heart strings. As she recited the lyrics so did the Diarchs.

Had they have not been singing, and Celestia’s sound proof barrier been put down, they would have heard the same thud outside near Crystal Lake.

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Miles away was Ponyville. A troublesome little town where something quickly spirals out of control. It rested past Crystal Lake and before the Everfree forest. The small town was home to wide variety of characters, one of which was about to get her wish. A literal tree-house, given that it the building was made out of a still living Oak tree. Inside a small sniffling mare quickly flicked off the TV in her room and rolled over in her bed. The lavender unicorn turned to face the stars.

Why did they kill them off? The good guys always win! That’s how it always is and is to be. She thought, mourning the loss of her idol.

A purple lizard, stirred at the sound of her repressed weeping, before turning over. He was too young for such a violent show, but she did treat him to the occasional filly friendly episode, after she had checked it of course.

What caught her attention, as she stroked her tail and wished to once again own Mrs Smarty Pants, was the way her horn would not stop glowing.

“huh? How long has that been…”

Boom

She was cut off by an faint explosion.

“What the hay?” she whispered to herself, looking out of the window. Still keeping the tears at bay, she tried to find out what the noise was. She couldn’t see anything, she gazed towards the Everfree.

Nothing.

She looked towards Crystal Lake, but found her view obscured by numerous houses.

She dismissed it as her imagination and returned to her grieving. Shortly after, she managed to squeak one last word, before drifting off into a deep sleep.

“Frank.” Her eyes finally closed for the rest of the night.

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The group awoke, feeling the pain of when they sprang forward and slammed against the floor. The resultant force knocked them out cold. It appeared that the ship had self-righted and was now, almost, horizontal. The sound of water sloshing all around them told them they were alive, for now. Prince Albert knew that the ship would be slowly taking on water and would sink soon, but couldn’t fathom as to why there was so much water around them in the first place.

Morning sun crept in and blinded each member. Everybody remained lying down, feeling the disorientating effects of regaining consciousness overwhelm them.

“Frank, you dead?” Hank asked.

“Yeah, I’m chilling with my good friend pain, courtesy of your elbow in my gut.” He responded viscously. Hank kept his elbow in his brothers gut, but not of his own will.

“I think I’ve fucked up my arm.” He tried to twist and was met with a searing pain. “Yea I think it’s broken.” He concluded.

“What about the Prince?” Frank asked, scouting the room. Both brothers turned to face the Prince and found him resting against the helm. Water was lapping up across his thighs.

“Just peachy.” He groaned and tried to find his final friend.

“Shadowman if you’re dead say ‘BEHOLD THE VOICE OF GOD.’” Frank mocked. He didn’t need hear him to know he was knocking about somewhere.

“He has gone to fetch aid. I do not know where we are, but we are in no condition to move around. My ankle is sprained, and someone had to watch you guys.” he replied, grimacing at the throbbing pain in his ankle.

“What about the enemy, surely they’ll be coming down the mountain to get us.” Hank added, using his arm to pull the broken one onto his lap.

“You’re not going to believe this, but the hanger? It’s gone, so is the mountain.”

The brothers looked at each other. Frank stood up and hobbled to the flooded window, still clutching his stomach.

“I’ll be damned.” He whispered.

Outside he gazed upon a vast amount of greenery, and beautiful lake, and what appeared to a village off in the distance. Tall trees, shaded 50 varieties of both brown and green, encircled a large majority of the water. The single gap revealed what appeared to be a medieval town. What shocked him the most was how quite a tranquil the small patch of paradise seemed. However, what left him with a mortified expression was how the mountain had disappeared.

“Okay. Where are we?” The intellectual could not recall the location of this lake, how they got there, but more importantly where the mountain had moved to.

“I have no idea. Hopefully Shadowman can answer that if he makes contact with the locals.” Prince Albert stated. Given the situation he found his team in, he hoped relief would arrive fast.

“Yeah I can see how that goes down. Whilst he is either paying charades or pictionary, we are stuck here,” the genius helped his brother up off the floor, “waiting for them to guess.” he continued highly annoyed.

“He has never us failed before, and I trust he will succeed yet again.” His majesty was hoisted out of the water by the titan using his still functioning arm.

“Meanwhile let us wait outside, I believe this wreck will be amongst the bed rock shortly.” As they all limped away from the wreckage, the member of royalty had one last thing to say.

“Told you we’d make it.”

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Outside they had managed to get a fire going to dry off; they could see the remains of the ship slowly sliding out into the center of the lake. They took note of the thrusters which were missing, the zeppelin that had drifted away and the man in a trench coat returning.

He seemed to be stumbling about, but kept is head perfectly parallel to the floor. He ignored the concerned looks of his comrades, and avoided the questions he was asked. He sat down on a rock opposite his Prince.

After staring into space, for what seemed like hours, he was shaken back to reality by a question.

“What are the locals like? Shadow, are they hostile?” interrogated his leader, shaking him by the shoulders. His trench coat fell of, revealing a skin tight black training vest and twin bracelets. Under his arms was a collection of knives.

He shrugged in response and began using sign language.

“This must be serious.” Albert replied, mentally translating the hand movements. He recognised one word, but the other two were a mystery.

“Well don’t leave us in the dark.” added Hank to the one-sided conversation. He used his brothers denim jacket as a sling, leaving Frank with is green T-shirt and jeans.

“What is it boy, did Timmy fall in the well?” Frank mocked, pretending to be worried for the fictional boy.

“No that can’t be right. Are you sure? That would be impossible.” Albert stated in disbelief at what he heard. Or read to be precise.

Then the human shadow did something he saves for the most disturbing of events. Times when he was truly shocked, appalled or when not taken seriously. A simple gesture, but one that would always turned heads and gained followers in his beliefs.

He removed his custom shades.

The group’s eyes widened at the realisation that what he had explained was true. Only Albert knew the true gravity of the situation. Shadow shot each a glance, lasting half a minute, with his hazel eye. He returned the glasses to their resting place.

“Well?” Hank pressed on.

“If he is telling the truth, then in that village live ponies.”

“Ponies?” Frank said sceptically.

“It gets worse. Horned and winged multi-coloured ponies too.” The informant nodded slowly.

“Bullshit he’s lying!” Hank yelled. Immediately a blade slid out of one of the bracelets on Shadowman’s arm. It was the exact length of his forearm. Hank realised that he may not be lying after all.

“You can’t expect us to believe this. Look, Shadow, you might have a concussion. You can frown all you want but listen to… think about… recall what you just gestured. You just said… charaded that there is a village filled with ponies, unicorns and pegasi. I don’t believe you. Oh put that knife away before you cut yourself. I will believe you when I am friends with a fucking pink pony with a habit of digesting cake.

“Well you’re in luck mister grumpy potty-mouth pants; we can have an ‘I found a pink pony, who is my best friend, and likes to eat cake’ party. Oh, we can also have a ‘welcome to Ponyville’, a ‘we are not mythological party’ and a ‘I nearly escaped the number one hide and seek champion’ party.” a new voice chirped.

The assassin felt something blunt pat his back. The group each turned to face an unexpected sight. There, perched next to Shadowman, sat a small candy pink pony. Her frizzy party pink mane seemed reached down to her eyes. Those dish like blue eyes, peered into Prince Albert’s soul. That painfully large grin caused the silent killer to edge away slowly.

“Hi! My name’s Pinkie Pie.”

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Author's Notes:

Author note's

What if the ponies were the bronies and the humans are the transported characters? I often wondered what ponies would see if they did a show about us humans. So I figured I stick with what I know: we can be killers for a cause and kind hearted saints. Notice how I said we can also be saints? Don't flame because you feel this will be another 'humans are bastards' fic. It won't. My characters won't be evil.... much.

Chapter 2: Myth? No. Pissed? Yes.

Earlier, minutes after being sent on a scouting mission.

Shadow man slowly crept amongst the outskirt soft the small town. He had been pondering about how to explore the uncharted territory, given that he had no way of knowing if the locals were hostile. The majestic sun light was an enemy for one who practised the art of stealth. His shadowy form would instantly be seen outside his timber sanctuary. The trees made ideal cover, gliding between each thick trunk, he soon reached the edge of the forest.

Although the path was a viable, more logical, choice; he might encounter patrols out here in enemy territory. Well he assumed he was in enemy territory.

He came to what appeared to be the bridge leading into town. He took note of the river below and considered his options. He also spied a cart, full of hay, resting on the apex of the stone bridge. He did a quick glance around, looking for any sign of life besides the birds bothering him. He flicked one away when it got to close and made a bee line for the cart. As he got closer, he lowered his stance and began creeping up to the cart. Carefully, he hopped into the abundant amount of hay, and nestled himself at the bottom.

“Thanks for the help, Quick Fix, the wife will be happy that her hairdryer is working again.” yelled a male voice.

“Anytime, Hay Bayle, give a shout if the thing tires out again.” another masculine voice replied, as the cart slowly moved towards its destination. Shadowman had made numerous little tunnels, giving him miniature windows, to see his surroundings. He needed to be able to retrace his steps.

He acknowledged the sound of hooves hitting cobble stone, and he started looking to his left. He studied what appeared to be the town hall. Two circular floors and a chocolate drop roof; he actually took a second to, mentally, compliment the design. His appreciation of architecture was cut short when he saw something that disrupted his understanding of the animal kingdom.

He saw three pastel coloured ponies. As if that wasn’t bad enough, it was the unique features that prevented him formulating any thought process.

A purple mare, dragging her hoof steps, appeared to be conversing amongst two others. She wore a baby blue saddle bag, a much duller shade to the cyan wonder floating above. She turned to face her and the man spotted the horn protruding out of her deep purple bangs.

The rainbow maned pony was maintaining a hover to the right of the smiling unicorn. The feathery wings flapped effortlessly as another pony bound around, hopping in all directions. The party pink blur only stopped for a second in mid-air, twitched her nose, ears, sneezed, and continued hopping around.

“Thanks guys, after last night I could do with cheering up. I can’t believe I almost cried over the end of a TV series.” The lavender pony snorted.

“Hey, it was a good show. Did you see the way Hank fought off all six guards. That was awesome; he didn’t even get a scratch.” The azure pegasus jabbed the air like an amateur boxer, shortly before doing a summersault and kicking the same spot.

The stalker was staring in disbelief. He didn’t even notice the cart stop, let alone hear the one called Hay Bayle leave. He was trying to solve how that pony knew about Hank, let alone how she had witness his fighting style hours ago. That fact that they were even talking didn’t hit him until he heard the next sentence.

“Yeah he was good, but Shadowman had more finesse. I prefer his style, silent and effective. He moved like a prancing phantom.” The unicorn replied merrily. Her companion waved her hoof and continued boxing against an unseen assailant.

The complement went straight over his head. His mind was trying to comprehend how these mythological creatures, which deeply disturbed him, knew about his team mates, why they were discussing his near death experience as if it was a performance, and finally how the heck he was getting out of this Hell hole.

“Hey Pinkie, you seem quiet. I know you didn’t watch the show but you normally ask us what we’re talking about. Did you touch more poison joke or something?” The sporty mare asked the bouncing ball of fur.

She stopped bounding around; finally Shadowman got a good look at her. Cotton candy hair, both style and colour, vibrant pink coat, and three balloons tattooed to her flank. She extended her neck and glanced around, bringing a hoof above her blue eyes, and scowling at everything she spied.

Shadowman ducked in his nest, quickly avoiding her gaze.

“Nope, I’m just looking for the new pony in town, he’s here somewhere. My pinkie sense says he’s nearby.” He heard a bubbly voice bid her friends farewell and trot around the cart. He checked and could see that the other two…creatures had left.

A grave mistake.

“Hi. Are you the new pony? You can come out you know. Come on, I have the welcome wagon! You can sleep in the hay later, let’s party!” He heard the same voice chirp. He didn’t move.

“Oh. Do you wanna play Hide and seek? Oh boy, you’re fun! Tag!” He was soon nearly assaulted by a pink tentacle. The space invading hoof waved around inches from his face. If he was going to escape it was now.

He quickly rolled out, covering the energetic pony in a monsoon of hay. He turned back, saw a small stack of hay with two eyes blinking, and ran towards the nearby alley ways. In the dark shadows, he witnessed the mare shake off the hay, put an ear to the ground, leap up, and dash off.

He figured he was safe, but thought she had gone to alert the local authorities to his presence. He slid along the walls, switching between looking at the exit and the entrance, and made his way away from the cart. Glancing around, he noticed large a quantity of more ponies, unicorns and pegasi. He appeared to have stumbled across the market place, he spied all sort so fruits and veg, some even seemed alien to him.

The vibrant rainbow spectrum of colours made him polish his shades. After giving up all hope of comprehending the situation, he planned and escape route. The tree line was coming into view, which raised his spirits.

He spotted a few more alley ways across the road, leading towards his new destination. He decided try and creep amongst the parked carriages. As tempted as he was to steal one, he soon realised he would need a horse to pull it, resulting in a need for one of the ponies. He took a quick look back, between two of the carriages, and spied a humorous sight. A muscle bound pegasus, short blond crew cut, walking around with tiny wings. He dubbed him the ‘Hank pony’ and restrained a small smile.

After reaching the alley way, littered with bins, boxes and the occasional newspaper, he heard a familiar voice.

“AHA! Found you!” The playful pony had returned, this time with a hot air balloon. He watched in horror as the woven basket fit snuggly in the alley way. She grinned and outstretched a hoof, by which point he had darted towards the exit. She closed the gap as the balloon dragged the basket along the floor at alarming speed. Still she poked her tongue out and strained her arm, stretching it closer to the back of his trench coat.

He barely managed to turn the corner when the mare was an inch away. Quickly dodging her reach, he darted for the bridge. He saw the balloon land and deflate, and a little pink space hopper, when he jumped over a fence. He was sprinting when he spotted a small butter blob in the middle of the road. He took note of the head cowering underneath the rosy mane, the folded wings, and the tiny squeak, as he launched himself over it. After realising he might have scared a pony, he took a quick peek over his shoulder.

His purser was mere meters away.

He had only managed to cross the bridge. He pushed his body to its limits, grinding his teeth, he breached the tree line. He lengthen his strides and bound between the trees, sometimes bouncing between tree trunks to further the distance between the persistent pony and himself.

Finally he slowed down and looked back. After a solid half an hour of running he was completely exhausted. He nervously glanced around, rapidly breathing, and saw what he was looking for.

Trees. More trees and shrubbery. No more pink menace.

He smiled triumphantly, heart still pounding. Although he was sure she had the last laugh. On the way back to the wreckage, his mind soon numbed. He was contemplating what he had witnessed and how he was going to break it to his leader.

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“Tag you're it! That was fun!” chirped the pony named Pinkie Pie, poking her prey.

He responded by letting his eyebrows drop and flatten, before simply rolling over. He didn’t understand anything anymore, nor did he wish to. He lay across the rock, wondering what he did to deserve this punishment.

Frank’s and Hank’s jaw fell. Right in front of them, giggling at a high pitch, was the imaginary pink pony Frank had joked about. The brothers were stunned, Frank’s rational mind started shutting down and he joined Shadowman on the rock.

“You…you can…talk?” Prince Albert barely managed to pronounce. Whilst the others were fighting the madness of the situation, he chose to accept it, out of curiosity.

“Well duh. I mean, everpony can talk, unless they don’t know how too, or worse, can’t all. Can you imagine not being able to talk? I don’t have to, it was horrible. This zebra named Zecora, she’s really nice by the way, tried to warn us about this funny plant that plays pranks on you. So anyway I got some poison joke on me- that’s the name of the plant- and my tongue went all swollen like thipsshh. Ipshh realshy harmd tew sshhpeeakksh lllikshps thipshsh.” Albert removed the spittle from his brow as the mare grinned sheepishly. He was amazed that something could talk for so long, so fast, and not be out of breath. She apologised and pouted.

“That’s fine. I think these ponies mean us no harm.” He looked around to see his squad look up from their stupor. They stared at him, given the arched eyebrow of Shadowman, combined with the frown from both brothers, he could tell they disagreed.

“Oh I would never hurt a pony. That’s not a nice way to welcome anypony to Ponyville.” the pony quickly took offense, scrunching up her face and frowning. Frank immediately kicked his brain back into gear.

“Ponyville? Oh you are joking. I thought we were near Stalliongrad! What a moronic name for a village.” mocked the angered man. That ridiculous name brought him back form the edge of insanity.

“Hey that’s mean. If you want to know where Stalliongrad is, it is 327 and three quarter miles that way.” The irritated pony said, pointing to her right.

The ponytailed man quiet downed as he was told that A: the place existed, and B: he had actually conversed with a talking pony.

“Sorry about my colleague, but we are a little shaken up. We are also injured. I don’t suppose you could aid us in recovery. We would be eternally grateful Mrs Pie.” the Prince beseeched, using his diplomacy skills. As was the case of meeting any of the people of is kingdom, if they required his aid he would shift to a more serious tone. As was the case if he needed anybody’s skills.

Hank was still recovering. His method of recovery often involved thinking of the good things in life. Delicious meals, succulent sweets, and even more exotic delicacies, calmed his mind when on the move. Given her name, he immediately recounted every pie he had ever tasted. He was up to 56 different varieties so far.

“Oh please call me Pinkie, all my friends call me Pinkie.” She beamed another smile, but then her hair suddenly deflated. That ridiculously large grin instantly turned into a small pout. “You're hurt? Oh no. We gotta get you to Ponyville right away. Then when you’re all fixed up we can party.”

Hank was not too happy. He objected to the idea, with a lot more profanity than was necessary, claiming it was a trap. Unfortunately for him, the group had no other choice, and reluctantly followed their guide.

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The injured Prince was supported by the black figure, as they followed the path. Hank made sure to his younger sibling walked between him and the bouncing ball of fur. He despised how kind and helpful she was being. He kept thinking that even the most adorable animal, can easily become a viscous threat. Given that she was, admittedly, the cutest thing he ever laid eyes upon, he assumed she was just as capable of further injuring the man.

Frank meanwhile was slowly accepting that he had indeed died and was in Hell. Every hop of the energetic mare was only a slight irritation, were as before he was tempted to ground her permanently. He didn’t need her defying physics on top of this, when she paused in mid-air and reminded them they were getting closer.

Shadowman was the calmest, not that you could tell difference, but he was given a head start to accept the mythological beings, when he was fleeing town. He gave the giddy guide the occasional glance, but primarily focused on his Prince’s ankle. He watched it like a hawk, making sure not to let too much pressure get it.

Prince Albert was conflicted. His scowl seemed to be aimed at his injury, but in his mind he was trying to comprehend the situation. He was failing.

What do you remember? The tether snapped, you braced for impact, slammed into the helm and… and?

There was a purple flash.

His mind couldn’t understand. The last thing he saw was the zeppelin rapidly ascend, followed by him and the squad jerking forwards. He crashed into the helm and… there was a purple flash before he lost consciousness.

“Here we are! Nurse Fluttershy is visiting Twilight, to get some books on herbal tea, she’ll help you guys out. We should go to the Library.”

“The Library? Would a hospital not be a better option?” The Prince was confused, why would a library a more suitable place to treat the wounded? More importantly who is Fluttershy?

“A hospital is for ponies not… wait what are you?” Pinkie had even amazed herself that she had forgotten to ask who and what these creatures were.

“What am I? Is it not obvious little equine? We are Humans. The giant to your far left is called Hank,” Hank gave a short grunt refusing to talk properly, “And the slender man to your left is named Frank.”

“Hey.” He replied morbidly.

“Hello.” Pinkie chirped, bouncing to his eye level. She still wore a smile even when his frown deepened.

“My comrade under my arm is labelled Shadowman. Nobody knows his real name.”

“Oh I know you! You are fun, wanna tag again when you’re all patched up?” He looked at her and shook his head.

“Okey Dokey Lokie.” She wasn’t even put off in the slightest.

“I am Prince Albert, Diarch of Primane.” he announced bringing more power into is voice. Pinkie pie stopped dead in her tracks. She turned and looked at him worryingly.

“Oh, I am so sorry! I didn’t know!” she bowed her head and lowered her body. “I’m so sorry your majesty.”

Hank grinned. He liked the fact she realised who she was messing with.

“It is okay little one; I am surprised you did not recognise me. You may rise.” He said warmly.

Pinkie pie, once again, smiled happily. She seemed to be in deep though they crossed the bridge.

“Where’s Prime mane?” she asked curiously. The humans looked at each other as if she had started speaking in a foreign language.

“This land, you know the one you refuse to remain tethered to, is called Primane. It belongs to your lord over here.” Hank pointed out, nodding towards his Prince.

“No this is Equestria silly filly.” She giggled; Prince Albert was bamboozled to say the least. Someone had stated he did not own the land rightfully his. “Princess Celestia and Princess Luna own all of Equestria. I don’t know where…Prime mane? Even is.” she remarked scratching her head.

“No this is PRIMANE,” Hank said sternly as the group approached a deflated air balloon, “There is no such place as Equestria.” He finished in a less harsh tone.

“Nu-uh.” She said lighting a small flame. Soon the balloon sprang into the sky. “I lived here long enough to know this place is called Equestria, well this place is called bridge lane, in Ponyville. But the land is called Equestria."

“Well then, it is clear we are being escorted by an idiot, can you just get us some help?” Frank sniped.

“That’s mean!” The mare returned with a wobbly lip. Her mane deflated, and her eyes watered.

“Frank apologise.” The Prince was restraining is fury. Had he not injured himself he would put the man in his place. “Now.” He said more sternly.

With a deep sigh, he realised he had stepped over a line. One he rarely enjoyed doing without either good intention, or good reason. He had neither when he hurt the pony helping him.

“I am sorry. This is stressful. If what you say is true, then we are incredible far away from home. Still that is no reason to insult your intelligence; your knowledge is saving us after all. Can you forgive me?” he asked sincerely, a small hint of shame in his eyes.

“Yes.” She trotted over and hugged him, she had to stand on her back hooves, but she managed to hang her fore hooves over his shoulder. He awkwardly wrapped his arms around her back, surprised by the sudden display of affection. The smell of cotton candy stirred a strange emotion. He was…happy. Why was he happy? He did not know, but his arms jerked as he released her.

Albert and Hank smiled at the peaceful resolution, Shadowman watched the pony back off into the basket with an emotionless mask.

“Come on mister grumpy pants, we can use the balloon since it’s an emergency.” She beckoned the group over. They acknowledged it was for the best to keep the prince off the ankle, so resting on the rim of the hovering basket did seem more beneficial than walking.

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“Oh it was just awful Twilight. I was making my way over here, when that thing ran straight for me. I was terrified.” Fluttershy recalled the incident earlier in the morning. The softness in her voice matched the shade of yellow she had for her coat.

“That horrid hour has come to past; you can finally rest at last.” a black and white striped pony added, resting a hoof on her shoulder. The zebra looked into her friends teal eyes. The timid pegasus soon smiled back at her warming gesture.

“Zecora’s right Fluttershy. That thing didn’t hurt you, and by the sound of things, it didn’t want to either.” The purple unicorn reassured.

They were gathered around a table made out of a tree stump. In the center rested a carving of a stallion’s head, in a faded shade of lime, as well as other items relevant to the purpose of the meeting.

A copy of ‘homemade brews and teas just for you and company’ was the original purpose of the meeting; Fluttershy had planned to pick it up, after Zecora had finished using it; three empty tea cups, already being refilled by a teapot that was suspended in purple aura. There was a scroll, amongst the others which were already used and set aside, this one was meant to be a letter to the highest authority in the land: Princess Celestia.

“What you need is a calming brew, may I suggest page thirty-two?” Zecora opened the book and passed towards her friend to her left. The quite pony studied the recipe, smiled, and then beamed happily to the zebra.

“I can make this when I get home. Thanks girls.” The butterscotch pony lifted her tea to her lips, tasted the fine concoction and sighed happily.

“Anytime Fluttershy, we’re your friends after all. I would still like a description of this thing; you haven’t told us what it looked like. It could have been a pony for all we know.” Twilight levitated her tea, took a quick sip and set the tea cup down.

“No. It was not a pony. It looked completely different.” Insisted the pegasus.

“Oh I’m sorry. Did I interrupt you?” The pony held the worried look, even whilst Twilight reassured her that she was fine. Meanwhile Zecora had finished her tea.

“Dear Twilight here is the lotion, to put rapid healing into motion. Apply to broken bones or wounds twice. No more, no less should suffice.” The potion master placed a jar of red jelly on the counter as she left the library. Twilight thanked her and engulfed the jar in a purple glow. The scarlet vessel flew across the room, before gently landing in an opened cupboard labelled ‘First aid’.

“Oh filly, I forgot to ask her for some Twining leaves.” The pony, once again, wore a worried look, staring at the door.

“Don’t worry. You can have some of mine. Princess Celestia often sends me too much anyway.” The unicorn chirped. Her friend regained that merry smile. She was drinking up the final pool of the dark tea, when Twilight decided to ask her a question.

“Do you want to describe this ‘thing’ that supposedly attacked you, by jumping over you before running away?” she asked, still sceptical about the idea it had injured her in some way.

“Well…If you want to.” The mare looked away. Fortunately, Twilight rolled her eyes when the yellow pony’s view was blocked by her rose mane.

Dipping her floating quill in ink, she asked “So tell me, what this ‘new’ creature look like?” she hid her disbelief with a smile; Fluttershy did often mistake her own shadow as a monster.

“Well it looked…” The pegasus was cut off by a loud thud, coming from the second story balcony.

“Twilight? Fluttershy? Are you in here?” Pinkie Pie was seen overlooking the upstairs railing.

“Pinkie Pie? What are…you…doing…here?” Twilight finished slowly. What was starting to fill up on the second floor had taken her immediate attention.

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“Ah my lady of the exotic land, how might a colt such as I help such a divine equine today?” A blue colt complimented behind a stall. His smirk grew when Zecora blushed. He straightened his mane as she gingerly approached the fruit stall.

“Oh Mr Bell, you know how to treat a mare well.” She gave him a small smile, still bearing a crimson shade to her cheeks.

“Not just any mare Mrs Zecora.” He replied, leaning closer.

“Ms Zecora that would be, I have not yet found the colt for me.” She responded sheepishly.

We’ll see about that. Go on ask her. he commanded himself.

“Well maybe I could help. I appeared to have booked a table for two at the ‘Rose and thorn’ restaurant. As foolish as I am, you have given me a brilliant idea. Perhaps we could, say, find you a stallion at three PM Tuesday?” he added slyly. Of course she understood the meaning of the invite, she was not a foal, but neither was she one to reveal her excitement.

“Perhaps, we shall see. You might wish to still be there past three.” She responded studying her hoof, he was worried until the small grin crept across her face.

“Well I’ll keep the champagne in the ice until you’re there. In any case, would you like the usual? With discount of course.” he asked returning to his business stature.

“That would be a wonderful boon; yes-wait, is that Miss Pie in a balloon?” She tried to block the sun’s light with her hoof, but she could only make out the silhouette of Ponyville’s party pony. She watched as the hot air balloon landed on one of the balconies of the Library. Had the branches not been in the way, she may have seen four strange creatures disembark.

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“Twilight, Fluttershy, can you help my new friends? They’re lost and injured, and he’s really grumpy as well.” She pointed to Frank, who shrugged it off with a scowl on his face. Frank and Hank welcomed themselves in, slowly trudging through the doorway. They rested on the railing, just as Prince Albert and Shadowman left the basket case.

“Are you hurt?” Fluttershy gracefully flew up to the second floor; her instincts to care for injured animals had overridden her concern for her wellbeing. Upon coming inches away from the broken arm, Hank suddenly moved his injured limb away, raising his hand defensively.

Moments before he was about to ask her to back off, he fell under the hypnotic effect of her voice. He allowed her to undo the makeshift sling and analyse the appendage.

Meanwhile Twilight’s mind was burning out. She recognised what these things were. Her eyes widened and focused purely on her idol: Frank. With each twitch, a single strand of hair sprang out of place, with each passing second her quill began writing the following:

Dear Princess Celestia

I am sure you are aware of the ‘My big human series’: the cartoon that ponies either love or hate? You should watch at least the first few episodes, it is a brilliant CARTOON. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you I am a ‘humare’, probably from the sheer embarrassment. I first became interested when I came across that book on ancient Equestrian MYTHOLOGY, around a year ago, and humans became present for a couple of chapters. Well the MADE UP creatures are the focus group of the program.
And guess what?

They’re in my library. Please send help, either you or a psychiatrist.

Your faithful, mentally unstable, student

Twilight Sparkle.

“Spike could you please send this.” she had held the scroll out was expecting her number one assistant to burn it, alas he was missing. She couldn’t do anything else until the scroll was sent off to her mentor. She remained standing there, eerily smiling at Shadowman as he continued to hold Prince Albert up.

“Oh you poor thing, you must be in so much pain.” cooed Fluttershy.

Hank pushed his chest out, and wore a cocky grin. “Oh yeah, I had forgotten I was supposed to be in pain.” he calmly stated as inspected his finger nails.

“Well you just wait here and we’ll…fix…you…eep!” The pegasus’ wings locked up, she fell to the floor, and tried to hide under her hooves. The titan cocked his head, looked at his brother, then over to the sight she had hid from.

He could only see Shadow man dusting his trench coat, after propping Albert against the railing.

“Err…Miss? Did my squad mate scare you?” He asked with slight concern. The timid pony nodded without removing her hooves from her head.

He sighed, restraining the urge to cave in. The sight was adorable, a timid little pony, shivering and squeaking. Still that thought of this being a trap lingered in his mind.

“Trust me. He does not want to hurt you. You can get up now.”

No response.

“Hey, I said he’s okay. You don’t have to be scared of him.” He said raising his voice slightly.

She squeaked and continued to hide under her mane.

“That’s it Hank, use those exceptional people skills.” His brother tapped him on the back. He heard Twilight laughing from below.

He saw her messy mane, twitching eye, and the levitating scroll. He quickly turned away to avoid the automatic process of analysing the impossible feat.

“Shadowman, I think you need to get over here. You’ve already scared a pony.” Shadowman arched an eyebrow, leant the side, and nodded, finally understanding what he said.

The terrified pony heard slowly moving footsteps moving across the wooden floor. She took a peak, and regretted it. The monster from before was heading towards her.

The phantom cocked his head, looked at both Hank and Frank, then shrugged. He recognised the same faded yellow bundle of fur as the one that nearly tripped him earlier that morning.

“Well you gotta fix it.” Hank replied.

“Use that silver tongue of yours. So far your charm has landed us in a Library, instead of hospital, receiving aid from ponies, instead of doctors. Care to tell me what your words can’t do?” mocked Frank; he received a swift kick to the knee, once again scaring the pony.

Shadowman rubbed the bridge of his nose, and sighed.

“Well it’s not an apology, but it’s a start.” Frank commented. Shadowman raised his leg, about to send it into the nuisance’s chest, when he remembered the previous result.

He massaged his forehead, and lowered his stance. He was squatting and looking at the pathetic sight before him. Small, weak, shivering, scared…overwhelmed…outnumbered…losing hope. He shook his head once, to bat away a few distant memories, and looked back at the butter blob before him.

He let out another sigh. She looked up and saw him. She gazed into his reflective shades, saw the fear in her own eyes, and quickly hid again. He waited. When Hank informed her that Shadowman didn’t talk and was trying to apologies, she gave a sympathetic look.

His expression remained neutral. It worried her slightly, but he slowly raised a gloved hand and separated each finger.

She looked at it, and then at him with confusion. The edges on his lips dipped, revealing for a split second a hint of sorrow. Gingerly she raised her hoof. It was still shaking when it was a millimetre away. Eventually she rested it against his black hand. She felt the warmth of his hand pass through his gloves and into her hoof. He gave a small smile, which she slowly returned.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were going to hurt me before. Why were you running so fast?” He replied by pointing towards Pinkie Pie, who was still explaining that they were in Equestria to Prince Albert.

“Oh. Pinkie pie does sometimes like to play a lot of games. She didn’t scare you did she?” she replied more confidently.

He shook his head and smiled, but she still looked worried.

“If you don’t mind me asking but…could you tell me why you don’t talk?” His eyebrow slowly crept up, pulling a smirk with it.

“I mean if…you want to talk abou…” She trailed off into a mumble. Hank decided to explain that nobody knows why he doesn’t speak, so she shouldn’t take it personally. That reassured her a little, but not as much as when Frank joked saying he was normally shy. Although he wouldn’t admit it, given that he was normally mute, he did find social interaction awkward at times.

“Can you speak? I mean if you wanted to? You’re not injured are you?” he nodded to answer the first and second, the shook his head to answer the third question, and slowly rose back up. She was at least able to accept that he chose not to speak to anyone.

The Pinkie pie soon dragged Fluttershy into the her debate over who’s land this is. Soon there was a heated discussion involving humans versus ponies. Well three humans and one pink pony who could argue for the sake of two more.

Shadowman had decided to sneak away, slowly walking back. He motioned for Fluttershy, who was in obvious distress, to follow. The two sat quietly, not talking, but content with watching the debate in silence.

Meanwhile Twilight was still grinning, waiting for her number one assistant to obey her last request. Sure enough he entered the Library.

“Hey, Twilight sorry I took so long, but Rarity needed help and so did…Rainbow Dash.” The little purple reptile stopped giving an excuse when she swiftly turned to face him. He trembled under her mad gaze.

“Send. This. To. Celestia.” She pronounced the last word with an unusually high chirp, before giggling madly.

“Okay.” The small dragon gulped, took a deep breath, and exhaled a green fire. Jade smoke flew away from the burning scroll until there was nothing left to incinerate.

“Hey Twilight, sorry I had to borrow Spike for a…” A rainbow blur shot into the room catching Hanks attention, and stopped just before him. Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth dropped. The giant was confused and just stared back. Both he and Frank were worried when her magenta eyes slowly sparkled and dilated. A large grin slowly started emerging.

“Yeah he’s ugly. I can see why you find it funny. Go ahead, poke him with a stick.” Not only did he receive a smack from his brother, but also a clip from the pegasus. The elder looked back at her with curiosity as the younger cradle his head. She smiled sheepishly, he peered at his brother rolling on the floor, and looked back at the cyan pegasus.

“Nice arm you got there.” he added flatly. She had stopped being a potential threat and was deemed: an acquaintance with decent standards.

She grinned again. “A…You… I” She wanted to say a million things. She wanted to ask a thousand more questions. She also wanted to know where Twilight found them.

Wait, Twilight. She thought. Swiftly returning to her friend, she took note of the baby dragon gawking at the guests. She ignored his questions focused on the lavender unicorn, still grinning psychotically at Frank.

“Whoa, Twilight how did you do this? Why didn’t you tell me you had Hank in your bedroom?” The fan side of her dissipated as an idea popped into her head.

A sinister dark idea.

“You didn’t…you know.” She said hoping the answer would be no.

“Have sex? No.” She said, smiling and closing her eyes merrily. Still grinning madly after she opened her eyes, she still remained facing Hank, who was unaware of her predatorily gaze. Spike did a double take.

“Phew. For a moment I thought you were a fapper then Twilight.” She chucked to herself.

“Oh in that case, don’t check my private chest, under my bed.” She replied, not realising what she had said in her stupor.

“Okay now tell me…wait what?” replied Rainbow dash. She thought she heard what she desperately wanted to never pass her eardrums.

“Do you want to know how I did it?” She asked turning to face the pegasus.

“Well yeah, but you just…” finally she took notice in her frazzled mane, “err Twilight are you feeling okay?”

“I’ll tell you. I lost my mind! My favourite fictional character is in my library hehe.” She giggled, before slowly erupting into a fit if laughter. She stopped and still facing Rainbow Dash, moved her eyes towards each of the humans. Rainbow Dash grabbed her and shook her.

“Twilight you’re not crazy. They are really here!” She screamed trying to earn her attention.

The humans stopped bickering and looked down.

“Of course they’re not real. Humans are mythological.” She pronounced the last word with a sing song voice, before disappearing in a purple flash. Prince Albert took notice the flash, but was distracted by the purple unicorn reappearing amongst the humans.

“You, you, you and you are not real,” she chirped pointing at each one, “If they were real could I do this?” She trotted towards Albert, smiled at him and poked his knee cap. Her eyes shot open; she wasn’t expecting to make contact. The mad look in her eyes, as well as the twitching, vanished as her pupils dilated.

“Little one, do believe me when I say we are all real. It is us who should be worrying about your existence in Primane.” the Prince replied, with a grin on his face.

“Equestria!” barked Pinkie from behind him.

“You’re…you’re…you’re.”

“Wow, first Shadowman gets us invited to magical stable, disguised as a village, and now your words have the ability to break the ponies. I wonder what my super power is.” commented Frank, admiring his lord’s handy work.

“I think it’s how you can summon a river of shit to flow out of your….Will you stop staring at me!” He turned to see the cyan speedster hovering at eye level. He flinched at the sudden movement as a sharp spike of pain bolted up his injured right arm.

“Can someone give a hand over here?” He asked anybody who still cared about him.
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In Celestia’s private chambers; the Princess had been busy signing many documents, writing out new laws, and stamping the seal of approval upon suggested policies and aid requests. Occasionally she treated herself to a new batch of caramel carrot, but was slightly concerned for the size of her flank. A new rigorous regime, hidden in the private garden, was slowly taking effect.

Away from prying eyes, talkative employees and most importantly, school fillies with cameras, she was able to trot and gallop and burn of calories to maintain her figure.

The sun was at its highest when Celestia stopped working for a moment to perform her most vital royal duty: moving the sun. Her pearl white horn was surrounded by golden aura. She scrunched her face, and strained her powers. Soon after, the sun jerked forwards and the shadows slid into the correct position. Although this time, Celestia had moved the sun to bother her sleeping sister, as punishment for discovering her secret last night.

However, today she was feeling morbid; with her favourite show gone and no repeats for a while, she had a lot of free time. She considered writing another fanfic, or reading through more ponies on earth stories to pass the time. Although ponies on earth were her favourite category, she was starting to become enraged with the amount of romances that popped up.

Not that she despised the combined genres, she had written a few herself; it was how by the third chapter the characters had realised they had strong feelings for each other and proclaimed their love. No actual plot or build up, just a simple complement and they were knocking hooves.

What ticked her off the most was how, if a human came to Equestria, they became ponies. Now she was aware that it was possible to transform one species to another, but the amount of times a human instantly metamorphosed into a pony was astronomical.

Still, she was guilty of turning her favourite human into an alicorn and embarking on a grand romantic adventure.

She sighed and gladly finished her work, and pulled out a stack of papers. She levitated a quill and began to ponder over what to write. Tapping the point against her lip, inspiration struck after mere minutes.

The quill furiously scribbled amongst the parchment. The paper began to fill up, like a tattoo; slowly an imaginary picture was being painted. Black ink was dragged around, creating small symbols, soon forming words and sentences. Translating the story in her head onto paper was an effortless task; it was finding the rest of the story that stopped her in her tracks. She hit a barrier: the dreaded writers block. Before she could groan, as her mind once again failed her, a scroll appeared with a flash.

“Hmmm, I wonder what Twilight has discovered about friendship this time? Perhaps it may be more than just that. Twenty-three, and still single. Why did I give her a library to go to of all places? She’s no better than Frank and that silly Laboratory of his.” she chuckled to herself. She kept the smile as she read the scroll.

From the smile you’d give a child taking their first steps, she rapidly felt horror pull her face down into a panicked expression.

“Oh sweet Cele...me!” she yelled before departing in a blinding flash of light.

Chapter 3: Divide and conquer.

"What is it? Smells like Albert's cooking." Hank asked, wondering about the freshly opened jar of red jelly. From what he gathered he could see a few skins of some fruit on the surface.

"I resent that! I only used too much spice that one time, besides my cooking is normally outstanding." The Prince was massaging his ego as well as the sprained ankle, despite Fluttershy's request, which quickly became an order.

He watched, sitting by the table downstairs, as the one called Rainbow Dash giggled to herself. She recalled an episode in season 3 where the cook was gravely ill. As a result, the small group had to assemble a meal fit for a peace conference. Despite Hank's warning, he managed to pour too much chilli powder onto the mixture.

By the end of the episode the royal kitchen, the halls and every guard’s backside was on fire, Shadowman was engaged to a duchess against his will, and the prince smelt like garlic and skunk juice. He spent weeks soaking in the bath, just to remove the garlic stench.

"With my supervision. Ooh that's cold." shivered the titan. Fluttershy had, to her, bravely dipped her hoof in the foul smelling mixture, and was slowly applying it to the contorted arm.

Twilight had remained silent, not in the crazy way like before, but still confused never the less. She caught the occasional glance of Frank, who was looking back intrigued with her form, before quickly looking away. She was wondering if she was studying her physiology or judging her silently. He stopped looking when he could sense the awkwardness in her movements, and focused on the energetic pony and her small purple reptilian friend.

Pinkie was dragging her facial features around, groaning and blowing raspberries. Spike made his own attempts to pull humorous faces, and also directed them to Shadowman. He sat down on a chair at the back, elbow resting on the table to support his head. The pair had being trying for ten minutes to get him to laugh, or at least smile.

He appeared bored.

"Okay one more time Mr Hank, it says apply twice." Fluttershy said, gingerly reapplying the offensive mixture.

"Call me Hank." He realised his mistrust may have been misplaced after all. He warmed up, slightly, to the timid mare and the cyan pegasus. He didn't trust the quiet purple one, or the strange pink 'battery' he dubbed.

"Okay Hank. That's a nice name." she said, attempting to distract herself from the jelly. She scrunched her face up, and he smiled.

"My Full name is..."

Hank the Tank: the strongest man in all of Primane. the azure speedster mentally quoted, before he had even finished saying 'the Tank.' She was sitting next to him, eyeing up the size of the muscles on his working arm.

"That's a pretty cool achievement, but since Primane isn't real, you can't prove it." taunted the fan-mare, waiting for the results.

"It is real! I can probably take you with one hand, heck with only three fingers." He swiftly gave her that look. Her favourite look. One she knew had meant a challenge was waiting; a physical test to size each other up. She wouldn't admit it, ever, but one hearts warming eve she did ask for hoof wrestling match. It came two years late.

"Oh yeah? Prove it." She narrowed her eyes and grinned, he returned the gesture...until his arms started tingling.

Looking back, he spotted the red mixture bubbling, the strangely sweet smell from the burst bubbles, and the way his arm was moving itself. It slowly extended itself; he was worried not to be feeling any pain.

He wouldn't have to worry for much longer.

Everyone and pony winced as his arm crackled, jerked, and generally moved on its own accord. Hank was growling, gritting his teeth at the pain, scaring both Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash.

"Oh are you ok? I'm so sorry! I didn't..." The caretaker fluttered her wings and was pleading for Hank's forgiveness, when he shrugged off the immense pain.

"It's fine. Better than ever, had to be done. Thanks." He massaged his now functioning arm, testing it as if he never had one before.

"He's a big guy, I'm sure he's alright, right?" Rainbow added, nudging the giant by his shoulder.

"You'd think, but he still sleeps with that stupid spoon every night, he's so far from 'alright' he's all left." Franked remarked, earning a chuckle from Twilight. He looked over his shoulder and she stopped. He smirked a bit and looked back, just in time to miss her blush.

"Leave Splinter out of this, he saved us more times than you know." Hank passionately defended his pride and joy: his first cooking spoon.

"From what? Starvation? God forbid we nearly died from all the bullets, explosions, the Prince's cooking, but thanks to your servings of pies we survived." sniped Frank, causing the room to erupt a small fit of laughter. Well, Pinkie, Shadowman and Fluttershy remained silent. The cocky brother was chuckling at his own insult, until a book dived into his stomach. It, along with him, dropped to the floor.

"As I was saying, thank you. Could you do the same to Prince Albert over there?"

"Of course." Fluttershy did just that, and also in a similar manner to how her name suggested. Fluttering slowly, she landed and timidly approached the member of royalty. "Your...majesty...cou...y...r..." she began to mumble, until only her lips were moving and no sound was produced. She had never worked on a Prince before, let alone one of these humans.

"No need to fear little one, I mean no harm. Such a beautiful creature should be on a pedestal, not harmed," her cheeks immediately burned with crimson, "If you would prefer, I will look away and allow to work. I'll take the boots of my dear. So unless you wish to converse, know you have my thanks." He turned away and gazed upon Frank and Hank rolling their eyes.

He also spied Shadowman, resting on the chair at the back, just staring at the two jesters. They were still trying to stir emotion in him, as the butter coloured pony applied the ointment.

"Boy' he's good." the assistant admitted, before sighing in defeat. He scratched the scales under his chin, before facing Pinkie. "Well I'm out of ideas, perhaps he can't smile." he shrugged. Pinkie Pie still continued pulling strange faces, flinging her tongue about, more determined than ever.

"That's terrible. We have to find something to make him smile!" She began to accelerate the amount of faces she was pulling; leaving Spike in both fear and awe of the speed she was able to create them.

Had Shadowman been awake since the start, perhaps this crusade for his grin could have been avoided.

He was jerked form his slumber when everyone gasped. A huge white light blinded everyone, besides the man in shades. He was once again the first to witness a new species of pony.

She stood there, grand an elegant. The pearl white coat emphasised the golden lace around her body. A chest plate, studded with a single purple gemstone, four horse shoes and a jagged tiara, resting just behind her horn. The flowing mane, riding an invisible current, consisted of four colours: warm pink, jade green, faded blue, and thin slither deep sea navy. Her wings remained folded, but clearly indicated an impressive wing span. He managed to get a look at her face, whilst the rest were still recovering.

He noted the worried look on her face, similar to a distressed mother, before spying the purple mare heading towards her.

"Twilight! I have received your letter and..."

"Princess Celestia! Thank goodness you here. I... Princess Celestia?" The lavender unicorn gave a concerned look at her mentor's facial expression. It was one crossed between shock and disbelief, and the purple mare noted who she was looking at.

Prince Albert.

He too looked back at the regal equine, both staring at each other. Fluttershy scampered away to the far corner, hoping not to break there line of sight.

"Princess?" Twilight asked in a soft brittle voice.

"Oh...yes Twilight I am sorry I was...distracted." she turned to give her student a sheepish smile. "I think I need to discuss things with my citizens. Twilight, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash, could you please join me in Twilight's bedroom." she asked, ignoring the confused expressions of the humans, for fear of also falling into the depths of madness.

With a flash of light, they were gone. The humans were stunned, Hanks arm just flopped, Frank brought the book to his chest like a pillow, Shadowman sighed and shook his head, and the prince froze.

"Does anyone else wish they just died this morning?" Frank asked.

"Uhuh." Hank's response represented the general consensus, as Shadowman and Albert nodded slowly.

"I think we need to re-evaluate the potential these ponies have." Albert finally added.

"Sir that last one was called Princess Celestia. Princess. I think the little pink pony was right." Hank said morbidly.

"Yes. We are no longer in...ouch." He grimaced and looked at his ankle. The swelling stopped, but the twitching was still causing a pulsating pain. It felt like he had been stabbed three times before the pain stopped. He sighed, releasing a clenched breath, and put his boot back on. He stood up, slowly applying weight to his repaired ankle, and moved over to the table.

He sat on one side, looked at the others with a dark mask, and they soon followed. Opposite him sat Frank, massaging his temples, trying find an explanation of the new pony. To the Prince's right sat Hank, he had stopped massaging his arm, and was leaning back. The phantom chose to sit to his left, not that he had a choice because he waited to see which seat was remaining. He calmly sat down, resting one hand on top of the other on the table, and craned his head to the Prince.

"It is clear we are not in Primane anymore. This land belongs to the Princess, and I do believe Miss Pie when she said there was another. What bothers me is why our lands have never heard of each other." He said calmly, although he stroked his chin at the last sentence.

"I thought we had found all of the land possible." Hank added.

"No, we're close, but there are still areas yet to be explored and charted. Nowhere like this though, surely we would have noticed talking horses by know." Albert replied.

"I think we're looking at this the wrong way. We should stop thinking this is even our world." The group swiftly focused their attention on Frank. He brought the book that hit him onto the table, and placed it in the middle.

Everyone looked at the cover. Hank had to do a double take, Shadowman slid his shades down enough to look over them, whilst the Prince reached for the book.

The cover read 'The Legend of Humans and their mythology.'

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"Now Twilight, I think you should start by explaining why there are fictional characters in your Library." the alicorn stated, despite the motherly tone, it had was laced with a hidden excitement. However, she had to focus and put her fang-mare aside...for the moment. If her instincts were correct this would be one of Twilight's biggest, albeit most commendable, blunder to date.

"Well Pinkie Pie found them, she said they were lost and hurt." Twilight responded, pointing to the smiling mare.

"Yeah, they said they were lost and hurt. They also said they were called humans. Not to be confused with humus, humourus, humid or hunger, they don't like that. They don't believe this is Equestria. Can you imagine! Not living in Equestria, silly fillies." She giggled, sitting on Twilights bed. Meanwhile Rainbow was snooping around, hovering, hunting for this chest Twilight had mentioned.

"Pinkie Pie, It was a kind deed you performed, bringing them here. Might I suggest a hospital nest time however?" chuckled Celestia, then she stopped and blinked. "You do recognise who these humans are don't you?" she asked curiously.

She shook her head, paused, and then nodded.

"I saw the dark one, the one with the coat, he was playing hide and seek in the hay pile. You two remember that cart with the hay right?" She switched from focusing on the Princess to look between Twilight and Rainbow dash.

"Err...I suppose why? Wait you mean to tell me he was hidden in the hay bale?" Twilight responded.

"Yes." she chirped. "He was really good, I had to chase him into the forest, but nopony beats Pinkie Pie at hide and seek. I chased him through the alleyway in my balloon, and over the bridge-where he nearly ran into Fluttershy- and into the forest. He's really fast." She finished off with a nod, agreeing with her own statement.

"That is an interesting tale, Pinkie Pie, but I mean do you recognise him from a TV show?" Celestia asked.

She tapped her chin, pouting her lip as she did so, and said "Nope. Why are they famous? Can I throw an 'I'm sorry I didn't know you were a famous actor, I don't watch TV because I work a lot' party?"

"Sadly no." Celestia felt a bit heartbroken to see Ponyville’s premium party hostess' hair deflate, "Not yet anyway." she chuckled as her hair twitched before once again returning to that signature frizzy style.

"What about dear Fluttershy, do you know of the program they come from?" the Princess asked, already knowing such a kind creature would never watch such a show.

"um....no. You mean they are not real?" The butterscotch mare moved out of the way of the investigating blue pegasus.

"No. They are fictional, what surprises me is how they managed to come to life." she responded, looking back towards the closed door. The worry stricken elder decided to explain the scenario to those who have no idea what the true gravity of the situation is.

"They are characters from a cartoon show. The last episode finished last night, and under depressing circumstance." She braced for the inquisitive stares, and then the inevitable epiphany to follow.

"Princess Celestia? Are you a..."

"Humare?...Prince Albert is best human." She shared a chuckle with the other humares, whilst Pinkie and Fluttershy looked at each confused.

"Wow, I never pegged you as one to watch a cartoon Princess." Rainbow dash added, landing beside the bed.

"Well it was the talk of Canterlot, Although Prince Blue Blood is very anti-brony. He often caused the bronies and humares of the castle to work a little extra. Anyway, I was curious by the second season. I watched the episode where Hank entered the championships and had to pull that train a whole mile. Truly inspirational." She replied.

"Oh that's my favourite episode. Gotta say, I prefer Hank to Albert, he's okay but..." she waved her hoof around, then spied something under the bed.

The Diarch giggled, "What about you Twilight?"

"Oh I love Frank." Celestia raised an eyebrow, as did Rainbow Dash, "I mean I love his character!" she yelled defensively.

"My sister is in favour of Shadowman, apparently he's cute when confused. How she picks that up I don't know, maybe she's looking into it too much."

"I'm sorry but what's a humare or a brony?" Fluttershy asked. She had been in deep thought about those words, ever since she first heard them.

"It's the name of the ponies that enjoy the show. A 'Brony' is a colt or stallion who likes the show; the word bro and pony put together. A 'Humare' is a mare, who likes the show too, but is made up from the words human and mare." chirped Twilight, as Celestia nodded sagely.

"Oh, well that makes...sense. So what's an anti-brony?" she replied.

"They're jerks! They pick on ponies who like the show. They say it's all violence and for the ponies who have lost it. They also say it's like corrupting ponies, making them all aggressive and stuff. That's a load of apples, how many times has a pony been arrested for hurting each other. Non, it’s not like the show can make you the worst pony ever." The sporty mare rambled.

"Like Rarity and Applejack?" Fluttershy pawned a hoof, whilst the other mare mulled over that comment.

"Well, sort of. They don't like the show because it sometimes violent, but until then they were happy with it. Applejack was starting to like Hank... until he beat a guy up...or five. They don't judge ponies for it, but they don't like ponies trying to talk them into it. They don't dislike bronies, but they dislike the show."

"I wish Blue Blood would think that way, I caught him trying to humiliate a guard the other night."

"Ooh, ooh, can I be a humare?" Pinkie Pie asked, waving her hoof around.

"Um...yeah, just watch the show. Channel 55 every Saturday, at 9:30 PM. Well not any more, you might catch a repeat now that the shows over." the cyan wonder, purple student and the party animal, all held a small frown. Pinkie Pie complained about missing out, to which point Rainbow Dash and Twilight face-hooved. Having spent the past five years talking about the show, it was a wonder why Pinkie was believing she never heard of it.

"Perhaps the story may have ended, but it appears the adventure has just begun." Celestia said nodding to the door. Everyone immediately perked up. "However I believe we should not inform them of their origins, such a life changing piece of knowledge may have untold effects on them. Perhaps a disguise may be in working order?" She pondered. To her, a truly wonderful idea entered her mind, one that might lead to a very, very interesting conversation. Given that she could find the required item.

A species altering spell.

"What? How do we stop them finding out about the show? How can you possibly disguise..."

"HUUMMMAAANNSSS!" a feminine scream rang out, from outside the tree-house.

"Oh what now?" Twilight groaned, she looked around and saw everypony's worried look. Especially the rainbow maned pegasus' face, caught trying to pull out a chest from under the bed.

"HEY! Get away from that!"

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"Creatures advanced in technology and intelligence, they were once used as symbols of wisdom, war, peace and nobility. The origins of these creatures stems from dreams many tribal ponies had, eons before the rule of Princess Celestia. Unlike the rest of the Equestrian mythology, there have been no sightings of any human recorded in history. All over the planet, in other kingdoms, they were/are still either feared, revered, forgotten, worshipped or loved, but have never been seen."

The squad looked back at each other. After what their leader had just read, they remained silent. Frank registered that he was on a different planet, attempting to comprehend how he wound up here almost sent him catatonic.

Hank thought he had the situation sussed out. If he was in a tribal ponies dream, pinching himself would wake him up? He tried 15 times before he realised the pony in question had to pinch themselves.

Shadowman massaged his forehead for the umpteenth time. It seemed the world was content with making him question his existence, and also threw in a migraine to boot.

Prince Albert was contemplating what he was going to do without any authority, any loyal citizens, whom he cared for greatly, and his kingdom. Gone, all of it gone.

"My reptilian friend, Is it true? Are there no other of our kind on this world." the Prince asked softly, not even removing his eyes away from the closed book.

"Err... I guess. You guys are the first I've seen." He rubbed the back of his head, realising how alone these men were. He didn't really know how to handle this delicately. "My name's Spike by the way. I'm a dragon."

As much a Frank wanted to comment on how he looked nothing like a dragon, whether it was a snide remark about height, the lack of wings, or how he was too weak to bear the title, he was simply lost in his mind.

"Where did Miss Twilight acquire this book? It is said to belong to a Miss Lyra Hearstrings." He lifted the cover and showed the purple dragon the name, the others leant closer attempting to follow his trail of thought.

"Lyra? She lives on Bridge Lane. It's the house with the Lyre door knocker but why do you want to see her?" He opened his arms out as if to say 'there's nothing here' or in this case 'there'.

"She has taken the liberty of writing she is 'Equestria's first, and so far only, anthropologist.' If this is the case, she would have more information and perhaps a way home. Could you please show where she lives?" Albert asked desperately.

"I don't know... I mean shouldn't you wait to see the Princess?" his suggestion fell on deaf ears, as Shadowman tapped the desk. He tapped his head, and made walking motions with his hand.

"You know where the house is? Pray show, how?" Frank asked curiously.

Shadowman again tapped his head, then his shades, then knocked on the air, before strumming it. The group understood that he recalls seeing a knocker shaped like a lyre and Albert smiled.

"I really really think you guys should stay here." Once again he was ignored, as the group silently headed towards the door.

The group were now being led by the phantom, followed closely by Albert, Frank and then Hank. Shadowman twisted the door knob silently and the group exited the building.

The sight they saw was one to flood back many nostalgic memories. Similar thatched homes, the ghostly lemon walls, the thick timber panels, gave them a sense determination; seeing a world so parallel yet so different was more than enough to give them hope of returning home. The cobbled stone roads, eroded by the many years of use, divided both sides of a busy street. The warm air and the burning sun, brought them out of their stupor when Hank poetically described the scene before him.

"Fuckin' Hell it's hot. I'm surprised all these ponies aren't ripe with sweat."

"Perhaps the light shades reflect the light all lot more, reducing heat intake. Could be a natural advantage in this warmer climate." Frank had only pondered why the ponies came in such a wide variety of colour for about five minutes. Too many pressing matters came before wondering why the indigenous population was an eyesore.

"Regardless, we must press on. On your lead Shadow." Albert tapped his new guide on the shoulder and he looked back. His short black haired still stood like stalagmites, despite the signs of perspiration on his forehead. He nodded, acknowledging command, and why it was a terrible idea to choose a thick, black, trench coat for his attire.

They managed to get a few paces down the road when they were spotted.

"HHUUMMAAANSSS!" an orange colt screamed, at an unusually high pitch. His bakers cap hit the ground as he ran away. The group were still stunned when he returned to pick it up, before repeating the action.

"Yet again, your voice does aid in our travels." Frank remarked, watching chaos ensue. Ponies running back and forth, some even walking up to them before crackling madly collapsing. Run away carts were seen either chasing, or being chased by, some pony. Doors were slammed, windows shut, many disappeared through the few alleyways. In the space of a minute the screaming had stopped, some of the psychotic chuckles were still heard, but the entire street was empty.

"That reminded me of when Hank was asking for a prom date in high school." Frank remarked. He soon found himself on the floor, eating cobble stone.

"Let's move. We should...encounter...less...now?" Prince Albert had finished glancing around when he spied a large group of ponies down the street to his left.

The mob of multi-coloured mares and a small cluster of colts appeared to be wearing strange outfits. A few had what appeared to be oversized coats. Black and draping over. The more stallion like stood in their hind legs at the back, wearing a black vest top. A few mares had swollen horns. A few turned to the side, revealing the horn to be...giant fingers. They were actually hats, or so he hoped.

What disturbed him the most were the amount of colts who had a similar blond hairstyle, especially when their tails were a different colour.

"Hello? We mean you know harm." Albert decided to speak up, perhaps conversing with this strange crowd will ease tension?

There was a sudden gasp, followed by another scream.

"ITS THEM! ITS REALLY THEM!" a rose maned mare yelled, wiggling that horn-finger-thing. Suddenly they charged, the thunderous noise of over twenty ponies galloping on stone filled the air.

"RUN! Run, my friends." Instantly the group sped off, sprinting down the street away from the pursuers. Flashbacks to that pink menace flooded Shadowman's mind, but he still ran. Frank was trying to push himself far enough to catch up his Prince.

"You...should...really...put a zipper...on that thing." he added, panting between each set of words. He soon returned to his original position in the running line. He thought Hank was behind him, until he couldn't hear his breathing.

"Hank?" The group momentarily stopped to see where the brute was. he was standing, waiting to embrace the stampede.

"Go, they're too fast. I knew we shouldn't have trusted them. Go! I can only hold them back for so long." He waved his arm, as if attempting to bat them away to safety.

"Hank..." Frank was slowly walking forward, trying to reach his elder.

"Go little brother." the elder replied softly. Hank looked him in the eyes, and understood what he meant. He wished he hadn't.

"Don't be stupid."

"GO SAVE THE PRINCE!" he roared in response. The crowd of pony were only seconds away now.

"Yes brother." he responded morbidly, before turning back and grabbing the Prince. The rest of the group soon departed, whilst hank turned back to face the hoard.

"WWAAARRRRGGGGHHH!" His booming voice was met by another.

"GGGLLOOOOOMMMMPPP!"

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"Hank..." Frank mourned to himself, grieving at his brother's textbook execution of self-sacrifice.

"We shall reclaim him, but for now we must hide. Mark my words, the human hunters will learn to fear us." Prince Albert reassured, earning scowling nod from the Frank. The thought of revenge gave a warm feeling in his heart.

The group were still running, even amongst other ponies scrambling to get out of the way. More panic induce riots were produced, albeit more calm in the sense nothing was trashed, and more 'human hunters' as they were dubbed arrived on scene. Some were wearing similar attire to those before, as well as the same dress sense as the humans too. Where as a new type arrived; they seemed to be more of a true mob, with pitchforks and torches, following the trio of men.

Shadowman realised running was no longer an option, and suggested hiding. Separately to be exact. After much debate, whilst still running for their lives, they soon parted.

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"Ggllooommmpp!" Another disturbing war cry, heard from outside the Library. There stood Princess Celestia, massaging her temples; Twilight Sparkle, glaring at Rainbow Dash; she was trying to give her an apologetic look. Pinkie Pie had mysteriously vanished, leaving Fluttershy standing with a bewildered look on her face.

The sight of in the distance was probably the strangest sight she, and the others, had ever seen.

"Why are ponies so fanatical about this show? I can see why many partitioned for it to be cancelled." Celestia sighed and began making her way to the swarming crowd, orbiting the giant.

"I know. I mean the Wonder bolts are way better than this show. You don't see me tackling them to the ground." Rainbow replied. Twilight and Fluttershy shared a look, but chose not to recall the time the speedster nearly destroyed the Grand Galloping, to get the attention of Soarin.

The group soon arrived, still dumbfounded by the spectacle.

"STOP HUGGING ME!" The titan was struggling to keep the ponies away. They seemed to just cling to anyway, and where one was peeled off two others took their place.

"Brofist!" Another annoying little remark, signalling a bombardment of endless jabs.

"They’re so tense, I wish my stallion was like this." Normally he'd bask in a woman commenting his muscles, but given the context he wasn't exactly in the mood.

"GET OFF ME!" Hank cried, slowly being brought to his knees.

"I FOUND SPLINTER!"

"Enough!" Celestia yelled. The crowd stopped, appearing like a picture. Many mares clung silently to arms and thighs, colts caught in the middle of punching the man, and a tower of stallions fighting over a spoon. All frozen in their action poses, looking back at her.

"Release him and return what is rightfully his." She brought her hoof down and her subjects immediately scattered, dropping the spoon. The last to fall was Pinkie Pie from the piggy back he didn't want to give.

"Pinkie Pie? How and why were you glomping him?" the azure pegasus asked curiously.

"Glomping? That sounds painful. I was helping give him a group hug."She beamed that signature smile, revealing an impossible amount of teeth.

"That is Glomping. Pinkie Pie, you are so random." Dash responded.

Hank slowly rose up, scouted around, and found his second brother.

"Splinter! Thank goodness you’re ok." he cradled the wooden utensil like a baby, placing it in a specially designed belt pocket. All but Celestia giggled at the affectionate sight. He turned to face them, flustered with rage, this was when Celestia stepped in.

"Hank, I understand you may be angry right now, and I am truly sorry." she spoke motherly, the giant still remaining silent.

He frowned, torn between his mistrust of ponies and how she had just 'saved' him. once again it wasn't clear cut if they were friendly or not. However he had a new mission to complete.

"Okay. We need to find the Prince, then you can send us home." he finally replied, before turning away. Celestia bit her lip, the mere thought of telling him she had no idea how to send him home filled her with dread.

"If they lost the crowd of...touchy...ponies then they will be hiding out, waiting for a time to move again." he informed the group, marching down the street. He scanned many of the many houses, no doubt locked up and sheltering many cowering families, before moving on.

"Where would they hide? Where could they possible go afterwards?" Twilight asked, trotting alongside him. The group caught up to him in no time.

"If I knew that, I'd be able to find Shadowman's cider stash." He looked at her with a cocked eyebrow, she scowled back. "But I know where they would be going afterwards." The group listened intently.

"Bridge street; we were planning on finding a pony named Lyra Heartstrings." They had reached a cross roads, many knocked over carts, and littered fruit lay scattered along the roads.

"Why would you seek out Miss Lyra?" Celestia asked curiously.

"There was a book, the one I threw at Frank, it said humans were myths," the group stopped and stared at him as he continued walking, "It also said it belonged to her, well I assume it’s a girl, something about anthrolpity."

"Anthology." Twilight corrected, much to his annoyance.

"Either way, we planned on visiting her. If she was an expert on humans, then she would know the way home." He turned to face them, he had one question of his own.

"You mean Lyra actually studies humans? I mean she is a huge fan of the show, but don't worry. She researched it as a hobby way before the show started." Twilight quickly brought her hoof to her lips, the others quickly swapped glances between her and him, awaiting for the reaction.

"That's another thing. When I was being smothered, I heard a lot of things that shouldn't have been said," he stepped forward, a few feet away from the group, "Why did the know my name, about Splinter, and what was this show they were talking about?"

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After the divide, the trio of friends bid each other goodbye and parted to find a decent hiding place. Under the cover of night, they planned to reunite where they had separated.

So Prince Albert was creeping along the edges of town, constantly on the lookout for either the copycat human hunters or the mob who could do real damage.

Slowly he crept along the flora, the amount of trees was close to bare but the shrubbery made up for it, and soon reached a small empty looking house. Breaking and entering was not normally his thing, but neither was being hounded by ponies. The lilac shaded building resembled a carousel, rounded, pointed roof, and wooden horses dotted around. The sign, hanging above the doorway, read 'Carousel Boutique.'

Prince Albert took a deep breathe, hoping that the Frank's remarks about the effects his voice had on ponies were false.

As he reached the handle, he noticed a hanging door sign reading 'open' and stepped inside. Upon entering the doorbell rang out, startling Albert. Recovering, he took the time to register the vast quantities of clothes on offer; spotting the elegant gowns, jackets studded with gemstones, and a half-finished piece on a podium. The room was shaded similarly to the outside: lilac. Everywhere a different tone of lilac.

"One moment dear, I will be with you shortly." he heard a voice cry out. It sounded poised, clear and pristine, much like the glass in the windows. He stepped further in, taking a second the fix his hair in the mirror, before taking a seat.

"My lady I require your aid, but I can wait until you are finished." If he was going to meet a woman, or mare, the least he could do was make a good impression.

"Thank you, but if I continue my work, you'll be there all week." She giggled, hidden behind a closed door.

"I'm sure your presence is worth the wait, these clothes are simply beautiful. I withdraw that, they go beyond mere words." He pulled a smirk, twiddling his finger on a piece of stray yarn.

"Oh...why thank you." There was a sudden trotting, before it slowed to a calm walking pace. The door opened and out stepped another snow white pony. Long eye lashes, curling, but not as much as the deep purple mane. She kept her eyes closed and walked out with a merry smile plastered to that face. Her horn glowed, resulting in causding the door to shut.

"Well, it is clear you've managed to put your heavenly looks into your work." He cocked and eyebrow and a mirthful smile formed. He was anticipating her response.

"Thank you, it's so nice to meet a lovely gentlecolt..." Her face froze the moment she laid eyes upon him.

"I believe the word you’re looking for is Gentleman, and yes I am human." He was starting to think it was his appearance, not his voice, which was breaking the ponies. Then again, that should have been obvious.

"Your...Your..." she stuttered, still staring at him.

"Real yes, Miss Sparkle had a similar response," he rolled his eyes at the mention of her name.

Mentioning Twilight brought Rarity back from her stupor.

Of course she had something to do with a human being here. He must of got lost, well at least he's still polite... and has a good eye. I suppose I should return him, before he starts getting violent.

"I'm sorry, you’re the first human I gave ever met. Thank you for being such a gentlecolt." She gave a short bow and he rose out of the chair, stepping closer to her.

"Prince Albert, ruler of Primane." He got down on one knee, gently lifted her hoof, and kissed it. She blushed at the 'Royal Introduction.' "A pleasure to meet you my lady."

"Oh my, thank you. I am Rarity, fashionista of this little town." She smiled happily, which he returned. "So what can I do for a Prince? Do you wish to return to Twilight, I can help you find her if you want." she replied, sympathy laced with every word in the last sentence.

"Actually I was hoping you could help me hide here till night fall. Me and my friends seem to have attracted a lot of attention." He grimaced at the thought of his lost comrade.

"Certainly, wait did you say there were more of you?"

"Yes. The human hunters and the ponies with torches and pitchforks pursued the others. They bought me time to escape. May I ask why they appeared so similar to our appearance?" he asked curiously, returning to his seat.

Rarity blinked, looked out the window and bit her lip. She realised he didn't know he was a fictional cartoon character. She had to convince him otherwise.

"It’s an old fashion trend, but ponies still enjoy it. I for one find the black jackets are rather dapper, but fashion will not stop, lest it becomes stale." she replied.

"Ah, I see. Mere coincidence then?" She nodded slowly, grinning painfully.

"Well, thank you for allowing me to stay to nightfall." He picked up the ball of yarn from before and passed it between his hands.

"No need," she beamed happily before letting her curiosity get the better of her, "Your highness, could you tell me how you came to Ponyville?"

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Elsewhere, the remaining duo parted; Shadowman still being chased by the human hunters and Frank hiding in an alleyway. He was breathing heavily, bracing against the wall, when he heard a voice to his side.

"Oh sweet Celestia. You're Frank!" He swiftly turned his head, slapping his ponytail against the wall, and shushed the mare. He registered that she was white unicorn, had navy blue hair with a cyan stripe, and large party glasses, obscuring her eye colour. She had a large grin on her face, one that worried him.

"Need a HAND?" She emphasised. He looked to see where she came from. It was a standard alley way; one way in, one way out, but it seemed to lead to a market place.

"That depends. Your not one of those human hunters are you?" He asked, tempted to run back out into the open.

"What oh no. It's ok dude, I'm not crazy. Most of us are cool, but some are..." she rolled her hoof around, and gave a sheepish smile.

"That grin on your face says otherwise."

"Wow. You are always moody." She responded, jabbing him in the stomach. She giggled as he flinched.

"Oof. Not exactly helping your case here."

"Look, do you need a place to hide?" She stated, tapping her hoof on a piece of newspaper.

He paused, noticed the shopping bags, the frown forming on her brow and pondered his options for a couple of seconds.

"Do you have cookies?"

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Meanwhile, Shadowman was still running. He was starting to wonder if he could actually escape what seemed to be the whole town. Regardless, he had a mission and that was all that was needed. That and an escape route would be nice. Despite countless climbs, leaps, and attempts to hide, he was always discovered by a pony.

He was running along the roof tops, quickly losing the unicorns and earth ponies below, when the pegasi would bother him. One tackled him onto the straw. He fell through the house, and tried to get to his feet. As tempted as it was to clip their wings, he kept the blades hidden. Even when they shouted for him to show them off. He ran down the stairs, and tried to navigate the ground floor. In his attempt to leave he managed to destroy a large cello and knock over three speakers, due to the pegasi chasing him around the house.

He leapt through a window, glanced around and had two options. A: Run into the large amount of torch wielding ponies or B: back up into the passage beside the house.

He ran into the alleyway, the town seemed full of them, but thankfully this one was a maze to navigate. Not that he had any idea where he was going.

Still, he brought a joyful smile to his face when he heard the crowd's yell slowly disappear. He didn't know if he had lost them, but he definitely was not going to wait about to find out. He came to an exit, he gave the surroundings a quick once over, and only spied an orange pony with her back to him.

She was standing by the stall, resting on her 'elbow'. She straightened her Stetson hat and returned to her moment of boredom. He spied an cart, on the edge of the alleyway, filled with barrels. He couldn't fit in one, nor could he hide amongst them. If he could get underneath it, however, he might have a safe ride out of the town.

"Now where in tarnation is everypony?"

Author's Notes:

Ah so the humans have dispersed and have met resistance. How will shadow man fare against this mare? More importantly what is Frank's taste in music like?

Tune in next week.

Chapter 4: Coming (three quarters of a) full circle.

"Hank!" The pick and mix of ponies followed the brooding giant. He marched down the cobbled stone roads, restraining the urge flatten each of them. Other than his moral standards, the only things stopping him from making pony pancakes was the following:

The yellow one was too adorable to even think of a violent act towards. He believed even playing rock, paper, scissors would be threatening to the little butter blob.

The cyan speedster seemed to understand him. The slight movements, he subconsciously made to warn the others, she would pick up. That as well as the fact she put Frank on the floor.

That quiet purple one worried him. Ever since she announced and described his life as a television show she had been hidden behind her mother, or so he assumed she was. Much to his disappointment, she knew way too much about him, as did the blue pegasus, but she was trying to convince him he shouldn't exist. He eloquently labelled her as the 'Crazy bitch.'

Then there's the huge white one, that's not counting her flank. Then again he didn't know if her backside was unfit, or could even fit in a chair. Regardless he witnessed her authority, knew she was royalty, and that was enough to make him edge away. That and the emotional bond she clearly had to the lavender unicorn, although he couldn't see a family resemblance. Perhaps the wings developed after a certain age, he pondered over this bearing a burrowing frown.

Now the pink one. The sole reason he didn't tie her to a boulder and cast her out was because she was untouchable. The living battery pack made it clear that she will do what ever she wants to do, whenever she feels like doing it. Such as disappear again.

"Hank! Look we know this us a little confusing, but trust us. You are a fictional character." The purple unicorn was keeping up with his brisk pace, occasionally avoiding toppled barrels. He refused to answer and concentrated on following the trail of destruction.

"Hank it’s true. We can..." The Diarch was cut off by his sudden change in direction. A swift 180 degree turn landed the pair face to face.

"Stop talking about that shit." he growled, gritting his teeth and clenching a fist. He had more pressing matters to attend to, such as find his Prince, his idiot of brother, and then hunt the silent one. All came before contemplating his existence. "We need to find my lord and the rest of my squad." he finalised spinning back around.

Moments before the pissed off mare snorted steam.

"As I was saying," she continued grinding her pearly whites, "We should find Prince Albert, Shadowman, and Frank." A vein in his forehead almost burst at the way she recalled their names, without actually being introduced. He dismissed it as some magic these horned things each had.

Telepathy. It’s gotta be. I am not some written character in a bad story.

"Well I'm glad you finally understand that part, I was afraid I'd have to explain myself over and over again." he remarked, booting a cart of flowers out of the way.

"Look we already knew that, why do you think we're following you." Rainbow responded, floating in front of him. "I don't care who you are! Or why you're so mad!" she lied, in fact she was constantly restraining her fan-mare from stealing Splinter and hiding in her cloud house, "You don't talk like that to the Princess!" She screamed, jabbing his pecks. That statement did hold true; her Princess did come before any show. Hence the reason the mare was the Element of Loyalty.

Both of their eyes narrowed, neither flinched. The showdown lasted until she saw the smallest of smirks pull on his right cheek.

He cocked his head to the side, leaving enough space to show his eyes to the Princess.

"Sorry. Thanks for the help." he stated calmly. He turned back to face the cyan pegasus, looked her over, and grin. "You got a lot of guts kid." Before he could finish, she took off to the lavender librarian, beaming smile possessing to her maw. Returning to the mission, he marched on still determined. However this confrontation left him less aggravated, having found someone brave enough to face him.

Unbeknownst to the titan, as he finished his sentence to himself, the fan mare let out a giddy squeak.

"You got a lot of guts kid, but if you piss me off, I'll make 'em see the light of day."

He turned back to see a smiling Princess, as disgruntled unicorn, a cowering pegasus, and a rainbow blur doing a somersault.

Still no sign of the little cotton candy rocket.

"Hey I know, why don't we start a search party! My eleventh favourite kind of party, after birthday, because it's like a giant-humongous game of hide and seek, my third favourite game." Looking up, Hank noticed his hair had become a vibrant shade of pink, was curly, and smelt like the sweet shop near where he lived.

"Pinkie Pie...how did you get on top of his head? For that matter why are you up there?" He spun around and found a purple, gawking at his scalp. Reaching up he plucked a almost weightless Pinkie hat off his head, and found a grinning pony before him.

"His head is really flat, I mean it like sitting on the floor, but more tickly because his hair rubs against my hooves." she replied, spinning her neck around. Hank quickly dropped her to the floor, regretting that was possibly the only time he would ever catch the crazy mare, and looked at her with slight annoyance.

"Do you know anybody who would help, not be distracted by the fact I'm human, not to try to turn me into a piñata, or grope my muscles," he winced after recalling one specific mare, who he hoped, made a brief mistake of using his groan to pull herself closer to his arms, " and will help me find my friends?" he finished, still maintaining a frown.

"Hmmmm." the party pink pony replied, further agitating the man, and squinted at the floor before her . Finally finding the answer, after looking at his boots, she once again turned to face the group of mares behind her.

"Applejack and Rarity can help us! Oh but AJ's busy, we should go visit Rarity. Wait no, now that I think about it, she'll be making dresses. We could look for them ourselves, then ask for some more help when their finished."

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"Hey Applejack!" Shadowman scuttled as fast as he could under the cart, resting his legs and shoulders over the wheel axles.

"Howdy BonBon! How are you this mornin'?" He heard the cowpony reply. The soft clops of the pony's hooves can to a halt by the stand.

The visitor sighed, paused and said "Tired. A few of the ponies here have gone nuts, stir crazy, because apparently there are humans here." What followed was an awkward silence.

"You mean ta tell me that Ah'm sitting here, as bored as Ah would be watching Granny Smith take a nap, and the town is chasing cartoon characters?" the apricot mare asked, slamming her forehoof on the floor.

"Applejack. You okay?" the concern in her tone, mixed with the soft steps backwards, made the shadow wonder if he picked the right cart.

"No Ah ain't! Ah'm tryin' to sell mah apples and the whole town gallivanting off after old filly stories!" A long groan was heard, followed by another silence. "Sorry BonBon. Ah was just ventin' is all. Yesterday Ah had a lot of people asking me about that show last night."

Shadow man took a peek from under the cart. After partially blushing due to popping out right between her hind legs, he quickly repositioned himself. He spotted the blonde maned pony massaging her temples. The golden glory of her hair and the sun captured the moment for him.

She would not take too kindly to a human under her cart.

Retreating back to his lurking, he continued to listen in on both parties.

"I know. Lyra won't stop bugging me to watch the show. I'm glad it's over, but-" she was cut off as another voice bounded out of the alleyway.

"Hey BonBon, oh hey Applejack. Have you seen Shadowman running around here?" Looking to face his hunter he could only notice the carrot coat of her hooves, from the knees down.

"No Carrot top, we haven't. We ain't gonna go looking for him either." chided the one named BonBon.

"Oh filly!" he heard the new comer curse, slapping the stone floor with hoof. "I was sure he came this way. Why do all the good ones run away?" the orange pony moaned, returning to the dark passage.

"That mare's crazy. I mean I like the strong silent type too, a lot, but come on. It's a cartoon." BonBon giggled, until she abruptly stopped.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Is that why you're always staring at mah brother?"

"Wha-no-Wh-Stop looki-err." she spluttered, defensively. Even this was obvious for Shadowman, but he took a moment to rub his ego over about how 'Dark and mysterious' he was to the females. It wasn't until he remembered he was being chased by ponies, not women, did the moment of pride dissipate.

Had it been women chasing him, the situation would be entirely different.

"Hehe, Ah won't tell. He normally finishes his chores around sunset on Fridays, and heads to the tavern for a quick drink. Maybe you should bump into him there, rather than sit opposite mah stall every week?"

"Err...I...thank you." The other replied in a soft tone.

"No problem. Now. What can Ah get cha?" The business mare assumed her role as merchant.

"Just a bushel of...let’s see...Red delicious." she replied merrily.

The cart groaned and squeaked, and much to Shadowman's silent dismay a screw came lose. He hoped it was the one piece that could afford to be lost, not one to result in the whole thing collapsing. He watched the wooden panel before him with scrutinizing eyes.

"Here yer are. That's four bits." Immediately this was followed by a small clatter of coins, as well as a farewell.

"Well at least I managed to sell some apples today. Darn humans, I don't know what they see in that show. Nothing but violence and stupidity anyway," she scolded. If nopony was going to arrive because they were hunting him, they wouldn't arrive now because of her mood.

"Applejack! Hey Applejack!" a young voice cried out. Swivelling his head around, he finally spied a whole pony from his hidden position. Small, bouncy little thing. She had a faded daffodil coat, contrasting the weak red mane and tail. The pink bow was roughly the same sizes as her huge amber eyes. Both poised at the more mature mare.

"Apple Bloom! What in tarnation are you doing out of school young lady?" He watched as the filly skidded to a halt, her smile quickly transforming into a worried look.

"Miss Cheerilee is sick. We had a substitute today, he kind of...blew up." Shadowman imagined even the orange pony did double take as well.

"Excuse me?"

"Well not really. We were doing chemistry and well, me, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle wanted to see if we could get our cutie marks in mixin' stuff. We were puttin' all of the stuff together when it started glowing. Then it started fizzing. Then it started shaking. Then the teacher ran up to the flask, grabbed it and ran out the classroom. We heard a hug explosion, and he came back in the room. He looked like he put his head in a twister and then in a saddle bag of coal. He said school was over, then fell asleep at his desk."

"Sugar cube, you gotta calm down about this crusading stuff. Ah keep tellin' you it will come eventually. Yer just gotta wait."

"But I want it now!" moaned the child, before lowering her head to pout. She looked at her surroundings, noticing the rocks, the crack in the pavement, the screw that fell from the cart, the pony hiding under the cart, a spare apple that toppled out of a barrel.

Wait? What?

"Applejack..." she trailed off, inching closer to the shadow.

"Now don't think you're getting off so easily." He heard the elder reply, still focusing on the filly closing in.

"I think you parked on top of a pony."

"What!"

After a lot of confusing commotion, that sounded like a stall being bucked over and a cart yanked backwards, Shadowman found himself flat on his back, staring up to two ponies. One confused by his physic and style of clothing, the other was also bewildered too, until her face contorted into a furious mask.

He moved his hand around, patting around the ground before the filly, searching for something. As a peace offering, hoping to convince the angered mare he meant no harm, he held up the missing screw.

"Applebloom."

"Yeah sis?"

"Get my rope."

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"Yo Tavi! I'm back, and I have friend I want you to meet." Frank ducked his head as he entered the back of a small cottage. Although, from his perspective, he should start calling this a normal cottage given that he's the giant here. Still he had been following the strange unicorn, noticing the way she wore her shades in a similar fashion to Shadowman. However she was chattier than his team mate.

As he discovered the hard way for the past fifteen minute walk.

"Oh dear. Sorry Vinyl, but I'm going to have to ask your friend to leave." a poetic voice called out. Frank was satisfied with holding the shopping, whilst munching on a chocolate chip cookie, but now he began to worry about finding a place to stay till night fall. The pony with the music note butt tattoo spoke up as he entered the kitchen.

"Oh come on Tavi. He really needs a place to stay till tonight, what's the problem?" He watched the one named Vinyl, originally called a ludicrous 'DJ PON-3', trot into the next room. He was putting the bag of baguettes, celery, milk, and other delectable items on the marble side, when he ear splitting scream.

Instinctively he barged through the door and scanned the room for threats.

He spied a toppled sofa, inches away from a large television. In the center of the room, not only was the couch flipped, but a wooden coffee table was crushed. The top halves of the walls were painted a coffee cream, whilst the bottom was a milk chocolate. By the staircase, in front of the door, lay the remains of a large Cello. Frank mourned the loss of his third favourite instrument, recalling many symphonies that have played close to his heart.

Beneath a large square window lay three broken speakers. Monumental compared to the others by the DJ deck, sitting in the corner to his left. He also spied Vinyl moaning and weeping over them.

"WUBSY!" she sobbed, clutching a broken speaker piece. The man rolled his eyes.

Of course there's no danger here. I think the most dangerous thing in this world is catching something in those massive eyes of theirs. As if evolution had any need for puppy dog eyes. I don't know why the blasted pony is crying over...a speaker? I better fix that thing in ten minutes, before she asks for a minute silence from the entire town. Now that would be funny; a DJ asking for a minute silence.

"WWWHHYYYYAHAHhYYY" Vinyl continued sobbing, much to his amusement. He planned to let the sorrow build up, step in, be the hero, secure a place for until night, and finish of the cookies.

And not the bloody raisin ones either! Pretending to be chocolate chips, deceitful bastards.

The sound of the still grieving mare brought him from his musings. He was about to intervene when a new set of hooves announced themselves by galloping down the staircase.

"Oh Vinyl, I understand your sentimental attachment to those speakers, but must you cause such a racket?" A dull platinum pony gently made her way to her roommate. Moving along with poise and concern, she rested her hoof upon the musician's shoulder.

"I lost my cello too, but these-" she took a glance at the functioning speakers and arched an eyebrow, "instruments can be replaced. There is no need for this silly outburst. You have more than enough to buy..." she slowly trailed as her eyes widened at her first sighting of the man.

He was leaning against the doorway, arms folded, and using a hand to support his flat chin. His small smirk and judgemental stare froze her to the spot.

"Oh don't mind me. I'm your conscious, who will be teaching you how to properly treat a grieving pony."

Her maw dropped as the sniffling unicorn removed her glasses to wipe her eyes. Before the steel pony could reply he pressed on.

"Don't believe me? Well... I am a human. Mythological being and symbolic representation of nobility, wisdom, war, and peace? Oh and perhaps the sexiest thing to walk on two legs, by product of your imagination." He switched to a more ponderous look, facing the upper corner of the room, and then nodded slowly. "Yes, definitely."

"Vinyl, I don't mean to interrupt your sombre moment but I think I require your confirmation on something." Returning from her stupor, she faced slowly recovering DJ. "Have I lost my sanity or is that the fictional animation character titled 'Frank'?

"Yeah...he needs-" she blew her nose on a hovering handkerchief, "a place to stay till tonight." She threw the snot rag out of the window whilst pulling the massive speaker closer to her chest. After a quick scuttle of hooves, there was loud thud and choking noise being produce. She looked up to see an alarming sight.

Octavia strangling the stranger.

"YOU BRUTISH THUG! HOW DARE YOU OBLITERATE MY CELLO, THEN HAVE THE GALL TO DESTROY VINYL'S SPEAKERS!" Octavia yelled, grasping his throat and slamming his head against the floor. He was more surprised how she managed to replicate fingers around his oesophagus with her hooves than how she tackled him to the ground. Once he managed to loosen her grip, again to his amazement, he finally spoke.

"So I could return defenceless, lost, and in need of your help. Oh and you had cookies, and a mighty fine flank I wanted to get another glance at." Her reaction to this was to slap him, and appear to be on the brink of exploding. Had it not been for the bleached pony's intervention, Frank probably would have died again.

"TAVI! He didn't break your cello or my little Wubsy. He was helping me carry the shopping for Celestia's sake. He couldn't have busted my baby!" She gave a mournful look to black disk.

"Then how do you explain the foot prints at the bottom of the stair case." Still on top of the man, she pointed to the bottom of the first step. Only the unicorn could actually see the boot size. She wondered over to the dirtied wooden step, and asked Frank to join her.

Pushing the mare to the side, more gently than he would've wished to, he arrived at the staircase under the scrutinising supervision of the classical musician. He knelt down, level with the Vinyl, and was trying to analyse whose boot print was before him.

Hmmm. Thin speckles of dust and stone indicate recent running, as well as the partially dried mud. Most of the runner's pressure is applied to fore foot, specifically the metatarsal, indicating knowledge and training in agility and speed. Given we are supposedly the only four humans on the planet, Hank and the Prince were not present, then there is only one logical answer.

Shadowman. Perhaps he was attempting to form a band, but forgot the part where he'd need to sing.

"Well?" the impatient iron pony asked, still maintaining an elegant tone of voice.

"Given the position of the moon, the sun, and the total cookies left in the building, multiplied by the amount of unnecessary tears lost about a stupid speaker, then divided by the amount of cares I actually give about said instruments, squared by the horrible decor...It was a friend of mine." Frank replied nonchalantly, more than Octavia liked in fact.

"So you did break in through the roof, destroy my beautiful cello- which was a gift from Royal Institute of Elite Musicians," she glared at him, losing the warm pink tinge in her pupils to a more sinister fierce pink in her eye, "and you ruined our living arrangements and decimated Vinyl's speakers."

"No." he spoke, dragging the word out and turning to face the mare. "I said my friend did. Friend, as in another person. You do understand what a friend is right?" he remarked patronisingly. Before she could interject, he continued. "It was likely that my friend was being chased by a mob, and found his way onto the roof. I suspect he was being chased; he's not a messy sod so I doubt he wrecked, let alone touched, anything in this building on the way out. I can't imagine why he wound up ruining the living room, but I'm sure it's because the human hunters were chasing him." he replied, calmly and steadily as he attempted to avoid suffocation.

"A human hunter? What in Equestria are you talking about?" The cellist replied, confusion devouring her intense anger towards the biped. He stood up and made his way over to the speaker corpses.

"It's what he keeps calling the mobs who were chasing him, and his friend..." Scratch leant in closer and brought a hoof close to her mouth, "Shadowman." She backed off and Octavia gave another bewildered look to the unicorn. "Yeah so this guy had the town’s people who wanted to hurt him chasing him, and also the bronies and humares wanting to...do whatever they wanted to do to him." Finally Octavia understood the situation and began to ponder, as did Vinyl, over what the bronies could possibly do.

"You do realise this ain't as bad as it looks right? Wait, of course you don't know. Why would you? You have horse drawn carriages being driven by other horses. Can’t you see the humourus side of that?" he turned back to see the two give him a cocked head, "Right... I guess you wouldn't." He returned to analysing the scrap before him under the window.

"You mean you can fix Wubsy?" He instantly regretted turning around; the alabaster pony had dropped her glasses, widened her ruby eyes, and gave a large hopeful smile.

"Oh god! I can feel the testosterone fleeing my body!" The short man winced, blocking his view. "If I say yes can you put the shades back on? I see why you want to wear those things."

"Oh sweet! Thanks bro! Hey Tavi, just my look to be stuck with the cool one and your favourite." He was already ignoring her, getting to work sorting out the piles of debris, when she gave her roommate a wicked grin.

"Oh yes Vinyl. I am eternally grateful for you bringing this fine, handsome, gentlecolt to our home." she replied, sarcasm spewing out by the bucket load.

"Now I don't want you getting any ideas, Miss. As attractive as I am, and as much as you love wrapping your hooves around me, I must ask you to vacate the premises if you cannot restrain your urges." He committed, facing her with a fiendish smirk before winking.

"You are perhaps the most vulgar human I have ever had the displeasure to meet!"

"Well it wasn't difficult, being your first homosapien you have ever laid eyes upon. You are such a prim and proper bore, no wonder people think the rest of us who favour a classic symphony are mundane."

"I'll make sure you're Equestria's last too...wait, what do you mean 'favour a classic symphony?'"

"I do hope you played the cello amongst an orchestra, not as some form of band passing noise as music."

"Obviously, despite many of Vinyl's attempts to sway me in aiding in this 'Dubstep' plague, I have constantly resigned myself to only performing the finest of songs my instrument can produce. I have performed at many high society events, including the Grand Galloping Gala. The apex of every instrumentalist hopes to be performing, let alone be seen at" She responded, holding her head up high. To most, this could have been seen as an attempt to look down upon the individual being spoken to.

However, Frank did detect a hint of pride and judgement, but he understood that her intentions were to show they had a common link. He also believed that she would have a right to tub her ego if such a statement rung true.

"It's true. Tavi wouldn't even let me record a single note if she knew it was going to end up on one of my tracks." the DJ added, nodding as the human lover of the finest orchestrated music replied to the cellist.

"Well I do favour the violin, I do often practice when I am not teaching or researching, however the cello does have its own divine dialect."

"True, I instantly took to the cello, seeing as it was my special talent of course, but it did have its own beautiful voice."

"Well perhaps if I do manage to repair yours and your friend's instruments you could give me a teasing of this talent you claim to have." She couldn't help but give a small grin, but a quick as it came, it had disappeared to reveal a neutral business look.

"Very well. I look forward to having my cello back. Perhaps you're not as much of a vulgar criminal as I had assumed."

"Still just as handsome though right?" he replied, earning a giggle from Vinyl as he finished assorting the broken remains of 'Wubsy'.

"Do not push your luck. I will cast you back out, gift wrapped, for the human hunters to collect you." she replied, stepping upstairs. "And when you finished, you can fix the roof as well." Her final statement was greeted by a sigh from the man.

"What am I? A construction worker?" He spoke, not taking his eyes of the debris before him. He turned and faced the smiling unicorn, asked for some tools and mentally began constructing the device. He understood the mechanics behind the speaker, which unfortunately meant more effort on his part to decide how repair it without the bass shaking it apart.

A soft trot caught his attention as he had created several ways to fix the speaker.

"Here is my cello, well what remains of it after your friend was finished with it." He recognised the poised voice as a saddle bag dropped before him. The cellist gave him a small disheartened look.

"I'll get right on it after I fix these speakers." He responded looking back at her.

"Here you are, I got a tool box as a gift from one of the techno guys in this club in Hoofington, never thought I'd need it" A red steel box hovered in front of the man, much to his disapproval. He had come to terms with A) magic existed here B) as his escort described it, he and his friends were watched. Evidence of this was when Vinyl described what he really wanted one Hearts Warming eve: a violin with a calculator built into it. She didn't tell him he was created by a pony, for fear of either being seen as a lunatic or causing him to have a mental break down.

"Thanks. I will need to talk to you soon, Vinyl. It will be about how this thing should look, and if it sounds right or not." He was already unlocking the repair kit. He realised 'techno guys' meant technician, not a pony who was a fan of the music genre. He spied some black tape, plastic packs of wires that were separated by colour, solder and soldering iron and a few spare parts.

"Would you like anything else? Some tea perhaps?" Octavia asked, slowly losing the hostility in her voice.

"I would love an Earl grey, or perhaps some mint tea would be nice." he asked, not holding back the cheeky grin.

"Brilliant, another one who is opposed to the simple concoction of 'tea bag and milk cuppas'." she remarked, cringing at the last part.

"Hey! You said I should try some tea, and I found a favourite." chided the unicorn.

"I understand. I do not hate them, but I would always choose a finer option." Frank responded. The navy blue maned pony stood there looking between the two.

"Two Earl greys and what would you like, Vinyl? Another bottle of blood clotting, sugary, carbonated bottle of Coca-Coltla?" Octavia added, wearing a morbid expression whilst still facing the human.

"Er yeah...I would like that. Thanks Tavi." The confused mare replied. She looked back and forth between the two as they happily separated, and then received a disturbing revelation.

"Oh no. There's two of them," she whispered in horror.

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Meanwhile, in a boutique on the outskirts, the tranquillity of the landscape was a soothing backing track to the village’s inhabitants. Whether it was natural grace of a swooping song bird, the cooling breeze that whistled a sweet melody through the bushes or even joyous giggles of a tiny duo of fillies running, the sound of a distant quiet town would melt the worries of any pony.

Discounting the small clusters of ponies still prowling around for the new arrivals.

It had been some time since the abrupt sighting of the humans, of which only a selected few could vouch for their appearance, even fewer feared of doing so after Celestia's order to abandon Hank.

Soon enough as the sun started dying down, the harmonic birds still took flight and continued singing a final song.

However to one pony in the dress shop, she couldn't care less. She had something else that was music to her ears.

Resting across a long couch, her angelic body reaching to the other side, Rarity had her forehooves perched on the side and laid her head between the two. Tilting her head to the side, allowing her ear to pick up every sweet syllable, she kept a small smile directed towards the source.

"Oh your majesty, you do know how to flatter a lady," she remarked, eagerly anticipating the next comment.

Albert sat across from her dreamy gaze, one leg crossed over the other and his best smile on show. His cheeks were slowly succumbing to pain of prolonged use, despite years of practise with the most tedious, annoying and unwanted citizens of Primane, he found giving a warm-hearted grin for this long to be a trial worthy of Tartarus.

"It is only is flattery if it is exaggerated or not true my dear, and I don't believe I have told a single lie yet. I lady of such poise and grace has no right to be misinformed; you truly are a magnificent creature. A unique combination of the intellect and creativity you put into your dresses and the natural blessing of your appearance. It is I who is honoured to meet you." The Prince had been straining his flirting skills to maintain his stay in the boutique.

Suffice to stay he probably would be welcome for the next twenty years, uninvited. For the past hour, after another hour of explaining his troubles, request, and immediate history, the fashionista hung to his every word as if it was liquid gold.

"Oh please stop," Rarity repeated, reaching the hundredth time, "but if you wish to continue I won't hinder you," she finished, fluttering her eyelashes. Both of them saw past this façade, as they had done for what seemed like an eternity for him and a short lived evening of having every, single, possible, quality being described poetically for her.

If I had known he was so charming, I would have given that show a second chance. Perhaps I should at least try to overlook his...brutish side. The fashionista was lost to her musings, until she recalled the episode where he put a bullet through a dragon’s skull mid-flight. The landing wasn't pretty either.

I don't think I can say anything else. I give it to her; she appears modest, perhaps the best example of a lady I have ever had the...pleasure of meeting? Lovely, yet demanding at the same time. Perhaps I have gone on for far too long. He had only managed to complete his thought bubble when a sudden ringing, followed by a large thud, erupted from the entrance.

Both the blonde man and the deep purple maned pony both faced the intruder, or intruders as the case seemed to be.

The Diarch was pleased to be given a swift escape route, the phrase saved by the bell became evident once said doorbell stopped ringing, whilst the mare opposite him, who thought she was living out every other mare's dream of having somepony be able tell them how unique they were, was disgruntled by the arrival of the newcomers.

Oh just as I was about to inquire about getting him some more clothing, after a few more minutes of this wonderful conver-my how the time has flown by. she thought, squinting at the sun which had moved since she last checked. Her royal navy orbs made out two small silhouettes, the small tuft of hair passing as somepony's mane, and the small protruding horn of another.

"Rarity! Can the Applebloom and Scootaloo stay over tonight and..." a little marshmallow trailed off, as she skidded across the floor. Halting in between the elders, the filly cocked her head to the side and studied the beast before her.

"What did she say Sweetie Belle? Can we stay over or not? I wanna find Applebloom before-" Another young pony entered the room, this time a tangerine shade, wearing energetic purple tuft for hair. The little pegasus joined the unicorn in staring at the strange creature sitting in a weird position.

"Sweetie Belle! Don't be rude! Stop staring at the lovely gentlecolt. sorry, gentleman." the elder mare scolded, bringing the duo out of their bewilderment. Whilst Sweetie Belle turned to face, and question, her sister, Scootaloo's eyes widened and sparkled at the sight of the man.

"Rarity, what is it?" The younger asked curiously, edging back towards her sister. He was amused to be referred as 'it', he did have time to come to terms with being a mythological being, but he thought he should show that this creature had some form of intellect.

"Little one, I am Prince-"

"ALBERT! From My Big Human!" the pegasus chirped, bounding onto his lap. Whilst she gave a gleeful smile up to the man, he and the pearl white filly wore a confused look, directed at the said orange pony. Rarity, on the other hand, was encased in a deep fear.

"You are correct young one, I am Prince Albert," he switched to a more curious tone of voice and leant forward, "How do you know my name? Furthermore, what is this 'My Big Human' you claim I am from?"

"Oh that's easy! I know who you are because Rainbow dash showed me the TV show My Big Human. I've seen all your fights, and that episode when you were wrestling with a three headed werewolf, who turned out to be your father, who you managed to save and end the curse was my favourite." she chirped bouncing up and down on his lap, wings replicating the sound of a dragon fly. His sense of mirth and joy disintegrated, and became a controlled rage and a more harsh Prince attitude.

"Little one, I will only ask this once... How do you know that?" His once warm smile, that coaxed the little filly into such a friendly state, fell and a scolding expression soon followed. She back up to the edge of his knees.

"Err... I watched the episode in season 2? I-I-I started watching the cartoon about four years ago." she asked, worry for her health laced in every stuttered word. "You mean you don't know you're not real?" Before he could respond, Rarity stepped in tried to convince him she was just being imaginative. A terrible excuse. However, it was her turn to be saved by the doorbell.

"Rarity! Rarity!" A southern accent cried out. All heads turned to face another filly, pale yellow and wearing a pink bow. "Applejack needs your help capturin' a weird looking'..." Another young pony repeated the trend of gawking at the creature. However this one took a different option when her brain started working.

She attacked.

"Take this you monster! Ah'll save yer Scootaloo!" the newcomer yelled, beating the monster. By which he felt the fierce prodding of all her might against his shins.

"Applebloom! He's okay. He's friendly. I would have run away if I was in any danger." the orange pony reassured her friend, hopping off the still anxious man. Rarity calmed panicked filly down, and asked her to explain her intrusion. Half way through explaining that her elder sister Applejack was chasing a similar creature to Albert, whose description matched that of his mute friend, another voice cried out.

"Come back here you vermin! Ah ain't done hog tying yer legs!" an angered apple farmer cried out. A pair of footsteps were heard racing towards the boutique, and moments after everyone stood up and faced the doorway, the actual wooden door collapsed and revealed a black ball.

It had rope restricting the movements of its mid-section, to long legs sprouting out and a shadowy cloak around it. Once Albert, and Scootaloo to his dismay, recognised that Shadowman had broken down the door, the man was already standing up. Rarity was in mortified and grasped Sweetie Belle instinctively.

"Hello Shadow. Perhaps you should just knock next time?" Albert responded, still holding a frustrated mask. Not at the intrusion of his ally, but what the little skinny tangerine with wings had said.

As shadow man rolled onto his front, attempting to get on his knees, another ring of rope hovering above him. It slammed down and constricted him in a way to make a Python envious. As he was being pulled away by an unknown force, he spun around on the door and placed his legs on each side of the frame. Much to the amazement of the crowd behind him, he was standing up against the wall. Both the strain in his shaking legs and the painful groan of the wood he stood on hinted at the power of the opposition.

Albert quickly rushed over to his snared comrade and grasped him in his own lock. Wrapping his arms around the chest, he attempted to push forward. Although it did combat the force effectively, he still hadn't removed his friend from the wall.

"Applejack! Stop! They won't hurt us!" Scootaloo rushed out, ducking under the horizontal legs of the phantom, and racing out of the boutique. Guided by a tense rope, she finally found an angered mare. She was pulling the rope away from the boutique by facing towards the town, more determined now than ever before.

For the past two hours, she had been chasing the dangerous creature, almost trapping the abomination numerous times. Leading him to the outskirts, resulting in fewer areas to lurk and hide in, the farmer used the last of her rope. Applejack often growled at herself for forgetting about his twin blades, which were often used to slash the past two ropes around his wrists. Now that she had immobilised his arms, she was reeling in her prize.

"Scoo'aloo ah ain' go' 'ime for dis, ah go' a mons'er 'er cash," she replied agitated, not willing to open her mouth fully to lose the rope. The cowpony managed to get a step forward, grinning at the thought of finally being able to subdue this creature.

"But Prince Albert is in there as well. Prince Albert! He ain't hurting nopony, he's not even bothered by Applebloom hitting him!"

The mare, whose coat was a much lighter tone of apricot to the filly's, paused and turned her head at breakneck speed.

"Wha'?"

Back in the boutique another thud was heard.

Suddenly the rope went slack, combined with the pulling force of the Prince, the bipedal duo were sent backwards. The impact knocked the wind out of both of them. Whilst one was scrambling to his knees, again, the other was already standing up. Not for long however.

"Oh my, Prince Albert are you okay? What about Shad-your companion." Despite pronouncing the first half of his name, the Prince was more concerned about his gift wrapped friend. He registered the worry in Rarity's voice, especially after seeing her still clutch her little sister, and continued hoisting his team mate up.

Even as Applebloom punched his leg.

"Applebloom stop! They are not going to hurt us." Sweetie Belle piped up, removing her elder's hoof from her face.

"What do yer mean they ain't gonna hurt us? Haven't you heard the bed time stories about the humans! Monsters!" She responded, pointing both an accusative hoof and a fierce glare at the member of royalty.

"Little one, we have been trying to hide to avoid the human hunters, I have been here for two hours with Lady Rarity." he added calmly, balancing Shadowman on his feet.

"Is that true?" The little filly was confused, especially when the poised mare confirmed he had been a perfect gentleman his entire stay. After vouching for his lack of hostility, Applebloom turned to face the man, holding an apologetic look.

"Well...if Rarity says you were bein' nice, and thinkin' about how yer friend didn't try to hurt us with those knives of his, then maybe...Applejack is wrong about y'all," she began softly, circling the wooden floor with her hoof. She looked up to him and said tenderly, "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"That is okay little one. You were trying to protect your friends. You are a brave little filly, and perhaps even a good hunter to chase my friend," Albert responded, earning a nod from the black figure.

"I accept your apology, now it’s time to-OOFFF!" Both he and his friend were sent into the back room, yet again through another locked door, by a powerful kick. Upon landing, both slammed into an item in the back room. The shadow ploughed face first into a wardrobe, spilling a rainbow of dresses onto the floor, whilst the Prince tackled a gang of mannequins.

"Y'ALL STAY AWAY FROM MY SISTER!" The protective cowpony retracted her hind hooves and turned to face her younger sibling. "Applebloom are yer alright?" she asked, checking over the yellow filly.

"What did yer do that for? He was being real nice to me. I was apologising' then you kicked 'em both into the back room." Applebloom replied, swatting an orange hoof away angrily.

"Apologising? For what?" The elder glared back, before switching to Rarity.

"Why were you keeping Prince Albert here with the girls? Have you lost your mind?" she chided, edging closer to the fashionista.

"First of all, they were not originally meant to be here, I had no idea they were hoping for a sleep over. Secondly, he has been nothing short of a kind, charming, lovely, romantic-" Her lips soured, before she bit them and faced the apple farmer.

"Beg yer pardon?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I said a classic gentlecolt," she replied quickly. "He was looking for a place to stay until night fall. Once the girls stormed in, he was only ever friendly to them. Even as Scootaloo invaded his personal space and Applebloom began beating his legs." She took a glance at the named filly's, which both responded with a sheepish grin and began slowly creeping away.

"I'd imagine Shadowman was the same, was he not? Did he attempt to strike you?"

"Well...no. He did cut mah ropes, but he never tried to hurt me or Applebloom. Even when I did catch him a couple of times, he didn't cut the rope with those swords-things of his until mah little sis was out of the way." She paused and recalled each incident and how he never did attack first. Barring the time he surprised her by wrapping her head in somepony's jacket, which was left out to dry, he hadn't actually wanted to come in contact with the equines.

"Oh darn it. Maybe yer right, but ah still don't trust 'em. They're wrong. You've seen what they can do! Hurting' others like that, it's just plain wrong," Applejack remarked, bringing back the reason she chased Shadowman in the first place. "They ain't friendly." she stated firmly.

"Hey Rarity! We're gonna need- oh hey AJ, we need you too." A cyan blur raced through the doorway, upon doing so it ceased to be an airborne smudge and focused on said doorway. The azure speedster studied the trodden door, the boot prints on either side of the door frame, and the rest of the search party making their way over. Turning back around, she glanced around with a worried look, scanning the room present before spotting the back room.

Upon spotting an unconscious Prince, her eyebrows burrowed into a frown.

"Applejack! Rarity! Did you guys knock out Albert? He was Celestia's favourite!" Dash scolded.

"Well I thought...wait...the Princess likes My Big Human?" AJ quizzed.

"Why yes dear Applejack, I do. Prince Albert is my favourite human. No offence to Hank, but the prince does like to analyse and plan out his next five steps," Celestia spoke, gracing the boutique's occupants with her presence.

"Oh dear, erm...Applejack I think you should explain the current status of our new FRIENDS," she remarked, bowing and making her voice heard.

Well, it’s a good thing I have nothing else to do for the rest of the afternoon. the fashionista thought, worried about the no doubt troublesome future.

"Oh you mean to say they are here? Splendid." Celestia give herself a quick once over, before continuing with, "I think I shall properly introduce myself."

Oh I do hope Albert is in the mood to give me the royal introduction. she thought, re-activating her fan-mare side with a gleeful smile.

Chapter 5: Lunar gaze

In the dark confines of her chamber, where the void like walls were littered with pulsating lights, was a single dark alicorn working the evening away. Not for the sake for her royal duties, nor was it for her subjects who would see her work; it was for the simple practice of leisure.

Without her night themed regalia, she was free to be who she wanted to be. An artist; inspired by her work amongst the stars, she quickly took to the hobby without missing a single beat. Much like her sister, she craved for the successful transfer of her mental creativity to the blank canvas before her.

Similar to a writer, each stroke had to be carefully added, and each tone had to be just righ to capture the moment. The message had to be clear, much like the drawn outlines of the image before the Mistress of the night.

A project she had been working on for a meeting amongst her favoured subjects, however it was not that she cared for them more, it was merely that she found their embrace more refreshing. This would be, as well as the rest of the collection, a gift in return to their kindness.

That, and the fact she promised the rest of the ponies better pictures than what last year’s ‘artists’ presented at Bronycon.

She stepped back, bringing the paintbrush and pallet with her in a grasp of navy aura. Studying the picture, she was content with letting the vibrant grass lands dry, before moving onto the four dark figures standing tall.

Well except the shorter pony-tailed one.

Setting the entire image down in a storage cupboard built into her wall, levitating it with an ethereal grasp, she closed the door ready to move on to her secret version. One she would die before revealing, never the less felt compelled to complete. From under the bed slid another canvas, draped over by velvet cloth, and was soon hovering before her. Removing the cover, she whims-fully looked upon her guilty pleasure.

Her and a large stallion; he was dark and mysterious as the midnight sky. Bearing wings, hoof bands and shades, nuzzling her affectionately. Relieved to be not the first pony to paint such pictures, she continued shading the dark meadow beneath them. She knew that this was just an innocent thought, a pondering of what could happen in some alternate universe, nothing more than a plagued image that would not leave her alone. She knew it was nothing serious.

Occasionally, however, she didn’t mind.

The broad strokes defined the single black rose clenched between his teeth, as she amused herself with this well-kept secret.

“Almost complete, soon I can be at rest with the images you taunt me with Shadow. I only have to think of what your cutie mark could possibly be.” She pondered, wondering how to capture a perfect symbol of her beloved character. Still unable to deduce the talent stamp, she returned it to its secluded resting place. Taking a moment to look back, she was reminded of some of the other ponies’ not so…innocent works of art.

“I can’t believe so many would go so far as to portray such vulgar acts. Worst visit to Hoofington it has ever been my displeasure to be a part of.” She chided to herself, cringing as pornographic images flooded her mind. “I’m glad I put a hole in that library; terrible curating, disgusting stories, although ‘The Prince and I’ was a brilliant romance novel and had the decency to miss out the coitus, those other images shall forever rot in Tartarus.” She remarked, harrumphing to no pony in particular.

Before she could prepare for her compulsory duty, a flash of blazing light erupted spontaneously and with it fell a scroll upon her bed. Bearing the celestial seal, she made haste to read it.

Luna.

I require the Species altering spell ASAP. Do not question why; all will be revealed shortly.

Wait until my duties are over before you to arrive, as we must be careful how we handle this situation. Please withhold all urges as we meet in the library Ponyville at sunset.

You are not going to want to miss this, but please note it will be difficult to restrain yourself.

I can barely contain my fan-mare side at the moment.

Your ever loving sister

Celestia

Confused, but with new found purpose, she made her way out of her chamber. She stepped into the brighter hallway, eyes adjusting to the inbound light rays, as she made her way towards the Library.

“What ever could she mean?” she mumbled to herself, recalling the whereabouts of the powerful tome.

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“Frank? Are you sure that this will work?”

“That depends, do you plan on switching it on today or never at all?” the man replied, slumping into the self-righted couch before the TV. His fingers had been punctured numerous times, some resulting in three fingers in need of plasters, however the majority were minor injuries and quickly stopped secreting tiny crimson spots.

“No need to be snarky, I told you to let me handle the wiring, but you had to be such a Frank.” The unicorn retorted, slipping into a common slang term. He arched an eyebrow, summoning an explanation that it meant to be full of pride and wind up hurting yourself.

She finished by saying the definition came from watching him and his friends on the television. To be exact it came about when upon the end of the first season, where Frank devised a machine to increase gold production. The results landed him in hospital with every bone broken, and whilst still smothered by his cast, the Prince could only say ‘it sounds like him, he’s such a Frank.’ The fact that he couldn't be identified, told him how severe his injuries were at the time.

“I told you not to do that. I am not a cartoon character.” He stated, shooting her a deathly glance. She waved it off, and continued.

“I think I know a cartoon character when I see one bro, you should not be real.” She stated in a matter-of-fact tone. She hopped behind her turn tables, used her magic to drink out of a bottle of Coca-Coltla, before he responded.

“Well how do you explain my physical form, the way I interact with the environment around me? More so, why do still retain my memories? I have a childhood, I have a mother and father, therefore was born. I think, therefore I am.” He added, ending with philosophical look and folding his arms over. He had removed the jacket, long after he felt it restrain his movements.

“Dude, I have no idea.” She shrugged and started flipping switches, “All I know is that you pal, are not meant to be here.” His face deadpanned, catching her eye.

“Thank you for that wonderful insight. I was starting to believe the human hunters wanted to offer me a house in the prairie, and not the ones seen on TV either.” He retorted, before focusing on the mercury ‘earth’ pony walking in with a third helping of tea. Plate between her teeth, she had to resort to settling it down upon the floor.

“Mint is all we have left I’m afraid.” She interjected, earning an appreciative nod from the man.

“That will do, for now.” He replied, aggravating her slightly with his grin. He had been winding her up, and watching her spin, all evening. Although he was sure to compliment her whenever he felt the need to, he wasn’t a complete jerk towards her. He only threw the odd comment here and there about her home’s décor, or her flank to her resentment, every now and then to even out his otherwise kind nature.

“I couldn’t help but hear your conversation, and can’t help but agree with Vinyl. You are not meant to exist.” She stated, hoping onto the only other empty space: next to him, to her blessing.

“We know what mythological means thank you very much, I was saying that I am alive.” He stated, bringing up a portion of refreshing brew to his knee. Whilst the hot tea cup rested on his lap, the mare next him eloquently sipped some of the fluid up.

“I was testing to see if you are at average intelligence level, you have only proved otherwise so far.” She remarked, before pointing at his wounded fingers.

“Touché, anyway I am alive and very much real. As are my friends, and you can start calling us actual real live sentient beings. Or if you prefer legends will suit me just fine.” He smiled at the thought, before bringing the beverage to his lips.

“Then tell us something we don’t know about Frank, or you if you’re really him.” The DJ was almost done setting up her equipment. The monster equipment, labelled ‘Little Wubsy’, was waiting to be put through his paces after finally being repaired.

He pondered over this for a while, testing to see what would actually not be seen, deemed irrelevant to entertainment purposes suitable for this ‘show’, and convince them he was actually real.

“My middle name is Joules, I am blood type A+, and can play the violin with my tongue. I also broke my spine when I was a teenager, but was lucky enough not to sever the cord.” He stated, slowly switching focus between the two mares. Whilst Octavia could not vouch for the information, given she was not interested in the show, Vinyl had difficulty believing it was true.

“Come on, you could be making that up.” He had it, he was no longer going to live with this inane debate following him where ever he went.

“Look,” he commented raising his injured hand, “I am alive and real. I know because I think and feel. I am more than complex biology, not a product of ancient pony dreams. Look, if you cut me do I bleed?” he asked, extending his hand out towards Vinyl in the corner.

She glanced at the hand, recalling the times he hissed curse words upon damaging himself. It was true, and Octavia could see this also.

Humans are real, whether or not that was due to the sudden turn of event was to be the next matter. However, they thought to let that slide for now as he asked for them to put the topic at rest.

“So are you going to try it out or what?” he stated, finishing his tea. “That was lovely Octavia, much like your hind quarters.” he stated inspecting the bottom of his empty cup. “Same can’t be said about the colours in this room, however." He heard a low growl to his side, signalling his success.

“Okay love birds, calm it down.” Vinyl was met with two fierce stares, much to her amusement. “Okay let’s put this baby to the test.” She slowly raised her hooves, poised like a ninja, and paused to face a worried mare announcing her concerns.

“Scratch, I think you can wait until morning, it’s getting dark.” Octavia suggested, concerned for her ears and the rest of the sleeping town.

“I also think you should lower the setting, I’ve added a lot more kick to this thing.” Frank added, eyeing up the device. He was hit hard by the previous comment like a freight train, as a revelation entered his mind via his hand slapping his head.

“I gotta go.” he added in a serious tone. He put the cup down and moved to the window. Checking the surroundings, he then began to head towards the door, grabbing his jacket on the way out.

“Where are you going?” Octavia questioned, curiosity laced in her voice.

He turned around, standing between the door and the staircase. He explained he would be meeting his squad at a rendezvous point nearby shortly, then they would be finding a way home, They argued for him to stay longer, allowing the night to fully take its toll on drowsy ponies. However, he was reluctant succumb to their reasoning, claiming his Prince needed him.

The slight use of profanity won the argument for him.

“Thank you by the way.” He gave a small smile of gratitude, before facing the cellist. “I may not have been the ideal guest,” he stated earning a snort from the focus of his attention, “but I meant every word I said that was complimentary. I guess being lost here and helpless, not to mention cutting myself a few times, didn’t exactly help my mood. Never the less I shouldn’t have been rude. It was just a coping mechanism.” He gave an apologetic look as his hand rubbed the back of his head, repeatedly bumping into the base of his ponytail.

“It’s alright bro, we understand, right Tavi?” the alabaster unicorn gave a smile to her roommate opposite her, who was only staring back at the man. She still had a neutral look, but arched an eyebrow.

“Even when you continuously commented about the desirable nature of my derrière? Was that all true?” she asked, refilling a cup of tea. He spotted she was trying to hide a smirk when her lips dipped moments before the teacup obscured them.

“I’ll let you decide that one,“ he said slyly, lowering her eyebrow in the process. “However, Mrs Octavia, Vinyl Scratch, thank you for being great hostesses. Now I must leave you; I have a job to do.” Frank began to twist the door knob, a though about how ponies could do this crossed his mind as the door slowly opened. However the thought was put aside once the DJ spoke up.

“Hey don’t be a stranger; if you need badass beats, or something classical, hit us up.” chirped Vinyl.

“Well don’t physically please. Remember what happened last time one of you did that?” Octavia quipped, before smiling at the man. “And it is Miss Octavia.”

“Like I care, tell that to the stallions.” He responded, before relating to how the use of her flank could be used as an advertisement board.

“Goodbye Frank.”

“See you when I see you Octavia.” He replied, stepping out into the cold unknown.

The snow white pony was bamboozled, especially when the only other occupant seemed content with his insulting remark. The mare in question seemed more at ease, happily settling into her couch and finally drinking a new cup of homemade mint tea.

“Did I miss something?”

“Yes, yes you did. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Like the way I missed out on telling him to fix your cello? Or better yet the roof?”

“… Oh for Celestia’s sake.”

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Pained, groggy, and feeling the wrath of a mental assault, Prince Albert’s mind slowly returned to him. Along the way, it made sure to make him away of the intense migraine, beating in time to the rhythm of his heart. Opening his eyes, he spied the blurry room he was once thrown into.

Still smothered by violet; the theme of the colour followed around, until he spied a white blob heading towards him. The fading light of closing his eyes soon rectified his vision upon opening them.

He realised it was pony; four hooves were the first focused things for him to see. At least he could confirm he was not being interrogated as he brought his hands freely to his eyes to rub them softly. He had a feeling he also knew who this particular pony was.

“Hello? Are you feeling fine?” Her voice soothed his mind as it glided through his ears.

“Let’s check, long legs,” he stated, starting to raise his head after looking at her horse shoes, “lovely divine white chest,” he pointed out upon coming to the breast plate, “wondrous wings,” he added as he reached the neck, “and a heavenly smile.” He added, causing a smile to sprout on her worried face. The more she fought it, the bigger it grew.

“You must be my guardian angel; yes I am more than fine now.” He finished grinning.

Oh my, he is exactly like the way I always imagined him being. I could get used to this, hehe; I can’t believe I’m actually talking with Prince Albert! And he’s flirting with me! Celestia mentally noted, restraining the urge to unleash her fan-mare-ish squeal.

“That is wonderful news; I was concerned I wouldn’t be able to finally meet you.” she replied, turning to face the door behind her. “He is fine, you can come in now.” Turning back to face him, she spotted him slowly rising out of his chair.

“Please, sit down. I’d imagine you’ve been through a lot in recent times.” Celestia spoke softly, attempting to make a vague assumption about the truth, she already knew about. He saw through it, as what the little orange pegasus said to him returned to his mind.

“I know you know what I’ve been through. I would prefer you to simply not lie to me.” He stood at eye level, head to head with the alicorn, he gave slight frown in disappointment.

“Err…what do you mean?” she replied, backing up out of the room. She was happy he was walking, she was giddy that it Prince Albert, but if he tried to attack her she wouldn’t hesitate to render him unconscious once more.

“The little filly, she knows more about me than anyone should know.” He eased his frown up, following her towards the door. “I only ask that you be completely honest with me.” he added, grimacing as a sudden bolt of pain shot up his back.

“Very well I shall inform you, all of you, of what the current situation is in this world. Be warned however, you will not like the truth.” She turned around and headed out of the door, disappointed to not be on pleasant terms with him.

“Thank you. Now, I think proper introductions are in order.” He stated walking back into a more familiar room. The light from the candles started irritate his eyes, but he could make out the ponies of the library, Miss Rarity whose eyes shone upon his entrance, and new addition.

She shied away, hiding under her hat. Her apricot fur seemed unfazed by the illumination of the candle’s flame, unlike the other coats that seemed to be tainted by its glow.

His spirits heightened after being reacquainted with Hank. The giant grinned, extending a hand to greet him. Both held a vice grasp, pulling each other closer to bump shoulders.

“I see you survived the assault, with little injuries as well.” The Princess spied a hovering pegasus, cyan and rainbow haired, moving towards them.

“I was fine, turns out we’re celebrities here, sort of.” he responded, pointing towards the Princess.

“Yeah, I gathered. So care to explain how I came to be unconscious?”

Before the titan could explain, Rainbow Dash interrupted the conversation.

“Applejack thought you were going to hurt her sister, Applebloom, so she kind of bucked into next week. Or Rarity’s back room.” she stated, looking over his shoulder. The giant only shrugged and nodded, losing the smile he had from meeting his lord.

Applejack however, was also not very pleased with the speedster pointing out her mistake, an honest one, but with painful results.

“I will come round to that but first I we should get to know each other better. Starting with you my dear.” He turned his head to face Celestia, earning a momentary look of surprise.

He stepped forward, ignoring the pain in his side, and stopped before her.

Is he?

“My lovely lady of white.” He added, already earning rolling eyes from Hank, Rainbow Dash and Twilight.

I think he is.

“I am Prince Albert, Diarch of Primane.” He knelt down upon the carpeted floor, gently raised her hoof, and landed a brief kiss just passed the horse shoe. Whilst both he, and Hank, was not looking at her, she gave the librarian and the racer a large smile. Both were tittering quietly as she recomposed herself; she may have looked the part but her mind was screaming like a true humare.

“Why thank you. I am Princess Celestia, Diarch of Equestria.” She gave a bow before her equal in authority, well he would have been had his land been real. “It is very nice to meet you Prince Albert.” The two shared a happy smile, then he realised he had forgotten one key fact. He couldn’t see Shadowman.

“Where is Shadowman?” He was met with an awkward silence. He spied the Pink one from before spring out of her seat and land before him.

“He went to get Hank.” she chirped, pointing towards the front door. He spied the door, perfectly repaired, and sitting calmly as if it wasn’t face down hours ago.

“You mean Frank.” The brother corrected, scowling at the cotton candy party pony.

“Oh silly me, Frank’s the one who likes to play ‘Mr Grumpy pants’.” she stated, slapping her hoof against her forehead. “You’re the one who likes to play ‘Throw the cart’.”

“They were only slowing us down, besides I cleared up the traffic.” The tank replied, folding his arms.

“Well I know Shadowy likes to play hide and seek . If he can’t find Frank, then nopony can’t. Well maybe me, but it is only my third favourite game.” She added, earning a curious look form her lavender friend.

“What is your favourite game them Pinkie Pie?” she asked, moving closer to the group.

“Spin the bottle. That always brings a smile on a pony’s face. Well mostly colts, and a few mares, I can’t think why though.” The ponderous pink pony was further confused by the immediate facehoof, and palm, of a few individuals.

“So…um… are you okay? Do you need more of Zecora’s medicine?” The timid butter pegasus asked, stepping out of the corner of the room. She saw how discomforted his walk was, the way he jerked with every step. Both the caretaker's and the Prince's face soured recalling the smell of the putrid concoction.

“I will be fine, I have survived worse. Although his comes pretty close, I can walk it off. Now about my attacker.” The entire group turned to face the farm pony, still hiding behind her hat. She flicked it up, sheepishly glancing at him and the rest.

Thankfully she had sent her sister home, along with the rest of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, because she sensed a long talk coming her way.

Her azure friend glared at her, expecting some sort of apology attempt. However it was when the Princess nodded, holding a reassuring smile that she began to talk.

“Ah’m sorry I bucked yer.” she spoke, rubbing the back of her head; she gave him an apologetic look before continuing. “Ah thought you were going to hurt mah sister is all, and I didn’t know you were friendly like.”

He stepped forward, knelt down in front of her, and wore an emotionless mask. He saw the worry in her eyes build up, but evaporated slowly as he smiled warmly.

“It is okay, I understand. You wanted to protect your sibling; I would do the same for my younger brother. Perhaps next could you just ask first before almost breaking my spine?” he suggested, chuckling slightly as she winced. He reassured her that he was returning to fit condition, but the guilt still hung there.

He planned to do the royal introduction, however, he only got as far as getting her name before she stopped him completing the tradition. She wasn’t one for this sort of treatment, and politely asked for him not to bother. He was more than happy to keep the peace and left it at that.

“So, Princess, what happens now?” Albert asked the other royal Equine.

“We find the rest of your kind, who should be regrouping by Twilight’s library if I’m correct.” She glanced over to Hank, who was rooting had his hands in his combat pants and was now resting against the wall.

Despite the numerous times the fashionista asked him not to. Now she only glared at the side of his head.

“That’s what Shadowman said. It’s nice to know you guys were going to rescue me. I’m touched.” He remarked, switching focus to Albert.

“We were planning on rescuing you, just when we had the element of surprise.” He responded, folding his arms.

“You mean when you were safe right?”

“Possibly, likely, maybe.” the Prince responded, rotating his hand around, earning a grin from the behemoth.

“Well I think we should meet up with Shadowman. He might be holding out in your library, Twinkle.” he suggested, glancing towards the purple pony.

“Twilight, actually, and yeah I think we should head back. It’s getting dark so we might be able to make it back without bumping into anypony.” The majority agreed, however one more eager to return than the others.

Celestia had a frightening epiphany, as she realised the sun was setting.

Her sister would soon be joining them shortly, but would be meeting Frank and (unfortunately for him) Shadowman first.

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The agreed rendezvous point wasn’t exactly the library; they were going to meet up at some point in the street at an unspecified time. Frank had been waiting for half an hour, watching form the alleyway as the neighbourhood lights were snuffed out for the night. The slow rise of the moon came into view above his intended destination.

The library was opposite him, down the road from the small passage. He leant against the wall, lighting a cigar found in his upper jacket pocket. The soft glow of a fine Handsterdanian cigar lifted his small sorrows as he checked the street before him. The plan was simple, follow a zigzag pattern through the alleyways leading to about halfway, before creeping along the left out carts.

It was simple, and yet, he felt something was waiting for him. Something was waiting for him to make the first move. Had this been two master minds caught in a battle of the wits in chess, or even the mundane unchallenging trail of ‘Jenga’, he would have boldly stepped out first. However, this was not his area of expertise, he was a support guy, opening locked doors and feeding critical information from afar.

He was out of his element, like Shadowman in a karaoke bar. Or that speed dating restaurant a couple of months back.

Paranoia took over as he glanced behind the alleyway he had silently edged through. Shadows forged by boxes and bins, the trodden newspapers and posters littered across the floor, and the closed window had remained in the same state since he last saw them.

He turned back to the street, taking in a refreshing drag of burning foreign tobacco. He sighed loudly, allowing the smoke to escape into the air before him. Without taking his eyes off the alleyway to the right of the street, he snuffed out the cigar by pressing it against the wall, and pocketed it for later.

“Better get moving before this town gives me the crazy.” he remarked to himself, stepping out before hearing the distinctive sound of heavy breathing. Frozen in place, he managed to crane himself around mid-step, and spot the source of the disturbance.

A pony: mint green coat, buzz saw mane, with a single white stripe, pinpoint amber eyes (from what he could tell), and a creeping grin, moving at the kind of pace that looks like an albino snake slowly slithering out of a hole. The pearly whites remained on show, even as she continued breathing as if she had finished a marathon.

“Crazy? Bonbon called me crazy, but what does she know, eh?” She crackled to herself, left eye twitching and stepping forward. He backed up accordingly. “You know, I never thought I’d meet you of all humans.” She continued, not taking those narrowed eyes off him.

“So I’ve been told. I thought it would be a good idea to share my charm with the rest of the world.” he replied instinctively, looking over his shoulder to see if the alley way was still there.

She giggled again, this time it was more innocent, which only made the situation more horrific.

“You’re still funny, even after your traumatic painfull death; I can’t wait to take you back home with me.” She edged closer; he still had the alley in sight.

“What? No dinner or a date, well you do seem like my type of girl. Say how about you go away and meet me here tomorrow?”

He kept on edging towards the alleyway. However, given that he was facing the mare he tripped over the cobbled curb. He took a moment to quickly glance at his only escape route; it must have appeared to be some form of twitch at the speed he performed it at.

However, she caught onto his slowly developing plan.

“Oh no no no noooo. My Big Human,- I always wanted to say that- you won’t be getting away so easily. I suppose dinner and a date isn’t such a bad idea after all.” she spoke, slowly lowering into a pouncing stance. Where amazement, and an unsettling amount of obsession, once rested a new face of anger and predatory gaze now sat.

The hunt was on.

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Shadowman was walking through the alley, resting his hands on his lower back to pop his spine. He mentally noted to never again be on the wrong side of that orange pony ever again. Even afterwards, when she apologised she scared him. It had been a while since anyone, who wasn’t given the satanic powers the pink blur possessed, has managed to sneak up upon him.

Let alone deliver an unexpected blow.

Still the past was the past, the events happened long ago he guess from the rising moon. He made his way over towards the library, recognising the same path he took to arrive at the boutique. Key milestones were the traces of cut rope, footprints in the mud, and finally the black jacket he used to temporally blind his pursuer.

Upon reaching the end of the side passage, gaining full view of the solid oak tree, he paused to check if the coast was clear on his side of the street. Peeking out, he only spied the windows of houses blacking out. He heard a mother wish her daughter goodnight, yanking more bitter memories from his mind. Not of his own mother, he couldn’t ever look to her with anything less than admiration.

It was one day, one moment, one minute, he could never forget.

Shaking his head lose free of an irrelevant past event, he double checked his surroundings. Accepting the fact the stone road was empty, he moved out of the dark. His trench coat seemed to want to cling onto the shadows, and remained outstretching slightly in the opposite direction to where he walked.

Hawk hazel eyes inspected the window of the library. Hoping to see his team mate scanning the collection of literature and knowledge, he was only met with a quiet sight. A single candle was lit, illuminating the empty large room he occupied hours ago. He could still see the chair he slept in until the Princess’ arrival.

Returning to the street, not willing to be caught off guard again, he paused on the spot. He was standing next to a sign of an open book, when he heard the distinct sound of a running flat footed man.

The phantom immediately recognised him as his cynical friend. Admittedly, he was relieved to him alive, but was instantly disheartened to see him running. He could only imagine that it meant another chase was on the way. To his surprise however, Frank stopped before him, panting like a dog that had ran in the sun.

“Well…it’s good… to know… you’re here.” He paused, checking behind him. “I might need that silver tongue of yours.” he remarked still gasping for air. The shaded face of his companion remained still as he looked over the arrivals shoulder.

Noticing a lack of danger, he raised an eyebrow slightly.

“There’s this pony, she’s crazy about us. Mostly me, but us all. She wants to keep us…from what I gathered anyway. She is incredible dangerous. She tried to catch me with magic a couple of times. You won't stand a chance.” He steadied his breathing rate after one final breath. His flustered cheeks revealed how out of shape his was, given that he only managed to run down the road.

“Seriously, she must have chased me for miles. She’s crazy!” he explained, refusing to reveal the origins of his chase, and yelling and causing him to flinch. Whilst he quickly scanned the area, his stealthy counterpart watched another window darken. Shadowman’s eyebrow rose further.

“I’m not joking! She…” his raging lecture mode was cut short by another voice. Sweet, calm, and hiding true emotion.

She found him.

“There you are. Come on now, play time’s over.” she stated.

“Gotta go, see you soon. Meet you back here in five.” Before the dark figure could inquire, silently off course, the man took off. Sprinting down the road, his footsteps echoed in the street, much like the hoof steps galloping past.

The mute spied an aqua mare, skidding to a halt. She then faced the man and charged for him. Preparing for another tackle, he was surprised a second time. This time it was to see how she stopped before him, beamed a smile, and then pointed a hoof at him.

“When I get Frank, you’re next.” she chirped, merrily smiling as she closed her eyes and tilted her head. Before he could process the warning, whoosh, she was gone. He watched the mint bullet take of down the road after his comrade.

He opened his mouth and raised his index finger, upon sighing his finger flopped before he massaged the bridge of his nose; at least when he was dying the world made sense.

He glanced up to the sky, seeking some form of familiarity. He got much more. A beautiful canvas, speckled with the thousands of small lights. He wished he could admire the alien sky a bit longer, but found he had wondered into the middle of the street. He took one last look at the moon, spying a unicorn head forming amongst the mile long craters.

It brought a smile, the night sky. This night sky. Not a huge one, something small like the sight he took for granted back home. A smile similar in size, to the little things he began to miss; his sharpening stone, night runs, collection of art, and the first master piece he ever appreciated and never lost interest in.

A starry night like this.

However, his musing was cut short when a large black blur bolted across the moon’s flat face. He tried to track it, but found its location impossible to lock onto, especially when he moved before under the tree for cover. Feeling an intense curiosity wash over him, he moved forward, and hoping to get a second glimpse of the flying missile. What he got was the return of the panting man.

A victorious grin on his face informed Shadow he had lost the pursuer, but the way he was sweating told him the genius hadn't ran so much since he was chased by a hydra three years ago. He also could remember the man promising to get fit.

The both knew how that turned out.

“Okay she’s gone, lets’ get inside before… another…crazy…” His lips continued to move, but no sound was being produced. Disregarding it as a chance to insult his mute method, Shadow man followed his companions gawking focus point.

“Oh, my goodness!” the dark human heard a voice squee behind him. Ridiculously close, he noted. Taking a moment to reminisce in his failure of trying to avoid being snuck upon, the man brought both palms to his face, and gently slid them down over his shades.

“You’re Shadowman!” He continued turning, also sharing a feeling of shock at the sight. She was indigo, merging with the darkening background. Same height, bearing a starlight mane, and letting it flow as free as the hidden breeze it rode on. The sapphire eyes widened, revealing small sparkles that twinkled like the stars above. The horn made him believe he had been discovered by a large unicorn. However, the slowly unfolding wings said otherwise.

“I cannot believe this! Tia has found a real live human, and it is you of them all.” she continued, bearing a grin Frank was all too familiar with.

Gulping, Shadowman stepped back into the street, raising his hands defensively. It was silent as recovering man watched the alicorn follow the assassin into the cold cobblestone road. He spied a small side bag, but then was quickly distracted by a voice he could do without hearing for the rest of the night.

“Oh you’re good. You may be smart Frank, but you can’t outsmart me.” He turned to see his stalker prowling towards him. Both humans locked eyes, before they conversed.

“Well at least mine’s a unicorn. Good luck mate, you’re probably going to need a lot of it. Heck you probably won’t make it, but best wishes anyway.” Frank spoke, backing of. The frown of the man he spoke to earned another giddy squeal from the newest addition to the hunt. The runner gave a quick nod, subtly revealing three fingers to his friend.

Okay…3. Frank noted, preparing his lungs for the next athletics session.

2, come on! You can do this! he mentally supported himself, seeing that his silent capadre was busy. Upon viewing the back of the library, he formulated a plan. Not an escape route, but something to buy him more time.

With a single finger left, he readied his legs, pointing both of them in his intended direction.

1. Do or die Frank. I choose die if anyone offers.

Chapter 6: Luna grasp.

How long has it been? Seconds? Minutes? A whole hour? It didn’t bother the midnight runner so much, he was used to strenuous exercise, but this was a whole new level. His training was designed to enhance the body’s flow over physical barriers, the speed of which he skimmed the landscape to get from A to B was crucial in his line of work. At the moment, however, he was yet to train for situations where there was no point B. He was yet to train for when he had to run for his life.

He was yet to train for when a crazed, winged, and horned equine was pursuing him.

“Please come back! We mean thou no harm Shadowman!” the aforementioned indigo alicorn pointed out, scanning from the rooftops. “We only wish to tie you up and forever rub you in the face of our sister, thus putting her in a fit of jealousy for all eternity. Together we shall be the epitome of the Brony community.”

Slithering amongst the darkened corners of the alleyway, Shadowman took note of the offer and quickly dismissed it without hesitation. He was too busy wondering why he chose to go after his comrade, especially given the incident moments ago.

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“If you squeeze him hard enough, it is said he squeaks like a chew toy!” Frank yelled, sprinting down the side of the library whilst pointing to the darkened figure. The large oak library was all that stood between him and the mint menace.

“MINE!” the unicorn yelled, darting towards the library, plotting to seize the human.

“Oh? Is that true?” the Princess of the night asked curiously, stepping closer to the man shaking his head vigorously. “How adorable.” she cooed, earning the smallest of blushes from the man, further creating a squee from the mare. “We must know if this legend be true; Shadowman, you will come with us.” she stopped, regaining her Princess like composure. “There is much squeezing to be done.”

The phantom took no notice; he was preoccupied watching the ponytailed man and his hunter complete their third lap around the tree house. He was slowly backing up, feigning being trapped. Well as much as an emotionless assassin could anyhow.

His plan was default, his plan was instinctive: back up, and get the hell out of here.

“Come now Shadow; let us ask Twilight Sparkle if she hath the required items to constrain you until Celestia arrives.” Luna added, turning to face the library.

She waited for a few seconds, eyes closed to contain the joy in her heart, but found that she couldn’t hear footsteps she was waiting for. With confusion riddled across her face, she quickly snapped back to view the spot he was once standing at, only to find what appeared to be a trench coat floating away down an alleyway.

“Wait! Don’t go! We hath not yet discovered what thy birth mark looks like.”

She immediately gave chase, pursuing him through the alley and dropping her saddle bag, whilst the genius was stuck figuring out how to lose his mare.

Coming around, this time in a clockwise direction, Frank had barely managed to formulate a plan. It was not simple, it was probably stupid, he wasn’t likely to pull it off, but he had no other option. Coming around the front of the living building, he briefly stopped to open the door just enough to leave it slightly ajar, before having to keep on moving.

“Can’t we just talk?” he asked, panting whilst taking notice of a window.

“Yeah, back at my place.” he got in reply.

“How’s about we just do it here?” he suggested, spotting the back door of the library, and more importantly a ladder.

“Because HANDS!”

“WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?” he screamed, twisting his body around to reveal open arms and a bamboozled expression.

“Enough talk! You’re all mine!” His legs gave way as he felt something tackle him to the ground. It was the sight of darkened aqua and grass that filled his vision as he tumbled. Finally coming to a halt, inches away from the road, he looked down to find he was on top of the amber eyed unicorn.

“Well, I didn’t plan for us to reach this point… yet.” she remarked, blushing and slowly retracting her hooves.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. As much of a stallion as I am, I think you’re getting confused between the literal meaning and the-” He would have said something else, but something furry stopped him speaking. With her hoof pressed against his lips, he eyed the limb up before staring into her eyes with a deep fear.

“Hush now, we can start over, all you have to do is one thing.” She added coyly.

“Mumph?” he replied, arching an eyebrow whilst the hoof was still pressed against his maw.

He watched as she closed her eyes, appearing to be in a state of blissful sleep, before pursing her lips slightly and leaning forward. Quickly, as she removed the hoof, he brought his hand up. He made it into the form of beak and pressed against her lips. Silently, Frank gagged slightly as she embraced his hand, wrapping her hoof around his arm.

Upon believing that she was kissing funny shaped lips, and wrapping her hooves around a skinny neck, she yelped and batted his arm away. He quickly took the opportunity to make a break for freedom, pulling up his jeans that had mysteriously come loose. She reacted by scuttling to her hooves and once again chasing him.

He slammed the door shut, putting his back to the passageway. He was in a starfish position, scanning the contents of the room. With an echoing thud, followed by a small groan, he opened the door by an inch and saw the equine rubbing her snout.

“You okay?” he asked, slightly concerned.

“Yeah, nothing too bad.” She responded, still clutching her nose.

“Ah, good. I was scared for second.” He once again slammed the door shut, pulled over a chair and rested it under the door knob.

“What is going on down there?” Frank heard someone yell. He traced the small pitter-patter of steps past the table he sat at hours ago, past the bookcase that seemed to be in the middle of being restacked, up the staircase, to the landing where he gazed upon the small purple lizard from before.

“Oh hey Sabrina.” Frank remarked, feeling the door trying to open.

“It’s Spike, actually; what are you doing here? Aren’t Twi and the Princess looking after you and your brother?” The young drake continued hopping down the stairs, giving a slight scowl to man.

“That’s great Jennifer. Now listen, I’m going to need your-“

BADOOM.

Frank felt his spine shake as the unicorn bucked the door.

BADOOM.

“You won’t get away from me Frank! Bon Bon will see I wasn’t crazy!”

“Lyra? What is she doing?” Spike remarked, pausing halfway down the stairs.

BADOOM.

“She wants to put me in a glass jar. Or have my babies. I don’t know which is scarier at this point.” the man replied, scratching his head before shrugging.

BADOOM.

“Ewww. I don’t think she wants your kid bro, that’s disgusting.” The reptile feigned vomiting, puffing his cheeks out before pointing to his tongue.

“I ain’t eager to give them to her either, Olivia.” Frank added, becoming overwhelmed by a sense of dread.

“So what does she want?” Spike questioned curiously, scratching his chin and looking to the table.

“Me.”

“Twilight said she liked the show, but I never thought-“

“Shushshshsh.” Frank interrupted, bringing a finger to his lips. He scanned the room; the library was how it was moments ago, not a book out of place, not a chair gone; nothing had changed.

“What?” whispered the librarian’s assistant.

“Can you hear anything?” the man commented, stepping away from the door. His feet managed to knock over a small pile of books, causing him to jump slightly. He scowled at the offensive book cover titled ‘An herbivore’s guide to avoiding predators.’

“Great, now I got to-” the dragon hopped down and walked up to the man whilst pointing a claw at the man, and once again found himself being interrupted.

“Sshshshssh. SHSHSSHSH.” The man crouched down, coming eyelevel. “Shush, Jane. Can you hear something?”

“My name is Spike! S-P-I-K-E, Spike!” the dragon yelled, his jade eyes narrowing on the man.

The man took no notice of the dragon and continued with “Can you hear anything?”

Sighing, the dragon took a moment to put a claw to where (or so the human assumed) his ear was, and listened intently for any noise.

“NO, there’s nothing there.” Spike stated disgruntledly. The man stood up, scanning the room.

“Exactly.” the man responded morbidly, beginning to slowly ascend the stairs. It wasn’t till half way, whilst being followed by the agitated dragon, that something finally broke the silence.

Tap-tap. The sound of a thin sheet of glass being struck caught the attention of both the mammal and the reptile.

Tap-tap. Both of their eyes widened in horror to the sight past the table.

Between the two colossal bookshelves, above the radiator, were two maroon curtains. The cloth hung ominously, emitting more and more tapping noises. The drake’s heart went into overdrive; he could feel a small build-up of adrenaline course through his veins, as he slowly approached the two long sheets of fabric.

Tap-tap. The rhythmic beat beckoned him closer. The candlelight flickered as Spike faced the source with a mask of curiosity and fear. Frank steadily began climbing the stairs, keeping his back to the wall.

Tap-tap. The dragon skimmed his hand on the table as he passed by, subconsciously looking for somepony to grab onto.

He stood before the window, his claw timidly reaching out. Frank realised what was going to happen, and quickly scuttled to the balcony.

Tap-tap.

Tap-tap.

Taking a deep breathe, the drake mustered enough courage to yank open the curtains. His eye narrowed to the sight.

There, in the darkness…

Was nothing.

“Phew, must have been a bird.” Spike concluded in relief, wiping the sweat off his brow. He blindly spun around, a small smile plastered on his face. However, upon doing so he walked into something.

It was warm, furry, and mint green.

“Hello Spike. Have you seen Frank?” the equine chirped, her eyes shrinking to pin pricks.

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“Huzzah! We have done it. We shall claim the title of ‘The first and only equine to ever capture Shadowman.” cheered Luna, her wings aiding in her descent upon the cornered man. They were both standing beneath scaffolding, a thin beam of lunar light emitting from a lift used to transport supplies to the roof tops. The enclosure was littered with buckets, planks of wood stacked up for the repairs of the tavern the two found themselves behind.

The rapid breathing of the man told her he was exhausted, and slightly disappointed her to not get a better chase out of the man.

Another thing that confused her was why he was shaking his head.

“What? Do you mean, somepony else beat me to it?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. He remained calm, raising both of his hands and stepping forward. He nodded in reply, skirting along the wall. “Oh,” she said disheartened and frowning. “Was it Twilight?” she asked curiously eyeing him up. In response he shrugged, subtly feeling up the wall he clung to.

“The lavender unicorn, bearing a purple star and mane?” she asked, backing up the alleyway. She was anticipating him to make another break for it so she stopped along his intended path. He remained emotionless and only shook his head.

“Then it would surely be Rainbow Dash, her speed cannot be matched. She was the cyan pegasus, her mane resembles that of which her name implies.” the lunar Goddess added, watching him pause briefly. Once again he shook his head, maintaining that blank stare as always behind those shades.

“Pinkie Pie?” That suggestion got a new response: a slow nod, followed by what appeared to be a small shiver. “Well, at least there is some comfort in knowing it took her to catch you, but never the less, I can still say I caught you.” she added, smirking as he continued scooting over.

She paused, investigating his intended path. He was en route to her, but she couldn’t fathom as to why he was appearing to be so timid. As predicted he stepped over the helmets left behind by workers, then he continued onto the small platform that was hoisted up to the roof, but he was too large to fit through the hole. Feet away from her was a bin, with a rather foul smelling bag hanging out of it.

“Wait a minute…” Upon hearing these words, Shadowman cracked a devious grin; a microscopic one, but potent nonetheless. Quicker than Luna could comprehend, he grabbed one of the ropes of the pulley system, slid a blade out, and slashed another cord. She heard the rumble of a stone counter weight, the friction of the rope rubbing as it hoisted the man into the air, and felt the splash of liquid coat her back. She instinctively turned around, relieved to find that it was merely water that coated her wings.

Turning back around, she found the man hanging two stories up. She grinned as he steadily maneuvered himself around one-hundred- and eighty degrees. She wore a vengeful smirk to which he stared blankly back at.

Indeed there would be much more than squeezing to be done.

“Well now that you have had your fun, we can now use this rope to find out if you do indeed squeak. For now however-HEY!” she was halfway through her monologue when he started swinging along the underside of the scaffolding. He made his way along until he reached a platform, to which he climbed up a ladder to access the roof tops. Before disappearing, he caught the attention of the scowling Princess, giving a mocking salute, before departing into the night.

“Fine then, let us play this game.” Luna remarked, smirking devilishly. She rushed out from under the scaffolding, before leaping into the air and letting her wings take over from her hooves. She circled around, landing on top of the thatched flat roof top. She spied Shadowman bounding along the rooftops. She took flight once more, attempting to grasp him in her magic to settle the ordeal. However, she found that it was useless, for some reason she could not grasp him.

It was as if he was not there.

Regardless, she continued racing on with the moon riding high, the night covering all; she was in her element. Born to rule the night, no creature could escape her sight, no creature could elude her grasp, and no creature, not even Celestia, would ever be allowed to make a mockery of her and get away with it.

Meanwhile Shadowman couldn’t help but both feel a sense of pride for baiting her into such a trap, and yet fear the fact he managed to drop a bag of water upon a princess. Still, he wasn’t willing to turn around and apologise at this point.

He decided to follow the road to return to the library, leaping across to other closely packed houses. He would occasionally hear her majesty swoop down, causing him to dodge by either dashing to the side or rolling. A couple of times he found himself hanging off the side, but he quickly recovered and continued to give the irritated alicorn a run for her money.

She was also straining his abilities; he knew she was directing him to a dead end and he knew she was pushing his body to its limits. Perhaps if he had not been running all day, then possibly he could have managed to perform the more advanced tricks required to make such large clearings, alas he had to ignore the purple lizard and leave. Fortunately he spotted another exit.

He paused by a gap separating two houses; the distance was miniature, and exactly what he needed. It was his last chance to make a break for the library. He watched as his pursuer predictably positioned herself far ahead, swooping and bounding around gracefully. The need of his capture put aside, she was a rather eloquent equine; the way she flew and merged with the night, combined with that beautiful starlight mane, was something to be admired. As said before, however, he didn’t have the time.

Luna shot off like a hawk spotting a mouse in the field. Streamlined and focused, she didn’t hesitate to add extra speed by flapping her wings. The man was still, eerily still, but she was overridden by her need to A) Capture the fictional cartoon character and bring him in to be presented to Celestia. B)To find out if when squeezed he squee’d, and finally C) Earn bragging rights amongst her peers for knowing his actual eye colour.

She was less than fifty meters away when he was still standing there, shortly after it was fifteen, by which point Shadowman slipped through the space. He pressed his arms out to slow the descent, keeping his fingers in a claw stance as they tried to dig into the walls. He grunted as the feeling of hammers pounding his fingers blitzed along his hands. He fell to the floor with an unceremonious thud, thankfully landing carefully to avoid breaking his legs.

He wasted no time in picking himself up and charging down the cobblestone road, cradling his battered fingers. Along the way he could only think these thoughts:

Frank is still in trouble,

He still didn’t understand this god forsaken world, and

These ponies are heavy sleepers.

Not that it bothered him, until he realised it was probably so that the world could have its way with him, but he never would have guessed in a million years that a mythical pony would be an end to his life. Still, he didn’t want to brag about it.

Looking ahead, he spied something strange emerging out of the tree house. He cocked his eyebrow slightly, panting and still sprinting towards the library, as the object drastically lowered itself. He spotted the air balloon from before, bouncing along the floor.

Shadowman paused to consider his options; he could both run past it and hope to be able to outrun an ever persistent alicorn or he could hijack it and make a tediously slow getaway. He heard another factor greet him, automatically making the decision for him.

“Shadowman! Where’s your girlfriend?” Frank asked, grinning and clinging to the basket for his life. Alongside him was Spike at the bottom of the basket, a rope binding his claws and feet together.

“Can you untie me now? Lyra isn’t going to catch up, and I could get more heat into the balloon. I can feel the sapphires I had this morning beating the inside of my gut.” The drake had been bound up for interrogation, as the ever looming threat of being tickled to death was becoming apparent. Had it not been for Frank’s intervention, he would have surely peed himself.

Then he would have to clean that up too.

“No can do Lauren, we gotta make a pick up. Besides, the bunsen is buckled, so wherever we’re going we’re hopping there.” Frank replied, extending an arm out to grab his squad mate.

“MY NAME IS SPIKE! SPIKE! NOT ASHLEY, OR SASHA, OR EVEN SUSAN! IT’S SPIKE!” bellowed the angered purple hostage. The man grabbed the other, and even as the basket collided with the stone floor once more, he pulled Shadowman into the woven container. The phantom lay there panting, head resting next to the reptile’s. Frank inspected the horizon, spotting a small problem approaching rapidly.

“Okay let’s keep this short. Margaret, Shadowman, Shadowman, Margaret.” the ponytailed man stated hurriedly, using his hand to point out each individual.

“It’s Spike!” the baby dragon growled into the shades of the worn out man, staring into the reflection of his lenses. “And don’t you forget it.” he added, earning a tired nod from the mute.

“Well it’s nice to know we are getting along ever so nicely, but-” Frank flinched as the basket came to a sudden halt. “Could you tell your lover not to visit you during working hours Shadowman, she isn’t helping.” The man faced to edge of the basket, finding the Lunar Goddess clamping the basket down with her magic.

“Frank… You are here too?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“No, I died long ago, and I can safely say the afterlife is not all its hyped up to be." he replied with his arms crossed, tilting his head to match her own's orientation.

“PRINCESS LUNA! HELP!” The confidence in the man standing diminished as soon as he saw the worried look on her face.

“Was that Spike the dragon, the assistant of Twilight Sparkle?”

“No, it was my stomach.”

“Your stomach knows my name?”

“No…that’s what indigestion sounds like.”

“BLARGH!” Frank took a moment to spin around, and instinctively caught a rolled up scroll in his hand. Looking down he saw a smoke trail lead towards the dragon.

“Care to explain what that was then?”

"That was... this is the product of eating Albert's cooking." Frank stated, looking over his shoulder.

“Hey! That’s for Twilight. Or maybe it’s for Luna.” commented the dragon. Not that Frank cared who the letter was for, inside his brilliant mind, he had formulated a plot. All he needed was a distraction. He swiftly turned around, tidied up his slightly ragged hair before bestowing the Princess with the message.

“Madam.” he added in his best French accent.

He watched as she levitated the scroll out of his hand, his eye twitching as all he knew about physics broke before him. Once she opened the scroll, his neck cracked and he faced the dragon with a large grin. The dragon could only turn to Shadowman, who also gulped with him under the menacing gaze of his team mate.

The mistress of the night inspected the scroll, bringing it close enough to block her view of the basket.

Luna.

I hope this reaches you before you make contact with our new guests. Now I understand you may have only just reached the library my student currently lives at. I must warn you, and ask of you this:

DO NOT OVER REACT AND SCARE OFF THE HUMANS.

It is vital that you keep them calm, and please, I beg you, do not let your inner fan-mare scare off Shadowman or Frank. Yes you did read this correctly, the cast of My Big Human are in Equestria. Prince Albert and Hank are currently with me and the Elements of Harmony, and we are returning to Ponyville from the Element of Generosity’s home.

Remember, stay calm. We have time to celebrate afterwards... and possibly turn them into ponies with that spell I requested. It may seem extreme, but we have to think how the public will react to the humans. Besides, I would love to see Prince Albert as an alicorn, but will have to settle for an earth pony to avoid further suspicion. I shall see if I can, say, edit them to our liking.

I know you want to see Shadowman as a pegasus; My student and Rainbow Dash have confided to me that they wish to see Hank as an earth pony and Frank as a unicorn.

From your loving sister

Celestia.

P.S Do not let them out of your sight.

The recipient mentally facehooved, sighing as she realised that what she had done was exactly the opposite of what her sister wanted.

Well at least we have caught them- she was mentally going to congratulate herself, comparing how she caught not just one human, but two compared to Pinkie Pie’s measly one. However, a sudden yelp caught her attention as she dropped the parchment.

She spotted Shadowman standing up, resting against the side of the basket, his coat battered and slightly torn. She also spotted Frank standing tall, pointing something towards the base of the air balloon.

“NO, pulling my tail won’t get the right-Blargh!” Spike screeched, before burping up a large jet of green flame. The flame encased the entire balloon, shortly following the individuals inside. Luna watched in horror as the occupants of the hot air balloon, and the mode of transport itself, disappeared into a grass toned puff of smoke. The jade wisp flew over her head. She watched the trail disappear, before she heard the galloping of hooves behinds her.

“NOOOOOO!” screeched a small mint unicorn, going to her knees and stomping on the floor. “You Maniac! You blew it up! Ah, damn you Frank! Celestia damn you to Tartarus!” she screamed, waving a hoof in the air.

“WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP?!” Both Luna and Lyra turned to face the source of the voice to find a green pegasus, with a sleeping mask over his eyes, leaning his head out of a second story window. He abruptly closed the window, slamming it shut to emphasise his mood.

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Down the road from the library, a strange cluster of creatures walked towards the same destination. Two members of royalty, not related by blood nor species, strolled side by side. The Prince had been the focal point of both of the only white equines, whilst one was beautiful unicorn, the other was the ruler of the sun, a mighty alicorn. Not that that persuaded who he would talk to, he wasn’t much for preferring one person to another, he saw no reason to in this case. By the fashionista’s side was another strange trio. A lavender horned pony, a titan of a human, and a floating cyan speedster. At the back of the pack, three regular inhabitants of the land cautiously eyed the bipeds.

One was an apple farmer, constantly glancing over between the two strangers. Another was a timid butter pegasus, her eyes slowly getting heavier and heavier due to exhaustion. She was a startling contrast to bouncy cotton candy ball by her side.

“So, Prince Albert, it has dawned upon me that you do not have any place to stay, do you not?” Rarity asked, walking close to the human. He already knew the answer; the ship would be long under water by now and the trials of surviving a partially hostile village, combined with the late hour, were starting to take their toll.“

You are correct lady Rarity, we do not have a place to stay.” he admitted, before turning to face her. “I don’t suppose you would now anywhere for four humans to stay where they will be safe, would you?” he asked, resting his hand on his shoulder before making circles with his shoulder. Rarity’s eye sparkled slightly at the prospect of temporally housing a Prince under her roof.

Seeing this, the solar Diarch stepped in gracefully.

“Actually, the four of you would be welcome to mine and my sister’s castle. You can each have your own suite.” Celestia interjected, gaining the focus of the Prince. She gave small smile, her magenta eye looking into his.

“That does sound tempting; it would suit the needs of each one of us. Plus it would be wonderful if you wouldn’t mind telling me about your civilization, despite first impressions,” he said looking away from both, briskly walking to gain the lead. He turned around, and cracked a large merry smile. “I would be more than happy to give this wonderful land another chance.”

We can talk… and drink, oh Celestia stop. This is an incredible circumstance, I suppose it won’t hurt to take advantage of it. Wait till Luna finds out I’ve spent time with Prince Albert; I’m sure she’ll sulk, socks and all, at the news. Now, now, it may be fun and games for now, but I will have to work on getting them home. How unfortunate. she mused, letting her smile grow slightly.

“Oh, but if you would like another tour of the town without being bothered, surely you can stay here for a spell?”

What? Celestia’s recollection of her fan fiction burst like a popped bubble upon hearing the fashionista’s voice.

“I wouldn’t mind being able to walk around without being ambushed. This does seem like a wonderful society, and this, from my brief experience mind you, does have a lovely rural quality to it. I often did enjoy the countryside; there is so much adventure away from the hustle and bustle of the capital However, there will still be the matter of finding a place to stay.” He stated, pondering over his options.

“Oh, but I am sure my friends and I will find room for you, somewhere.” Rarity finished sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

Please, please, please, pleeeaase! I must dress a Prince! the unicorn begged mentally, maintaining that warm smile. And let him ‘chat’ with me a bit more of course.

“If that’s the case then-“

“Possibly, but if they come to Canterlot I can show them around the capital. With me being present, nopony would bother them.” Celestia remarked, her natural smile quickly becoming a strained false one. “Thank you for your offer Rarity, truly living up to your Element, but I believe he would prefer a larger accommodation for him and his friends. Wouldn’t you agree, Prince Albert?”

“Well, that is preferable, but we have slept in worse conditions and-“

“Oh, but with the Elements of Harmony by his side, surely he would be welcomed to the rest of this town, and within a week the whole human hunter ordeal will be a thing of the past. Besides, I’m sure the lovely gentlecolt would like some new attire.” Rarity added, tapping his torn jeans, She rested a hoof on the base of his shin, inspecting the fabric and the damage done.

“My sister and I will make sure that they receive a new wardrobe, courtesy of being so understanding. We can hire the finest tailors of Canterlot to make them dozens of outfits before a day is done.”

“Ladies, there’s really no need for this…” was the last thing Hank heard before tuning out. His mind drifted back to his current path, partly on the pavement, and sometimes stepping off when the pegasus had to float past.

“I hate it when he gets himself into these sort of things. Ever seen three duchesses drool over a single stallion?” Hank asked, switching glances between purple mare and the winged equine.

“Err…no, bout you, Twi?” Rainbow asked, turning over to fly the right side up.

“Well, I didn’t know at the time, I was just a little filly, but sometimes I heard a couple of mares talk funny to Lord Skip. Then there was the time I thought he was sucking the face off another mare, whilst lying on top of her.” She blushed, flustered with embarrassment, when both Hank and Rainbow Dash burst into a fit of laughter. “It’s not funny! I ran straight to Celestia, screaming that he was a monster.”

“Oh man, Twi that is good. You do know what it means now, right? Hehehe.” the speed demon snorted, nudging the librarian.

“OF COURSE I DO! I’ve read enough romance novels thank you very much.” The Element of magic huffed, pointing her snout to the moon. “Even if it was only the one romance novel, the mechanics are pretty clear.” she continued, preparing her lecture mode.

“Kid, you don’t have to tell me how to play tonsil tennis with another woman.” Hank remarked, smirking slightly.

“Oh, you thought I was going to- Oh that would be silly.” she stated, not only hoping to convince them but herself also. Hank gave a sceptic look, before turning away with a sly grin.

“You remind me of Frank. Before his first, he was a bloody hermit, now he still kind of is, but at least he can talk women and leave that stupid lab of his more often.” The grin on his lips grew wider whilst he recalled locking his brother out of his room when he was four. Unfortunately they shared rooms, meaning that Frank’s experiment escaped.

Hank, to this day, doesn’t even know what on god’s green earth it was… but it chased and ate the dog, then one of the walls, then the fridge, then itself. It was the most amazing thing he ever saw in his entire life.

“His first kiss?” Twilight asked innocently, earning a facehoof from the azure pony.

“Yeah, let’s go with that.” the behemoth chuckled to himself.

Walking at the back of the herd, watching both groups of three debate various things, Applejack thought it would be best to stick with those she was certain didn’t know anything about the show.

“Hey, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie?” the farmer whispered, earning the attention of the mares by her sides. She checked to make sure both the party pink pony and the soft daffodil pegasus were leaning in before she continued. “Alright, ah’m sure you two know these guys ain’t real, right?”

“Oh but AJ, look-”

“Pinkie Pie! Keep your voice down, I don’t want them hearing us.” the cowpony hissed, silencing the mare.

“But why Applejack? If…um… you don’t mind me asking.” gingerly asked the timid pegasus. She retreated slightly under her mane, watching as the apricot pony’s jade pools met her own teal eyes.

“Look, I know what these critters can do, and it ain’t pretty.” she admitted, maintaining the hushed tone. “They can do something fierce to a pony if they wanted to, especially that big guy.” She nodded towards Hank’s direction, and soon the three mares found themselves watching Hank narrate something with his hands and that spoon of his.

“Hank? He doesn’t seem so bad; Rainbow likes him and so does Twilight, but she prefers Frank.” Pinkie Pie pointed out.

“So far, and of course they’ll stick up for ‘em because they’re their favourite cartoon characters, doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a bad side. And furthermore, what about that other fella, Shadow-thingy?” Applejack continued, rolling her hoof to find that foreign word.

“Shadowman.” Fluttershy added, timidly mind you. “He is actually really nice and said sorry for scaring me, sort of.” she finished with a mumble.

“What do yer mean sort of?”

“Well, you know he doesn’t like to talk, but I’m sure he was sorry.” Fluttershy added, inspecting the ground she was treading on.

“Fluttershy, you got be mighty careful of that one too. They’re the heavy hitters; he has these swords that can cut through-“

“WOOHOOOHOooooooah.” Pinkie spluttered, her body standing on its front hooves, her tail wriggling and snout twitching. Upon landing back the hoof stand, she earned the immediate attention of everypony and human in close vicinity.

“Was she raised by a circus?” Hank commented, mind numbed by the past antics the mare had already performed. It had only just dawned upon him that this might actually be happening.

“No, she was actually raised on a rock farm.” Rainbow added, floating backwards.

“She has this ability, ever since she was little, she can sense things.” Twilight contributed, sighing under his sceptical glance. “Like objects falling or doors opening,” she added, frowning at how ridiculous she must have sounded. “And she is never wrong.”

She stopped and turned around moments after Albert, Rarity, and Celestia also did, to face the pink mare.

“Must have been good ‘rocks’, I can see why she’d want out if this is what was happening to her.” Hank muttered under his breath.

“What is it Pinkie Pie? Are the other fellas doing okay?” Applejack asked, stepping beside Pinkie Pie. The mare responded by giving a concerned glance to everypony, before saying letting a frown form on her brow.

“Somepony stole my balloon!” she screeched, hopping up around, before landing before Albert.

“It was Mr Grumpy Pants wasn’t it?” she barked, stretching her neck to come eye level. “Wasn’t it!?” Albert raised his hands defensively, watching as Rarity came to his defence.

“Pinkie dear, perhaps you are overreacting a tad. Maybe Shadowman required it to find his lost friend, wasn’t that what you did to find Shadowman in the first place?” the seamstress inserted, causing Pinkie to ponder in recollection of today’s earlier events.

“Huh, guess you’re right, but still it’s not very nice to borrow somepony’s hot air balloon- hey is that Lyra?” she asked, pointing a hoof towards the library. Spinning around, the group each faced the direction the pink limb was pointed at.

True they spotted a pony, true it was aqua toned, but whether or not it was a Lyra was yet to be seen, as she quickly race out of sight.

“What was she doing in my library? It was supposed to be closed three hours ago.” the librarian queried, switching her focus to the unlocked tree house. The flickering glow of candle light crept out of the door and a thin beam of light passed through the curtains, highlighting the chipped curb.

“What about that lizard boy of yours? I thought he lived there?” Hank added, glancing down at the purple mare. Before she could answer, there was another outburst from Pinkie Pie in the form of gasp.

And craning her neck around Hank’s whilst clinging to his back.

“Maybe Spike took the balloon! I did say he could ride it! Oh, I forgot to tell him to tell me when he wanted to borrow it.” the mare chirped, cheek to cheek to the man. He turned to face her, deadpanning whilst she grinned.

“Will you stop going on about the stupid balloon,” he snarled, reaching behind to grab her by the scruff of her neck. His frown deepened as he said “What exactly do you want us to do? I can’t snap my fingers and have it magically appear.” Upon announcing that, using his free hand, he clicked his fingers.

There was a flash of green light, an eruption of malachite flames, and tendrils of dirty olive green smoke. The inferno shot up, lasting mere seconds, before in its place stood tall a massive hot air balloon. It was battered and charred, Pink and marked with three party balloons. Stunned was not the apt word to describe Hank’s mood at the moment. He was both terrified and in awe, the kind of mood you can only imagine a super hero goes through upon discovering his true potential.

Maybe there is something to the magic we have, I guess Frank was right…Fuck yeah. he mused, staring at his hand. Everypony was gawking at him, before turning their focus to the shuffling in the basket case. Hank was remembering his solemn vow, his oath to use any powers he gained for the greater good. Of course that was when he thought the oath would be to only have power over a few royal guards back home.

Using his morals to guide him, he continued hoisting the pink menace up and held her out like a lantern. Bringing up his fingers of doom, he snapped his fingers at her and waited the results. Disappointed to not see his arch nemesis in flames, he repeated the action in a futile effort to incinerate the demonic pony. He sighed, his life as a super hero flashing before his eyes.

“Where did this come from?” Albert asked, stepping forward to inspect the craft. The two mares by his side joined him, shortly followed by the rest of the group.

“Let’s never speak of what we saw ever again.” A voice groaned. Moments later two hands were seen clinging to the edge of the basket. They all witnessed a man rise groggily; the tail of his ponytail was slightly alight. “Ever.” he finished, his head drooping.

“Frank?” his elder brother asked, dropping Pinkie Pie on her haunches.

“Hank? Oh God, what did they do to you?” Frank remarked, pulling a smouldering phantom to his feet. Shadowman rolled his shoulders before patting out the flames on his arms. The pure look of horror on his face chilled the elder to the bone.

“Nothing, why?” Hank responded instantly, quickly studying his own body.

“Oh… I’ve only just realised you were always that ugly.” the younger remarked, smirking whilst pulling out his half-finished cigar. He heard a few a few giggles as he used his lit hair to relight the cigar; looking up he spotted the lavender one holding a hoof to her mouth as she chuckled, resulting in his grin to grow briefly before he took a drag.

“Hey, can anypony give a hoof here?” a younger voice cried out. Shadowman turned around, bent over, and plucked the dragon up. “Thanks, can you untie me now?” Complying, the man unbound the robe and watched the dragon hop out of the basket.

“Where did this come from? Spike what happened?” a bamboozled Twilight asked, gesturing to the balloon.

“Spike, did you send this to me? Sending live creatures and objects of this size is extremely dangerous-” Celestia interjected, stepping forward and switching to her default motherly tone. The solar goddess paused upon seeing Frank raise his hand.

“In his defence, it was me, and we were desperate. I recalled him burning that letter, which apparently arrived to you, resulting in you arriving. I figured that a princess is better than whoever was chasing me.” Frank responded, stepping between Celestia and the dragon. “And Shadowman’s been flirting again; he’s managed to get an alicorn to chase him. It’s the ballroom fiasco all over again.” he continued, switching to Albert.

Behind him, he could have sworn he heard Shadowman shiver slightly.

“Another alicorn? Princess, does that mean Princess Luna is here?” Rainbow asked, hovering by near the balloon. Celestia’s response was for her sigh before bringing a hoof to her temple. She nodded in response, mild irritation stamped on her face.

“Princess? Well that’s a new one.” Hank turned to Shadowman, now leaning over into the basket. The phantom was steadying his breathing, but managed to get a quick glance at the giant. “That’s a high score,” he chuckled. “Not even you got a Princess, Albert.”

“Aye, but I’m always hoping.” The Prince gave a mocking frown as he gazed upon Shadowman. “Maybe you can teach me your ways, Shadow?” The man in the charred trench coat’s response was to raise his hand and stick his thumb up.

“Well that’s fine and dandy, the fact that you’re putting yourself on the market, but can we please just sit down inside. I’ve had a long day.” said Frank, chucking the stub of the cigar to the curb before using his foot to smother it. “I’m not much for becoming a handsome ice pop.”

“Yes, Twilight, take the others to the library and make sure they remain there until I return.” The Princess asked, walking past the balloon. She smiled at Twilight as she stood by Frank. “I would prefer my sister to be present whilst we plan our next move.”

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“Shadowman? Shadowman? Where art thou, Shadowman?” The Mistress of the night had been searching valiantly for her favourite human; she was currently checking the alley behind sugar cube corner. It was not because her fan-mare side wished to seek out any truth about the fandom, to the contrary, it was simply because it was her royal duty to protect Equestria and she realised that these humans were a danger. Although they have not shown signs of aggression, it would only take contact with a hater to set them off.

“Over here dear sister, we have much to discuss.” the night goddess heard behind her. The minor irritation did well to cover the small fragment of pride hidden in her voice, however with both of them being sisters the younger picked up on it easily.

“Greetings Tia, we thought you might.” Luna slowly turned around, careful to avoid the waterlogged grid by her side. Close to entrance was her dove white counterpart; the moonlight bounced off of her golden regalia as she moved further down the side passage bearing a small scowl.

“Now, Luna, could you explain to me what part of ‘please control yourself, you did not understand?” the eldest remarked, stopping feet away from her sibling.

“The part where you failed to inform me the nature of the crisis, particularly where it involves the cast of My Big Human.” snapped Luna, returning a glare of her own. “Perhaps if you had told me Shadowman was in Equestria, then maybe I could have been more prepared.” she continued, inspecting her jewelled horseshoes. Upon seeing a slight speck of dirt, the Princess dipped the stain into the puddle. “I… am not in the wrong here Tia. I almost managed to gain their trust before they fled. I chased Shadowman all over Ponyville.” The solar Diarch’s gaze softened the moment her younger sister sighed deeply.

“And yet he eluded my grasp. True, maybe I did react like a foal on Heart warming eve when I should have been more serious about the situation, but I did have Equestria’s and the human’s own interest at heart. Could you imagine what would happen if the public found out without our supervision? They might as well be fed to a pack of manticores.” Luna commented, slowly making her way back to the main road. Her sister followed in her hoofsteps shortly after.

“Yes… I agree.” Celestia responded, grimacing slightly at the recollection of Hank’s experience. The sound of shoes landing upon the cobble stone echoed down the street.

“I do hope he is okay, and Frank also-” Luna was about to finish her sentence when Celestia rested a hoof on her shoulder, smiling as the midnight blue alicorn faced her.

“There is no need to fret; we have found them, and are waiting for your arrival in the library. Prince Albert has also agreed to something we both may enjoy together.” the eldest reassured, earning a cocked eyebrow from the younger. After a brief pause, followed by a small chuckle, Celestia explained the situation.

“Nothing like that Luna, like I would ask for you to ‘help’ with that.” A faint tint of sanguine appeared across Luna’s cheeks as she realised her misinterpretation. “No, I have managed to get him to agree to let him and Shadowman accompany us to the castle. Despite Rarity’s numerous attempts to sway him to take up residence with her.” she finished, frowning slightly at the floor.

“Oh, afraid of a little competition Tia?” Luna grinned, before theatrically placing a hoof on her forehead. “Are you prepared to fight for the one you love? After all, all is fair in love and war.” The deathly glare from her sister only resulted in the suppressed laughter of the mare.

“I do not love him, Luna. I am merely wanting to gain the responsibility of my favourite character.” she retorted, before lifting her snout to the sky and with a harrumph.

“So tell me, do you want a relationship like ‘My little shadow’ or ‘The Prince and I’?” The grin on her lips grew wider as her sister blushed ever so slightly. “Or maybe you’d prefer something along the lines of ‘Prince of Penetra’-”

“NO!” gasped Celestia, glaring daggers into the younger. “Don’t even bring up that foul combination of words. That…abomination is exactly why Bronies, especially humares given the contents of the story, are frowned upon.” She burned a stare into her sister’s memory, making her forge a silent promise to never mention that fapper-fic ever again.

“Fine… I wouldn’t even expect you to even kiss him.” Her face shifted, further increasing the height of the eyebrow and dropping the smirk she once wore when the ruler of the sun gave a grin of her own.

“What?” queried Luna.

“I didn’t have to.” Celestia replied in a quiet sing song voice, raising one of her hooves.

“Wait you mean, he…” Luna tilted her head slightly, as a sign to egg her sister on further.

“Not to the extreme, but he did give me…” She trailed off, leaving her sister in suspense.

Pause for dramatic effect; oh look she is practically dying to know.

She remained quiet, listening to her sister beg for her to tell her what she had been given. She merrily made her way down the road, the tree house coming into view as the indigo mare pouted and sulked.

“The royal welcome.” she finally admitted, resulting in her sister’s maw dropping to the floor.

“No.” Luna finally stated, her jaw forming into a shape of a smile.

“On this very hoof.” The divine held out her hoof, inches away from the face of the Mistress of the night. “Everypony got one, well except Applejack and Rainbow Dash, but he did it to me for the longest.” she added, watching her sister’s smile fall straight off.

“So what did you get out of Shadowman? Oh that’s right, Lulu wouldn’t get anything as extraordinary as ‘The royal welcome’. Hence proving Albert is the better human.” She concluded, watching her sister seeth. She restrained a titter as she watched her sister march ahead, her head held high.

“Where are you going, sister? Are you going to try and get him to sing as all of you Shadow fans claims he does?” sniped Celestia, following her sister.

“That’s true and you know it! He is the reason for the majority of the songs in each season.” Luna replied confidently, refusing to look back. They maintained a constant distance as they headed down the final hundred meters.

“Just because he is not on screen, does not mean it is him singing. If I recall correctly, he is mute.”

“When the humans searched the castle for the mysterious voice, they found no traces of its source and also they could never find Shadowman.”

“I believe you’re getting confused between canon and fanon; you’ve must have been reading too much fan-fiction.”

“Hank couldn’t find Dopey either in season four, but he was still delivering mail and muffins. Face it, it just wasn't his episode, and they used him to sing!” Luna remarked, locating the saddlebag that had been left on the street. She didn't need to turn around to know how her sister must have felt about leaving spells, capable of turning dirt into gold and fire into water, in the middle of the road. So she did what any other sister would.

She scuttled away pretending it never happened, alas the elder had already seen her crime.

Author's Notes:

Ladies and Gentlemen, and Pinkie Pie, could you give credit to my proof readers: dialgex and Recovery 565

As for now, I would like to ask something form you. No not you, yes you. You should know by now that Fanfiction may be an important part of the brony community. Same applies in my story. So if you feel you have a good My Big Human: Friendship is Expendable story I can use in the later chapters then let me know. Also, could you tell me which pony might have written it and what it is about. I cannot promise it will make an appearance but I will consider all that are posted.

Until next time.

Chapter 7: It rubs the lotion on its skin...

In a refurbished office building, situated in the northern side of a wet and dreary Fillydelphia, was a lone stallion working. White walls and posters belonging to the company he worked for surrounded him as he furiously clicked a pony ergonomic mouse.

“No, no no no. Where the blast are they?” Thunder Tone bellowed, slapping a full mug of coffee off his computer desk. The handle shattered and a crack slithered along the logo ‘My Big Human: Friendship is Expendable.’

“It’s just impossible.” His anger morphed into blind panic as he searched for another episode hidden in the files. “They’re…just gone!” he added, preparing to tear out his gold mane. The drizzle of the rain blurred the windows before him, but Luna’s moon managed to distinguish itself in a white haze.

“What’s the matter Thunder? Somepony stole your sweet roll?” a feminine voice asked.

He spun around, eyeing up the new entity. She was grass green and wore an emerald mane,
glistening as it framed her petite face. He wouldn’t admit it, ever, but the earth pony couldn’t resist staring into her jade eyes. On any other normal day that is.

“Actually, yeah! I left it in my secret hiding spot behind-“

“You mean your drawer?”

“No, not that one.”

“The back of your monitor?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

The mare dropped her smug smile and shifted her eyes around. Biting her lip and pawning at the floor, she avoided eye contact as soon as his grey coat started turning red.

“Sorry,” she squeaked, looking him in the eyes. His cheeks were slowly turning into tomatoes. “But you make the best rolls and muffins, and have the nicest buns.” It was her turn to turn red as he cocked an eyebrow and cooled off. “Err, I mean like your cousin, Ditzy, she makes good muffins too. Not to say your buns are bad, I could bite into them all day.” She only managed to further increase her fluster. “I mean-“

“Let’s drop it, we have bigger problems than my buns.” he remarked, turning away to hide his face. He was in a mixture of pride and embarrassment; she may have noticed his gym routine finally paying off, or he could just be hearing what he wanted to hear.

“Like what?” she asked, stepping closer to the screen.

He couldn’t tell her just yet, he had to show her. He beckoned her closer, to which they both wound up sharing the seat. He clicked play on an episode, after entering the mandatory password Haspony had installed in light of recent events.

Somepony had been leaking information about each series for the past five years, and this was just the oldest method of securing their work. It might as well not be there.

They both sat and watched all twenty five episodes, each one injecting fear into the pair.

“Where the Tartarus are they? I thought we finished these episodes today! Titan Strong just finished recording for Frank! I saw them overlay the audio with the video; why are the characters missing!?” she screeched, pacing the floor.

“Look, Emerald, we gotta tell the artists.”

“And tell them what? The humans just walked out of season six?”
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“And that’s why I have a newfound respect for the letters I send to Princess Celestia.” Spike proclaimed, earning a sagely nod from both Shadowman and Frank. The rest of the group, with the exception of the two princesses who were having a ‘chat’ in the kitchen, looked back in amazement.

“I believe I speak for Shadowman when I say he couldn’t have said it better himself.” Frank remarked. The darkened figure continued nodding, still bearing a blank mask. Besides him was Fluttershy and on his other side were two vacant seats.

“Really? Wow. I didn’t know that that’s what happens when you send a letter, Spike.” Twilight added, before scratching her chin. “I gotta write that down; did the green tunnel of fire come before or after the mountains of crystal? And was the giant mailbox at the end also?”

The group had been trying to understand a majority of the tale, including those who travelled the magical route. Around the table, those who attempted contemplate the trip were seen to be leaning in, mainly consisting of Rarity, Applejack, and until recently Rainbow Dash. Prince Albert and Hank had no say in the matter, although Hank mimed a smoking cannabis notion.

“Ah never thought those letters you send go through so much bother, Twi. Sounds a bit intense with the giant, blue tentacles and such.” Applejack commented, switching her focus to the lavender unicorn by her side.

“Yes, rather dangerous for simply delivering mail, even if it to a princess.” Rarity added using a hoof to flick her hair to make sure the princess got her good side.

“I know; I knew they were sent by magic but I thought it operated on the same principle as a teleportation spell and-”

“If getting teleported means being incinerated, going on a trip that could make a junkie jealous, as well as having my mouth taste like ash, then I want nothing more to do with it.” Frank pointed out, crossing his arms. “I can barely manage to keep my sanity in check just sitting here and talking to you lot.” he added, gesturing to the group with one hand.

“It’s perfectly understandable,” Twilight said, earning an arched eyebrow from the man. “You all know by now that you’re meant to be mythological, not to mention impossible.”

“I believe you should say improbable given that we are here, and thus are possible. It is us that should be confused about your being.” Albert interjected, raising a finger.

“Wouldn’t that just be a lack of communication of both our halves, ever since we apparently first met? Should we not treat this as simply being the first contact between our two races in eons?” Twilight added, hoping not to reveal that their race created the humans. If she could play the ‘our species met at one time’ card, she may have a shot at keeping the peace.

“Or rather that yours, supposedly, had been watching ours.” Frank returned, a frown forming on his brow. The rest of the humans looked caught onto his trail of thought, and began studying the mares with suspicion.

“Yeah, why do most of the ponies know about me, the Prince, and Splinter?” Hank asked, glaring at the Pink pony next to him. She returned her own menacing stare, before using her hooves to push his cheeks up into an artificial smile.

A creepily, unnatural smile.

“Knock it off!” With all his restrained fury, he gently grasped her hooves and lowered them from his face, keeping a twitching eye on her.

“Wow, you really are the brother of Mr grumpy.”

“Still in the room.” Frank added, raising a finger.

“You’re almost as moody as him,” Pinkie pie commented, ignoring the ponytailed man.

“Once again, still in the room.”

“But he’s just the smart arse computer guy that sits there smoking cigars all day; I do most of the heavy lifting.”

“Hank looks like a mountain gave birth to a rhino.”

“There’s no reason to be so grumpy! You just gotta smile.”

“Hank smiled once. He wound up scaring the afterlife out of the ghosts.”

“I’m not exactly in the smiling mood.”

“Hank’s biceps are so big, he once jumped in the air and got stuck.”

“You don’t need to be in a mood to smile.”

“Enough.” interjected his majesty, placing both of his hands flat on the table. He leant forward, as if trying to block out the ponies. The humans leaned in, ignoring the bewildered looks of those around them.

“From what I can tell, they have access to our past and seemed to see it as a form of entertainment. Especially our darkest times.” He scowled the center of the table at the recollection of the one called Scootaloo had said, but more importantly how she said it.

“I think I know how they do it.” Frank remarked, earning a panicked look from Twilight. Those fully aware of bronies and the show consisted of Rarity, Applejack, Twilight, and Rainbow Dash; Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy were the only two to still be clueless about the show and its nature.

The humares, plus the farmer and the seamstress, gave a worried look as Frank opened his mouth. It was then that the voices of the kitchen caught their attention that he stopped.

“You are so infuriating!”

“If you cannot look after one of the most restricted and most powerful tomes in the private library, then I will not allow you to have your television!”

“You monster!”

The small committee paused and faced the kitchen. There, wearing a surprisingly merry smile, was Celestia. Whilst everyone subtly glanced at each other, Hank frowned given the context of the smile. She was pissed and was wearing a false smile reserved for obscuring her true emotions, he noted.

She’s been giving me that same look all day. Sly cow.

“Little sister giving you trouble?” Hank asked, arching an eyebrow. Before she could answer he turned to face his sibling with grin and said, “I know what that’s like.”

Frank rolled his eyes before blowing a childish raspberry at the man. At this point Luna walked with glint of contempt in her eye. She continued glaring daggers in the back of her sister’s head until she walked into her line of sight and refocused on the group of mortals.

During her brooding, where her own thoughts were nothing more than immature references to her sister’s head matching the size of her flank, she managed to walk to one of the vacant seats.

Right next to Shadowman.

The pair made eye to shade contact, a small hint of shame tying a knot in Luna’s throat. He reminisced about the number of times she nearly threw him off the rooftops, the total minutes spent playing cat and mouse at different altitudes, and concluded on one action. With a blank look, he pulled out the chair.

If he was ever going to give his respect to anyone, or pony, who could catch him it wouldn’t be a pink demon but a dark goddess. Not that he was still pleased with her actions; he would happily prefer to never see the mare again, but his mother taught him better. The gesture confused Luna slightly, as she phased out the spat between the brothers; he still gave that calm expression.

“You do not mind me sitting beside you? After we chased thou across the rooftops?” His response was not only to ignore the kerfuffle besides him, but also to slowly outreach a hand and gently pat the seat.

Luna gave a small smile as he turned away, happy to sit next to her favourite, silent hero. She switched over when the small sound of gurgling became the focus of everypony’s, and every human used to the display, focus point.

Hank held his brother in a vicious head lock, Frank squirming like a child being held over a cliff face. The height advantage of his elder somehow always made itself apparent whenever he wanted to get his own way.

“Take it back.” Hank said smugly, catching glimpses of Applejack’s, Twilight’s, and Rarity’s scowls.

“Never...You fat headed oaf!” Frank replied rebelliously.

“Hank.” Albert sounded off warningly, inspecting the bruise on the back of his hand; the routine nature of this event often left him time to give himself a once over. Not out of vanity but before and after a meeting, or even a skirmish, he chose to inspect his health. This bruise caught his attention briefly, given that he had missed it after awakening, but he quickly lost interest and turned to face the titan and his prey.

“Put him down, you don’t know what he’s been experimenting on.” As soon as the key phrase was announced, the slender man found his backside once again hitting the floor hard. The two returned to their seats, Twilight asking if he needed attention for his ‘injury’ to which point Frank replied with a vague gesture to how this world could kiss his arse.

“Now, Princess Celestia,” The Prince continued, earning the pleasant focus of the alicorn.

“Could you please?”

“Certainly, and please call me Celestia.” Celestia didn't sit down, but instead made her horn glow with a signature golden hue. A tanned book, slightly obscured by a yellow ethereal aura, revealed itself to the group. It landed delicately on the table in front of the empty seat Luna sat next to.

“Not to be ungrateful, but shouldn't we be entitled to free cookies and milk during story time. I get cranky if I don’t have my milk before nap time.” Frank remarked, earning a deathly stare from Twilight and Albert. Hank suppressed a chuckle as a majority of the eyes attempted to shoot lasers at his younger brother.

Soon enough, with the occasional interruption of a sceptical Hank and Frank, Celestia explained the purpose of the book. Much to the group’s amazement, the spells went beyond transforming ponies. So much so, that the reason it is archived in the restricted section was because its last use conjured up the Crystal Mountains out of mere hills.

There was a great debate on the matter at hand; should they be turned into ponies? Of course, it was met with resistance. Even Shadowman ‘voiced’ his displeasure by shaking his head when he was asked if he wanted wings.

As for as he was concerned, he wanted to remain rooted to the ground; he had enough air travel, rooftop hopping, and travel via flying, burning, dimension shifting, letters to last him a lifetime…Or two.

Never the less; with the die-hard humares subtly, or not in Rainbow Dash’s case, and Rarity and Pinkie eagerly, convincing them to alter their DNA, both with completely different pursuits in mind, the humans eventually wound up considering it. After asking for a moment alone the humans departed for the kitchen.

Between the fridge where Hank leant against, and the stove where Shadowman watched the equines, those willing to speak debated the matter.

“I will not lie, they are rather reasonable.” Albert put forward with gesture from his hand.

“I’m not becoming a horse,” Hank quickly sniped whilst crossing his arms across his vest.

“Ponies actually,” his younger sibling remarked, patting himself down for more cigars. Finding he had only one left, he chose to save it for later by moving it from his left upper ‘cigar lighter’ pocket to his ‘cigar storage’, right chest pocket. “As much as it pains me to say this, your cyan friend has made her point pretty clear.”

“Acquaintance. I still don’t trust them; what if they need us in pony form to have their way with us?” the behemoth replied, recalling how the indigo alicorn supposedly couldn't catch Shadowman with her magic.

If humans are immune, and ponies aren’t, won’t that make us easier prey?

“I don’t think we need to fear any form of hostility as a pony,” Albert added, looking back at Shadowman. “But as humans we seem to attract a lot of unwanted attention. I believe there are other equines who may not wish to harm us, although I believe you know, Hank, that they can be borderline psychotic.”

“You have no idea,” Frank muttered to himself, before speaking up. “I think I can help shed some light on the subject.”

“Oh?” Hank said, arching an eyebrow.

“During my disappearance, when I was exposed to the elements and with my back against the wall, I encountered a…strange white, horned pony.”

“You mean unicorn?” Albert corrected, his eyebrow arching in curiosity as to why their smartest member did not pick up on it.

“That would imply that they were in fact real, in turn, giving further ‘evidence’ to the claim that magic exists,” he responded quickly, massaging the bridge of his nose.

“Moving on,” he said loudly. “Along the way back to her humble abode-“

“HA!”

“I’m glad you see the funny side, Hank. Anyway, the time I spent in her and her friend’s company-“

“Wow, a threesome.”

“I managed to forget your writhing session with the stallions who were after your wood, so shut it!” Frank chided, pointing an accusatory finger at his smiling elder.

“Hank, let him speak.”

“Thank you, Albert.” Frank leant back against the side, his arm picking up whatever fruit was in a bowl behind him.

“You see, the girls pointed out that we were meant to be cartoons; as in fictional, animated, scripted, characters. They seemed to be up to date with my previous actions, including those that I had long forgotten.” He took a small bite out of an apple and instantly fell in love with its taste.

“Aye; a small orange pegasus-“

“Winged equine.” Frank ‘corrected’ with his mouth full of Red Deliciousness.

“Pegasus, knew about… my father.” Instantly his comrade’s heads spun to face his dreary expression. It was a tough battle, and the cost was still etched across his thigh where he received a final gash from the beast.

“Why would they possibly want to watch us?” Hank asked, resting a hand on his leader’s shoulder. It was a sign of saying ‘it’s time to put the past behind you.’

“Yes, it seemed similar to that craze where grown men watched those talking mice go through their daily lives. What was that show called again? Ah, ‘Your little rats: Infestation is fantastic?’”

“It wasn’t called that… although it did lead to a sudden demand in rainbow coloured mice.” Albert admitted, brushing his friend’s arm of with a grateful nod.

“Pahtato, patahto,” Frank said, waving the hand clutching half an apple around dismissively. “Anyway, I think we can use this spell to our advantage. We will not only be disguised as the local population, but I may well find a way to confirm our suspicions and to what extent they know about us.”

“How?”

“Remember when I said I met a few new friends?” A small smile formed on both Albert’s and Frank’s lips, contrasting the large frown on Hank’s face. “I’m sure I can get them to let us watch a few episodes, as it were.”

“No.”

“Oh for… Why not?”

“I. Do. Not. Want. To. Be. A . PONY!” the giant emphasised by jabbing his younger brother. “I’m good being human.”

“Then you can remain cooped in here.” Albert replied, folding his arms.

“It’s cosy.”

“The librarian will quiz you; I probably will never teach a student as inquisitive as her.”

“I’ve put up with it long enough.”

“Pinkie Pie will know where you are, and you can’t leave.” Albert’s response initiated a subtle chain reaction; firstly Hank’s eyes widened in horror then his jaw lowered slightly before sealing itself shut. It remained shut after he had one last thing to say:

“I’m not going first.”

Frank rolled his eyes, landing his focus on his ruler and making eye contact. He gave a small chuckle before nodding towards the stove.

“We’ll do what we normally do in uncharted territory.”

Shadowman whipped his head towards his ‘friends’ at the sound of that sentence. Whilst monitoring the ponies, which were all whispering amongst themselves, he had heard every dispute so far. He looked back, his cheeks lowering to give away a microscopic hint of dismay.

All of his allies were giving him that look.

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“Have you reached a decision?” Luna asked, turning away from her conversation with Twilight about the use of magic on the humans.

Through her experience, however brief it was, she found she could not use the basic levitation spell. Twilight’s rebuttal was that that the magic in the healing balm seemed to work just fine, causing further confusion between the two.

“Yes, we have.” Albert spoke pleasantly, resting against bookshelf.

“Yes, we ALL have.” Frank added, inspecting the literature amongst the shelves. He spied a few curious titles; ‘Magical masters’, ‘Manehattan murders’, ‘My Big Human Friendship Is Expendable guide for dummies.’ That one in particular grabbed his interests. He edged over whilst his friends began moving to the other side of the room, his back against the bookcase. When everyone else was distracted by his teammates he pulled the book out, hiding it behind his back, and returned to the table.

“So… are you guys gonna change into ponies or what?” Rainbow added, hovering by her favourite character.

“Maybe kid,” Hank replied, taking a seat next to Applejack. “We just want to see what would happen first.” He pointed to the phantom, his head still looking up to the pegasus. She in turn, as well everyone else, focused on Shadowman. He walked in, his hand over his head and wishing he could escape.

It was always him, for some reason. Never Frank to test his experiments, never Hank to check for a pack of heavily armed raiders behind a locked door, and never Prince Albert to say no to anyone. He noted how funny it was that he was the one to deny others, when he himself could not deny anybody else’s request for his aid. He hated it, but put up with it.

But even he had his limits and this was damn near close.

“We all had a say in the matter, and the one who said the least happened to volunteer.” Frank remarked, sitting between Celestia and Twilight. When Albert was welcomed to his spot between the ruler of the sun and the seamstress, Frank slid the book under his seat when nopony was looking.

“Oh, I guess that makes sense. So who’s first?” Twilight chirped, pausing when she noticed that Shadowman was massaging his nose. Luna gave a small titter about how correct her assumption was.

Of course it was him.

“How brave, so sister…” she trailed off, looking past a slightly concerned looking Fluttershy to spy her sister already rapidly skimming the pages. She took note in the subtle hint of pleasure in Celestia’s eyes as she scanned the tome, imagining her mind was in a frantic fan mare mode.

“Huh? Yes, sorry this spell has a lot of complex uses of tertiary and primary binding principles.”

“Are we ready to perform the spell?”

“Soon, but I believe we may require time to fully understand this spell. It has been while since I last performed it.”

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“Excuse me, err, Hank, could you please move over? You’re on my tail.” Fluttershy finally squeaked, after minutes of mumbling to get the man’s attention. Everyone and everypony had been ordered to gather in either the kitchen or on the upstairs landing away from where the spell was going to be cast.

“That is, if you don’t…mind. If… you want to you…” she spoke, trailing off until her mouth was just opening and closing. Hank was already looking at her, cocking an ear. It didn’t help that she was always looking at the floor, but he finally got the message after glancing at his foot.

“Sorry,” he said honestly. Mostly because she was defenceless and was his second favourite amongst the potentially traitorous equines; partially because he was actually in the wrong.

He was in the kitchen, Fluttershy smiling to have her tail back on his left, the azure pegasus hovering to his right, and looting the fridge for treats to his far right was Pinkie Pie. He was happy that something else had occupied her attention for once.

Upstairs, leaning on the railing, was Prince Albert conversing between Twilight and Rarity on the matter at hand. Applejack remained silent; the cowpony hated how sincere and friendly the humans were. However, she was respectful about how the prince had to decency to catch on to this and not ‘convert’ her, as she put it watching her friends bond with the bipeds, and left her alone.

In the center of the library were two rather giddy alicorns and an extremely annoying scientist. Whilst the two were referencing to common assumptions about a ponified Shadowman, carefully avoiding Frank catching wind of this, preparations were being made.

Frank took it upon himself to try and disprove magic; he accepted that some form of force manipulated the world, he wasn’t close minded, but the fact that it was called magic made his skin crawl.

Magic is just science we can’t explain. I will prove that magic does not exist and that everything can be explained through proper research and experiments. Levitation could just be a manipulation of the gravity field; whatever is generating the force is not… magic.

The least I can do is rename the terminology to something more modern.

Then again, these do seem like archaic times. he mused before glancing at his mute mate. Shadowman had been instructed to stand on the other side of the room, but judging by his head drooping from time to time, he wasn’t going to last long.

“Tia, do you think he’ll be tall? I would love for him to be tall.” Luna confided, wistfully looking between the silent primate and the notes on her part of the ritual.

“Look who is now wanting a relationship like the ‘Prince and I’.” Celestia replied with a sly grin. Luna gave slight nudge with a harsh glare. The elder simply giggled as she read the method of the spell. “Oh please, Lulu, I found that picture you hide under your bed long ago.”

The venomous look almost put fear into her heart. Almost.

“How dare you!”

“I’m your older sister, I have a right.” Celestia relied, inspecting her hoof as she referred back to centuries ago when the alicorns were but foals. It seems with that even with time, some things never change. They only learn when to appear.

“It is MY room!” Luna responded angrily.

“Can we get back to the matter at hand? I thought we were here to play hocus-pocus , rather than play family time.” Frank remarked, leaning in front of Celestia to look at the contents of the book. It was his first glance at how much to the equines knew about magic, and he was surprised by some of the technical sounding terminology. Things like ‘thrumming’, ‘primary weave’, and ‘Star Swirl glands’ caught his eye.

“I am sorry, you are right.”

“Of course I am, I’m never wrong,” he replied looking into the kitchen. Whilst Luna and Celestia mentally recalled numerous times he used that phrase, with undesirable results, he watched Pinkie Pie offer numerous amounts of some yellow liquid. Of course the equines accepted, but Hank held a hand up to show he didn’t want any.

“If he becomes a unicorn, I hope he goes through the horning pains as a foal does.” Luna muttered to herself, looking at the back of Frank’s head. “Are we now ready to begin, sister?”

“I believe so,” Celestia replied, beaming at Luna. “Things will go so much smoother if this spell works. It would be a shame to keep them confined to the library, when we could at least indulge in a bit of cross cultural experiences. With Frank’s mind we might even grasp some of the technology that could only exist in cartoons.” she continued before looking up from the book.

She leant closer to her sister, bearing a grin small enough to reveal her excitement. “Can you believe we are actually going to be with ponified versions of the My Big Human cast?” she asked in a hushed tone.

“It is every humares dream, believe us, we know.” Luna replied, equally as quietly.

“We are ready, Frank,” Celestia announced, looking towards the still distracted man. “As useful as you have been, we are going to have to ask you to join the others.”

“Actually, I think you’ll need me to move Shadow’s personal things; said so fourth paragraph in, third line.” Frank remarked, heading over towards his drowsy friend. The mistress of the night double checked the book and confirmed that he was in fact correct, but Celestia already knew that part of the procedure.

“Okay, strip down.” Frank said casually, earning an arched eyebrow form the dark man. “Well if you want to stand around all commando like, then that’s up to you. We only need you without anything metal or anything blocking your chest,” he continued, using his hand to gesture to his whole body.

“If you’re feeling tired, you can use that thing as a kick stand, Tripod,” he chuckled, earning a quick punch to the diaphragm. The action didn’t tied over well for Applejack or Fluttershy, or even Twilight who was used to seeing him get beaten for his antics, but Hank was once again happy to see his brother put in place.

Luna couldn’t help but get distracted as Shadow began to remove his jacket. To her recollection, he had only been seen without his trench coat in a few scenes. Underneath they all observed his skin tight black cover, Applejack gawking at the amount of knives attached to his body.

Yer see! That righ’ there’s why I don’t trust ‘em. Why the hay would a fella need that many knives?

Everypony could only stare at the amount of sharp weapons being handed over; a small mountain of blades and shurikens began to build up behind the Princesses. Spike, who was sitting on the steps chewing on a few rubies, only stared at him as he wondered where exactly they all came from, as did the rest of the group.

“A butter knife? Really?” asked Frank, staring at disbelief as he received the last knife belonging to the phantom. His reply was to mime a sandwich eating motion, bulging cheeks and all. “When the heck does an assassin have time to make sandwiches?”

“Frank, let it go. I’m actually looking forward to some more complex magic, and I’m sure the Princesses will deliver,” Albert chimed from above, earning a smile from both royal ponies. Celestia’s smile even managed to stay present when he immediately returned to happily conversing with Twilight, but more importantly Rarity.

Both laughing; she was fluttering her pretty little eyes whilst he was returning a warm smile.

She hated it.

“Alright, Pinkie Pie, is it?” Frank replied, switching his focus to the pink party pony. She responded by bouncing over, a jug of lemonade and a cup balanced on her back, before halting before him. Not a single drop seemed to be spilt.

“Yes, but call me Pinkie,” she said before leaning in. “All my friends call me Pinkie.” She waggled her eyebrows, causing him to recall images of that mint unicorn. He grabbed the jug and filled the cup, before trying balance it back on her back. He was interrupted by a tapping on his shoulder.

Shadowman had removed his top, exposing a gymnast’s body. The humares of the room took notice, Pinkie Pie being the only non humare to eye him up and down briefly. His chest held a small scar over his heart, close to a silver pendant hanging around his neck. After giving it a brief, tender rub, Shadow handed that over too.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let this out of my sight,” Frank replied sincerely. They both parted ways, the half dressed man standing on one side of the room, the other standing guard over the pile of weapons, clothing, and a trench coat. Luna noted the strange pendant, realising it had never been seen before, but chose to inquire about it another time.

Shadowman felt all eyes on him; it was almost instinctive for him to get out of the spotlight. If the matter required his appearance, or if it was for a task that needed everyone’s attention he reluctantly agreed to it.

The humans made sure to get perfect view, each sharing a glance that acknowledged that this might be the last time they see their agile friend as a man. Fluttershy backed up behind Pinkie Pie fearing the worst whilst Twilight was practically hanging over the edge of the railings in anticipation.

Soon enough the room fell silent; only the gentle hum of the alicorns horns echoed throughout the room as everybody held their breath. Shadowman closed his eyes, still wearing the shades that blocked out the light of the bolt that hit him. He felt a tingle, then a burning sensation as he collapsed to his knees. He hugged himself, grinding his teeth as his chest felt like it was being drilled through, before shortly feeling the pain subside into an itchy sensation. Before long the glistening yellow and indigo forces departed, leaving him as if nothing had even happened.

“It…didn’t work?” Twilight asked rhetorically, announcing everyone else’s thought. Everypony and everybody shared a small look of either disappointment or confusion; Luna stepped up confidently, standing next to the near naked man.

“We believe we may have the answer,” she stated, giving him a once over. “When we were… trying to convince Shadowman to return to the library,” she hesitantly asked, earning a cocked eyebrow from the man. “We attempted to use magic on him to grasp him as we would do to any other object, but found that our ability to levitate him was cancelled out. Our magic was useless against him.”

“But what about the healing lotion?” Fluttershy asked, before once again retreating behind Pinkie.

“That is rather peculiar; how can one form of magic affect a human but another cannot?” Rarity asked Twilight as they descended the stairs. Twilight studied the floor, searching for the answer. Finally she came to a conclusion after mere seconds of staring between two panels.

“Maybe, it is the way in which magic is applied?”

“Although I am against this whole magic fiasco, I know it is an underlying force of this world. I know little about it, but I think I might know enough to know why the spell didn’t work.” Frank stepped forward, standing between Twilight and Celestia. “If the healing balm works by being absorbed through the skin, then we must consider human skin as more than a defence against disease and microbes, but also as a shield against…magic.” Once again that word left a sour taste in his mouth.

“So what you’re saying is that the conventional method of using magic does not apply to a human. It would explain why a balm would work.” Both Twilight and Frank held quizzical looks, simultaneously scratching their chins. “If that were the case, then perhaps if we can get past the barrier then we can still change you.” She put forward.

“Not at all, I suspect if your kind could summon a, say, a ball of fire then the effects would become apparent. That spell isn’t trying to change us, but to conjure a flaming ball of death. The trick is finding a method to affect our body from the inside out.”

“Interesting. While that doesn’t exactly explain why a simple levitation spell does not work, it does give a plausible explanation. We have to study as to why it doesn’t work; a few experiments wouldn’t hurt right?” she asked, attempting to copy Rarity’s puppy dog eyes.

Science with her favourite scientist… what more could she want? The ponies rolled their eyes at the display; of course anything strange to her had to be catalogued, studied, and experimented on. Frank, much to his resentment, gave in to pleading and admittedly well-presented reasons for studying.

With one catch, he would help in the research, and Shadowman would be the test subject. Twilight restrained a large squee, returning to the matter at hand. She pondered over why the healing lotion worked, and came to a conclusion.

“Perhaps there is some way to get past the human skin, and still turn you into a pony after all.”

“That would either require injecting magic into our blood vessels, allowing it to circulate around our body so that the intended results become apparent, or simply creating some sort of bath for us to bath in until we change.” he replied.

“Actually, perhaps we can go one step better.” Twilight commented, earning everyone’s attention.

“I’m intrigued.” Frank replied, giving her full attention. “Maybe we have come to the same conclusion.”

“Likely.”

“Possibly.”

“Maybe.”

“Certainly.”

“Definitely.”

“Absolutely.”

“GET ON WITH IT!” bellowed the rest, barring the royals, Shadowman, and Fluttershy.

“Digestion.” They both said in unison, rubbing the back of their heads. It wasn’t until the others started mumbling, and when the Princesses and Dash crowd around that she realised what had happened.

“I just had an intellectual debate with Frank!” she squeaked, peering over her shoulder to him giving her a small grin before conversing with Shadowman. “And I’m going to be doing real life experiments with him!”

“Yeah, although all that sciencey stuff is for you eggheads, that was kind of cool. Shame Hank can’t become a pony though. I really wanted that hoof wrestling match,” Dash added, sighing after landing next to the unicorn.

“Don’t worry; I think tomorrow we should ask Zecora if she knows any potions that can change one creature to another.” Dash’s mood perked up, as did Luna’s slightly.

“Well done, my pupil. I suspect this is the same Zecora from your friendship report?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we hope the alchemist can conjure a remedy suited for our needs.” Luna said, watching Shadowman return to his former clothed self. She once again eyed the pendant he was returned, but felt as if it conjured painful nostalgia him. What was more important was the fact that the piece of jewellery was never seen in the show.

Is it possible, that they had lives before the show? she asked herself, watching him hang the silver pendant around his neck.

“Me too, it would be easier to show them around Ponyville without them being hunted down by the bronies, or worse the haters.” Twilight cringed shortly afterwards. “We better avoid Big Mac and Mayor Mare.”

“Unfortunately, we have to wait until Zecora can make the required potion, given that she even can.” Celestia sighed, disheartened to not be taking home a blonde haired stallion. “I doubt we would be able to keep them in the castle in the current state they are in. Sorry, Luna, but I’m afraid Prince Albert and Shadowman will be staying here for the night. With Blue Blood, who will not doubt attempt to make matters worse, we cannot guarantee their safety if word reached the public.”

“You mean you’re upset that Rarity may be spending more time with Albert?” Luna could almost see the raging fire in that deathly look her sister gave her; it only gave further evidence as to why she was the ruler of the sun.

“Err, what did you say Princess?” the pegasus asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Nothing dear Rainbow Dash. Sister, I believe it is time we leave.” Luna spoke, turning away to leave the building.

Soon enough the time came for everypony to say goodbye, each receiving varying levels of disheartened farewells. Surprisingly, Shadow made more of an effort in saying goodbye than Hank did by at least waving. Twilight, with the minor aid of her number one assistant and Hank, brought out two mattresses for two humans to sleep in the basement.

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Soon, the library was engulfed in peaceful silence, barring the snoring of Hank in the basement and Spike upstairs. The behemoth and Albert took to the comfort of the mattresses whilst Frank and Shadow slept on opposite sides of the center table. But before Shadowman could be rewarded with the blissful miracle that was sleep, Frank had something to ask of him.

Again.

“Hey, see that book under your seat?” Shadowman refused to move, hoping his response would give clues that he wanted to rest. Still, between rubbing that pendant and shifting around he didn’t have much luck.

“I’m going to try and gain some knowledge about how the ponies know about us.” That caught his attention; if it could hint to why he was being chased by pony doppelgängers, then he could stay awake for one last hour. Lazily, he slid over the book and tried to get back to sleep. It was when a candle lit up, that he soon groaned.

He sat up to spy his shades on the table, and Frank sitting up already a few pages in.

“Sorry, but I need some help.” He looked into the darkened figures hazel eyes and saw small amount of murderous intent. It didn’t help that the silent killer’s eyes focused on his wrist blades sitting between them. “I want you to help me research. We won’t be doing it long, besides you get the fun part,” Frank added, flicking over another page.

“Vinyl Scratch, that mare who took me to her house, which you demolished,” he looked up only to see his counterpart rubbed his shoulder before giving a nonchalant small shrug. “Said that some ponies write about us. Fictional stories of course. Some get published at some convention called ‘Bronycon’, others still float around cyber space. I want you to read a few.”

“Only those that have impacted this ‘community’, as she says, get put into a book, and also contain correct grammar and spelling." Frank closed the book, using his finger as a book mark. "

Why some people wouldn't consider that important is beyond me; the whole purpose is not to be annoying but give clarity. If an author doesn't strive to achieve a certain standard then what’s the point? Why not just have one big run on sentence? It's what proof readers are for after all.”

Shadowman frowned, slowly descending to his resting position.

“Okay, just one. Over there. Look for the books under ‘My Big Human: Friendship is Expendable’.” Hank gestured towards a bookshelf, close to the kitchen. Groggily, the ghost wandered over to the bookshelf. “It’s kind of a harsh way of looking at our lives, but I couldn’t say it was any less true. I’ve jeopardised your life as much as you have to mine.” That comment earned a glare at break neck speeds, and didn’t ease up as Shadowman pulled a book out randomly.

The book was titled ‘Royal Buffet’ by Trixie Lulamoon.

“Hey, they got a bestseller called the ‘Prince and I’, and another called ‘My Little Shadow’. Oh, what’s this? ‘Frankie goes to Hockywood? Isn’t that the pointy bit on the back of the hind leg? They’ll make names out of anything.”

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It was a glorious morning on the border of the Everfree forest; the smell of damp grass, the cool breeze of the air aiding in the focus of a rather chipper mare. The zebra was busy humming a Zebrican tune, straightening one of the many tribal masks decorated around the hut.

The witchdoctor’s workplace, doubling as a home away from home, was filled with all sorts of bubbling concoctions; both pleasant and foul odours mixed into the air, contrasting the colour jars and flasks they belonged to. Vases lay around; sacks of ingredients hung around within a hoof's reach, all centred around a large empty cauldron.

Zecora couldn’t help but give a bashful smile as she thought about her date with the shy Mr.Bell. She took a small glance at her dress, still resting at the foot of her bed. He was the perfect gentlepony, given you ignored his tendency to ramble when he was caught up in talking about a topic, but she chalked it down as a cute quirk.

The champagne she tasted was exquisite; she rarely had anything alcoholic besides the spiritual drinks she sometimes brewed up. Not for her, but for some ponies looking to cure some ailment.

The way she saw it, if she makes it, she can take some of it. The meal and pleasant conversation still captured her dreams, although she had more grass stains on her black and white gown in her fantasy.

Because they wound up stargazing in a nearby field…

With a happy sigh, the mare picked up a list of cures and remedies on her to do list, some for her but mostly for the rise in customers coming to see her.

“Without a doubt, I can say, a second date is on its way. Perhaps a small token, planted on his cheek? Perhaps I should ask Rarity, in her boutique?” she said out loud. The problem wasn’t that she doubted a blossoming romance, especially not since the dance, but it had been a few years since she considered a coltfriend. The last thing she wanted was for their friendship to end.

The more she spent lingering on the subject, the more she thought about the first kiss. When was it to come? By who and when? She dismissed the second date as a possibility, thinking it may be a bit forward.

With an indecisive mind catching her focus, her first potion, a cure for toothache, was performed automatically by her body.

Perhaps the seamstress will know the answer?
Her romantic mind will prevent a disaster.
If this issue is my current task,
Surely it could not hurt to simply ask?

Her musings were cut short by a knock on her door; in doing so she poured more black twigerhurt berries in than necessary. The results were a black, thick, tar like sludge in her cauldron. With a bit of silent cursing in her native tongue, she made her way over towards the oak door.

“Twilight Sparkle, a pleasant surprise; why have you come so early after sun rise?” she asked, raising her hoof to block out the still rising sun. She was genuinely happy to see the bookworm, it was enough to subside her irritation for ruining a small batch of her potion.

“Hi, Zecora.Sorry if I have disturbed you, but I really need your help with a big problem I having...”

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Author's Notes:

Hock: the pointy bit in the hind legs of a pony. Hence the Hockywood reference. Although somebody writing a story about ponies playing ice hockey would be awesome.

Sorry it has been so long for an update; that genetically inherited disease known as life is getting in the way a lot. Shout out to Soulless DCLXVI for the author and in-fan-fic-fan-fic that Shadowman happened to pick up. The victim is the same, but I had to change the title and who the killer was. Thank you for the inspiration.

Shout out to Recovery 565 for proof reading! Much obliged kind Sir!

Chapter 8: Or else it gets the horses again.

“Lyra, stop, you've been driving me up the wall with this!” yelled Bon Bon from upstairs. The cottage had been home to a large debate over the existence of humans or merely whether or not her friend had any sanity left.

“First you practically wailed all night long when I let you watch the season finally,” Bon Bon replied; Lyra glared at the top step, focusing all her rage, “Did you ever find out why your horn didn't stop glowing?”

“Well, no, but-“

“And then you start claiming that you’re seeing fictional characters in the street.”

“Bon Bon,” moaned the mint unicorn from the bottom of the stairs. “I’m telling you, I almost caught Frank!” She scowled at the bottom step. “Then he slipped through my hooves, using that quick wit of his,” she muttered as she kicked the step. She winced and regretted the action, before gazing back up stairs.

“Look, beside the fact that you think you chased a cartoon character around Ponyville without waking anypony, there are so many things wrong with that story.” Finally, a cream earth pony appeared at the top of the stairs. “Number one: you say you saw Princess Luna there, if you recall her whisper can rip Carrot Top’s carrots out of the ground. I think we would all be aware if she turned up in Ponyville.”

She began her descent, her hooves gently slapping with each step. “Secondly, you said he managed to steal Pinkie Pie’s balloon and somehow teleport in a burst of flames. You never said humans could use magic.”

“Okay, that was because he used Spike to send himself away. Probably to the Princess now that I think about it, that’s where Twilight says the letter goes to,” Lyra replied, before an enlightened expression consumed her face. “I’VE GOT IT!” she screeched, bouncing around the living room with her hooves clopping.

“Oh for Celestia’s sake.” Bon Bon groaned, reaching the bottom.

“The humans were meant to go to the Princesses because they’re real and are visiting Equestria,” Lyra said, hopping over the coffee table. “Everypony knows Luna is a humare so it makes sense she would escort them!” She stopped bouncing around and smiled at her roommate. “But then there was the whole Brony incident and the humans had to scatter,” she added, darting behind the couch. Her head popped out enough for her eyes to discretely scout the room; her tactic would have been effective had it not been for the horn shooting out of her head.

“So it took even longer for her to find them. Then I found Frank and chased him around, he must have known about Spike’s messenger flame so he used that against me and teleported himself to Celestia!” She wound up landing directly in front of her friend.

Other than the deep breathing of Lyra, the room was completely silent. Bon Bon studied her friend, spying the large grin. She rolled her eyes and looked as if she was going to speak. Suddenly, the sound of a cuckoo clock startled her, but not the mint mare. She regained her breath, looking at the clock above the TV. She noted the time and began to head towards the kitchen.

“Lyra, it’s ten in the morning and I’ve got to go to work in half an hour,” she said looking back to a bewildered mare. “Can I at least have half an hour without your usual antics?” Lyra grumbled in response, before glancing at the clock as well.

“Oh hey! The library should be open by now.” The aqua equine turned and headed for the door, spinning her head around to see the cream mare routing through the upper cabinets. “See you later Bon Bon, just going to get my book back off Twilight.”

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Shadowman writhed in agony, the soft voice of his captor hushing him as the wooden utensil dug further in. The cook’s tranquil state rivaled the dark, blooded, cellar room; many of the previously used sharp tools reflected a crimson smear from the single, flickering light.

“Shhh,” the behemoth spoke, cradling the mangled head of his friend or, in light of recent events, the package the ingredients came in. The quivering wreck, a former shadow, still tried to fight the brute’s strength, but to no avail. His arms bled as they remained chained to the ceiling, which rattled with every pathetic groan.

Splinter… had wriggled itself to the back of his eyeball.

“Thanks for doing this for me, Shadow. I’m glad we put our encounter behind us; still hard to believe you wanted to kill the Prince,” Hank chuckled, prying the eye out. A single cry oozed out of Shadowman’s mouth, as did a waterfall of scarlet. “Not a lot of people try out my more experimental cooking.” Blood, sweat, and tears merged into a vile concoction of pain and suffering as the droplets pooled around a fallen pair of shades.

The titan gazed over to a stained bowl, filled with a few fingers and parts of the assassin’s calves. With a sickening snap, he ripped the optic organ from his friend’s skull and threw it into the bowl, landing right next to a tongue.

“Oh, but you’re gonna love what I’m gonna do next; I feel like breaking out an old family recipe,” Hank chirped, stepping back from his hanging companion. Or rather, what was left of the naked carcass. The rhythmic rising of the chest ensured the chef that he still had time to finish his catering before having to move onto the deserts.

Sharpening a knife he plucked from a sink, the polluted water appearing to be some form of cardinal oil spill, he walked back towards the meat sack and spun him around.

“I think a few steak and kidney pies would tie over with the nobles, but hey, fuck ‘em if they don’t eat them. I can have whatever they can’t stomach.”

Another piercing scream…

Shadow couldn't stomach any more. In a fit of silent disgust he launched the book at the wall, followed quickly by a small throwing knife. The book remained pinned to the wall, hanging by the hardback title page.

Frank, too say the least, was shocked. His jaw dropped as he glanced between the phantom clutching his head and the defenceless short story affixed to the wall.

“Hey!” he yelled, catching Shadow’s attention, “Do NOT simply damage books like that you fiend!” he scolded, pointing at the ruined publication in question.

Shadowman shook his head as he walked over, before tearing the book from the wall. In one hand he held the meat of the story, in the other he had the title cover. Before Frank could explode, he tossed both halves on the table in front of him. After pointing from the cover to the tome Frank had been reading, the genius put two and two together and began looking it up. After muttering the title whilst skimming through the pages he can came to a stop.

“Ah, the ‘Royal Buffet’, by Trixie Lulamoon. She sounds kinky,” he commented, looking up to the neutral stare of Shadowman. Even with his shades on, despite the emotionless mask, Frank could tell he wasn’t all too impressed by the way he folded his arms.

“Lighten up,” he said, slightly disgruntled, “what’s the matter… oh. OH!” he said, his eyes widening as he registered the text in front of him. Every so often, he would give his team mate a worried look, sometimes one of sheer terror.

“Is this what you… well, is this what made you... unstable?” Frank struggled to get his words out, the revelation of this occurrence was tremendous; both explaining a long forgotten portion of Shadowman’s past and yet obscuring the truth with even more questions.

“Is this story, word for word, exactly what… you know.”

Shadowman sighed, gingerly nodding his head.

“Does this story best describe what happened?”

Again, another nod of the head.

“Do you mind if I read it?”

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Twilight rolled over in her sleep, avoiding the sun’s rays. It was a scheduled event, sleeping in a little longer than usual, and merely happened once every two months.

Not for long though, she did have studying to do after all. Then again a few dreams were sometimes worth the few seconds that went over the allotted time, such as the one currently leaving a small grin on her face.

She giggled subconsciously, fidgeting her hind legs about under the sheets; Spike stirred as footsteps strolled past.

She mumbled something inaudible, the grin expanding as she nuzzled the pillow. The newest occupant in the room paused, he cocked his eyebrow as he watched her forelegs grip tightly to pillow. A pleasant sigh got his attention causing him to make his presence known.

“Twilight?” The man asked, rubbing a screwdriver underneath his ponytail. His cheeks were burning up slightly as he watched her take a playful nibble on the white object of her sleepy affection.

“Twilight?” he once again repeated, edging closer to the bed. She didn’t reply, in any form whether it be an acknowledging mumble or a twitch of any part of her form. However, the moment he saw a slithering tongue poke out he bellowed, “TWILIGHT!”

The mare shot out of bed, flinging the slightly damp pillow at the man. A startled Spike leapt out of bed, searching for the source of the disturbance. The man, blinded by the pillow, wobbled backwards. Spikes eyes dilated as a large biped stumbled close to him. He crushed Spike, both releasing a loud yelp. The mammal threw the screw driver in the air, accidently embedding it in the ceiling creating a small twang.

“FRANK?!” she screeched, glaring at the man. She sat up, her hind legs feeling slightly weak, “What are you doing in my room?” Tossing the pillow to the side, as well as pulling the lizard’s tail from underneath him, he looked back up at the lavender unicorn. A sly grin formed on his lips.

“Oh nothing, just thought I’d say good morning to our generous hostess,” he remarked, standing back up. “So…” he said coyly. “How’d you sleep? You seemed to be having ‘fun’.” The mare blushed, looking away and darting her eyes around.

“Err, great, thanks.” That was an understatement. “W-w-what do you mean I seemed to be having fun?” she asked, her voice buckling slightly. He had two options, one he would gladly exploit even if he caught Prince Albert in a similar situation. Especially Albert.

However he knew it would be rather rude to do so and, regrettably, said she was rolling about. Given that she was providing shelter and safety from the easily excitable masses of ‘Humares’ and haters- as he found out through the book- he chose to simply spare her the indignity.

For now.

“How did you get in?” she asked, curiously studying the door. He pointed lazily to the ceiling, before double taking at the glare the drake gave him. Spike continued giving him a fiery stare whilst muttering uncomplimentary statements based about the waking hours, and waking methods, of mammals.

He waddled out the room, rubbing the spines on his scalp, as Frank said, “As you know -and I do know you all know- I can access any entrance, door, chamber, vault, force field, or generally get past any high security barrier in an average time less than three minutes.”

He rose to his feet, rubbing his lower back as he reached for something on a nearby cabinet. He turned around and revealed a dismantled golden door knob in his right hand. He held a single screw in his left and inspected it closely.

“I suppose you could say I’m a pro at screwing with any entrance.” His worried gaze turned back to the open door, missing the tint of rose resting on the mare’s cheeks.

“Why are you here? Couldn’t you wait until I woke up!” she scolded, dragging her mind out of the gutter. He turned around, reaching into his jacket and producing half a book.

“WHAT? DID YOU RUIN A PERFECTLY GOOD BOOK?!” she yelled, launching herself out of bed. The covers shot up as she stomped around the bed, attempting to unnerve him. She only grew more agitated when he glared right back at her.

“Of course not! I would never do such a thing,” he replied, pointing the cover at the mare. After a magenta glow wrapped the face of the book; it shot out, sliding between his fingers and almost burning them in the process. “It’s just that my friend, Shadowman, might not agree with this particular novel, or what it did to him for a few months. He went from anti-social to practically invisible over night. Doesn't sound like much considering his previous profession, but it was noticable whenever we confronted him,” he added once she finished reading the title. Her widened in terror, sweat poured from her brow as she looked between him and the cover.

“You, err, didn’t read it… did you?” she squeaked, wincing slightly under his gaze.

“Yes.” That word, that single, daunting word, spoken with an eerily serene quality. He looked down his nose, sending a subtle message.

She couldn’t help but fear how realistic he was, the attention to detail in the single lock of hair out of place spoke of a slightly uncollected mind; the way his beady eyes narrowed, as if he had been wronged in some way, caused her step back; the scabs on his hand became apparent as he stood at the door, legs spread apart, and his arms crossed.

This was the Frank she had seen before demanding answers from troublesome students, a side that whenever apparent she would support no questions asked out of fan driven devotion. To be on the receiving end, in the real world, was something to cause slight dismay.

“We-what- what?” she stuttered, speaking before she could actually prepare a sentence; this was the last thing she wanted to come across, largely due to how she was unprepared to handle such a situation.

“Look, I may not understand the entire situation, nor do I comprehend what form of existence we are currently in and what it means to us,” he said, massaging his forehead. “But I know of the cult called humares and bronies.” He scrunched his face up slightly, holding a pained expression before releasing a sigh. “I… have also read that your kind have often generated, err, tributes, depicting images, music, and stories about us. So I have a few questions, then we discuss that book.”

“How did you find out?” she asked. His stances slackened slightly as he let out an amused sigh, grinning back at her.

“I’m the data collector and the technical support; my job is either bypassing security or gathering information and handing the useful bits to my colleagues. You let me sleep in a library on a strange world, what did you think would happen?” She smiled sheepishly at that comment, her ears drooping down.

“First question,” he said, taking residence on the bed. He jumped into the air, swinging his legs up to become parallel to the bed. After bouncing twice, he rested with his hands behind his head.

“Are you a brony?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. He took note of the small pause, before she answered with a reluctant shake of the head.

“Yes, I am; was a member of the Brony community, although seeing as it consisted largely of humares you should probably call it the humare community, like the rest of us. The correct term for me is ‘Humare’, seeing as I am a mare. ”

“Oh don’t worry my pretty purple pony,” she flushed incredibly; some stallion said the same thing in her dream, “I never doubted that. What do you mean you were a member? Did we become uninteresting all of a sudden? Trust me our recent misadventure could win you back.”

“I, and a few thousand others, saw that. Sorry about that.” She rubbed the back of her head, giving a sincere look. “You’re not mad at us? Not…creeped out by me?”

“Well, I’m more worried about the written aspects of your fandom, and well I am a little bit uneasy about alien equines knowing a few of my dark secrets.” He gave her a suspicious look. “Just out of curiosity, what do you know about me?” Another awkward silence flooded into the room, followed by a few moments of her opening and closing her maw.

“Well, I know you’re accident prone with your inventions, all of which are brilliant by the way. You… can be sarcastic, narcissistic; you often use your brother as a stooge; on many occasions you have tried to pry a voice from Shadowman, sometimes by unethical means.” She blinked a few times, before scratching her head. “You’re also scared of really small insects.”

“Okay in my defence, that’s because I fell into an ant hill when I was fifteen; I was studying them and well, I kind of lost balance.” It was his turn to blush, as he scratched his chin. “The kids picked on me for a while, calling me the walking-talking- tomato; didn’t really get me any dates for a while, low self-esteem and all.”

Twilight was stunned; this was unheard of news, legible backstory, but most importantly: canon fact!

“Wow, I never knew about that! You never went into any sort of detail about your high school years.” She cracked a smile, her eyes widening as her grin grew larger. “I just learnt something nopony else knows!” She looked back at him, spying the amused look.

“I guess you don’t know everything about me then. I expected as much, that’s… in all honesty a great relief.” He released a deep sigh. “You’re more like the tabloids recounting our more extraordinary days, albeit with more access to the private moments of our lives. I suppose I am not angry to be in this world; my inner scientist it screaming for me to study it, rather than show disinterest or dismay at a potential reality.” He was about to lean back into the pillow, stealing more comfort, when he had a sudden realisation.

“Oh, and thank you for describing me as a charming, handsome, professor slash inventor. You really got my good side.” Twilight released a chuckle, before waving him off.

“Sorry, that was my first assumption of you. Later on I realised you were the intelligent, honest, person who only wants the best out of ponies, err, people. You do show some level of concern and friendship for your friends, especially your brother, when they are in trouble. You just have a funny way of showing it, hence why you’re pegged as the slightly dark comedian of the group.”

“You mean I beat Shadowman? Good, if you said that he won by telling a joke I probably would have flipped a table. Is there an award?” he asked, earning the shake of the head from her.

“Okay, so back to the issue at hand.” He sat up, crossing his legs. Twilight frowned when she saw traces of dirt ruining her starry bed covers. “That book, as I understand it, is a rather controversial topic amongst your herd.”

“Community.”

“Cult.”

“Community.

“Religious order.”

“COM- oh forget it.”

“As I understand there have been few stories that have been published, and that was one of the more horrific of them all. How many books have been made?” he asked, turning on his side. Twilight brought a hoof to her chin whilst staring absentmindedly at the floor panels.

“I think there are twelve actually; ever since the first seas- err, the first time we saw you, ponies have been writing stories. Stuff called fan-fiction, and well, there is a competition where the actual members of the wrrriiiiirrrecorders- yeah that’s them- recorders. They record your events and show them to the rest of us.” She gave a nervous chuckle before clearing her throat. Frank didn’t let the incident go unnoticed, but chose to let her continue anyway.

“So, these recorders judge the stories over the pony net and the top three every year are published, and well, four times three is twelve.” She finished with a painfully large smile.

“Okay, so do these ‘recorders’ register them as actual events that take place in our world or are they simply regarded as a good, false story on our lives?” he asked, awaiting her answer with a hidden anxiety.

“Oh no, see, the only ‘real’ events we know of is what they show us. They are only saying they approve of a story and want to make a book out of it. Probably for marketing and financial gain.” She gave a small shrug, and opened her mouth to reveal that she had a few for her own personal entertainment. “I actually have a few of my favourites, err, but now I’m not so sure since you’re, well, real.”

That and the fact that, hidden away, for her personal pleasure, were two stories she would completely put the humans into disarray. Fortunately, they were locked away in her chest.

“Don’t worry too much, I suppose if I met a few mythological beings, and had stories based upon them in my room, I’d be reluctant to share. Then again, I am a scientist at heart, so it would probably be a good idea to let me read a few.” His smile fell as a small hint of disgust shone in his eyes. “This particular novel is not one of your favourites was it?”

“That one there is just their way of taking an attack and turning it into a joke; I swear it’s only here because it was requested by a few ponies here in town. I hate it!” She gave another sorry look, to which he ignored and was staring at the cover page, more specifically the gaping hole in the sinister picture.

There’s something she’s not telling me. Wrriiiiirecorders is clearly an attempt to hide something. It’s the missing piece I know it. Wrrriii-wri-wringlers? No. Wrrrriight? No. Wrrr-writers? His eyes briefly widened, before subsiding to their normal level.

Writers. Writers means story. A story can be a play. A play has a script… a cartoon is scripted. He sighed, once again attempting to process the information, but to no avail.

So it is true. Primane is a lie; our lives were meaningless until now. Still, why until now? What changed? He wasn’t going to get an answer, nor did he want any more at the moment. Well, at least not on this subject.

“So, you think that these stories don’t affect us at all, don’t you?” He slowly craned his neck around, losing any look of positive emotion on his face. “Well, you’d be surprised what these stories have done.” He got up out of bed, missing the confused expression upon Twilight’s face.

“What do you mean?” she asked as he headed towards the door with heavy steps.

“You’d be surprised what they meant to us, and what they did to Shadowman. I’m interested in finding the other eleven, though, it’ll help test a theory of mine. I’ll tell you later, right now, I think we need to get those drinks.” He stood in the doorway, turned around and said, “If you can, make mine a nice teal coloured unicorn.”

Her fan mare side, almost, almost reached her throat, but a disciplined mind beat the squeal into submission as cleared her throat.

“W-Why a unicorn?” she asked, smiling brightly.

“Don’t rightly know, going off you, they seem rather interesting.” He smirked back, reaching for the door handle. After fondling the air, he remembered that it was missing and left with an awkward chuckle as he closed the door.

Twilight, at that nano-second hopped around the bedroom restraining an ecstatic yell. A few times she stopped to perform a victory dance, or debatably, a victory spasm.

Thank you ‘Frankie goes to Hockywood!’

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The blazing sun in the sky burned with an intensity, matching the speed in which Celestia was writing her latest fan-fiction. She had another possible twenty minutes before the next session of her royal duties, mostly explaining to a certain unicorn why mistreatment of staff wound him being pelted by rotten fruit by a, now, ex-member of the royal kitchen. Other than that it was the standard ponies with quarrels, worries, on the odd occasion, a wonderful gift to brighten the day.

Still, given the choice, this new, inspiring, dynamic piece of literature had to be written and she would happily prefer to continue doing so. Another humans in Equestria story, based upon the season’s finale.

Names were always an issue, but she found one that she believed suited a side of her female character, currently aiding Prince Albert. She was written to be a bit more on the … floozy-ish side of a lady. Although, her ideals of being generous and polite were predominant so far; the Princess was far above petty jealousy.

So she told herself.

“Well, it would be rather rude of me to not help you; I’ll give you fresh attire if you wish, something to help keep you warm,” Miss Tart spoke softly, approaching the man. He gave a quick once over of his attire. He spied his slightly torn jade sleeves, the pants he wore shredded around the ankle, his armoured chest held a dent.

“That would be marvelous, thank you. Miss Tart, how could I repay you? I doubt my currency means much here.” Prince Albert cocked an eyebrow at the fluttering of her pretty little eyelashes, but disregarded any notion of what they could potentially mean.

“Nonsense, I couldn't let a gentlecolt like you leave without proper attire. You would catch a death of cold, and I would hate to be responsible for that.” Her horn glowed, pulling various fabrics from nearby shelves and plucking a tape measure from a draw.

“Now then,” she said coyly, her voice like the silk of her bed sheets. “Take off your pants.”

Suddenly a bright flash tore her from her story, what now seemed more like a ‘Fact-Fiction’ of sorts. The startled Princess spilled ink across the pages of her work, generating a small whine. She spied a scroll, still bearing green vapours of smoke, lying on the far side of the desk.

Rather than inspect it, she gave a mournful glance at the stained page before her. Moments after, her face shifted into a state of shock.

Oh my, that was… rather atrocious of me. How could I portray her in such a way? She is a lovely, generous mare and is nothing less than ladylike, why, she could put a few nobles to shame. She sighed, her horn a glow as the mess she had created began to clean itself up.

Maybe I am a tad envious of her position; Rarity is after all going to be in more contact with him than I. This is not the way I should be behaving; I will bear more dignity, eloquence, and take the higher ground on the matter. My personal pursuit aside, I have to ensure their safe return. A tiny smirk grew as she gave the newly arrived scroll short look, before deciding to read it.

Still, if he becomes a stallion, and comes to visit Canterlot, she’s not invited. Also I image a few wine stores may have to be restocked. she released a small titter before her eyes began downloading the information before her.

Dear Princess Celestia

I believe that whilst you are not present I should update you on our new friend’s progress.

To start, unfortunately, I believe that Frank may be drawing ever closer to discovering the truth. This morning he interrupted a rather fantastic dream to tell me that he had discovered about humares and bronies, he then asked if I was one, to which I admitted to him I was. I have no doubt that he would have stumbled across that fact sooner or later; recalling season three, episode nineteen, hiding the truth from him and the others may not be the best option. Although, similar to that episode, I wouldn’t be in any danger, but I would rather not wind up like the Doctor.

I don’t like syrup in my mane.

Or wallpaper paste.

Another issue is that Shadowman read one of the published stories, and sadly it wasn’t ‘My Little Shadow’. He read ‘Royal Buffet.’

She released sharp gasp as her eyes tore away from the letter. She, as an avid reader and fellow author, looked upon a large army stack of stories on a shelf nearby. Amongst the mile long plank were numerous tales she had collected during her time ruling, mostly adventure with the odd romance thrown in.

Eleven, slender hardbacks, plus another bulky tome, stood in dedication to the show. However, their number dwindled in comparison to the other stories collected over the years, high above the Diarch.

One slim book in particular caught her eye: Royal Buffet. She chose to keep the story, not out of support for the tale, it was diabolic by her standards, but as a testament to how her ponies were able to turn the other cheek as it were. She read on.

What I found more startling was how Frank seemed to hint that these particular stories may have influenced their lives in some way. Unfortunately he refused to mention in what ways, but given the nature of the published stories I can only assume that in some cases the results were not always beneficial.

Looking back at the twelve books, she gave a variety of expressions; from grimacing to cracking a merry smile, she found herself laughing at the thought of one particular story, but giving a wistful look at that last tome.

That one should be sweet, but I can see why he may not like it. Then again if he has often looked beyond the superficial appearances, then perhaps he may like it. I know I enjoyed reading it. she thought before returning to the letter.

As for my next course of action, I plan to try and attain a species changing potion from Zecora, given such a thing is possible. I have asked for Shadowman and Frank to remain quiet about the subject until there is time to discuss it later, as for now, I have asked them to remain hidden in the basement until I return from Zecora’s.

Also, you should know that Hank makes an amazing omelette. I mean I knew he was meant to be a great cook in all, but wow! Shadowman doesn’t seem too phased by the story, but whenever Hank grabs a knife of Splinter he often takes a step back; Frank has already begun tinkering with some of the old broken equipment in the basement, after breaking into my room to wake me up. Also I have some great news, in my opinion…

He WANTS to be a teal unicorn!

I almost squealed like a filly on Hearth’s warming eve.

As a side note, Prince Albert has removed his armoured chest plate. I have it right next to me, and it clearly looks like it’s been through Tartarus. It also looks like some of the paint from the Frokalock Festival is still here. Titan Strong gave a good guess when he said the purple paint smells like grape.

From your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.

Celestia sighed, once again feeling slightly envious; she couldn’t help but feel as if she had been missing out, but centuries of practice had restricted her from partaking in many of life’s joys. Well, since late into her first century anyhow. She glanced over towards the sun, using her internal body clock to judge the time. You’d be surprised how well one can estimate what time of day it is when they are attuned to the sun.

“I’d best be returning to my duties, I can contemplate why I have to be kept away from my favourite character after I’ve finished helping my little ponies.”

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“I must ask my good friend, what is the issue you wish to mend?” the zebra asked, emptying the vat of useless black gunk into a sink.

“Well, I was wondering if you know any potions that could transform one species to another; we have visitors who may not be, err,” She rolled her hoof around, searching for the right choice of words, “welcomed at a first glance.” She gave Zecora a smile, to which she replied with a strange look.

“A disguise to avoid distress? This must be a serious matter to address.” The mare moved out of the kitchen, followed by Twilight. She asked for the purple mare to wait by the empty cauldron, offering a few treats whilst she searched her room for an old tome. Returning minutes later, finding Twilight to have eaten a single blue cupcake, she placed the tome on a desk nearby.

“It is an old potion, that which you seek. Fortunately for you, it can be done as we speak,” she said once she found the page she had been searching for. The librarian studied the page and found strange pictures noted around the yellow pages.

Two large outlines of circles, one on each page, were formed by the Zebrican language. The maroon lettering encased the picture of an equine on the left and a picture of what appeared to be a red river embalming the same pony on the right.

Around the edges of the left page were what clearly looked like ingredients composed of flowers and other vials, complete with name and quantity underneath each miniature diagram. On the other page, arching along the right hand side of the large circle, was a small paragraph that Twilight couldn’t decipher.

“So is this how all of your potions are written down? Seems rather messy.” Twilight commented, looking out of the book.

“It is a recipe book unlike the kind of which you know; yours may give the whys and how’s of an ingredient though. Here the book gives the results and the needs,” she replied before pausing. A small frown formed on her brow as she studied the ingredients. “It appears I must use the last of my Poison Joke seeds.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Can I help you collect some more?”

“It is fine, dear Twilight, I can gather more before the moon’s first light.”

“Thanks Zecora, what does that paragraph say?” Twilight asked, pointing to writing in the bottom corner of the page.

“It is the expected results of the concoction, merely stating the effects in motion. Although it shows a pony, it affects a number of creatures; the flow in this picture is the changing of features.” She pointed to the red river that wrapped around the pony before moving off to collect her ingredients.

“I must ask my good friend, what would need a disguise, and to what end?”

“Oh, well, let’s say these creatures are famous and really don’t want the attention. A lot of ponies would want to be friends with them and a few may want to hurt them as well.” Twilight replied, still making assumptions from the book.

“What creature would be liked and welcomed by you? Another question would be why they’d be hated too?” Zecora reached for an olive coloured flask, unhooking the string before pouring a pinch of the substance into the cauldron.

“Strange, you have not considered magic; I suspected such a response to be automatic,” she added, giving a suspicious stare.

“We have tried, but even Celestia and Luna’s combined magic does not have any effect on them, it’s like their immune. However, when one of them was hurt we used your healing lotion and it healed him completely. We think it’s because their skin stops magic passing through and changing them, but your lotion was absorbed through. It’s quite interesting actually.” Twilight beamed a pleasant smile at Zecora, who was already up to the brewing stage.

Zecora let out a small chuckle.

“Ever the curious mare, so I see. Tell me, what do these odd creatures want to be?” She added a spoonful of heart shaped, and coloured, petals, before scanning a shelf nearby. “The potion also needs a few things from you guests; some fur or hair would be best.” She looked back at the mare with a smile. “Now tell me Twilight, what are they to be? A pegasus, unicorn, or earth pony?”

“Oh, well…” she paused, pondering about her next course of action. “Well. One of them wants to be a unicorn, err, Zecora?” Zecora had returned to the cauldron, depositing some blue powder before stopping to look at the mare expectantly.

“Can you affect the way they look? He wants to be a teal coloured unicorn,” There was another pause as Twilight bit her lip slightly, “With a snow blizzard, blue mane and sapphire eyes and a chiselled horn.” She pulled a large, innocent smile before saying, “It’s just that that is what he asked me to tell you. He said he wants to be teal stallion with a light blue mane and sapphire eyes, maybe a bit bigger than me. Yes, that’s what he said.”

Zecora shook her head, before bringing a hoof to her chin. “The colour of fur is not up to us to decide; that magic is in the potion, where it resides.” Twilight looked slightly disheartened, but quickly dismissed the thought. “Now Twilight Sparkle, listen closely. For as it is written, I need to know what species they be.” Twilight hesitated; such knowledge was best not being shared, unless circumstance required it, which it did.

“They are-“ she started out, before scrunching her face up. She released a sigh, earning a curious look from the alchemist. Twilight inhaled deeply, before unleashing an outburst like a breached dam. “Theguestsarereallivehumans!”

Taken back, Zecora merely blinked before she stopped stirring the violet mixture. “That was quite a mouthful, my dear, I must say though that none of it had reached my ear.”

“Look, Zecora, my guests are… humans.” Twilight winced upon stating this fact, slamming her eyes such as she leaned away from the zebra. There was an awkward silence, followed by a small giggling noise. Taking a sneak peek, she spied the witch doctor tittering to herself.

“You believe to have found a creature of tribal lore? Tell me, Twilight, why have I not seen them before?”

“Well, wait, why did you say tribal?”

“It is an old tale, that of a hairless chimp; they can be dangerous or like a mischievous imp. I am certain they are the stuff of idle imaginings; nopony, no griffon, nor dragon, has ever seen such beings.”

What soon followed was a debate, or rather a negotiation. Zecora’s firm belief she had wasted ingredients was not only confronted by the mare opposite her, but also by the reputation of said librarian; Twilight has never, to her knowledge, fabricated such a poor tale and attempted to pass it of a genuine fact, especially in the name of science.

Still there was the matter of creating, as she found out, four potions to turn them into three separate species of ponies. However, perhaps that would be the proof Twilight needed.

Zecora sighed, regretting ever attempting to reason with one whose debating skills were honed sharper than any blade. “You say they are real, yet bring no proof. If I were to see for myself, I could offer a hoof.” The thought didn’t seem entirely unreasonable, given Twilight could persuade her not to reveal the identity of the stallions to anypony else.

“Do you promise not to tell anypony else?” Zecora gave a single nod in response, beaming a smile.

“Pinkie promise?” the purple unicorn asked, frowning from the other side of the cauldron. Small grey bubbles ascended from the foamy mixture, bursting between the two and releasing a small hint of daisy into the atmosphere.

“Cross my heart, hope to fly. Stick a cupcake in my eye.” Zecora replied, miming the correct actions to the Party Pony’s oath.

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“Forgive me, Frank, but I just don’t understand; tell me again, what is are these human- I mean ‘humares’ or ‘bronies’” Albert said curiously, not taking his eyes of the phantom. He had been subtly watching his movement, eyeing the way Shadowman would stay from being between Hank, the basement, or the kitchen.

“They appear to be a cult, or rather a ‘community as Miss Sparkle pointed out. Some use our lives, our misadventures, to help them through their daily toils. We seem to inspire many and,” he said before breathing between his teeth. “Create an unimaginable hatred in those who deem us deadly, corrupting, and a down right abomination to this land’s animation department.” Frank looked at Albert, grinning.

“I for one think we add a little class and spice to their daily lives, given that many bronies and humares are introverts. So these ‘haters’- yes, that’s their name- seem to spend time focusing on us, the people they hate, by watching episodes and finding flaws, or by writing atrocities like that book. Whether they hate us or love us, they can’t seem to get enough.” Albert blinked a couple of times, Frank watching the wheels spin in his mind.

“What a strange culture. The both love to hate us and hate to love us, and yet they cannot resist us. I feel as though we’re both idols and yet carry some form of plague to be purged by flame.”

“You’d be surprised how often the phrase ‘Kill it! Kill it with fire!’” Frank quoted dramatically, feigning utter disgust before returning to his calm composure to say, “cropped up in my research.”

“Perhaps we can inquire if the others are, err, members?” Albert replied, both proposing the question as a whole and to whether or not that last word was suited. The phrase ‘Fanatically, crazed, stalkers’ sprung to mind to describe the events of the day before.

“Well, I have found out that our hostess is one, but I doubt we have anything to fear; she has a level head and a resourceful mind.” He leant back against the wall, propping a leg up to flatten his foot against it. “She also has a good sense of humour.”

Albert gave a sly grin, arching an eyebrow. “Seems familiar to an old flame you once had, an avid reader and experimenter too judging by the basement equipment.” His friend blanched in response, generating a small chuckle from the prince.

“I prefer my women like I prefer bike: bipedal.” It was now his turn to grin. “Besides, at least I have done something with a woman, even if I can count using one hand the number of times.” The ferocious stare of his leader was met by the flushed red cheeks residing below those ice blue eyes.

“Oh, yes, I went there.”

“You better back pedal, or else I tell Hank about the time you were drunk… with Mrs Digigdum, from the Eastern Province.” Frank paled, his eyes darting about.

“So the little dragon, Maria!” he exclaimed, grinning as Albert nodded slowly.

“That’s what I thought.” He spoke with pure authority, laced with the intention of a cruel executioner. After his expression softened, he said “The name of the assistant is Spike, and is he a humare?”

“Well, technically he would be a brony, you know, being a male and all. However, he is not. Twilight mentioned that sometimes he couldn’t watch us if we were about to do something violent, or as I pointed out, ‘righteous and noble.’” He smirked, earning a similar response. “As for the others he was sent to retrieve, I am certain that the pegasus is a humare, as well as the indigo princess.” Once again, he cracked sly smirk.

“The other princess, however, I caught…taking an interest in you. I guess you had to find a princess eventually, and all it took was for her to see you and for you to never talk to her.” He leant closer. “Unfortunately for her, you have already spoken to the Princess so it’s only a matter of time before you muck up.”

“You two gonna keep blabbering about being stuck in here, or are you actually gonna figure out why that book did what it did years ago?” Hank chided, stepping out of the kitchen.

Instinctively, Shadowman leapt into the air, clutching the railing as he walked past. The ground bound trio gawked at his sudden movement, watching as he swung himself over and casually began searching amongst another bookcase.

“It’s spooked him again, hasn’t it?” Hank asked, rubbing his hands together. He gave guilty look at his knuckles, pretending to wash away some invisible stain.

“It-it doesn’t look as bad as last time.” Frank offered, cracking half a smile.

“Aye, at least he’s not catatonic… or constantly trying to murder you whilst you sleep, Hank.” Albert added, still studying the trench-coated figure. The titan nodded, bringing a hand on top of his vest where a few scars remained hidden underneath.

“By standards alone, this is a far better reaction.” Frank added confidently, allowing the smile to cover his face.

“Yeah, remember the first day? He actually screamed.” Hank added, recalling the voice. It wasn’t enough to apply to an imaginary conversation with the mute, but it gave volume to the interpreted, mimed actions of the assassin. “How long was he, err…”

“Traumatised? By your cooking?” Frank said receiving an elbow to his chest from the prince before Hank could embed him into the wall with a single blow.

“Well, yeah.”

“I believe it was for four months; he often kept to himself, complaining about nightmares, visions; all of the finest psychiatrists said he experienced ghost pains. Four months.” Albert shook his head, grimacing at how Shadowman would often sneak around the castle, disappearing for days, and at one point and entire week before willing to be seen again. “For four months he was brought to the edge of insanity, and we never knew why.”

“Hank,” wheezed the younger sibling, “have you read the book?”

“I-I- I couldn’t get past the chapter called ‘Haggis’.” He wretched slightly, his breathing became ragged slightly. “Is that-is that what he was seeing? All the time? Me? Doing all of THAT to him?”

“I’m afraid so.” Albert said with deep melancholy. “You didn’t see the story he wrote, in an attempt to give me a vague idea, afterwards he suddenly recovered. It was the simplest form of that story, it lacked the adjectives but apparently the words on those pages are the best summary we have to coming close.” He gave a saddened look towards Shadow, catching the man glimpse over his shoulder.

Hank made his way over towards the table, where the pages of the book remained. Due to the hole in the center of the page parts of the story were incomplete; often the victim’s colleagues, and alleged butcherer, were thankful to not have the scene completely described to them.

Picking up the book, his grip hardening enough to slightly tear pages one to three, he strolled back with a look hate burning in his eyes. “Frank,” he said as he held the book against his brother’s chest, “I need you to find out who wrote this.”

“Already taken care of; we’re looking for a Trixie Lulamoon,” he glanced back towards the diarch, who had stoic expression, “an apparent anti-brony.”

Albert raised his chin, remaining silent as he continued to listen in. Looking back at Hank, the trim man continued with, “Hank, I understand that you probably want to settle this… as you usually would-“

“Damn right.”

“Hank, you must listen to reason,” Albert interjected; his tone was calm and collected. “I understand you must be upset-“

“That’s a fucking understatement.” Hank remarked harshly, immediately backing down as he looked down at the glaring prince. “Begging your pardon, sorry… Sir.”

“That’s alright, as I was going to say, we are all rather disturbed that these creatures can influence our homeland, and that some would write such fiction. However, we must take into consideration how they would react if we were to suddenly attack the inhabitants of this land.” Before Hank could voice his colourful opinion, Albert continued.

“But do not think justice is not an option, this…mare?” he gave Frank a confused look, to which he replied with a hesitant nod before shrugging. “She will answer for almost driving Shadow to insanity, but I’d rather we keep the peace until a suitable punishment is put forward.” He arched an eyebrow towards the human tank.

“We don’t want a repeat of Handsterdan.”

“I was only messing around with those guys.” Hank replied, with a wave of his hand.

“Twelve accounts of grievous bodily harm, over two hundred thousand coins worth of property damage, sixteen accounts of arson, anything else Albert?” Frank sniped, grinning at his ruler.

“A bank robbery where none of the currency was recovered.” He paused to grin at the giant. “On the plus side, I heard many of the lesser off seemed rather dapper with some of the clothing they suddenly bought, and the estate agencies seemed to have sold a few houses.”

“I guess it wasn’t all bad that day,” Hank remarked, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m surprised you cleared those charges.”

“I did it because you seemed good at heart, and were simply misguided. I knew I could show you how to use your abilities for a better cause.” He watched Hank and Frank share a look, the elder giving a nod to show his gratitude. “Also, you were lucky that when you two took separate paths after high school, he wound up working in my castle.”

“Yeah, wish I stayed back at home, but that gang really wanted to move to a less lawful part of Primane.” Hank replied with another rub of his shoulder blade. “So what now?” he asked, looking to Albert.

“Frank, were there any stories about us, because I admit I have seen a few… visions.” He frowned at the book in said person’s hand. “Although mine have not been as dark or as sinister.”

“Actually,” Frank grinned deviously at the man, causing him to feel a sense of dread engulf his gut. “Theirs is one called ‘The Prince and I’ and it’s a romance adventure novel.” Whilst Frank repressed a powerful urge to howl with laughter at the sight of his majesty paling, Hank’s brow returned to that default frown of his.

“You mean him?” Hank pointed towards the horrified man, “The Prince?”

“Me,” Albert started, weakly pointing towards himself, “and a pony?” Frank completely lost it at this point. He clenched his gut as he cried with laughter, bending over in an attempt to aid his catch his breath between snorts.

When he was finally done, between deep breaths, he said “Oh, but don’t worry, it was between the same species.” Albert’s expression subsided into less of a terrified revelation and to more of an uneasy discovery. “Where you were an Alicorn and she was a unicorn.” He chuckled after the prince gave himself a once over, trying to imagine himself as similarly to Celestia. Once he finished, he held a small look of embarrassment as he spoke up.

“Well, I suppose I should be flattered. Who wrote this story?” he asked, receiving another diabolic smirk from Frank. “If you continue to think, or say, anything remotely suggestive, I’ll personally feed you to your humare fans.” Hank chuckled deeply as the younger sibling’s expression darkened. “And that’s a royal oath.”

“Somepony named Tea Slice created the story, and took the community by storm. In fact, much like another tragic story about a pony raising our mute comrade from birth, only to have him taken away by you, the story has generated a few spin offs on something they call the ‘Ponynet.”

“Ponynet? Really?” deadpanned Hank.

“I wouldn’t care too much; this world is one big pun.” Frank sighed, but returned focus to the Prince. “Anyway, if you want to see those we need access to a computer, and Twilight doesn’t have one.” Frank mulled over this, before shrugging with a grin. “Then again a majority of the research on the Primane wide net comes from books and journals, so living in a library is actually more beneficial.”

“What about those friends you made?” the titan asked, folding his arms. In response, Hank gave a curious glance, eyeing him up and down before replying.

“I was about to get to that. We could walk around when we’re ponies, well as much as we can without looking too much like we’re marionettes operated by a six year old. I’m sure we can persuade them to use theirs, I think I heard Octavia say something about having one of the latest.” Frank said, reminiscing whilst looking towards the ceiling. Albert nodded, smiling brightly.

“So it’s settled, as soon as we can, we find a way to the pony net. We’ll be in disguised, you are already on friendly terms of the residents of the household; the wonders of the ponynet will be revealed, as would the truth about this community and it tie to us. We’ll see what exactly these humares and bronies think about us and also what tributes they have.” He shrugged and gave the uncertainlooking Hank a reassuring grin.

“What’s the worst we could find on the internet, Hank?”

“Ask him.” The group followed Hank’s finger, spotting Shadowman standing against the wall behind Albert.

“Tell us, what is the worst that we could find?” Hank asked the new arrival. The blank, cryptic stare offered no answer, but the gesture towards the remains of the book had a clear meaning.

“Hello, Twilight? Are you in here?” a feminine voice cried out, startling the squad. Each member’s eyes snapped to the entrance, where the door opened. Time slowed to a halt, igniting a spark in Albert. Acting on instinct he pulled his team mates towards the basement door, flinging it open. Albert, Hank, and Frank managed to get downstairs before the front entrance opened up.

Shadow on the other hand had already disappeared.

“Twilight? Spike? You guys in here?” a mint mare asked, strolling through the library. The warm, pinecone scented air was embracing in comparison the bitter wind, nipping at her ears and fur. Her eyes scanned the room as she stood in the center waiting for a response. When none came, she moved towards the center table, where something dull and metallic rested.

With her curiosity peaked, and her thoughts drifting back to last night, she crept towards the strange artifact. Sitting by the table, her horn lit up as the sheet of armour was lifted up for closer inspection. Lyra spied the engraved emblem; an Excalibur sword with wings sprouting across the upper half. The sense of déjà vu consumed her, especially with the help of the singe running along the right hand side as well as a few dents scattered across the abdomen.

Then it hit her like a ton of bricks.

With an ecstatic gasp, she made contact with the chest plate. Sliding a hoof along the sword’s edge, feeling the surface of the armour, she beamed a smile.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed, bringing the large plate to her chest in a tight embrace. It covered a good portion of her form, but there it only came to two thirds of the way. “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!” She began swinging it around, practically dancing with it on her hind hooves across the library floor. She had an idea, a humare’s wish.

Eagerly, she slipped on the piece of armour and attempted to fasten the straps. She wound up fidgeting about, squirming on the floor whilst fiddling with the metal buckles. She wormed her way over towards the door-frame, her horn aglow as the straps took on new life. She thumped her head against the still open door, stunning her temporally. As her eyes spun their sockets, she caught a glimpse of something in rafters.

It seemed dark, almost out of place by the way it was lying across a beam in a shadowy corner. The strange contortion was minor, similar to the bulge of the tree that wasn’t trimmed off. It seemed to be a plausible explanation, until she spotted something reflective plummet towards her.

The glimmer of the midday sun bounced of the blade's surface as it headed towards her chest. Flinching, she covered her eyes, awaiting her demise. It made contact; bouncing of the dulled, steel protective coating, the dagger embedded itself into the floorboard.

Taking a second to peek at the serrated blade, her eyes immediately shot up to a strange carved beam.

Her eyes widened as she the straight, smooth, plank of wood that stretched to the center of the Library She could have sworn the slightly misshapen beam was directly above her, and yet it seemed to have corrected its composure. Controlled by fear, she climbed to all four hooves, and backed away until she was standing outside the library.

“H-H-hello?” she stammered, eyeing up the empty library. Still no answer but there were signs of movement. More importantly, she had evidence for her claim about the existence of her favourite characters. Could she leave the mystery of the library, the potential resting place of the world’s first humans, simply to generate a reaction of disbelief from her roommate? Then again, could she risk what lurked in the shadows? There was no doubt that something was in the room. In fact, it may have just made an attempt on her life.

The truth was dangerous, and remained enshrouded amongst the rafters. The evidence offered a glimpse into what was hidden, but could easily be distorted and ridiculed as a fan-mare’s fanatical attempt to lie to the masses. Albeit, it would be a solid, borderline plausible belief, the fact that many have replicated the authentic piece coating her body would greatly hinder her case.

Standing there, meters away from the door, Lyra came to a decision.

She would venture deeper into the library, even against Twilight’s wishes…

But she would not be alone…

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Author's Notes:

Lyra is now armoured... be afraid, be very afraid. I've been dying to get this concept across, about how popular fanfiction can affect their mind. As you may have guessed Celestia may calm down, then again, why the hell should she?

Quick question, how long do you prefer your chapters? I planned on sticking to around the 6-7 mark, but I feel as though I can move onto around 9k a chapter. What do you guys think?

P.s. may need art for the future chapters. I should mention now that I cannot pay for it though. PM if you are willing to help with a few pictures.

Shout out to Recovery 565 for being able to proof read my story for a third time ladies and gentleman. Thanks.

Chapter 9: Of mares and men.

Shadow maintained that face palm as he sat upon the rafters. The mare had long since left, taking Albert’s regalia with her and he had made the foolish error of not checking how secure his blades were. His trench coat draped from his crouched form, hanging over one side of the support beam. Casting a neutral stare at the blade standing in front of the entrance, he lowered his arms to grasp the beam.

Swinging down, allowing the inertia to propel him forwards, he let go mid-air to spin around before grasping the beam once more. On the return swing, he kicked the tip of the front entrance, slamming it shut before he plummeted towards the floor. With a silent landing, his coat splaying out, he remained crouching beside the small dagger.

Uprooting the throwing knife, he gave it a quick twirl before sheathing it, chiding himself further for allowing such an amateur error to ever happen. He strolled towards the basement door. Dusting off his signature attire, the phantom rapped on the door three times, pausing briefly, and then knocked twice.

“YOU’LL NEVER TAKE US ALIVE!” was all he heard, stunning him with his most expressive look of the morning: two sky rocketing eyebrows. Before he could respond, the door swung open, pressing him against the wall.

Hank barrel rolled out, his black boots kicking up a table as he self-righted. With a boxer’s defensive stance, he scanned the room, waiting for a tribe of traitorous equines to holler primitive chants with spears and torches.

“Truth be told, dying didn’t seem to work out well last time, Hank. I don’t dare think what awaits us in the next afterlife. Perhaps a higher plane of existence?” Frank remarked ponderously, dusting his denim jacket. Upon reaching his pale jeans, he spotted a pair of laces reaching out from beneath the door.

“I believe it would be best to never know, Frank. Dying is neither a pleasant nor beneficial habit to make.” The prince trudged upstairs, rubbing his shoulder from where he had landed at the bottom of the staircase. With his armour gone, his sapphire attire collected a few tears from the descent into the basement. His left sleeves was half missing, currently being pressed against his blonde parted locks to stem the bleeding of a small cut. Sanguine droplets hung to the collar of the white shirt underneath the flame retardant, fashionable jacket.

After following Frank’s line of sight, both Hank and Albert focused on the door. When all three stood before it, they heard a slow knock. Hank reached out towards the door, priming his other hand into a fist in case of trouble. After landing his hand on the door side, and looking towards his leader, he awaited for further orders. He watched the genius and the prince back off, both of them stopping at the base of the stairs.

After a curt nod, he swiftly twisted his hand to grip the side of the door, casting it aside in one swift movement. Upon the door closing at lightning speed, the shock wave of the slam caused an imprinted figure to flinch.

The others shared a grimace, before giving Hank a harsh glare. He rubbed the back of his neck, staring off into the corner of the room with a small frown. Seconds after opening his mouth, the bipedal ghost slumped out of the wall mounted crater, going to his knees as his head swirled. After briefly looking as if he was going to pass out, a slither of crimson escaping his thin nose, his head suddenly swung up before settling gently into its rightful resting position. Frank cautiously stepped forward.

“Err, I thought we went through this, no matter how hard you try, no matter how many experiments I do, it is impossible for you to be as thin as an actual shadow, Shadow,” he remarked, waving his hands in front of his colleague’s shades. “Don’t make me get the shoehorn again,” he threatened, poking him gently in shoulder. Like a black domino, he collapsed backwards, his legs folded back against his sides until they were packed against his thighs.

Albert blinked in disbelief, he knew of his friend’s legendary flexibility, but he had never seen him so perfectly horizontal in such a rather uncomfortable position… on his back at least. Frank simply pointed at the point of impact, staring between his finger and his unconscious friend, his mind contemplating a curious thought in his head. Hank winced at the sight, but at least he knew why the assassin was so good a limbo.

After a brief pause, Frank rose up and hooked his finger as if it were a question mark, before pressing it against his upper lip. His frown was directed at the half folded squad mate, then to his beastly brother, and then it switched to his ruler. After scratching his scalp he finally spoke up.

“Do ponies have shoehorns?” Frank asked, igniting movement in the other two. Albert chuckled, rolling his eyes as he squatted next to his fallen comrade, whereas Hank growled when he clipped his brother’s ear.

“Shit, he should have said som-” Hank cut himself off, slowly closing his jaw. Whilst his expression recoiled slowly into guilt, Frank’s eyebrow peaked, as did his fanged grin.

“I know, it’s so rude, sneaking up on us like. It’s like he’s an assassin or something.”

“Can we please return to the matter at hand?” Albert chided, releasing an exasperated sigh shortly afterwards. Rolling up the sleeve of the trench coat, the rough exterior a startling contrast to the warm, silky inside, he unclipped the wrist blades, and then he pulled up the skin tight arm of his shirt and searched for a pulse. With a tiny sigh of relief, returned the articles of clothing to their rightful position.

“Well, he’s breathing and alive. It’s a wonder you didn’t send his nose into his skull.” Albert noted, inspecting the busted nose. Gingerly, he squeezed Shadow’s nose between his finger and thumb, careful not to do any more damage. After a very brief exam he gave a Hank a smile. “Have no fear, it is not broken but I suspect it will be rather crooked for a while.”

“Alright,” Hank replied glumly, folding his hands as he watched his prince rise. He noticed Albert wince as he reapplied the torn sleeve to his head. As Hank eloquently put it, Prince Albert, Diarch of the third empire, father of the land, ruler of the Primane… looked like horse crap.

His hair, slightly stained with blood on his right side, had lost its partial blonde shine. Now it was a rather dirty gold colour; a similar story with the gold threads in his jacket, now merely worn and coming out of the seams. A shadow of facial hair was starting to sprout, barely noticeable unless one looked close enough.

Hank agreed that he look no better. His bullet proof vest was saturated in a foul odour; his arms had scattered patches of dust, collected from his sleep in the basement; his flat, oak toned crew cut had retained its signature look, but also speckles of dirt from his ‘awakening’ and traversing the road. Splinter, much to his relief, was fine and sterile… as possible given the circumstance. The spoon was happily tucked away on a reinforced pocket, level with his heart. That wooden utensil was going nowhere fast.

He gave his younger sibling a quick once over, spotting the worn out theme returning. His once emerald shirt, buttoned and perfectly tailored, had lost single button in the center alongside a chest pocket. His jeans were torn, then again, he only wore his current pair for ‘field work’ and even that was a desk job traversing cyberspace. His pointed chin held a faint grass stain, the origins of which he refused to recall. His ghostly eyes had dark rings underneath, and yet he showed no sign of fatigue.

Hank smirked, looking back at Shadow as he chalked that quality down as a genetic trait.

This man, despite rockiest the rocky of beginnings, had become a close friend. Yet, his past remained a mystery in all the years he knew him. His mistrust in strangers led Frank to keep a watchful eye on rouge assassin, and rather than discover any new plots to trim the royal family tree, he found subtle signs that indicated Shadow’s mood towards anything.

The short spikey hair, much like needles of sharpened onyx, covered his scalp. The pointed ears aided in the predatorial look of the man, an effect amplified by his shadowy attire. With the soft features beneath those slick shades, the giant could only think, no, believe that his entire body was sculpted for speed and precision. Hank, admittedly, was rather jealous of his friend’s condition; he seemed no worse for wear… given you look past the trail of blood escaping his nostril and his current resting position.

Albert readjusted the comatosed man’s shades, aligning them properly on his nose before he stood up. His vibrant blue eyes shifted about the room, assessing the situation. With renewed vigour, he pointed to Hank. With a tone of authority, he said sternly to the titan, “Get him cleaned up and lay him upon Miss Sparkle’s bed. I am sure she will understand.”

Whilst the behemoth gave a quick salute, Albert turned to face the tech support who was still pondering over the possibility of shoehorns in small mumbles.

“Carry the three… and it’s more than likely an eight-point-nine percent chance, unless they use the metric system when making horse shoes.”

“Frank?” Albert asked, maintaining that commanding voice. The recipient blinked a few times, scowling at thin air as he lost track of his mental calculations. The pony-tailed man watched his brother ascend the staircase, his ragged boots generating a painful squeak of wooden steps. “I want you to research this land’s culture and social norms, we may need it for when we leave the premises as ponies,” Albert continued, also watching as Shadow was carried upstairs. He was slumped over his giant friend’s shoulder like a fresh kill. The prince paused to blink at how nonchalant he had conversed about changing species.

Frank returned with a soft nod of agreement seconds before saying, “I’ll get right on it, what about you?”

“I’m going to get more of that healing balm, and then I going to find my breast plate then take first shift. We must make sure nobody -or pony I guess- catches us off guard again by strolling in. When Hank is finished with Shadow, he’s getting a bath.”

“Yeah, if the normal equines don’t find him, the waste disposal ponies will smell us first.”

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She had it all.

Swivelling heads; the eyes of her colleagues absorbed the eye candy that strolled past them as a combination of mint, white, and dulled silver. Wanderlust consumed her as her hooves simply directed her around town to show off her newest piece of attire: a, to some members of the public, rather iconic armour piece. Awe engulfed the closet humares whilst bronies cautiously edged towards the trotting mare, her protective covering rustling with every pronounced step. Grinning, she simply kept her head high, her eyes closed as she inhaled the attention.

She decided that rather than simply charging around, collecting as many as followers as possible, she would let them come to her. Her plot was to wait for a few humares- or if she was lucky, a few stallions- to confirm the authenticity of the breast plate, before embellishing the truth.

It seemed better than zipping around yelling, “HUMANS IN THE LIBRARY!” at the top of her voice.

Finally, after coming to a halt outside of a quaint, little coffee shop, she glanced over her shoulder. A small platoon of humares had followed her, alongside one or two colts. She gave them a smug smile, strolling into the outside portion of the café. She made herself comfortable upon a lavender mushroom, flicking her mane with a hoof. She studied said hoof, seeming to e oblivious to the hushed murmurs surrounding her.

Whispers spread like wild fire. What was the common questions on everypony’s lips? “Is that Prince Albert’s armour?”

“It looks so real! Where did she get it?”

“Were those rumours of humans here in Ponyville true?”

“Where can I get one?”

The waiter, complete with velvet red waistcoat, a blonde mane to match his cream coat, pranced over with a white cloth draped over his back. Without so much as opening his eyes, he started to speak.

“Hi, can I take your order?” he chirped. After finally opening his eyes, he cocked an eyebrow at the amount of equines staring at the mare. The crowd held a few recognisable faces, such a Roseluck, a regular currently with her jaw hanging as she gawked at the mint mare before him.

“And your friends?” he asked, glancing down at her. Another peculiar sight; it seemed his new focal point was wearing some form of improvised royal armour, somewhat lacking in colour but the dents and singed scratch marks gave it an ancient appeal. He briefly pondered if Lyra had brought a relic belonging to her ancient ancestors, but before he could inquire, she spoke up.

“Err, I’m not buying for all of these guys, I only wanted lavender and crushed rose sandwich. They can pay for themselves.” She gave him soft giggle, watching him smile in return before backing away.

“Certainly, I’ll be right back with your order.” Although he had a merry attitude, she could sense the suspicious aura that hung in the air as he turned to head into the café.

Lyra hummed one of her own musical pieces, a tune both inviting and uplifting. The notes came in rapid succession as she tilted her head gently from side to side, before drawing out to a peaceful, lullaby-like, chorus of pitches. The crowd came to sound of her tune, similar to sailors answering a siren’s call. Although had she had her signature lyre, then they would have waited until the performance was finished.

“Lyra?” A soft voice came from her side, causing the mare to reveal her amber eyes to the source. A baby blue pegasus with a lavender mane, her own magenta eyes scanning the armour, continued to speak. “Is that a replica of Prince Albert’s armour?” She casted a fascinated look at the breastplate, a smile rapidly sprouting. “It look so real, you even got the dent from when Albert was hit by Razor Tongue’s tail!”

The crowd gave murmur in agreement, many quoting a famous brony meme.

“Not one for manners are they? Didn’t even give us a chance to settle our differences, man to drake,” one would quote in a regal accent.

“I’ll get the fifty cal,” the rest would drone. A few giggles were heard where as many, including the baby blue pegasus, facehoofed.

“So, Lyra,” Roseluck interjected, standing beside the pegasus, “Where did you get it?”

“Yeah, where can I buy one?” A colt edged out of the crowd, soon followed by another and another.

“Did you make it yourself?” inquired one humare.

“Is Hot Topic making these? Where is he?” asked another.

“Is it real White star alloy? Forged from the remains of the asteroid that landed at the founding of the Primanian empire?” jested unicorn stallion, thumping the armour. After generating a solid clang, he cocked an eyebrow, sharing an exchange of surprised glances with his colleagues.

After a barrage of questions, unnerving Lyra slightly, she finally spoke up.

“Everypony,” she began with a raised voice. The crowd’s part-inquiry-part-fan-rant was quelled, forming a deafening silence. Everypony was waiting for with intense curiosity, expecting her to reveal the location of the manufacturer of perhaps the most authentic piece of brony cos-play they had ever seen.

What they got instead was, somewhat, difficult to take in.

“I discovered this piece of armour in the Library, and-”

“Twilight’s now selling brony merchandise? Sweet!”

“No,” Lyra replied with an exasperated sigh, “I was going to say that this is actual armour. As in it is really Prince Albert’s chest piece.” The crowd paused, blinking in unison. The mint mare bit her lip; the word awkward sprang to mind, than was buried rapidly under more suitable phrases. Most of which she could read on the faces of those before her. Never the less, she pressed on.

Gulping audibly, she gave a nervous giggle before talking once more. “Okay everypony remembers yesterday right? The whole ‘human fiasco’? Right?” she said hastily, earning a few slow nods from her audience.

“So, last night I heard that Frank and Hank were running around- I thought it was some kind of, you know, a little Poyvillian brony-con or something and Titan strong was in town- anyway, I was out late at night and guess who I ran into?” she asked Roseluck directly, who shifted her eyes about.

With an uneasy tone, she said, “Well… I wasn’t there, but I guess you ran into, Titan?”

“No even better!” Lyra exclaimed, getting of her stool. She hopped onto the café table, or rather a large red mushroom with white speckles. The fungus wobbled slightly, but she stood tall and proud in her armour. The light of Celestia’s glory managed to bounce of the areas that were not totally covered in dirt and dust. With breeze enrolling through the town at that perfect moment, her mane was swept aside, flowing above and determined glare aimed at the crowd.

“I met Frank, and after hearing what happened yesterday, I know other ponies had as well!” she proclaimed, pointing at the rest of the public. Beyond this little herd of humares, the rest of civilisation looked on either amused and walking by, or curious and remaining just along the fringe; a few were merely scowled, hardly amused by this little tribe’s antics.

The humares began whispering amongst themselves, the bronies joining in. The rustle of the small gathering was once again interrupted, this time by a timid somepony to the right of Lyra.

“I-I- Saw Hank… And Albert… And the others.” A voice called out, catching everypony’s eye. The group stared at a green earth pony, her hoof massaging her neck. She bit her lip harder, eyes darting around to read the others’ reaction.

“I did too,” a pegasus stepped forth, his emerald eyes fixated the green mare. “I kind of chased Shadowman for a while, but damn was he quick. Not that we couldn’t keep up with him, but he was too agile. He really is a good as he is shown in that show.”

“So I am not the only one who ran into a human.” Lyra chirped, clopping her hooves together. “See? I wasn’t crazy! Now we need to find them!” Whilst the audience generally agreed with the notion, somepony announced their concerns.

“Won’t that be dangerous? I mean, between Hank and Shadowman they could probably raid the town.” That comment was all that was needed. A stallion on the edge of the small army glanced at his colleagues, or rather the ones he knew were non-bronies. With his eyes wide and his navy hair standing on end, he gave a worried glance at a beige unicorn.

He gave curt nod in return, before repeating a gesture to multiple times to a few others. He soon backed away, a group of eleven in tow.

“Not if we go together, besides, when have they ever attacked without reason,” somepony retorted.

“What about season four when Frank declared war on the Archinavi? He was posing as Albert’s brother when he kind of committed a war crime in front of the queen of the bugs.”

“That was by accident, he didn’t know his squished a spider under his cup.”

“Still counts as murder!”

“It wasn’t so bad until he started beating the big bug back with an empty can of bug spray.”

“Season one: Shadowman runs away with that Cyclops’s pet rhino, when really he was trying to return it. That fat thing really liked him.”

“You kind of shot down your own point there. They did eventually return it.”

With a merry grin, she turned her back on the crowd, all of whom were either trying to prove the peaceful nature of the small squad or forever brand the men with the barbaric nature of humans.

It was not an uncommon topic of discussion, humare or hater.

“Okay, now they believe me, all I have to do is get them all to the library and I- we will prove that humans exist!” She chuckled madly, smoothing her hooves over. “And Frank will give me what I want.” Her armour jingled slightly as she continued to giggle, until she was disturbed by Roseluck.

“Okay, Lyra, we’re going to check out the library, maybe get a few autographs. Are you coming?”

“Yes!” She stood on her hind hooves, her forehoof waving about to get everypony’s attention. “Listen up everypony,” she commanded, earning complete focus, “We are going up against the unknown, we are the few, the proud, the humares!”

“Ahem.” Lyra’s eye caught sight of a frowning colt in her peripheral vision.

“And Bronies! We have been given an important task,” she declared, resuming her natural position. Once again, the mushroom table she stood on shook, bending further than before. The company of ponies were listening intently to the armoured equine; it was either her speaking ability or that armour that seemed to give her a natural aura of leadership.

“We must, for the sake of Equestria, prove the existence of humans in this world. If we can show the world that Prince Albert exists, we would have proven that Primane is real. We would be establishing connection with technologically advanced civilisation!”

“And proving that Haspony is part of a secret society that is containing the Equestrian Empire in order to earn financial gain!” A silence soon followed that comment, as did a single tumble weed. The conspiracy theory hung heavy in the air, so much so, that it had to be dragged away by Lyra returning to her speech.

“Err, okay,” Lyra replied, slightly shaken by the random outburst.

“Treason!” the voice cried once more.

“Anyway,” the unicorn replied, bewilderment laced in her tone. “Now, we must ensure the safety of the Prince and his heroes, and safely escort them to the Princess!” The crowd began announcing their support, her determination rubbing off onto them.

She jumped on the mushroom, landing back onto the fungus in a pouncing position. She wobbled vigorously before she stopped being an aqua blur.

“Alright, let’s move out now!”

“Yeah!”

“Err, Lyra?”

Snapping out of her power hungry state of mind, she looked beside her, spotting the waiter. He had a white plate clenched between his teeth, a lovely, sweet smelling sandwich resting peacefully upon it. “Your meal,” he added. As if on cue, her stomach rumbled, sending vibrations across her chest piece’s surface.

“Correction, we move out after lunch!” was her final order before the toadstool she stood upon snapped, throwing her to the floor along with it.

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Discipline. Not only of the body but the mind and soul.

It is difficult at times, being punishment’s chew toy, but this crafted spirit had endured long enough to see the goal at the end of the serrated tunnel. It wasn’t as if he was always the victim, never always beaten by fate, both literally and figuratively.

He had his new duty, one that co-existed with his original ideals of perfect harmony: Protect the Prince, in turn, protect the innocent.

Dark paths had led him towards both poisoning the crown Albert wore for his usual appearances; the bullet aimed at his own skull was only ever kept a bay when he attempted to slide a blade across the Princes’ throat; with hands tied back, he had to resort to numerous crimes, and not just assassinating the ruler of Primane.

He had to keep her safe, unfortunately meaning that others had to die. Not that everybody was pure of heart, but some were never the less kind hearted.

It angered him, a fact only displayed by the numerous broken daggers that were littered around his safe house in the capital.

So when he had the chance to redeem himself, more importantly a chance to save… her… he graciously accepted.

It was his first choice of a brand new awakening, a new life, a rebirth, a chance to right the wrongs with justice and his skill.

As was the moment Shadowman’s mind returned to a groggy form, dragging a dull ache in his thighs and nose. Even with the accustomed pain of a productive morning’s research, the previous day’s bruises shining through, the man currently laying upon the bed had his mind kicking into high gear.

He had two options, two choices he often faced a couple a times a month, always to restore justice.

Does he march downstairs and break both of Hank’s arms in five separate places, or does his simply impale his hands to his crotch? It seemed reasonable; the titan was responsible for his fourth busted nose of the month, and both options were viable seeing as that magical balm rested somewhere I the kitchen below.

However, his trail of thought was brought to a halt, not by the blunt throb between his eyes, but by the unusually cool atmosphere he could feel.

His coat was missing.

As well, more disturbingly, something was fondling his hand and his glove was missing.

“Pinkie, do really think you should be playing with him? He’s been through a lot, and the poor dear needs his rest,” a meek voice spoke from his right. He felt the tip of his middle finger being pressed against a furry surface, wiggling it about toyfully.

“I’m not playing with him, I’m checking for more knives under his finger nails!” another responded, in a somewhat piercing, chipper tone. “There’s no telling where Shadowy is keeping all his pointy knives, I juuuuusst want to be sure.” With that said, he felt what he assumed was a hoof move to his index finger.

“Oh… Well…. I don’t think that’s likely. Or possible, Pinkie.” The name was a great help as it began the process of assigning labels to voices. He mentally mocked himself for ever forgetting the voice of that bubbly demon, but felt the presence of the butterscotch mare somewhat soothing. Still he remained silent.

A sudden gasp from Pinkie almost made him flinch, but his stone expression, combined with the shades resting neatly on his eyes, failed to reveal any hint of emotion. She gripped his hand, resting her hoof on the underside. He felt her worm next to him, moving his arm until it was pointing towards his feet.

“Maybe they shoot out of his fingertips!”

He felt her head rest on his shoulder, no doubt eyeballing the extended finger at the end of his hand.

“Pew…fwaa, fwaa ,fwaa, catink!” The sound effects were incredibly high-pitched, but still he remained statuesque.

“Pinkie, I really, really, really, really, think you should stop playing with him.” Shortly after, another warm, furry hoof rested across his forehead. He could feel the slight recoil of the mare through her deft limb. “That is, erm, if you want to.”

“Okay, Shy, do you think he’ll wake up anytime soon? It’s like two O’clock! Twilight should be coming back, and I really want to see a human-pony, or a pony-human. Spike said they could be like pegasi and unicorns too, so that would make them either human-unicorn-pony, pony-earth-human- or pegasus- human-pony, or even-“

Shadow tuned out her numerous combinations, the façade of being unconscious aiding in him listening to Fluttershy’s squeaking attempts to gain the party pony’s attention. After a while, Fluttershy managed to convince Pinkie Pie to leave, even allowing the mare to leave with that black glove in between her teeth. Once the door closed, Shadow opened his eyes, his gaze coated in a familiar polarised view. Fluttershy had long since removed her hoof, and from the corner of his eye he spied the mare let out a small sigh. She rolled her eyes, a beaming smile on her maw as she switched her attention to Shadow.

“You look scary, but I know you are nice, even if Applejack is says otherwise,” she said motherly, resting a hoof on his arm. She felt his sleek, tight, training shirt, its texture somewhat rough.
Lowering her hoof she continued smiling. “I don’t know much about that TV show -I mostly watch documentaries , even then I rarely have the time- but I know you can really hurt a pony,” she winced, a motion that although was noted, hardly changed his mood; he was more concerned about if she knew he was awake at this point, “And if Rainbow says you’re dangerous then I guess I have to believe her. She’s a big fan.”

She sighed, casting a sad glance to the side.

“But I know you’re a good pony, erm human. Dash even said you did a lot good things. I kind of want to see the episode where you returned that rhino, they’re so rare.”

Shadowman’s ‘fond memories’ of the beast were far from pleasant. It was grotesque, smelly, kept groaning and charging towards Hank. Long story short, it was a waste of a weekend. He still didn’t get a ticket to the art exhibition, but at least the Prince bought him a painting to complete his collection.

“I think you’re like Mr Bear. Ponies are scared of him too, but he promised to eat only nuts and fish. He even saved a little colt from a timber wolf. The poor thing’s still healing back at the cottage, I’m sure Angel bunny is looking after him.”

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The beast was heartless; its void like eyes searched for his soul. He could see it feeding of him, stealing his hopes, dreams, and life without so much as laying a paw on him. He lay there, beaten and tired from a prier engagement. He could help but be both infuriated and feel slightly honoured to die at the hands of this legendary monster.

It rested on his bandaged chest, its weapon pressed against his chin. Its vicious glare didn’t hide any sign of malice, but the sadistic essence of enjoyment this tyrant felt was somewhat difficult to spot. Never the less, with every reluctant groan of the broken warrior that same twisted pleasure sparkled in his eye.

It was feeding time, and the animal’s anger was building at its prey’s lack of co-operation.

Mr Bear had never been more scared in his entire life.

This stalemate had been going on for what seemed to be centuries, neither side willing to show weakness. Unfortunately for one, the other was willing to press his strength.

With a thump of the bunny’s foot, the bear roared, briefly. The surge of chest pain opened up his maw, allowing a sickly, thick goo to crawl down his throat. He shivered at the foul taste; he always hated his medicine.

Other than rolling his eyes, Angel Bunny barely paid attention to the dry retches of the fuzzy beast. He simply hopped of, placed the bowl back on a serving tray by the bed, before bouncing off to check on the chipmunks.

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Fluttershy was accustomed to handling dangerous creatures, from manticores to cockatrices, and even a rather grumpy dragon once, and she knew that they all had their own reasons for being mean, even if some were rather selfish. The manticore was simply hurt, that’s all, so it wasn’t too difficult to calm the overgrown kitty down. The dragon case was just a misunderstanding, in her eyes, he wanted someplace to sleep but he didn’t think about what his snoring would do to the animals. Those smoke clouds would have kept Ponyville in the dark for a hundred years.

So to her, Shadow was another potentially dangerous animal, but she didn’t like to think of him like that. He was like any other highly intelligent creature, and from she gathered from her friends, something similar to a royal guard.

But a lot more…pointy. she noted, eyeing up the arsenal of blades that rested on Twilights dresser. She hoped the unicorn didn’t mind. She returned to inspecting the man.

The black braces held a bulge on the forearm, towards the elbow. Twilight had explained that it withheld is signature tool of the trade, shooting out when necessary. She tried not to think about the purpose of those knives, but some disturbing ideas flashed in her mind’s eye, thankfully too brief to cause permanent damage.

She was more fascinated by his unusual form, it was long, probably one and half times longer than her. Between the clusters of knives, his toned form was revealed easily by the shirt. She was half tempted to remove those shades, but after casting a curious glance towards the head, she spotted something peculiar.

A platinum chain around his throat, bearing a silver weight that dangled to the side. She leant closer from where she stood at the bedside, investigating the strange pendant.

It was five pointed star, with a glistening emerald caught in a platinum claw directly in the center. It was the size of his thumb (as the book on humans she found pointed out), and seemed to catch light for a split second before darkening , as if choosing to reject the light that it was bathed in at the time.

It was a beautiful pendant, dazzling in the shadow of his neck. It did seem out of place, as if it had been knocked of the pedestal it belonged to. She gathered that it belonged in the center of his chest, but rather than invade his privacy and slide under his shirt (a taboo that somewhat confused the mare, but never the less she chose to follow Twilight’s advice on the matter), she chose to try and place it gently on top of his chest.

However, as she reached for it, she was quickly cut off.

His bare hand slammed onto his chest, moments before her hoof could scoop up the piece of jewellery. He bolted up right at the same time, summoning sharp ‘eep’ from the mare. Sitting upright, he caught sight of the room.

It was similar to a few library bedrooms he had spent time lurking around years before; tall book cases, two round windows, oak flooring, picture perfect in his opinion. The differences however were minor: a few shelves were carved into the walls, the ones close to the bed held a few pictures. The living tree theme was somewhat more dismal having seen how the librarian had chosen to decorate the interior, sticking to the natural shell of being inside the tree itself. In his opinion, he found the concept of living in a tree fascinating, but the décor was less than satisfying.

A man of his calibre can only admire the infinite number of hearts carved into most of the furniture and walls for so long.

Few things contrasted the oaken interior, such as the wardrobe far opposite the bed, the bedside table, but the one thing that did distinguish itself was the shivering wreck by his side.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry…” she repeated in high pitched intervals, burying her head into her hooves and mane. He continued to stare at her, watching her shiver between peaking at him.

He closed his eyes as he removed his shades, placing them on the table opposite. He rubbed his eyes gently, releasing a sigh like tire being let down. His best chance at sleeping wasn’t even voluntary, and it had been disturbed by a nosey, albeit a gentle pegasus.

Without opening his eyes, he reached for where he left his shades and returned them to their rightful position. Once his sepia view of the world returned, he looked at Fluttershy with that neutral mask of his.

Still, she continued apologise, or so he thought. Her attempts drifted into an audio frequency too high to hear, occasionally stepping down to reveal words such as ‘sorry’ or ‘mad’. He even managed to piece together, “I wasn’t going to steal it honest.”

He still sat there, switching glances between the entrance and Fluttershy. He gathered that Pinkie must have disappeared at some point, with his coat, without him noticing. With that said he figured it would be best to salvage what was left of his mental health and not question the matter. He shelved that conundrum above his existential crisis, which was still pending. Eventually, Fluttershy regained nearly all of her composure, and was pawing at the floor.

“Sor….” Was what he heard her mumble, refusing to glance at him. It took a while, but she was looking up to him with a pleading eyes. Amazingly, he saw her lips move, miming an apology perfectly, and yet she was mute. He raised his bare hand, silencing her.

She could only swap her gaze between the appendage and his emotionless stare. She could only assume what he was thinking, and how she believed he felt was not pleasant. Anger? Fury? Distrust?

Disregard. He reasoned that she didn't understand the sentimental value, and was simply curious about the pendant, but of course this was based on his short lived experience with the mare. Like Hank he didn’t trust many of the equines, but if he had to pick one to trust, it would be her. She wouldn’t be able to get away with stealing the pendant, that would be impossible. Still, maybe she was a cunning thief, feigning the shy mare capable of robbing a stallion in the blink of an eye.

Somehow that made sense.

After musing about the mare keeping a hoard of stolen possessions hidden away somewhere, he thought it would be best to address the situation with his negotiation skills. He gently swung his legs over, smoothly planting his feet on the wooden floor boards. She watched him get up, pinching his nose as he crouched to equal height. The pendant dangled briefly before his gloved hand wrapped around it. He absentmindedly rubbed it, cocking his head to the side.

She gazed once more into his shades, catching her reflection. It pleaded for forgiveness, her eyes almost tearing up. He was confused; as far as he was concerned he hadn’t actually done anything to intimidate her, and yet she was about to breakdown in front of him.

Using his bare hand, he repeated what he had done before, and raised his palm with the fingers spread apart. She switched her saddened glance between the pink palm and his noire glasses. It wasn’t long before the pensive look was diluted, her hoof rising gingerly, but not as cautiously as the first time she rested her hoof against his hand. The warmth of his palm diffused into her hoof whilst the strange texture of a hoof was the focus of his attention. It was incredibly soft, delicate and smooth around the toe. He hinted his forgiveness with a microscopic smile, to which she responded with one of her own.

“I’m sorry for trying to touch your necklace. I wasn’t going to take it, honest.” He looked at the floor, watching her free hoof dig into the floor slightly. Looking back up, he gave her hoof a gentle squeeze. She looked to see him, still spotting that tiny smirk. Moments later he stood up and headed towards the exit. Before he reached the door, giving a confused glance at the lack of a door knob, he heard her speak up.

“So, you’re not mad?”

He looked over his shoulder, his smile gone and his gaze upon her. He simply shook his head slowly, before leaving the room. Fluttershy let out a sigh of relief moments before flittering over the bed to follow in his footsteps.

Little did she know that the day was about to get far more interesting.

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Albert was still dripping wet, he barely had time to put his pants on, and now his chest was exposed to the somewhat chillier atmosphere of the library than he recalled. Then again, his heritage, his symbol of power no different from an alicorns wings, horn, or strength, the famous warrior princes’ breastplate, had gone missing.

And yet, through the telescope, he could see it shimmering down the road. Despite the clouds being maneuvered by the somewhat slow moving pegasi, he could see when his armour longed to be reunited.

Sweeping a wet lock of hair, he recalled what he was doing moments ago as he looked upon the humans and ponies scattered around the library, each trying to peek at the outside world.

“Never has the throne been more appealing, not to say I find it somewhat tiresome. At this point, I’d spend a lifetime surrounded by nobles, babbling about how a commoner is ‘out of place’ because their making a success for themselves, if it meant I could care for my people once more.” he muttered, exhaling an amused sigh afterwards.

He had been bathing for half an hour, rigorously scrubbing away any sign of dirt. He was somewhat thankful for not being offered the chance to bath after Hank, seeing as his brother spent an hour eradicating the grime left behind by his elder. Both brother’s came out spotless, Frank’s hair coming past his shoulders. That problem was solved by the band he was using to return it to his signature style.

A warm bath was exactly what the prince needed, although he did feel somewhat guilty for using it without permission; he felt like a desperate man, stealing warm water, and he was after all a prince. Not that it effected what he wanted of his people. He could never use his birth right in such a tyrannical matter, as he viewed it, but he wasn’t afraid of enforcing his rule for the better of others.

Hence the raid on the mountain base that led to this predicament. It was the same reason for risking his life, and was still weighing heavily on his mind.

His kingdom.

All of those souls mourning the loss of four great men. It was an Empire without a ruler, for the moment at least. He could think of allies that may falter without their presence, or even his majesty’s. People who had come to depend on him, the ruler thrust into greatness not only from birth, but from generations before he was born. His citizens were always in the back of his mind during battles, if not the front before sleeping.

As was his brother, Artemis.

Somewhat slender, much like Frank, but sporting a preference to cardinal and ruby toned attire rather than Albert’s turquois choice. He was a foot shorter, entering adulthood and being nurtured by the finest tutors in all the land. Whenever the two were away from the public eye, they were nothing less than fools. Dark hair, emerald eyes and a smouldering look practiced upon those in his age range, Artemis was somewhat a rouge.

However, he held his duties over any dame, his father’s principles and those before him were intertwined with his soul, and even with the occasional spat between brother’s if he was ever needed he was already present for his people.

Fond memories filled his mind for a majority of the bath; pranks, scuffles, banter, such wondrous and powerful memories. Numerous childhood adventures in the country side summer home warmed his heart.

And, yet, Albert had painful questions burning into his skull every minute of his soaking.

Was it real?

Was his rule, his country, is it…Was it real at all?

What about Artemis?

Nothing.

Not only the soul thing he could think about, but potentially the only answer. There was never a Primane, never five strange years of abnormal attacks and discoveries. Did his father abruptly become a fierce creature? Was Hank winning a year supply of white vests nothing short of a delusion? His birth meaningless entertainment for equines of greater power, and his most private moments displayed for an audience beyond a dimensional barrier?

And yet the glimmer of hope as to why current events happened, the way that if he was walking amongst his gods and creators, then he must exist; it was a hazardous thinking route, a constant circle of believing in his own existence one minute and then losing faith in himself as a real creature. It was a notion that could be summed up by a snake eating its own tail, a problem that never actually gained any benefit from the deed, and all the while tearing himself up in the process.

He was thankful when Hank disturbed him, knocking as if he was sparring with the wooden door. However, where one issue was filed away another worry seemed to make itself apparent. Not that it was any different being the diarch of a sovereign nation, he had people pestering him time after time, to all of which he gave his deepest sympathies and resolved matter accordingly.

Given one overlooks the local inhabitants and the existential crises, then such facts are merely minor in comparison in my daily activities. he mused, lazily casting his glance to the door. The bathroom was cosy, matching the theme of the library, although the scenery was mostly composed of watery ideology: blue ceiling, navy paint meeting a clear sky on the four walls, there were even a few boats painted here and there.

“Sir! We have a problem!” The gruff voice of the man held a cold, disciplined tone, but never the less there was a hint of worry in those words.

“Hank, my dear friend, Pinkie Pie only has the best of wishes when she requests to play some of her games. I recommend loosening up, ever so slightly; perhaps that rather intriguing game called ‘Twister’ would do you some good.”

A low rumble answered his comment, followed by a rather chipper tweet.

“See, Prince Albert wants you to play a game, so come on. Pleeeeaaaasseee.” Albert kept his eyes on the door, depending on his hearing to analyse what transpired beyond the blue barrier.

“You know Twister sounds like fun.”

“YEAH!”

“Might even snap your neck in the process.”

“Awww, that’s mean!”

There was an awkward silence, one where the soaked prince imagined the reluctant giant folding his hands, whereas the bubbly mare was pouting once more.

“Besides, you couldn’t if you really wanted to, and why would you? That’s, like, really, really, really, nasty! And illegal.”

“What do you mean I couldn’t if I tried?”

“Well… watch.”

Another eerie silenced; it was deathly, and drew deep concern from the man. As quick as the gagging lack of noise arrived it was swiftly dispersed by two rapid knocks before a fist broke through the door.

Once the fist retracted, the terrified voice of a titan burst through the newly formed peep hole, “YOU’RE A FUCKING FREAK, YOU PINK DEVIL! ALBERT GET YOUR ARSE OUT HERE NOW! THERE’S A BLOODY MALITIA HEADING OUR WAY. OH GOD, STOP DOING THAT!” Instantly, through years of practice due to demand, he rolled out of the bath, stark naked and began dressing.

“See, I told you that you couldn’t,” was what Albert heard, already pulling up his pants.

Back in the present, he was approaching Applejack, Dash, and Hank. Whereas the mares were concerned about their view through the half opened curtains, the mass of muscle and masculinity was giving horrified glanced at the bouncing mare, raiding the fridge for more drink.

“Hey, Hank,” Dash started casually, earning the harsh glare of the man. She remained ground bound, attempting to look past the burning rage in his eyes. “Don’t let Pinkie get to you. She’s kind of… like that,” she emphasised with the roll of her hoof.

He merely ploughed his hand through his crew cut, announcing with exasperation, “Nobody’s neck can twist that much… the girl’s possessed by some benevolent demon.” The cyan pegasus simply shrugged returning her gaze to the window.

“Well, just do what we do. Anything strange that Pinkie does is just because she’s Pinkie. That works for me.”

“And it’s a might’ better than sayin’ she’s all possessed ‘n’ what not; Pinkie is one the best mares to be around, and has never come short on being a good friend when a pony’s down in the dumps,” the farm pony sniped, shooting him a fierce stare. He simply frowned in response, his eyes hardening with every passing second. “She only wanted to help yer, then you went about saying how you’d hurt her like that.”

She had been leaning against the window pane, the outside world once buzzing but now shifting to a darker plane of existence before her. Now, she was marching towards the man sitting in the chair, one leg crossed over the other’s thigh. Her emerald orbs irradiated with tenacity, with determination, but most importantly emphasised the truth in the words that she threw at him like darts.

“Now, if you ever, EVER dare try to hurt one my gals,” she started whilst resting her hooves on his leg, burning a stare into his memory banks, “I’ll buck yer hard enough to send yer back to yer own world, are we clear?” she emphasised by coming eye to eye with the brute, prodding him in the heart hard enough to make it miss a beat.

He growled back, the vibrations of his powerful chest reverberating up her hoof. He answered back, somewhat calm, but laced in a restrained anger.

“If any of your gals hurt the prince, or my brother, then I’ll do more than ‘buck’ you,” he replied with a dangerous twinkle in his eye.

“Forgive me if I misheard, but I believe a gentleman should have a few meaningful memories with a lady before reaching that phase in the relationship,” Albert added with mischievous grin. He was more than eager to diffuse as many hostilities as possible, be it by conventional means or sheer embarrassment.

Dash was already bawling with laughter on the floor, choking as her hooves flayed furiously in the air. As she squawked with laughter, the cowpony and the tank gave each other a once over, before dejectedly pushing off each other. Applejack was, lack for a better word, disgusted. Hank had been thrown back enough to fall out of his chair.

“Ah thought a prince was supposed to be all regal and civil an’ the like,” AJ commented, giving a disapproving stare at the half naked man. The whole ideal was adorable, seeing how her face held a strip of crimson underneath her chiding stare. He knelt down, his devilish smile fading into a somewhat hurt grin.

“Sorry, but I’d rather not have to deal with you two at each other’s throats when the town is minutes away from storming the library. It was incredibly rude of me, and absolutely out of line, but, as I have said before, we are a very delicate stage in coping with the… situation,” he said with honest guilt. He slumped down, till he was merely sitting on his backside and coming level with her. He needed to show that he was on the same side, and he had done many other degrading feats than sitting on the floor to ensure co-existence. He has even asked for similar deeds from any diplomatic representatives. It was always a small pleasure to be reminded of how to be humble.

Despite the half smile, she could see right through his mask of strong determination to spy an ember of hope slowly burning out.

“Quite frankly, this is a situation I have not yet come across in all my years in ruling. I'll admit that walking amongst what some would call deities, creators even, is enough to unnerve even myself,” he confided, glancing away from Applejack towards the kitchen.

He spied the others, Pinkie, Rarity, Fluttershy, a silent assassin (now fully clothed once more) and a genius/mad inventor. Rarity was the last to return to the group after thoroughly measuring Albert with some tape, after all, when was the next time she’d be able to get his size? The man felt a hoof rest on his still wet shoulder.

Looking back he saw the mare staring into his eyes, deep sympathy and empathy boring into his cobalt eyes. A sad smile was mimicked, although who was the first to wear one was never known.

“It does sound kinda scary like, kind of like the first time I met the princess,” she stated before blinking, “But the whole ‘meet your maker’ thing is something I don’t think I could wrap mah head around if I was in this situation. Shoot, I’d probably be gallivanting around yellin’ at somepony, or something. I think it’s weird that you ain’t doing the same.” He returned a hearty laugh.

“Yer doin’ fine, yer majesty, Princess Celestia was even impressed by how yer handling everything. Gotta admit, if yer handle all yer problems like this, you must be just as good as her at running yer country,” she stated. In the back of her mind, she knew how he often had to handle the situation, and it was rarely pretty. She simply pegged him a violent brute without actually seeing his diplomatic skills in action.

After all, she had only seen the one episode, and the rest of the stories were from the awestruck humares that bought her produce, neither of which depicted him as the reasonable being lost and trapped before her. Then again, it was possible that the show didn’t reveal everything.

“Yes, I am aware that I have to be brave for my squ- my friends and I have always kept that in mind. To be a reductionist in this situation is to say this is another milestone in our endeavours, however, to do so is incredibly foolish and ignorant.” His gaze shifted. There was a subtle hint of power and courage flaring as he lifted his head.

“Perhaps unnerving was the wrong choice of words. I probably should have said that I need to be more cautious, it is not that I fear this world, I am merely concerned about how it affects my kingdom.”

He gave her a pleasant smile, waving off his previous comment. “I have no qualms with the lovely company you have all provided, and it is always nice to know that even as royalty we can all be out of our depths from time to time. Much of what I know is from experience and wisdom, but there are the few days where the world catches me off-guard. I will remain as determined as ever for my colleagues and for my kingdom. I thank you, lady Applejack; your humble words have done more for me than you may think.”

She blushed in response, removing her hoof to lower her hat over her eyes, an act that failed to suppress the smile sprouting on her mouth.

“Ah shucks, just helpin’ a fellow pony- I mean human- out. Never liked seeing a fella down in the dumps anyhow. And ah ain’t no deity either. I know ah’m the element of honesty and all, but ah ain’t no goddess. Ah’m just a regular farmer, working to keep mah family happy and livin’ is all.”

“A wonderful policy to keep, and if it is easier, you can call me Albert.”

“As long as yer don’t call me Lady, I can manage that.”

Abruptly the back door swung open, All bodies in the main room dashing to see what had broken in. Spike was currently clutching his chest in one claw, and a saddle bag in the other. Wheezing and coughing in between, he piped up.

“Twilight…. Lyra… Blazing Star… fighting for library… Twilight… Zecora… nearly complete potions…” With that he slumped to the floor, twisting to land on his back to shield the bag’s contents from smashing into the cold, unforgiving floor. Still panting, the drake simply pushed the bag off onto the floor with as much grace as possible, before sliding it towards the group with his remaining strength.

“Spikey!” shrieked Rarity, darting away from Fluttershy’s side by the oven, picking him up in a glittery blue grasp. She studied his exhausted form, a worried stare watching his eyes droop when she finished.

At the sound of her voice he seemed to summon reserved energy, as if he had pure adrenaline injected into his system.

“What? Oh right,” upon looking back from the confused stared of the occupants, his eyes honed in on the mare of his dreams. Deepening his voice, he confirmed how ‘OK’ he was, seconds before being put back on the floor. Rarity tidied his spikes, earning a frown from everyone but the dragon.

“Can we get back to that butchery of the English-“

“EQUESTRIAN!” yelled Pinkie, somewhat irate as she hovered by Frank’s head with a frown, before landing gracefully on the floor.

His hand wondered towards the stove as he said, “Can we get back to that butchery of the English language you mumbled on the way in.”

Pinkie once again shot up, prepared to correct the silly human for thinking he was speaking English. Silly humans, when will they learn? Apparently it was when she was about to reached the apex of the jump and instead collided with the lid to a steaming pot. Somewhere a gong was struck, generating disbelief as Frank eyed the lid in his hand. The dazed Pinkie settled down, eyes spinning as her tongue lolled about.

“Frank!” Albert, Dash, Applejack, and Rarity chided. The man in question winced, giving a sheepish look shortly afterwards. Shadowman gave him what he assumed was a murderous stare.

“Look, you guys,” Spike started, pointing a scaled claw at each human, “need to drink your potions and quick.” His voice shook, a worry stricken look was shared amongst his audience.

“I suppose poison works best when the lethal amount is taken in one go,” quibbed Hank darkly, earning numerous looks of disgust from the ponies and drake. Shadowman had already scooped up the bag, and was currently pulling out the makeshift vessels. A wired gourd was pulled out, a slit signalling the presence of a lid. Thankfully the flat base made it easier to stand on the kitchen counter.

“What? No no no. These are the pony potions, and you better drink ‘em quick. There’s, like, two gangs outside, trying to get anything human related.”

Dash was somewhat embarrassed; were some ponies really this fanatical? She had tons of ponies on the weather patrol that were like the average humare: a pony who was simply entertained by the show, maybe willing to buy some shirts. She’d never thought some would fight over seeing a mythological being. Her blush was hidden by the way her hoof had slammed into her own face.

Hank gave her a suspicious stare. He had witnessed first-hand the madness of an excited brony, and his mistrust in the species as a whole had grown tremendously. Yet, the way he saw the hint of crimson on her cheeks, he allowed doubt to linger with his previous assumptions. Perhaps not everypony was so bad? Perhaps he had the misfortune to land amongst the tiniest cluster of crazed fans? Either way, he still couldn't trust any of the equines close by, barring a few members of the present company.

“So we don’t even get to do a taste test? What a shame,” Frank remarked sarcastically, wondering if these concoctions tasted as good as the healing balm smelt. Shadowman had pulled out all of the makeshift bottles, one of which was in his grasp. The runny mixture could be heard sloshing about. He concluded that had it not been for worn wires that had clamped the stalk down, then it would have is leaked out long ago.

“BUT!” Spike interjected, waving his claws about to catch everyone’s attention. “They’re not complete yet, or so Twilight said.”

“What do you mean, Tiffany?” The confused looks shared between the ponies and humans missed the scolding stare the dragon gave him in return. The fact the fanged grin on the man was directed at him personally, only made his glare intensify. Never the less, he had other priorities.

“Twilight said you need a sample of the pony you’re going to turn into… or something.” The dragon stared at the floor, his eyes squinting as he searched for his answer. “Something like a hair would do.” The humans (sans Shadow) gave an uneasy look at the ponies before them. Pinkie Pie had regained her vigour, bouncing in front of Hank.

“Ohh, OOOHH! Pick me, pick me! I’m delicious!” Before the man, who at the time had his arms folded, could react he received a powerful punch from the mare. Her hoof had cupped a small portion of her mane, shooting into his maw. Rather than bust a lip, bruise a cheek, or even knock out a tooth, the hoof managed to avoid all that and wriggle around his mouth. He spat it out distastefully, glaring into the pony pouting.

“Am I not delicious enough?” She sniffed, pouting as she rinsed her mane. The humans were surprised by the volume of saliva that dripped out. It seemed impossible, as if exaggerated because Pinkie wished it so. Needless to say that Rarity found the display both unsettling and disgusting.

“Wait, where’s Twi?” Applejack chimed.

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Twilight could not believe the sight before her.

She had been trotting back into town, departing from the alchemist with a saddle bag full of the precious payload she had sought, when the sun had only began to enter the evening hours. The occupants of the rural town went about their daily lives, hooves prattling against cobble stone as friend greeted friend, bells chimed to signal another customer entering a store, and the buzz of trivial events kept the voice of a peaceful Ponyville alive and well.

She was heading towards her agreed rendezvous point with her number one assistant, a plan that was not thought of out of inconvenience, rather a chance to quickly be reunited with the dragon who might as well be her little brother. She worried about him, even being left amongst her friends, and even knowing that Prince Albert would forbid the other humans form hurting him, she couldn’t help but bite her lip as thoughts of a cowering baby dragon hiding from Hank crossed her mind.

With her hooves lightly tapping the road as she continued her speedy pace, she began to wonder how the morning had gone since her disappearance; another benefit of the plot was that she would get a report as early as possible.

“Twilight, pssst!”

The mare perked an ear, swivelling her head around. Many a pony walked on by, doors on buildings were shut unless somepony strolled in or out. Nothing looked out of place.

“Psssst! Twilight!” hissed the voice once more, directing her view to a nearby alley way. Peering into the dark recesses, she spied Spike stepping out of the shadows, beckoning her with a wave of his claw.

She zipped over, casting a worried glance around her. He backed further into the gloomy passage, avoiding the puddle beside him.

“Spike, what’s the matter? Why are we in this dark,” she sniffed the air, recoiling with disgust as a hoof covered her nostrils, “Wah! Smelly alleyway.” He gave a tentative sniff as well, shrugging it off as he hoisted himself on a nearby bin, currently upside down.

“Something weird is going on down the street of the library,” he said as he pointed towards another passage. Twilight followed his gesture, heading towards the exit whilst giving a confused look over her shoulder.

Splash.

She ripped a dripping hoof into the air, blanching as she steered around a drowned, dirty newspaper. “Eeww!” she squeaked, moments before peeping her head around the corner. Soaked in the glory of her mentor’s sun, she could easily spot the problem.

And immediately wished she hadn’t.

Even the light of day didn’t want to linger too long on these two factions. The storm of war was currently brewing up above, which fate had kindly disguised as the edge of a much needed down pour, orchestrated by the weather team. Houses lost their enticing charm, and were now seen as a barrier to form the boundaries of the scuffle.

The large street was divided down the center, a group of at least fifteen on each side. Numerous kiosks stood nearby, the owners waiting for a spark to ignite the powder keg with both curiosity and absolute terror. Through the few gaps in wall of pony flesh she could see a large majority of those opposite were composed of pegasi, whereas those closest were formed of mainly earth ponies and unicorns. Not to say one side was completely made of one; the side opposite had at least three earth ponies.

A sweeping wind, signalling the approaching storm, flew over the ponies, neither feeling the icy chill of the sky’s breath. Two equines made themselves known, as if they were the alphas of the packs. The tribe opposite had a beige representative, his horn protruding out of his forehead. He appeared to be draped in outdated armour, the tell-tale signs of coming from the large rusted patches on his helmet. He seemed to be barking at another, whose figure and colour made Twilight face hoof.

Using the soggy hoof.

“Lyra, look, if the humans are in there, then it is a matter of national security!”

The mint mare responded eloquently, her shimmering form courtesy of some polish one of her followers gave her. “I agree, so join us. We need to keep them safe.” He snorted in agitation, the pavement chipping as his hoof slammed down. The colts nearby shared a nervous glance amongst themselves, as did Lyra’s minions, before they resumed pointing a hateful glare at those across the street.

“Protected? They need to be driven out of town! They’re monsters! We need to subdue them and throw them in the Canterlot dungeon!”

“Oh come on, Blaze. Why?!”

“Because they’re human!”

“I won’t let you! WE won’t let you!” Those behind Lyra nodded in agreement, yelling their support in between cheers.

“We won’t let you either! You foals!”

What followed was a Mexican stand-off, a battle of patience and timing. Those opposite locked eyes with a target, their new enemy. Never daring to blink, never considering batting away that leaf caught against them by the sudden torrent of wind. Any itch, any twitch, could set off the showdown. The shadow of dark clouds stretched over the ponies one by one, as if Celestia couldn’t bear to watch approaching battle.

As stealthily as possible, Twilight backed up, ignoring the squelching and foul stench. As soon as it was safe, she galloped back to Spike, currently tossing a stones into the empty space a brick one occupied.

“Spike, something terrible is about to happen!” Before the drake could respond, he was caught in her ghostly grasp, and had the saddle bags thrusted into his chest. “The potions are not complete, they need a sample of pony DNA for the magic to activate and bind to the human genome, reconfiguring it to that of a pony. Now, remember, they can become any pony they like. There are four potions in the bag, so there’s enough for every human. It is a time sensitive potion, so it will last for about a week. Make sure they don’t eat anything within the first hour! Otherwise the magic might backfire. Another thing, keep them away from strawberries or anything strawberry flavoured, apparently that is the antidote.”

Spike blinked numerous times as he was gently put on the dirty (in comparison to the regularly maintained main roads of the village) floor. Even afterwards he was silent, his mind abuzz with what she had said. Perhaps if he had comprehended the small warning, then he wouldn’t be so confused.

“Huh?” Twilight groaned in response, her hooves stomping in place to restrain her irritation.

“Spike, listen carefully! The potions needs pony samples, like a hair strand, for the potions to work. Different potions mean they can choose what type of pony they want to be. Keep them away from food for the first hour, and drink to be safe, and nothing strawberry related! Got it?”

Spike quickly straightened his back, whipping his tail as he gave a salute. “Yes, ma’am!”

“Make sure they drink it as quickly as possible,” she said turning away to head back towards the impending battle. She steeled her resolve, her magenta eyes shining without fear, but with an ironed will. She will stop this, one way or another.

“W-w-Where are you going?”

“I’ll stall them, give you enough time to change them into ponies and hide their stuff!” she yelled back, stopping to look between the exit and Spike. Both of them shared a saddened glance seconds before charging towards each other into a warming embrace. Pulling out of the hug, she gave a sad smile.

“I’ll be fine. You better take the long way round, and be quick.”

With that they parted for their separate quests, one a journey that ended with a fierce battle, another whose race against time would determine if her sacrifice was in vain.

“ATTACK!”

She was too late; the clouds unleashed a barrage of icy rain, drenching her as she starred at the massacre before her. Pain and misery. Had she had a camera then perhaps she could have captured the moment. Then again she wouldn’t have been able to spot the main weapon held in everypony’s hooves, a tool of mass destruction often used as a last resort against opposing factions. They were launched at high velocity to and throw, injuring many. Three had already collapsed under the wrath of the weapon, feeling its chemicals burn their eyes. It was incredibly versatile, proof being that the pegasi had begun dropping them like bombs as earth ponies slammed the blunt tools of death against the enemy. One unicorn crafted an improvised tornado of destruction, whirling the objects around at high speed before dividing a pair of colts across the road.

Splat.

Inches from her hooves, disgraced to have been wasted on the ant unlucky enough to be in its path, lay the weapon of choice, with a dark crimson liquid seeping into the cracks.

A raspberry pie…

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Author's Notes:

I am so sorry about the delay in chapter release. I have been swamped by college life and a weekend job a major clothing store (Debahams for those that care), and have had little time for my fic. So to make up for it here is my longest chapter to date, EVER!

Sadly, nobody volunteered to make some art for me,therefore no pictures a available at this time. Don't worry, I am not desperate enough to resort to the pony generator, although I may use it to model my characters ever so slightly. Again, I will not soil this fic with those pictures, because, apparently, you guys all hate them.

Still don't understand why, its just a damn pony generator after all.

Then again it is rather lazy isn't it? And it spawns numerous black and red alicorns....

Kind of answered my own point there didn't I?

Anyway, no pics, epic update, less than ten chapters, nigh 400 likes, late "Merry Christmas" to all and a happy new year. YAYs all round!