Deep underneath Canterlot, in the long-abandoned mines of crystal, the conspirators gathered yet again, hidden behind robes and masks as they usually were. The candlelight was still, reflecting off the many remaining crystals, lighting up the cavern. One of the conspirators rose from their seat.

"The problem is neutralized," the First reported, "Everything indicates towards the Demon being dead. While the explosion did not go perfectly, there is no reason to believe he did not perish."

"But is there a chance he could have?" the Second inquired, leaning forward slightly, "If there is even a small chance he did survive, we should treat it as an absolute certainty and move accordingly."

"While he may not be a threat anymore, a keen eye must be kept on him, provided he can be found," the Third added.

"There is a small chance he made it out alive, I must admit," the First nodded, "Demons are a mythical kind of creatures – not anymore, I must add – and they certainly have many different characteristics depending on whom you ask. The Demon might be immortal or, at the very least, very resistant to all kinds of damage. However, I don't believe these tales are anything other than exaggerated myths made by superstitious and uneducated folk. He couldn't have survived that fiery inferno, and thus treating him as any kind of threat is dishonest and unnecessary."

"Should I remind you that we survived only thanks to taking every possible threat seriously?" the Third raised their voice slightly, stiffening in their seat, "Our fathers, grandfathers, great-grandfathers, all the way to a millennium ago, had the foresight to be cautious and attentive."

"And less than half of those threats came to be true," the First argued, "None of us have failed once so far... except you."

"...Pardon?" the Third said coldly, raising from their seat.

"You have consistently failed to deliver a worthy heir to replace any of us when we eventually pass away," the First replied, "Your younger foal is not interested in politics but in art, and their older sibling is nothing more than an incompetent idiot. They-"

"Are you disrespecting me?!" the Third slammed a hoof on the table, a thump resonating across the cavern.

"Silence," the Fourth said coldly, their voice allowing no opposition, "This bickering can't continue," they let out a long, drawn-out sigh, "It is a rare day when you two do not engage in this foolishness. It is time to settle the conflict once and for all. Constitutio must be done."

The table fell deathly silent. With small nods, the First and the Third stood up and made their way to the center of the cavern. Flat and devoid of obstacles, it was a rectangular plane big enough to fit a passenger train cart. On one of its longer sides, a chasm was visible, stretching downwards into darkness.

Both conspirators knew the rules – only one was allowed to emerge victorious. The threat of destabilization could not be allowed to grow, and it was necessary for the numbers of the conspirators to dwindle if they hoped to survive. All disagreement must reach a satisfying conclusion for everyone involved, and if such a conclusion is not found, one side must perish while the other continues on.

"I hope no one needs a reminder of the rules?" the Fourth spoke up. Receiving silence as the answer, they continued: "Well then, begin and do not stop until it is settled."

Both ponies unsheathed their hidden swords, their horns glowing in distinctively colored auras. In complete silence, they advanced, each in their own stance, their weapons at the ready. It wasn't long until the first clash came.

The blade of the Third sliced through the air; the First raised the sword to block. The Third redirected their swing, swiftly turning it to strike from another direction. The First realized the move and managed to step backwards before the blade could connect with their neck. Immediately afterwards, the First recomposed themselves and stepped forward, using their sword to redirect the blade of the opponent, pushing against it in the effort to control it. The Third moved his sword underneath the sword of his opponent by doing a U maneuver, and thrust; despite the dodge, the First received a blow. The hood of the robe flew backwards, revealing gray fur and black wavy mane; a cut on the neck became visible. They hissed under their breath, stumbling backwards. While the blow wasn't serious as it didn't reach the artery, it could incapacitate them if allowed to bleed long enough.

The Third continued to move forward with a twisting motion and a swift swipe; the mask of the First was scraped, but it was just a surface blow. The First stepped sideways and attempted to stab the Third, but the Third expected it, striking the head of the First with the flat side of the blade. Stumbling away from danger, the First made a wide swing in an attempt to dissuade the Third from attacking.

The swing made the First vulnerable as they overswung, and the Third immediately went for a quick stab in the center of the neck. The First gagged and gurgled as the sword pierced the wind pipe and the blood ran straight into the throat. Still standing, the First started swinging wildly, their focus gone. The Third used it to their advantage, guiding the First to the chasm. As soon as the First was close enough, the Third moved in, knocking the sword of his opponent aside. Using the mass of their body, the Third rammed into the First, sending them stumbling and, in a swift moment, falling into the chasm. The First screamed with bubbling sounds coming out of their maw as they fell to their doom. Seconds later, loud cracking sounded, and the silence took its place with the echo of the scream dying off soon.

"Very well," the Fourth nodded, their voice ever calm and collected, "Constitutio is concluded."

The Third nodded, breathing heavily, and sheathed their sword. Soon, the conspirators were reassembled - one seat missing its member.

The Fourth turned to the Fifth and asked, "I believe your foal is ready for the responsibility, are they not?"

"I believe it is too early," the Fifth objected, "They have yet to learn the necessary... tricks of the trade, so to speak. In a few months' time, perhaps, they will be."

"What about yours, Sixth?" the Fourth turned to another conspirator, "You have three... one of them should be ready by now if I remember correctly."

"They are ready for responsibilities, but I don't believe they would approve of this," the Sixth shook their head, "The elder two are too idealistic for their own good. One of them, for a reason I'm not certain of, adores Princess Luna, which would obviously put them in conflict with our goals. The youngest, perhaps... But it's too early for them, at least a year is necessary."

"Understandable," the Fourth nodded in acknowledgement, "What about you, Second?"

"My foal, unfortunately, has no interest in politics whatsoever and wouldn't hear of any of it from me. I tried my best, and yet the more I pushed, the more they resisted," the Second shook their head, "Although, I believe they will come around once their rebellious phase is done with. In any case, the foals of the First might be ready, but... in the light of the recent events, they must be discarded."

"Very well," the Fourth nodded and let out a small sigh, "In this case, we must bide our time and take on the responsibilities of the First until one of ours is ready to take their place."

"I will double my efforts on my eldest foal," the Third finally spoke up, "Yes, they are... not yet ready, but in time, they will be, no matter what the First said."

"We all certainly hope so," the Fourth nodded, "In this case, this question is concluded for now. We must start on the cover-up of the First's unfortunate... disappearance."

After a dreamless and uneventful slumber, Andromalius awoke to the sound of wildlife disturbing the silence of the night in the coming morning. His body ached slightly as he stretched on the bed, but the pain from the wound was seemingly gone. After glancing at the wound site, he discovered it completely healed, no scars left. He tentatively touched the place where the wounds were, and the black skin seemed thicker than before. He touched the same spot on the other hind leg, confirming his discovery. He let out a sigh and spread out on the bed, groaning as he stretched once again.

As his senses became clearer after the slumber, he could feel a tingling and painful sensation in his horn. He scrunched his muzzle and sneezed loudly, only for it to disturb the horn and cause a jolt of unpleasantness.

"Explains why Inanna isn't here..." he thought and let out a sigh.

He rolled over onto the other side and was finally able to explore Zecora's house with his eyes. The space was more round than square, the walls and the ceiling made of wood; the floor, however, was made of packed earth with some hay lying here and there. A cauldron bubbled quietly in the center of the room, a light of green emitting from it, contrasting to the warm fiery light of the many candles around the space.

"I see you are finally awake," Zecora said, coming from an adjacent room, "Many hours of sleep you certainly did take."

"How many?" Andromalius asked, turning to the zebra.

"From the day's noon to the next morning you slept," she replied, "But safe within my house you were kept. The wolves provled the night, across the forest they swept. And yet, at finding you they were inept."

"That's... good to know," the hell stallion replied awkwardly, "And, uh, if it's alright, I want to ask... why do you always rhyme?"

"This is a question many who know me ask," Zecore made a chuckle, "But finding the answer is an impossible task. This is one thing I have to keep hidden, as revealing it is strictly forbidden."

"A-alright," Andromalius nodded hesitantly but decided not to push forward. After all, even if rhyming every sentence seemed at the very least weird, it still conveyed the message clearly enough. However, he continued to wonder why such a thing needed to be a secret.

"With that aside, you must drink this tea," Zecora said, bringing out a simple clay cup with a dark liquid inside, "Swift recovery from injury it certainly does guarantee."

With a nod, the hell stallion accepted the cup and moved it to his muzzle. But first, he took a sniff, and was surprised to find that it was no different from the smell of regular green tea. Putting worries aside, he took a sip and soon drank it all, finding the taste just as close to regular green tea as the smell. Or was the brew just green tea?

"Thank you," he said, letting Zecora took the cup and place it on one of the shelves, "And I already feel much better," he stood up; a tingle of pain shot up his hind leg, prompting him to sit back on the bed, "Not... completely alright, though."

"Wolves' bites often keep ponies bedridden for months," the zebra said, "In my memory, one of them was out for a whole year once. But you aren't a pony, this is an undeniable fact. And it is certain like one you don't act. But one conclusion from this can I make, and I believe it will be an interesting take... You can't be a foreigner, this is clear, so the only answer is that you from a different world did appear."

"Well... yeah," Andromalius nodded, watching the expression on Zecora's face. It remained unchanged, "And... you're alright with that?"

"The existence of different worlds is undebatable if one were to study our own," she explaned, "The fabric of reality is of many planets and stars sewn. It was a matter of time before we found ways to others or others came to us first. After all, many of us are consumed by a peculiar itch - a knowledge thirst. It opens many ways, and one opened to you. The question now stands - was it an accident or was it what you pursue?"

"I... don't know if it was an accident, but I definitely didn't expect it," the hell stallion replied slowly, "I knew there were other worlds, uh, planets... But I didn't know magic was real. What happened to me was probably not some weird accident, but I just... really have no idea."

"What you are saying is that you lack a goal?" Zecora asked, "Do you feel like a newborn foal?"

"Uh, yeah, pretty much..." he nodded and hung his head, "I thought I would do, uh, something, but... Now? I don't know..." he drifted off as he remembered the strange prophecy Inanna told him. A prophecy seemingly about him, one that would define his life. And yet, he wasn't sure if he was ready to accept it or even if he wanted it.

"By your voice, I see you are troubled about what the future holds," the zebra noticed, "Perhaps... something interesting for you unfolds?"

"That's one way to put it," Andromalius let out a dry chuckle, "It is... interesting, yeah, but at the same time... I don't know if I can or should accept it," he looked at the zebra, "At the very least, it implies a huge responsibility I'm not sure I'm ready for."

"No one is searching for responsibility, and yet it finds us all the same," Zecora replied, "The world is ever-spinning, and this spin is what you'll have to tame."

Andromalius remembered the thoughts he had not so long ago, and it was indeed the same as what Zecora told him. He would either let the world make him, or he will have to take the reins and make the world his, in a sense. Despite the major setback that was his forced escape from Canterlot, he was still alive, and he could learn from this lesson.

"I know," he replied with a nod, "I don't know if I will take the responsibility, but at least I can be ready in case I have to," he once again tried to stand up, but the unpleasant sensation forced him to go back to bed, "Once I'm alright, I suppose."

"Very well, in this case, you must stay here and rest," Zecora nodded, "But I have a message for you marked with a certain princess' crest."

Andromalius' eyes widened as the zebra gave him a medallion in the shape of the crescent moon, L engraved in its center. As soon as he touched it, the medallion began to glow blue...

With a long drawn-out yawn, Luna met the sunrise deep in her research. Papers were scattered around her study, comparisons of different events and their links to the nobility of Canterlot were the only writings stacked neatly on the table. The candlelight of shortened candles flickered, the smell of dust was in the air.

A knock came from the door.

"...Enter," the alicorn replied tiredly, suppressing another yawn. The door opened and her thestrals walked in. Immediately, her vision sharpened and she straightened herself, clearing the fog in her mind at the same time, "Finally... What news do you bear?"

"Andromalius is safe," one of them reported, eliciting a sigh of relief from the princess, "Your message will be delivered, your majesty. Do you have any other tasks for us?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Luna nodded, standing up from her chair and went to search through the papers, "A moment, I need... This, indeed!" she picked up one of the newer-looking papers, "This person might be responsible for what happened. Follow him and find out if it's true. I allow you to break in if necessary, but keep your trace clean and don't be caught."

"We shall do as you ask, my princess," the thestral bowed, "We shall find the truth."

"I wish you luck nevertheless," the alicorn replied, "Our enemy is resourceful and their eyes and ears are plenty in and out of the castle. However, justice must be done, for it is of utmost importance to ensure fairness and harmony in Equestria."