Author's Notes:

This chapter is directly preceded by Adagio's Lament which details how Adagio came to identify as the Huntress. It's not strictly necessary to read it but it does give a lot of context.

I feel… numb, as Adagio finishes her tale. I don’t really know what to say. I literally can’t even fathom the kind of loss she just described. Or the strength of will it would have taken to not only give up her immortality for the sake of love, but to take it up again, after having lost that love, for the sake of her family.

The person in front of me was so much more, now, than I had ever imagined. I saw her for the first time almost as a mirror of myself, back in the halls of CHS. Before the Battle of the Bands. Before Anon-A-Miss. Adagio and I, the people we were then, probably had more in common than either of us wanted to admit.

Now, though?

“How can anyone come back from that?” I ask semi-rhetorically, trying to wrap my head around the enormity of what Adagio lost. “How do you even… function?”

Adagio just shakes her head. “Day by day, hour by hour sometimes,” she answers with a sad smile. “Of course, back then it helped to be a sorceress with a specialty in mind magic.”

“You enchanted… yourself?” I suppose it possible, technically, just… not advisable.

“More like I magically lobotomised myself with Aria’s help, actually,” Adagio clarifies, her smile turning arid. “Our heartstones ‘digest’ negative emotions, so when Aria took my memories, she tucked them away into my stone where all the loss and hate and grief was converted to magic.”

I lean back in the chair as I absorb the information. “Wow, so you just… get to forget the shit that ruined you and get more powerful? Got any ‘siren’ openings?”

“Three, as a matter of fact,” Adagio shoots back and we share a grim chuckle. After a moment she shakes her head, though. “You don’t want that kind of magic, Sunset, I ripped out years of maturation, years of mistakes and lessons, it left me damaged.”

“So why do you seem… so different now?” I lean forward resting my elbows on the table.

Adagio’s hand moves so fast I barely detect it and in an instant, she snatches up a switch out of nowhere and brings it down on my arm. “Elbows off the table, missy, have some manners please and thank you.”

“Ow! Shit!” I pull back rubbing the bruise for the moment it takes my physiology to repair it. “Fine, whatever you say, Mom-dagio.”

“And don’t forget it,” Adagio replies smugly as she tucks the switch away, back wherever she got it.. “As to your question, the short answer is that the memories aren’t gone forever, not technically. It’s just that the only way to get them back would have been for me to break my own heartstone.”

“Oh,” I say quietly, realising the implication. “So when we…”

Adagio nods. “Fortunately three hundred plus years of distance and the bleeding away of much of the emotional weight of the memories let me take them back in… safely. I was still inconsolable for weeks after the Battle as I slowly re-absorbed them.”

“Sorry about that,” I say, reaching a clawed hand towards her before grimacing and pulling it back. No comfort in a fresh knife wound.

Before I can pull my hand back all the way, Adagio reaches out and gently puts her hand over my palm, safe from the edges of my fingers.

“Don’t be,” Adagio says with a gentle smile I never expected to see on her face. It almost reminds me of the kind of smile Princess Celestia used to wear. Warm and maternal. “Thanks to you I remember the faces of my loved ones. I can’t believe I ever forgot them and now… well, the pain is worthwhile, I suppose.”

“I dunno if I’d want my memories back if I were in your shoes, I guess,” I say, bringing my hand up to my head. “I think I’d be just fine forgetting all of them, but I guess my gripes are small potatoes compared what happened to you.”

Adagio just shakes her head again. “Don’t compare pain, Sunset,” she admonishes gently, waving her hand. “It’s not healthy, you’re powerful but… you’re still very young. It’s okay to feel how you feel, and besides; betrayal stings no less with age, I’ll tell you that.”

“Still feels petty in comparison,” I reply, pulling my knees up and curling up in the chair. Letting out a slow breath I shake my head clear of my doubt and straighten again, standing from my seat. “But I’m not here to bitch and moan, I’m here for a reason.”

“I presumed as much,” Adagio acknowledges with a nod of her head. “What’s the plan then, Sunny?”

I hold up two bladed fingers. “I need two things,” I say grimly, then tick down one claw, “the first is easy but you’ll hate it; I need your mask.”

“Which one? I’ve got about a dozen,” Adagio retorts with a grin.

I shake my head. “Not those, I need the real one. The important one.”

Adagio scowls. “My daughter’s mask is not going anywhere.”

“It is if you want to rescue your sisters, puffball,” I snipe back and Adagio flinches. After a moment, though, she glances down at the worn and faded mask on the table and, with a pained expression, pushes it towards me.

“Fine, take it.”

“I’ll take care of it,” I say, as Adagio grabs a spare tablecloth from the shelf near her and tosses it to me.

“Wrap it up so you don’t scratch it, alright?” Adagio remarks with a glare, “I’ll want it back.”

I nod, bundling the mask in the tablecloth and tucking it into my jacket. Then I turn back to her and grimace, fidgeting a little as I try to figure out the right way to say this next bit. “Secondly… I’m going to need you to trust me, and let me, uh, mess with your head a little.”

“Beg pardon?” Adagio retorts dryly, crooking an eyebrow up.

Sighing, I gesture around us. “I’m going to do something crazy, and when I do it you’re going to be sent to kill me. I need to make sure that doesn’t happen, so I need to get into your brain and rewire it a little to implant a suggestion that will trigger when you step into my realm.”

Adagio grimaces more and more as I explain. “You’re… serious, aren’t you?”

I nod. “Dead serious, ‘Dagi, the spell I cast on you here will fade after I leave and I need you lucid for when I kick the mother of all parasprite nests. The only way to do that is-”

“To set it up in advance,” Adagio finishes, chuckling grimly. “You really are a wizard at heart aren’t you? All preparation.”

I shrug but don’t deny it. “Yeah, well, my plans might not be good but I guaran-fucking-tee that no one will see them coming. So what’ll it be?”

“I think,” Adagio replies after a moment, “that if it’s a choice between you and the Entity rewriting my brain, I’ll take my chances and go with you.”

Smirking, I crack my knuckles and call up my powers. “Alright, just relax, drop all your mental guards and wards, and this’ll be over in a moment.”

Adagio does just that, I practically feel the mind in front of me get laid bare and to be honest I’m a little surprised she trusts me this much. Well, maybe not trust. Maybe it’s just desperation.

“Alright,” I reach out for Adagio’s mind and sink my claws into her psyche. “This will probably only hurt a lot.”

My realm rumbles from its foundation as Aria, Adagio, and I move carefully through the halls. My ears are strained for the sound of any of the Killers, but I’m certain that Aria will hear their heartbeats first in most cases. She seems distracted, though, not that I blame here. I’d tried to keep my explanation to the point, covering the important bits for the most part.

“Not gonna lie,” Aria remarks finally. “Letting Sunny actually implant a suggestion spell into your mind kind blows mine, ‘Dagi.”

Adagio huffs, her hand idly tossing one of her hatchets up into the air and then catching it. “It was that or stay stuck here forever, besides, it was just a selective sleep spell. We both know my mind has seen worse.”

Aria shakes her head and chuckles. “Sure, but this is you, ‘Dagi. I’m shocked you let someone actually mess with your brain.”

Without warning, Adagio stops and glances over at Aria with an inscrutable expression. “Of course I did, ‘Ria, you’re my little sister. You and ‘Nata both, I’d do anything for you two.”

Aria stops in her tracks, staring at Adagio for a moment wide-eyed, and tense. For a moment I think she’s about to start crying again, but Aria has more control than that. Pretty sure she’ll get it all out once we get out of here.

Once they get out here.

Suddenly, Aria flinches and swivels around. “The heartbeat,” she hisses, “one of them is-” she flinches again and I taste ozone as a faint crackle of electricity plays across the floor.

I watch the electricity crackle over the moldy tiles and arc around us. Aria staggers, then she clutches her head and screams as blood trickles out of her nose.

“Shit!” I snap my hand out, gesturing for Adagio. “Get out of here! If the Entity doesn’t know you’re a turncoat yet then we should keep it that way, take Aria and go!”

Adagio nods and sweeps Aria’s legs without warning, eliciting a squawk of alarm before Adagio scoops her sister up and slings Aria over her shoulder and takes off, Aria protesting loudly all the while.

“Sunset no!” she screams, flailing at me as Adagio sprints away. “Your magic! There’s no way it’ll-”

Then she’s gone, around the corner, still struggling, but it’s still better this way. I turn to look down at the hallway, watching the crackles of electricity on the floor grow stronger. Aria is right, if there’s one Killer my magic would never work on it would definitely be this one. He’s a monster, through and through, but his mastery of the physical pathways of the brain is second to none. I doubt there’s a spell in my repertoire that he can’t just brute force out of existence with the right jolt of electrical current.

I hear a faint, high-pitched cackle and then I see him round the corner down the hall from me. He stops the instant he sees me and cocks his head curiously, his face stretched out in a permanent rictus grin by his headgear.

The Doctor… I’ve only come up against this freak a few times but it’s always been bad. For a moment there’s silence, then I hear two generators thunder to life simultaneously.

Three down, two to go, I think, as the Doctor raises his left hand in a fist. I watch the electricity crackle around it. The air buzzes and hums for a moment before he casts his hand forward and sends a rolling wave of electroconvulsive energy at me. I flicker to the side, reaching out with as much power as I can muster to scrabble at his broken mind.

It’s like grabbing a handful of metal shards in the middle of a lightning storm and I scream as I’m practically catapulted out of his mind. He cackles as he staggers backward, he’s not in my dream realm but he’s stunned by the disruption at least. I spit out a viscous glob of black fluid and sprint at him before he can recover.

I dive in, slicing deep into the meat of the Doctor’s shoulder and hissing at the unpleasant burning of the constant current in his body arching into me at the moment of contact. Doc lets out another cackle, this one tinged with anger and frustration as he staggers away from my hit.

Snatching up his weapon, the affectionately named ‘Stick’, the Doctor takes a wild swing at me, the tines of the weapon snapping with electricity as I duck and it sweeps over my head.

It’s a feint.

His knee slams up into my gut and my vision doubles over from the impact. I gasp for breath as the Doctor belts the Stick and slaps his palms together, drawing out an alarming crackle of electricity. I try to stagger back away but hit a wall as he pulls his hands apart, current snapping between the electrodes in his palms and lashes out to grab either side of my face.

I have never, in my life, felt this kind of pain.

I shriek, my body going rogue and convulsing as the Doctor shreds the meat of my brain with his power. I feel my eyes boil and smoke, and my tongue shrivels in my mouth. Everything tastes metallic. He lifts me bodily by my head, surging current between his hands as my screams shred my own throat before hurling me down the hall, pitching me like a ragdoll.

The impact of the cold tile barely registers as I twitch and spasm, desperately I rip power from my realm, pulling it in to heal my ruined body, but it’s a slow and agonising process. The Doctor cackles as he approaches, and I retain enough of a mind to flicker again, retreating down the hall and turning the corner.

I vomit out a torrent of whatever passes for blood in my body as I make a hard turn right into the cold, merciless impact of a blade slamming hilt-deep into my gut. Slowly, I raise my head to look up into the hollow eyes of the Shape, its slow, even breaths escaping the slit of its pale mask harshly.

“Oh fuck me!” I scream as it lifts me up, levering the knife against my ribcage. I barely start to struggle before its hand goes around my throat like a vice.

Shit, I can’t take another hit like this! I scrabbled at it, slicing at its chest before having a brainwave. Please work, please work, please work!

I snap my arms out and then drive my fingers blades into either side of its skull. It’s alarming how it doesn’t even flinch. I dive into its mind and thankfully it's nothing like the Doctor's. It’s not… empty per se, but it is utterly alien. There’s only one thing vaguely recognizable so I latch onto it.

It burns in my ephemeral grip. The sheer power of whatever the Shape feels for this person is overwhelming, utterly and totally eclipsing all reason and sanity. I see a face, a pretty face, framed by slightly curly blonde hair with soft blue eyes. The Shape’s mind is a kaleidoscope of images of this girl doing everything from walking to school, to babysitting, to watching t.v., to fleeing in terror.

Its mind is a scrapbook of obsessive insanity surrounding a single word.

Sister.

Seizing onto the image like a drowning woman to flotsam, I throw it out into my reality just as the Doctor follows me around the corner and, instantaneously, I feel the change in the Shape’s demeanor as he slips into my dream world. It’s not like the others where they stagger or are disoriented. One world is the same as any other to this thing, I think. Its eyes fix on the Doctor with an almost palpable ratcheting noise, though, and he drops me to the ground without a second thought.

I grin as I cough another gobbet of blood and mucus onto the tiles of the school and stagger to my feet. I’m not sure how long my illusion will last but at least I won’t have to worry about either of them for now. After all, the Shape isn’t even seeing the Doctor at all.

“Go get sissy,” I hiss around stained teeth.

The Shape lunges forward with its perfect, mechanical efficiency, and slams the knife into the Doctor’s gut. The Doctor, for once, actually looks surprised, and he lets out a cackling shriek of shock and rage. He brings the Stick down on the Shape’s back several times, to no avail. The Shape is an absolute dreadnaught; an engine of murder and obsession and right now all it can see is little sis.

It drags the knife out of the Doctor’s gut and slams it into his arm, pinning one of the Doctor’s arms to the wall. Doc brings up his other hand, crackling with electricity to grip the Shape’s head, driving his thumb into the open eye socket of the mask and loosing a current of electroconvulsive power.

Smoke pours from the Shape’s eye but he doesn’t flinch as he drags the knife down and severs the Doctor’s hand. The last thing I see as I stagger away from the two battling Killers is the Shape driving the Doctor to the ground, knife raised up and then coming down like a piston while the Doctor’s lightning-shrouded arm grips the Shape by the throat.

I get around the corner and pray I have a moment to knit my shattered body back together. Between the scrambled eggs in my head and the hole in my gut I know for a fact that I’m gonna feel this in the morning.

This is a nightmare, an absolute nightmare, I think as I sit, ducked behind a desk with Scootaloo and Applebloom on either side of me and Sweetie Belle in my arms.

While keeping watch I saw three, three, fucking Killers. A tall, thickly-built woman with a massive, bloodstained wood-ax heading towards where I think the cafeteria probably is, a goddamn huge mutant-looking freak with a chainsaw, and I’m even pretty sure I saw a fucking ghost.

Applejack would never let me live it down if I admitted it but ghosts friggin’ terrify me. How am I supposed to punch out a ghost?! How the hell are we even supposed to survive being hunted by a ghost?!

Almost worse, though, is the constant revving of the chainsaw. It’s driving me nuts and the girls aren’t doing much better. Every time we think it might be clear, every time we think about stepping out into the hall, we hear it. The chainsaw, grinding away from somewhere out there. It’s hard to even tell where it’s coming from.

Is it close? Far? Who friggin’ knows?! All we know is that psychobilly freak is out there and close enough for us to hear him.

“Rainbow?” Scootaloo speaks up, very softly.

“What’s up squirt?” I ask, not turning away from the door, I swear I saw something move out there. Either that or I’m getting paranoid. Hell, is it even paranoia if you know for a fact that there’s a bunch of murderers out to kill you?

“This is… our fault, right?” Scootaloo says, and Applebloom and Sweetie Belle tense up. “Sunset being here? You and all of us being here? It’s… our fault, because of Anon-A-Miss, right?”

I close my eyes and sigh heavily. I really hadn’t wanted to get into this until we were out of here, but that’s not going to happen apparently. “Yeah, squirt… yeah, it is.”

All three of them wilt as I say the words, but I’m not done.

“Not just your fault, though, kiddos,” I continue, “Sunset wouldn’t have… wouldn’t have ended up here if we’d stood by her. Or if the school actually had forgiven her, or if everyone hadn’t jumped down her friggin’ throat the moment shit went south…”

I slump against the desk and sigh again. “Basically, your plan was really stupid and there’s no fuckin’ way it should’ve worked, girls. The fact that it did is kinda humiliating.”

“We just wanted our sisters ta spend more time with us,” Applebloom says, sniffling quietly with her knees tucked up and her arms wrapped around them. “We didn’t mean for it to go so bad.”

“It was just supposed to be a few secrets,” Sweetie Belle continues. “But people just… just kept sending us more and more of them, asking us to post them. We thought… we had already posted some so it wouldn’t make sense to not keep posting and then… then…”

Scootaloo hangs her head and rubs a hand over her eyes. “It just got of hand… I think we forgot we were telling secrets that could hurt people. It was just… words on the internet, y’know?”

“Well, I’d ask if you learned anything,” I start, dryly, “but I’m pretty sure I know the answer to that. Because if Sunset trying to kill herself didn’t teach you a fucking lesson, this hell dimension is probably doin’ it.”

“Did she… did she really…?” Sweetie Belle starts to ask, but the words stop in her throat.

I just nod. “Yeah, Vice Principal Luna saw her do it, saw her jump, I mean. If the thing that’s been taking people hadn’t taken her then… yeah, Sunset would be dead.”

None of the girls say anything. Not that I expect them to. What do you even say about almost killing someone? No, it’s worse than that, what do you say when you almost make someone kill themselves? Because even I know that’s way fuckin’ worse. I want to blame Scoots and the girls, I really, really do. It’d be a lot easier. Easier than blaming myself.

Except I remember what happened the last time I took the easy way out and blamed someone else.

No, the girls' stupid fucking plan should’ve misfired completely. It should’ve been stupid and obvious and bad. Me, Sunset, and the girls should’ve had a good laugh over such a blatant fucking attempt to make Sunset look like a monster before figuring out who actually did it. Worst case scenario we call in Twilight and solve another friendship problem and everyone learns a friggin’ lesson.

But we didn’t.

“Do you hate us?” Scootaloo finally asks, and I flinch. Hate is a strong word but… I don’t answer right away either. I hesitate and look away as I try to figure out what to say.

I see the pain on Scootaloo’s face, the longer it takes me to answer the worse it gets. The other’s have the same look, probably thinking about Rarity and Applejack. After a moment I let out a slow breath.

“Nah,” I answer, feeling tired all of a sudden. “I don’t… I don’t trust you anymore, though. I never, ever thought you’d be able to do something like that, squirt. I don’t feel like I even know you anymore.”

Tears spring up to Scootaloo’s eyes, but she just nods. All in all, I guess it probably could’ve been worse.

“We should probably find a generator,” I say after a minute, “we can talk about all this when we get out of here.”

If we get out of here.

I strain my ears for any sound of the chainsaw. I don’t hear anything for a moment so I start to rise but then…

Thump-thump… thump-thump…

The heartbeat. A killer is closing in. I duck down and gesture for the girls to stay quiet. If he comes in I’ll sprint out and give the girls time to escape. The thudding of the heartbeat becomes louder and louder until I’m sure it must be right outside the classroom door.

It stays there, the heartbeat doesn’t get any louder. Doesn’t get any quieter either, though. What the hell is it doing? I can’t even tell if it knows we’re here. I hear a vaguely metallic sound, like… some kind of grinding, ratcheting noise, but I can’t place it. Can’t run out of here either, though, not with that sound so close. It’s gotta be in eyeshot at least.

So I wait, I send the girls to the corner of the room, hiding behind the desks so that once I run out and the Killer starts chasing me they can book it.

My worst fear comes true as the doorknob rattles and then creaks open. I hear heavy footfalls step into the room. I can hear its breathing, heavy and ragged and it somehow reminds me of wind moving through tunnels. That deep, endless, heave of air sends chills up my spine. I drop low and watch its huge, booted feet move towards the desk and, as soon as there’s a big enough gap between it and the doorway, I break cover.

“Come get me bigfoot!” I yell as I bolt out of the door.

I glance back to see the figure turn almost lazily and I feel my heart seize up for a moment. It’s staring at me through the crude eyeholes of a mask, uncaring and unmoving, a blood-stained bolo machete hanging loosely in its hand. Its hands and arms are stained gore-red up to the elbows, and twisted metal is extruding from its back. It’s a monster, a real, bona fide fucking monster and it’s like it doesn’t even care that I’m taunting it.

A second later I realise why that is.

SNAP

Razor-sharp metal teeth close around my leg with crushing force as I run out into the hall only to hit a fucking bear trap.

I scream and drop to the ground. I barely made it ten feet from the door and I’m already caught, goddamnit why am I such a useless fucking shit?!

I struggle to open the damn thing even though I know it’s pointless. He thuds towards me and reaches down to grab me around my neck and lift, dragging the flesh of my leg. I scream again as it lifts me and it lashes out with a sharp kick at the bear trap I’d stepped in like a fucking moron and the thing snaps open.

The Killer heaves me over its shoulder and starts walking as I struggle, even knowing there’s probably a hook close by. At least the girls can escape…

I continue to struggle as he closes in on another door and kicks it open, I catch a glimpse of the hook and try to struggle harder. Even if it’s pointless I’ll be damned if I make it easy on him, he can suck my- OW!

Something crazy-sharp jabs me in the side and I snatch at it, hissing as it cuts me slightly.

It’s Sunset’s fingerblade.

Well, shit, it’s worth a try right?

I bring it up then slam it down into the killer’s neck and he roars, flailing in pain and dropping me to ground. I ignore my shredded leg and bruised body and bolt out of the room, sprinting for anywhere but him as I tuck the blade away. I can’t afford to get caught by that motherfucker again because there is no way he’s letting me get away with that shit second time.

As I’m running I hear a generator explode into life not far away. Shit, the other’s will have seen or heard that one too, I’m not fucking safe anywhere. I turn a corner and hear a hiss from one of the rooms, I snap my head around to see the girl with the red mohawk, the girl that Sunset kissed, leaning out of a classroom and gesturing for me to come over.

I bite my tongue. I want to tell her to fuck off and leave me alone but I know how friggin’ stupid that would be. I drop low and move carefully over to her and she shuts the door behind me, pulling a ratty-looking kit up from the floor.

“Stay down, I’ll take care of that leg,” she says, her words clipped and accented, and starts pulling gauze and medical tape out along with rubbing alcohol. “This is gonna sting, cabrón, but don’t scream.”

The girl, Tempest, that was her name, dumps some of the rubbing alcohol onto a rage and slaps it onto my leg. I don’t scream but I do bite through my lip. I spit out the blood as Tempest pulls the rag from my leg she goes to work wrapping it.

“Where are the girls?” Tempest asks as she tapes the bandage closed.

"They’re okay I think," I say slowly, "I tried to distract the big dude with the bear traps and uh…”

“Si, I recognised the wound,” Tempest says with a grim smirk. “I’m surprised you got away, cabrón.”

“Okay, you keep calling me that,” I reply, standing and testing my weight on my leg, it hurts but holds. “I’m like, a strong eighty percent sure that isn’t a compliment.”

“It’s not, cabrón,” Tempest replies dryly. “You nearly got mi sol killed.”

I flinch but nod. “Right, yeah… can’t expect to live that down, honestly.”

“You shouldn’t,” Tempest remarks as she stands up and a realise how big she actually is. She towers over me. “Still… I can’t help but be a little grateful.”

“For what?” I ask as I glance out of the glass window of the classroom door for any lurking murderers.

Tempest pulls me away from the window with a grunt of annoyance. “We’ll hear them before we see them, cabrón, and I’m grateful because I would never have met her otherwise. Now how exactly did you get away from Trapper? He’s not known for letting his prey get far.”

I consider snapping back about her first comment but I honestly don’t have anything good, or useful, to say… “This is how I did it.” I hold up the blade that was once a part of Sunset’s hand. “She maimed her own hand and threw it at me just to drive home how much she hates my ass.”

Tempest chuckles as she takes the blade. “No me jodas? Well, that sounds like Sunset, actually, may I?”

She holds out her hand for the blade and for a moment I don’t want to give it up. I’m not really sure why. On the one hand, it’s basically just a reminder that Sunset hates me now. On the other hand…

It’s probably the last gift she’ll ever give me.

Whatever, I know what Sunset meant when she gave it to me. “Yeah, sure, here.”

Tempest takes the broken blade and turns it over in her hand, examining it carefully. “It really is a part of her,” she says quietly, then looks back up at me. “You must’ve meant a lot to her for your betrayal to hurt so badly, cabrón.”

“Yeah… she was pretty much my best friend,” I mutter, leaning back against the wall. “And I fucked it up forever because I was a coward and a bitch.”

“Everything has a consequence, cabrón,” Tempest replies, tucking the blade into her vest. “Anyone telling you different is selling something. But if it makes a difference, the whole reason I’m trying to save you and those girls is because I don’t think she actually wants you dead.”

I stare up at Tempest incredulously. “Seriously? She literally dragged us in here to be tormented for eternity and digested by a fucking dimensional squid-spider.”

Tempest chuckles but shakes her head. “Si, because she was angry and hurt, and she lashed out. She’s powerful and has a temper like a volcano. I can't say that you don't deserve to be here, you were terrible to her, but… I think a part of her regrets bringing you.”

I’m silent for a while as I absorb that. I don’t really know if I believe Tempest. I want to, but I don’t know if I can. At the same time, it does sound reasonable. The whole reason Sunset and I got along so well is because we’re so alike, including our knack to acting rashly and doing stupid shit when we’re pissed off.

“I think,” Tempest continues, shooting me a wry grin, “that once she’s free of the Entity’s thrall and is herself again she will… be able to heal. Maybe even forgive, although that will be entirely up to her. Healing does not demand nor require forgiveness.”

“Yeah, but maybe I can hope,” I say, feeling a slight spark in my heart for the first time all day. “Kinda weird, though, getting cheered up by my crush’s girlfriend… not gonna lie. Part of me wants to punch you for that.”

“You’re the one who lost her, cabrón,” Tempest fires back. It stings but I can’t really say she’s wrong, so I just shrug and nod.

A thudding heartbeat shuts us both up quickly and I tense up, ready to run. Tempest lifts a finger to her lips and backs away from the door as I sidle up to brace my back against the wall to the right of it. Tempest hisses wordlessly at me to come back away from the door. The heartbeat is getting louder and louder, I can barely hear myself think over it.

Heavy, thudding footsteps come from outside the door, their pace is irregular and lopsided like they’re walking with a limp. The gait tickles my memory for a moment. Just a moment, though, because I’m immediately reminded of who I’m trying to remember when a chainsaw roars to life and slams through the door, splintering glass and wood as a massive, twisted body shoulders through the ruined entry.

I scream and scrabble away from the enormous Killer as he blocks out the door, shaking his chainsaw loose before lifting it and pulling the thick, worn cord again to bring the ugly weapon back to life. He starts to swing around towards me when Tempest lashes out with a hard kick at the teacher’s desk, sending it between me and instant death.

“Run, cabrón!” Tempest yells as the psychobilly lumberjack slams hard into the desk and lets out a deep, animal howl of frustration when his chainsaw gets jammed in the desk.

I clamber to my feet and kick off from the floor, sprinting around him and bolting out the door with Tempest hot my heels.

A ripping, splintering noise tells me he’s freed his toy, and an instant later the Killer is on our track, his chainsaw held high for a moment to be revved before he leans into the weight of the saw and sprints for us.

“Dive!” I shout as I throw myself to the floor, rolling to the edge of the lockers as Tempest does the same.

He bolts past us, and for a moment my nose is filled with the stink of animal sweat, blood, and machine oil. His pounding footfalls leave shattered tiles in his wake and I realise his boots are fitted with crude spikes. Grinding his heels into the floor, the Killer pulls his finger from the trigger of the chainsaw and wheels around facing us again with evident glee on his half-melted face.

I glance over at Tempest in terror. We can’t outrun him, he’s too fast and he revs his chainsaw almost instantly. Both of us scramble up to our feet, backing away as the killer advances slowly towards us, revving his chainsaw up the edge. He could charge at any time.

At any moment.

He’s not, he’s just… staring us down, intimidating us, playing with us. Waiting to see which one of us will break first and run for it.

I’m about to say ‘fuckit’ and bolt anyway, even knowing what will happen, when a sharp whistle from behind the Killer distracts us all.

“Hey, Billy!” A familiar voice shouts, “saw through this!”

He wheels around, firing up his chainsaw fully and I see her. Sunset, or the Killer she’s become at least, standing at the far end of the hall. She looks awful. Her face is burnt and scorched, and I can see a bloody wound in her chest.

I also see something small and bright being tossed through the air at ‘Billy’. It looks like a vial or something…

Billy charges at Sunset, his chainsaw shattering the little vial into dust. For a moment I hear something eclipse all the sound in the area; a sound like a deep breath being taken. It’s a harsh, shrieking wheeze that’s almost deafening, like all the air is suddenly gone. It reminds me of being unable to pop my ears after getting to high altitude in an airplane except multiplied a million times over.

Then it’s gone and I’m watching Billy charge down Sunset, his chainsaw raised and ready to cleave her in half. I want to scream for her to run! To get away from him! But I can’t breathe!

Sunset is just standing there, fearless and grinning like a maniac around a face full of electrical burns and bruises.

Billy is almost to her when I hear it.

A scream like a choking shriek echoes all around us, and suddenly there’s a figure floating just behind Billy, its face covered in a burlap sack, and slashing at the backs of his legs with a bonesaw. The fine edged teeth of the ghost’s saw slashes through tendons and muscle, and Billy roars furiously as his legs go out from under him. His chainsaw pitches down and drives into the tile floor, grinding and smoking as it chews into solid rock.

Sunset flickers out of existence for a moment then she’s at Billy’s side driving her fingerblades up into his jaw. They erupt from the top of his twisted skull with a sickening crunch and Billy lets out another gurgling scream of rage as he brings his sledgehammer up to crash into Sunset’s ribs and send her flying into the wall to her right.

“Sunset!”

Tempest and I both scream her name at the same time but she ignores us, bracing against the wall and making a slashing motion with her hand.

“Get’im, ‘Nata!” Sunset yells, spitting black, viscous blood from her mouth and holding her other hand over her shattered chest.

The ghost cackles harshly in that choking voice and vanishes again only to reappear right in front of Billy and run her saw brutally against his face, slicing out his eyes and causing him to stagger back, swinging his hammer in a blind frenzy. The ghost just floats back, almost mischievously, its harsh breathing drawing Billy forward as he tries to track her by sound, He revs his chainsaw wildly as thick, mutant blood dribbles from the ruin of his eye sockets.

The ghost takes a deep, choking breath, seemingly on purpose, and Billy hones in on the sound. He dives forward, chainsaw first, just as the ghost vanishes revealing Sunset crouched right behind her, silently. Too low for his chainsaw to hit and his ruined eyes prevent him from correcting his angle.

Sunset braces herself against the wall and drives her hands forward, claws extended as Billy rams saw-first into the bank of lockers, his chainsaw spits sparks as the teeth eat up the corrugated metal, and Sunset slams her claws into Billy’s gut with all the force of his own spoiled charge.

Blood gushes from the horrendous wound and Sunset lets out a primal scream of rage as she flexes and twists, ripping her claws out from either side of the crooked Killer.

Billy vomits a mouthful of blood and finally, the chainsaw revving dies as its owner staggers backward for a moment before falling away from Sunset in two ragged, but distinct, pieces.

I can’t help but just… stare. Sunset is standing only a few feet away, her body covered almost head to toe in gore that she’s trying, pointlessly to shake off. Then the ghost is suddenly back in front of her and I feel a jolt of panic.

“Sun-!”

“Nice one, ‘Nata,” Sunset says, smirking at the ghost and raising a single clawed hand up. The ghost gives a muffled laugh and raises its withered hand to high five Sunset. “That’s one more down.”

I’m breathing hard; my whole body hurts and there’s no way to heal myself any faster. I can’t afford to rest, though, I’ve got too much left to do even now that I know Wraith and Billy are gone for sure. I still have to contend with the others.

Plus, who even knows if the Doctor got finished off. Even if he did that would just mean that thing won the fight and that’s not any better.

“Mi sol?”

I glance up and try to give Tempest a confident smirk. It comes out as more of a pained grimace, though, I think. “Hey, babe, how’s things?”

“Uh…”

The sound draws my gaze over to Rainbow and I scowl. “Don’t think I brought him down for your sake,” I spit, gesturing at Billy’s corpse, “you’re Tempest’s pet project, but I will grab that saw and kill you myself if I think for a second that you’re about to get her killed.”

Rainbow flinches away from me and I shake my head, starting to stand fully. My legs got out from under me, though, and I stagger. A pair of very light hands reach out and catch me.

“Why not take that sack off, ‘Nata,” I say as she pulls me back to my feet. She just gives me a look, or at least I think she does, before nodding and reaching up to untie the cord of the sack and starts tugging at it. “Here, here, stop,” I say with a pained laugh, my ribs really are a mess. “Let me.”

I work the edge of my blade under the cord and loosen it, then catch the rough material on the tips of my claws and pull up, freeing Sonata’s head from the sack. I smile a little sadly at her, and she smiles back. Her face is pallid and dead, her lips cracked and her eyes sunken into the hollows of her skull. Her neck is bruised and deformed, choking the air as it passes through her windpipe resulting in the wheezing stridor that gives her away.

“Hey, ‘Nata, how you feeling?” I reach up and pat her head and she just smiles silently at me. She can’t talk like this, she can barely talk even in her real body. “Good, ‘Dagi is keeping an eye on Aria, and Sour and Starlight have had free reign so hopefully they're tracking down the last generator.”

Sonata just nods along with me. After a moment she leans down and wraps her arms around me in a hug and I hug her back. I can feel the gentleness in her; she should never have been born a Siren, I think she would’ve been a lot happier as a pony. Well, that’s neither here nor there. The point is, she’s safe now.

“Go find your sisters, ‘Nata,” I say, pulling away and smiling. “They’ll need to get your real body out of here. You know where I hid it.” She nods again. “Good, you know the plan, right? That specific restriction on Killers is lifted for you guys only while the others are hunting me, so you and ‘Dagi need to get out of the gate first, now go.”

Smiling at me, Sonata pulls away and pats my head and gives me an encouraging wheeze. At least, it sounds encouraging. I’m such a coward, of course the only one I told the whole of my plan to is the one who physically can’t give it away.

I needed her to know, though. She’s the only one who can move through my realm freely. The walls mean nothing to her, so she can guide the others to exit. She raises her hand and waves at me before gripping it into a tight fist, taking a deep breath, and vanishing.

“Tempest, you okay?” I ask as I look over at the ragged young woman I’ve been trying my hardest to keep alive.

Tempest just laughs bitterly. “Am I okay? Mi sol, you look like you just finished getting intimate with a lightning storm.”

I shrug. “Yeah well, the Doctor won’t be joining us for a while, or maybe ever, depending on how things played out after I left. The Wraith is dead for sure, too.”

“So that leaves, what?” Tempest counts off on her fingers. “The Trapper, obviously, the Shape…”

“And the Hag,” I finish, and Tempest grimaces.

“Mi sol…?” I can hear the faint hope in her voice, it breaks my heart to tell her.

“I tried, Tempest,” I say, turning away from her before she can ask me the question, wrapping my arms around myself, I was dreading this moment. “I swear to god I tried, but there was nothing left. Adagio and Sonata are immortals, their minds are powerful. I have my magic to protect my sanity, but even that’s slowly failing. Summer was just a normal human… her mind didn’t survive the transition.”

I hate failing. Even though I knew the odds of getting retrieving Summer’s mind from whatever the Entity had left of it was practically a no-shot, I still failed. It’s a bitter pill that I’ve never gotten any better at swallowing.

Two strong arms wrap around my shaking form from behind and Tempest pulls me close, bringing her hand up to caress my cheek. “It’s okay, mi sol, I already grieved her loss, but… thank you for trying, though. Thank you for taking the risk.”

“I didn’t want to leave her behind!” I practically shout as I whip around, feeling a wave of panic as I reach up to grab at Tempest’s vest, being careful not to cut her. I need her to understand that I tried, I really, really did! “I swear I didn’t fuck up on purpose, you have to believe me!”

Tempest stares down at me in shock and grief. Oh god, she doesn’t believe me.

“P-please… please believe me…” I beg, “I know… I know you’d choose her. I know… but I still tried, I swear it. I really tried!” Slowly, the strength goes out of my legs as I slump down, barely gripping Tempest’s vest until I’m at her feet, my face against her legs and tears streaking down my stained cheeks. “Please, don’t leave me… please, I promise I’ll do better next time… I tried!”

I feel Tempest kneel to the ground and bring her arms around me again, gently lifting me and dragging me towards one of the classrooms.

“Do you see what you’ve done to her, cabrón?” I hear Tempest saying accusingly, she’s not speaking to me I don’t think. “Look at her! Look at what you did to her!”

“P-please,” I mumble, my mind foggy with pain and exhaustion. I try to tighten my grip, to hold on to Tempest. “I promise I’m telling the truth… I promise… I swear I’m not lying… please don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, mi sol,” Tempest whispers softly as she lowers me to ground in the classroom and sits beside me, pulling me close and kissing my forehead. “I swear, I believe you. I know you tried your best.”

“I did…” I cry raggedly, wrapping my arms around her and sobbing. “I did, I promise… I really did, I didn’t mean to fail.”

“You didn’t fail, mi sol,” she replies, “there was nothing to be saved.”

I hear another voice sob from the other corner of the room. Right, Rainbow is here. I want to be furious with her, I hate that she’s seeing me like this. I can’t though… I just can’t. My chest feels like it’s full of broken glass, my head is throbbing and my heart is pounding like a jackhammer. I can’t concentrate, so I just curl against Tempest.

“We have a little time,” Tempest whispers soothingly. “Rest, the others can distract the remaining Killers for a time.”

I nod, she’s right. I’m no good like this. I can’t afford to fail again.

“Why don’t you tell me how you found Sonata?” Tempest says gently, her hand stroking my hair, calming me down. I know she’s just trying to distract me.

I let her.

“It was…” I sniffle, trying to gather my thoughts, “it was right after the last Trial… I went to find her… it wasn’t like I thought. She’s barely alive.”

The thick fog of Crotus Prenn fills my nostrils as I step out of my dimensional gate and onto the dry, cracked grounds of the Asylum. I don’t really know what to expect, but hopefully Sonata isn’t too different from Adagio. I reach out with my power and feel for her mind.

I stagger back in shock.

Two minds.

I felt two minds.

Or rather, I felt one mind that had basically been ripped in half. One is sleeping, or at least it’s not conscious, somewhere in the heart of the Asylum. The other is a fractured mass of wrath and insanity drifting around the grounds of Crotus Prenn. I figure I know which one I should go for first, and head straight for the building in the middle of the grounds.

I have to ping the mind that I assume is Sonata’s every so often to keep my direction oriented. The sensation is so faint that it’s almost non-existent, but eventually I climb to the highest part of the Asylum, past where the normal Trial takes place. Some kind of attic level above the central chamber.

That’s where I find her.

Sonata Dusk is laying on her back in a straitjacket and strapped to a gurney with leather belts, her breathing is slow, almost imperceptible, but even. Her pretty blue hair is pooled out around her head like a halo and she’s clearly sleeping.

Slowly, I approach, grabbing one of the rickety chairs nearby to put in front of her gurney and sit.

“Well, now what?” I say, leaning with my elbows on my knees examining her. “Hey, ‘Nata, you there?” I ask, bringing my hand up and snapping my bladed fingers; the noise is harsh and grating and certainly would’ve woken her up if it were possible.

“O~kay,” I lean back and crack my knuckles. “Plan B, then.” I reach out with my magic and delve into her mind.

I gasp as I sink into something like cloying quicksand. It’s a mess in here! Just a mass of confused, distorted memories of random things. Nothing is where it’s supposed to be! Some of these memories aren’t even hers! I feel Aria’s memories and even some of Adagio’s.

Sonata, what in Tartarus happened to you?

Almost as if in response to my mental query, the eyes of Sonata’s body snap open, glazed and glassy, to stare up at me and her voice comes out as a harsh, ragged whisper.

“Do not go to Crotus Prenn.”

An onslaught of memories drowns me. Alright then, if that’s how it is let’s put this jigsaw back together, because I am not leaving without your blue ass Sonny.

I dive deep and grapple around for a timeline, something early on. Sonata’s memories are a strangulated and inchoate mass, but the others aren’t. I find Aria’s memories first and I grip them hard.

“Show me what you found, Aria!” I hiss, as I peel the memory apart. “Show me what happened to Sonata!”