"So, simplest put," Kleid speaks, "if we round the left corridor instead of the one on the right, the staircase you encounter leads directly to the second level, which is precisely where his lab is located! Mind you, the corridor on the right will still lead to the second level, but you'll have to traverse through an elbow where the mess hall is located. It'll consume more time, and we want to avoid the nighttime snackers!"

"Got it," Dahlia states firmly. "Is there really nothing on his patrols?"

"Nothing further. We have the construction blueprint of the facility, but nothing on his actual patrols. Like everything in life, Keeper has become a shrouded mystery of unpredictability. He used to send us threatening letters or scrolls about how great he and his new base is, but it's been some time. This is the first time we’re sending anyone to actually infiltrate his facility, and we're working with all we have. You'll have to adapt as you move. My recommendation is to take advantage of our throw-projector and guide your human. He is hyper-intelligent, so issuing commands as you keep a watchful eye is how I personally would tackle this. But you still have the option to enter together. You have the ability to physically defend each other, but the throw-projector has an immensely detectible magic signal which would get you caught if you used it inside the building. Ups and downs to both tactics. Watch each other's back with limited vision? Or send your human in and watch his back with a wider eye?"

Dahlia debates her options, eyes darting left and right small distances. She looks up to Crimson, completely forgetting he is unable to get input from him. She pouts to him before looking away. "... Yeah. Having the intel advantage is the smarter move. I think I'll watch from outside."

"With you, I agree! A much wiser decision! Now, we should get you two on the way. The shadow of night stretches only so far! Is there any last-minute arrangements I may accommodate you with?"

Dahlia looks up to her partner again, finding no qualms. "Nah, we're good."

"Then please follow me!"

At his command, the duo walks behind the ecstatic stallion once he trots off. They exit his lab and navigate through the daunting facility once more. Despite the time of night, there is still plenty of shenanigans being had all over. Research and advancement never ends to these ponies, it seems.

They are lead into another lab with similar design to Kleid's after turning a few corners and passing a number of doors. Inside of this lab, much less equipment is found, but instead stands a large circular platform with metal arms that surround it, making some sort of capsule-esque device that spans from floor to ceiling. The metal which constructs it looks very old and tested, but sturdy and complete. Aside from this piece of tech, a single desk with many papers is placed to the very left in front of the entrance. One mare sits and writes into parchment with her orange magic, looking very invested in what she's doing.

At the sound of her metal door lifting, her intense focus is broken. She delivers a wide beam when she sees Kleid step through, along with the two behind him.

"Good morning, Cosma!" Kleid calls to her.

"Good morning, Kleid! Your heroes, are they?" she replies, looking back at the pair - though mostly at Crimson.

"They sure are! If we can get Wisp the throw-projector, they'll be all set to go!"

"On the double!" the mare named Cosma rises from her desk and heads to the large device on the far end of her lab. She opens a metal closet just like Kleid's which is placed next to it, throws it open with her magic and retrieves a rectangular brick-like technology. With a smile, she trots towards Dahlia and offers it, "Here we go! One sixty-six hertz throw-projector at your disposal!"

"... Thanks?" Dahlia moves to take it with fallen ears. She carefully holds it in one hoof, it's not too big, maybe about the size of a standard cutting board, but it's surprisingly light.

"Remember, Wisp," Kleid begins, "you only have a limited amount of time before you're detected once you tap into their wards, depending on the strength of Keeper's counter-active resonance magic detection system. We estimate it should be enough time to get your human in. Did you need me to explain how to use it again?"

"You just... hit these buttons," she points to them, located on the farthest left and right sides of the device, "to change the ward. The middle one to turn it on and off. And angle this stick here--"

"The antenna!" Kleid corrects.

"-- yeah. That. You jiggle it," she taps a protruding metal rod on the right side of the device, "to get a better signal."

"Yoooou got it! Perfect!" Kleid begins to stomp his hooves in celebration, and Cosma seems intent in following along and clopping with him. "And now, I'm proud to present an old relic of the past that will be assisting you in your endeavors! The Transponder Machine!" he lifts his hoof to point at the bulky technology that spans from ceiling to floor at the far end of the lab.

"Sure looks fancy," Dahlia states skeptically.

"Far from it, actually! It's as primitive as metal and magic gets, yet this decommissioned device was one of the reasons pony-kind was able to survive the Great War! The Transponder Machine teleported troops to and from other parts of Equestria! Notice, this machine is now irrelevant due to advancement in magic technology. A scroll you can keep in your pocket can do what this large hunk does with much less stress!"

"Hm. Then why are we using it if there's better ways to get around?"

"A very fair question, my fellow inquisitive mind! You see, most modern methods of teleportation, while more effective and less resource intensive, rely almost purely on magic instead of machine! With so much reliance on magic, it's much easier to leave a detectable trace behind. In essence, we are trading discretion for efficiency. With these transponders, it's the opposite. They're magically silent and take no skill in the arcane to use. As long as you know the channel to another transponder and are capable of flipping a lever, you'll be set to go! The downsides, aside from taking a lot of metals to produce, is they teleport only one unit at a time and are very loud. The loudness has been resolved by placing each transponder in an underground, soundproof cement room. The single unit issue has never been solved, even after much trial and error. This is why they are now effectively forgotten about."

"Makes sense. So none of the other Black Horseshoes use these?"

"Correct. I would go as far as to say they've been completely forgotten about. Anypony who used them has now died if not from disease then to age. Even if word was passed down from one generation to another, nopony knows the channel codes except Cosma and myself."

"Indeedy!" the mare adds joyfully. "Fun fact! My grandfather and his ponies were assigned to demolish these and put the resources for something more useful. He was very fond of these machines, since it was HIS grandfather who assisted in their construction! With his cunning, he tampered with every manifest that had information on the transponders, and over time, the Family simply forgot about them!"

"Haha! I always get a kick out of that story!" Kleid taps his hoof amidst his laughter.

Visibly weirded out, Dahlia tucks her chin slightly. "... So... basically, nopony at all will know we're using these. Right?"

"Right on the mark!" Kleid nods. "And just for your information, neither myself or Cosma will use them. If you see a transponder activate without your doing so, assume it's something you'll need to kill. But the chances are slim to none, taking everything I said into account!"

The ominous instruction makes Dahlia hesitant, but she nods. "Just making sure, but these things don't need a unicorn, right?"

"Every machine auto-charges by using the lever to rev the kinetic converter!" Dahlia responds by delivering a blank stare. "They don't need a unicorn to power them."

"Cool."

"We're going to prep the transpoder for your travel! We have pre-programmed the machines you will be using to communicate with one another, so you don't need to enter the channel manually. I'll ask once more, just to make sure we've covered all our bases. Any more provisions to be acquitted?"

Dahlia gives a confident shake of her head, "We've got all that we need. So we just get the relic and run back to that thing and relocate outta there?"

"Yes! But please--!"

"Don't get followed, yeah. I know."

"Good and great! Cosma," he directs to the mare who had been staring at Crimson the whole time. "If you please!"

"Right away!~" She turns around and quickly trots to the large device, arriving at the left side of it and flipping a hefty switch from down to up. The machine roars to life instantly, glowing and pulsating with a bright blue color. The mechanisms behind the platform emit small magical beams of energy around it like a sun, and the platform itself has little grooves that pulse with magic as well. "Ready and waiting!"

Dahlia looks to the excited Kleid once more. He returns the stare, his smile widening. "I pray for your success!"

And with that, the two walk towards the platform. Crimson is pointed by Cosma to enter first, and with Dahlia's reluctant approval, he does. As soon as he steps in the platform, a blue magical aura surrounds his form. It dances on him, quickly vibrating up and down, and soon begins to encompass his form. It becomes difficult to look at him from how brightly he begins to shine.

WzZOOOooM!

‎

‎

"Nnh," Crimson nearly stumbles over, his boots clack on metal then cement, trying to not lose his footing. His light-stung eyes reacclimate to the darkness that surrounds him. He notices that the machine regurgitated him forward, forcing him off the platform, and now he's in a completely different location. The transponder worked. Unfortunately for him, it feels just as disorientating as being blinked by a unicorn, a displeasure Celestia forced him to feel.

He doesn't have much time to take in the fact that he's essentially inside a cement box underground before the transponder spits Dahlia out next.

"Yh-Wooah!" the pegasus fumbles.

Crimson crouches down and catches her as she stumbles on her hindlegs, catching her mid-fall as she plants her hooves on his chest.

He sees her magenta orbs completely dilated because of the light, giving her a moment to adjust, just as he did. Her pupils grow in size in real time. She shakes her head and looks at Crimson.

"Quite a ride, huh?" he smirks.

At realizing she's being held by him, Dahlia's cheeks turn red and she pushes him off. He lets go and stands back up, still smirking. "Feels like I just looked at the sun for an hour." She squints and looks around, noticing exactly what Crimson did. They're inside some sort of cement box dug underground. She spots a metal ladder built into the wall that climbs up to a hatch on one of the corners of this room. "That's our way up."

"Looks like it."

Dahlia reaches into her saddlebags and takes out the two ear pieces. She hands Crimson his and sticks her own into her left ear. She fishes through her saddlebags again to retrieve their bracelets, offering the man his. Once they have their accessories, they share a glance.

"You ready for this?" Crimsons asks.

"Yeah. You?"

He simply nods.

Dahlia lets her gaze fall to the ground, letting a moment pass between them. "... Hey, uh... are you sure you're okay going in there alone? I just kind of... decided it. Without asking you first."

"Not like you could. 'N don't worry, I agree with our mutual partner, it'd be smarter to keep one of us watchin'. I'm better at doin'. Works, don't it?"

"Guess it does..."

Crimson takes in her lack of confidence. He crouches back down and levels his face with hers. This sudden equalization of their heights visibly weirds her out. "As long as I got you watchin' my back, I ain't got nothin' to fear."

His words flip around her mind and heart. It takes a second, but her expression lifts. "Damn right you don't. You've got Equestria's best eyes looking out for you. Nopony else can say that."

"Hell no they can't," he says while rising with a smile. "C'mon. We've got a relic to nab."

She confirms his words by nodding and directing herself to the metal ladder. She flies up and touches the hatch. It lifts easily with some dirt coming in from above. Once open, she flies out and lands outside under Equestria's moonlight. Crimson jumps up, skipping most of the ladder, and jumps from the end of the ladder again to hop out of the hatch. He too lands on the dirt, taking in his surroundings.

They see that they're in between trees and brush, a forest-like environment in an upper part of a hill. In the midst of the night, Dahlia spots a landmark that illustrates to her where in Equestria they've landed - a massive waterfall behind them a walkable distance away. "The Neighagra falls," she speaks to herself.

"That body of water?" Crimson asks, looking off to the landmark.

"Yeah. We're in north-eastern Equestria. Base of the Crystal Mountains." She turns and moves towards the brush that blocks off the eastern view of the land. Peeking through, she sees that the hill they're on slopes down, off towards a cliff edge before the hills and mountains end. There's a base made of cement and metal near the edge, surrounded by tall trees and brush that conceal it fairly well. No lights or obvious signs of technology makes it easily missable, especially during the night. "... Sleeping Talons have a lot of balls building this close to Consortium territory."

Crimson comes down behind Dahlia, looking over her and peeking through the hole she's making with her hoof. The man doesn't notice it, but the mare tilts her head away from him slightly, her cheeks heating up again.

"Don't look too big."

"Kleid did say most of it is underground, doofus. Of course it won't look big from the surface."

"Right." He stands back up and takes out his pistol, inspecting it. "You wanna get started on that bobble of yers?"

She backs away from the brush and sits down on the grass, letting her saddlebags come off. She skulks through them and retrieves the throw-projector. "Remember, Kleid said we're tight on time once I start snooping." She reaches up and taps the device in her ear. Seeing her do so, Crimson does the same. Their earpieces flash a tiny blue light in them before it fades and remains dark. "Hello, hellooo."

Crimson hears it come from her physical mouth and from the tech in his ear. It's still as jarring as he remembers it. "Loud 'n clear."

Dahlia hears the same, finding a more excited reaction to it. "Man, this stuff is wicked! Hello, helloooo~ Hello, hellooooo!~ What does that sound like?"

"Like the voice of a gorgeous angel lullabyin' me to sleep." Dahlia's face paints reservation as she glares at him. "If that's what you sound like makin' a tune, I bet you've got a beautiful singin' voice."

Dahlia's lips tremble and she stammers, "Wh--Sh-- No. Stop being weird, dude."

Crimson shrugs, not backing off from his statement. He looks satisfied with his armament so he pockets it back in. "I'm headed in. You've got my back."

Still shaking off the embarrassment, she huffs. "Yeah. Go get 'em, tiger."

Crimson steps past Dahlia and pushes through the brush, making his descent down the hill. Under the cover of night, he blends in like a shadow. His boots crunch and occasionally slide on the moist dewy grass. It smells like it has recently rained, giving a pleasant smell to his surroundings.

As he comes closer to the base, he keeps his form low and begins to use trees and brush to conceal his movement. He notes that there's no gate, at least not at the front. The entire perimeter is surrounded by tall chain-link fence which is barbed at the top. He's curious as to the fact that there's no entrance, but he remembers who owns the base. When every member of a species is able to fly, some things won't apply. He'll have to figure something else out.

He plants his shoulder onto the bark of a tree not two meters away from the fence, analyzing it up and down. He sees a few bodies on the other side of the fence much farther in. From what he can take in, no one is patrolling near the fence, just around the concrete buildings inside. The enemy bodies are all griffons dressed in skin-tight suits of dark purples, blacks, and blues - it makes them difficult to see in the night. He focuses his vision to its farthest extend, not wanting to potentially bump into one of them in the darkness.

Analyzing enough, he safely assumes no one will come out to inspect the fence. He spins on his shoulder off the tree and runs towards it. He comes down on one knee, looking at how it is buried. He sees the mesh isn't cemented into the ground, unlike the support poles. Easier for him.

He reaches for a random link of fence near the bottom before its buried and yanks on it with slowly building force. The metal clinks quietly from the subtle disturbance and is steadily uprooted from the ground. The dirt and grass cracks and pops at the metal emerging. Once a section from the bottom end of the fence is pulled out, Crimson takes his other hand to bend it out of shape. His cheeks puff up and he grunts, forcing the metal to contort.

He huffs and lets the fence go, having made a perfect obtuse upside-down U-shape at the bottom of the fence for him to crawl under. He gets down on his fours and does so, having successfully infiltrated the base. He dashes to the closest cement structure, looking to be some sort of storage out-house. He hides at the corner of it, peeking towards the rest of the base.

"I'm in," Crimson whispers barely audibly.

He is replied by a brief moment of silence.

"... Alright," the piece in his ear delivers Dahlia's response. "I'm gonna start tapping into their wards. Get ready."

Crimson remains on standby.

"... Woah... I can see them. This thing is nuts. ... Gimme a sec. ... Mmmm... ... ah, there we go. They have three guards watching the outside. Where are you?"

"Cement rectangle, got a sheet metal roof. Corner, smaller than the other buildings."

"... Okay, I see it. You're at the left corner. You have three griffons between you and the door. Two posted right at the front, the other is circling the main building. Doesn't look like there's any out back, so you got that space to play with. I'd say... stick to the left side of the fence, and take it until you're at the middle. You'll be able to catch the patroller if you hide behind that crate next to the wagon."

"Got it," Crimson acknowledges, seeing exactly what she's pointing out to him. He turns and quietly runs around the storage shed, keeping along the fence. Once he loses the protection of the shed, he crouches down and keeps running, using the randomly placed construction materials and movable storage objects to hide him. At this point, he's close enough to hear the griffons at the front talking amongst each other, but not close enough to understand them.

He reaches the carriage and skids on his boots to hide behind the crate on one knee. He takes out his pistol and holds it with both hands. He goes through an internal debate, one which comes and ends in less than a second. His thumb flips the weapon's switch upwards.

"... Circling around back," Dahlia calls. "Give it a second."

He awaits her order.

"... He's taking your corner."

He removes his left hand off the pistol and holds it firmly with his right.

"... Now!"

Crimson spins out from the side of the crate and grasps the griffon behind. Their beak digs into the palm of his hand as he restrains them. He puts his pistol to the struggling griffon's neck and fires a quiet shot. The pike lodges deep into their neck, practically disappearing all the way in. The griffon immediately begins to twitch and tremble from shock, becoming limp in less than two seconds.

He takes the body and hides it behind the crate, resuming his approach.

"... Good one," Dahlia calls, her voice audibly frightened from the display. "... Just leaves the other two."

Crimson stands up straight and begins to casually walk towards the front. Their voices become closer and closer.

As soon as he rounds the corner to the main building, they hardly notice him before he fires two quick shots into both guards. They, too, tremble violently and croak before hitting the grass with a thud, dead as quick as if he shot them with a real gun. Maybe quicker. He looks at his dart-flinger. He grins slightly at it, admiring the modified rounds granted to him.

"... You're in the clear."

Crimson steps over the bodies and opens the front door, pleasantly surprised that no security chimed out his warning as of yet. He'll count his blessings for now.

Entering the facility immediately puts him in front of a staircase that walks him down. He takes it as steadily as he can, but his boots clattering on the cement makes too much of a peculiar noise.

"No one up ahead. You can move faster."

That's a relief, he thinks. He speeds up his descent, his steps crescendo until he hits the bottom which has another door blocking off the first level. He opens it, revealing it to be a set of hallways labeled by rock-etched signs in a language that isn't Ponish. They're dimly lit by spread out ceiling lights, with over half of them turned off while the building sleeps.

"Keep going forward. There's gonna be a door on the right before you turn the corner. I think it's a break room, I can't see inside. Check the window, there might be someone in there."

He nods to himself and takes the hallway in front of him. He walks carefully and cautiously, constantly glancing around himself in case he missed a body. The end of the hall draws near, and so does the window in question. He paces his steps very carefully, standing in front of the door. He stops, glaring at the window. He slowly leers his upper body to peek into it--

Cl-click

The metal door opens inwards, a sleepy griffon with a coffee in her one claw having opened the door. Her heart stops when a tall black shadow looms over her, one who looks equally as shocked as she does. The corners of her mouth tremble. The last thing she sees is the end of a barrel encompassing her vision.

Pwf!

Once the dart is lodged in between her eyes and she convulses, Crimson quickly reaches in and grabs the coffee mug she holds before it falls and breaks on the ground. The griffon hits the floor without much of a ruckus. Crimson steps in and uses his boot to push her corpse behind the wall under the window. He swerves between tables and chairs towards a sink at the back. He looks at the sink, then the coffee. ...

He takes the coffee up to his lips and takes a few sips of the hot liquid before pouring the rest down the drain and setting the mug peacefully inside it. He turns around and closes the door, keeping on his trail.

Once Dahlia sees him emerge from the breakroom and back into the hall, she asks, "Holy stars, that was close. You alright?" The man nods. "We're getting closer. I'm not sure how much time we have left, but maybe we can get you there without any alarms. Take a left from here, you'll get to the staircase Kleid was talking about."

He acknowledges and walks to the end of the hall, stopping briefly at the corner to peek at both sides. With no oncoming traffic, he continues and swerves left to the stairs. These stairs lead him down to a short connecting hall that turns him around to go down another set of stairs, effectively making it two sets of stairs conjoined a short u-turning hall.

"Wait," Dahlia suddenly commands before he makes it to the bottom. "Shit! Two coming! Go back!"

Crimson immediately turns and darts up the stairs, skipping most of them with hops. He props himself up against the wall in the connector hall before the second staircase, listening and waiting for their approach.

"I can't get used to this shit," a masculine voice groans.

"What?" a feminine voice replies. "Telling me you don't like your schedule getting shifted?"

"No. I don't."

"It's not all that bad, you'll get used to it."

"I won't."

"Now you're just being a sourpuss. At least we can spend more time together! I always hated that you had the morning shift."

"And I always hated that you had the night shift. This fucking sucks."

"Come on, there are worse things in life than working at night!"

"I'd rather be dead."

Once they near the top of the first stair case, they have no time to react when the shade waiting for them spins out from cover and darts them both in the neck.

Having to react again, Crimson puts his pistol in between his teeth and reaches out to grab both bodies before they tumble loudly down the stairs. He pulls them in and lets them drop against the wall he was hiding at. He takes the gun from his mouth and quietly sighs some stress out, letting himself cool down before trying to descend the steps again.

"... Sheesh," Dahlia also pines, "Saw those two come out of the room to your left just in time. Nice one, Crim."

Crimson takes her words as the green light to keep moving down. Once at the base of the stairs, it looks like a copy of the first floor, except the rooms detail different signs and likely serve different purposes.

"Awesome, we're on the second level already and still zero alarms! ... Uuh... I'll knock on wood for us, don't worry. So now, you wanna... mmm..." she pauses for a moment, "... yeah. Alright, you wanna go straight, take a left, take another left, and keep going until you reach the end of that hall. That farthest door at the end is Keeper's lab."

Crimson nods, shooting his eyes around as he walks in the event of more surprises. He's internally gratified that Kleid did so much research prior, this is turning out of be much easier than he anticipated. That is, unless the alarm goes off. He isn't sure why it hasn't yet, but he keeps counting.

"Then take a left," Dahlia directs as the man moves. "... Check that window."

He does as commanded, stopping just as before to check a window next to a door. It looks like... a dormitory. Crimson's breath catches at seeing over three dozen bodies sleeping peacefully in an expansive rectangular room filled with bunk-beds and footlockers. So many griffons dreaming their hearts away. He doesn't spot any humans though.

"... They all asleep?" Dahlia asks. Crimson backs away from the window and nods. "... Alright. Keep going." At her word, he continues. He keeps throwing his eyes at every nook and cranny, ensuring that he remains unseen. "Another left."

He rounds this corner and is placed at a hallway that spans out to a dead-end. The door marked with an etched sign which displays a beaker and a dish is seated for arrival. No windows, the other side is a mystery. He proceeds again, a bit quicker in his stride.

He makes it to the door, seeing that it opens with a push bar rather than a door handle. He isn't sure he can open this quietly or not, he's never encountered this type of mechanism to open a door.

"... There's no wards inside the lab," Dahlia announces. "I don't know if he's in there or not. Be careful, alright?"

He clenches his teeth, gently placing his hand on the push bar and pressing it in. It doesn't move with light force, he can already feel the tension of a click. He reaffirms his grip on his pistol, and with a inhale, he pushes on the door quickly and rushes in, aiming his weapon out.

He takes everything in quickly, seeing that the lab is filled with all sorts of gizmos and gadgets that are making noise and emitting some sort of light. There's even a tesla ball sporadically shooting electric arms, giving the lab a purple-ish hue. What confuses him is the pony scientist working at a table with his back turned, hunched terribly, mumbling and cursing to himself. It doesn't seem like he cares at all about the sudden entry behind him. The door comes to a steady close, clicking shut on its own.

Crimson keeps his weapon pointed, waiting for the unicorn to react.

"... Crim, what's going on? Why is everything so quiet? Did you shoot him already?"

Still the unicorn does not react. Crimson purses his lips and begins to walk to him, keeping his pistol aimed. The closer he gets, the more he can decipher what is being said.

"Motherfucking… fucking mother fuck. Fuck!"

Crimson furrows his brows at the absurdities that is being spoken by the bespectacled stallion. Once Crimson is close enough, he puts the barrel of the pistol behind his head.

The stallion stops mumbling and begins speaking directly. "I fucking know you're there already. Drop the hard-ass act before you really piss me off." He finally turns around, glaring at Crimson in complete annoyance from behind his thick glasses. "What? What do you want?" Crimson is utterly confused by this remark. "... Hello? I asked you a fucking question."

"... What the hell?" Dahlia questions, hearing exactly what Crimson is hearing.

The man is torn between wanting to answer and keeping quiet.

"Uugh," the stallion rolls his eyes and keeps working on his circuit board, completely forgetting about the man.

"... What's this weirdo's deal? Is that Keeper?"

The sounds of boops and beeps takes the air as no other words are spoken, added with brief sparks from the stallion working on his board and him randomly cussing.

"... I don't know about you, Crim. You can just kill him and get it over with, but, uh... maybe you could try... talking to him?"

That is exactly what he was thinking. He debates both options. Considering much, he feels as if Keeper already might know he can talk. He certainly acted like it. Whether it be an assumption or fact through evidence, he couldn't know. With little else to lose, he grits his teeth and takes in a breath. "Keeper."

The stallion pauses without looking over, "What?"

"... You have somethin' I need."

The stallion turns around again, fixing his glasses and he scans Crimson up and down with a squint. "The fuck are you talking about?"

Crimson pauses, not quite having remembered what the relic was called. Luckily, Dahlia is quick to catch on and whispers into his ear, "the Ring of Conteriima!"

"The Ring of Cont-urr-eema," he repeats.

The stallion pauses again, as if deeply trying to recall what he is talking about. It strikes him after a moment, "Aaaah, that fucking thing. Take it, I don't fucking care. Tired of it anyway." He turns around and continues working on his board.

Dumbfounded, Crimson lets his pistol fall to his side. "... You're lettin' me just take it?"

"That's what I fucking said."

Crimson pouts his lips, unable to hide his surprise. "... Where is it?" The stallion points his hoof to the right, over to a metal table that has multiple parchments, quills, inkwells, glass dishes, and other small trinkets scattered about it. He spots it, the exact description that Kleid provided. A small metallic ring with tiny holes all over it. The man walks over, still holding his pistol in his right hand. He reaches for the relic with his left, holding it with his index finger and thumb. It feels oddly cool to the touch, but not cold. It weighs almost nothing, but feels almost indestructible. It's formation and design is definitely odd.

Crimson looks at the stallion, who still mutters swears to himself, then back to the relic. He shrugs and pockets it, letting it have a temporary stay next to the bunny. Seeing as this deranged stallion is genuinely letting him have the relic and not just trying to ruse him, he takes an opportunity to simply look around the lab.

He notices a lot of scribbles and drawings taped onto the walls all around the lab, ranging from all sorts of things: structures, animals, plants, ponies, humans, griffons, magical devices, and artifacts. What interests Crimson most is the human drawings. As a matter of fact, Crimson looks back down at the table which he picked up the ring from and studies the parchments here. Many of them also have drawings alongside a multitude of lengthy writings. There is more than a dozen drawings with humans doing different poses or feats of strength, such as carrying a massive boulder above their heads.

His curiosity is getting the better of him. "Did you know I was coming?"

"Of course I fucking didn't, but something always happens at this time of night. Another human showed up, whooptie-shit."

The man's brows furrow. 'Another?' "... No alarms?"

"Alarms? I turn those fucking things off when I'm working. They're annoying as fuck."

"... Wow," Dahlia grumbles.

Well that explains that, the man thinks. This encounter is not at all what he was braced for – perhaps Kleid left out some important details regarding this interesting stallion. Crimson is starting to assume he might have just killed some Sleeping Talons for no real reason. If it was not for what happened to him and the Elite squad, maybe he would feel bad. "... You drew these humans?" he asks aloud to the stallion.

"Yeah, so fucking what?"

"... Crim, what are you doing?" Dahlia crows in his ear.

"You study 'em?" Crimson follows up.

"What does it fucking look like?" Keeper responds again. "Yeah, I fucking study them. That's why I gave up on that stupid fucking ring. Couldn't fucking figure it out so I kept going with my true passion."

"Yer passion is my kind?"

"What is this, twenty fucking questions? Yeah, they are."

Crimson feels a conflicting emotion surface, one that is dumbstruck by the fact that Keeper isn't jumping at the opportunity to 'study' him, and the other that is extremely grateful he's not doing so. "You got humans here?"

"No! I haven't had a fucking human here in months. Ones I had died during procedures. Need a computer to compile the fucking data."

"That what you're workin' on right now?"

"Duh!" He waves the circuit board in the air before setting it back down and hunching over it. "Go fucking cry and talk to your mom about it." He side-eyes Crimson briefly. "Can your mom talk?"

"My mom's dead."

He returns his eyes to the board. "Well that's too fucking bad."

There are many intrusive questions riding the foreground of Crimson's mind. He wants to bombard Keeper with every question on his mind, especially since he is giving sincere answers to each one he has spat out, even if crudely. If what he assumes is right, this whack-job is one of the ones responsible for allegedly giving humans speech. He cannot miss this opportunity while he has it.

"... You're giving humans the ability to talk?"

"Yeah. I am. Least I'm fucking trying. Stars fucking damn, you ask so many fucking questions." He spins around, brows furrowed behind his glasses, glaring at Crimson. "You're obviously from Mekajig's perfect batch. What? She fucking send you over to flaunt at me? 'Look, I made a perfect one! It can ask you a billion fucking questions!' Fucking bitch. It's not even perfect, it has a stupid fucking farmer's accent... which means I can still beat her to it. Just need more humans. ..." He goes quiet for a moment before snarling again. "She wanna try her hoof at the ring or what?"

"Yeah," Crimson states simply.

"Fucking fantastic. Tell that whore that I already used both the modern and antiquated methods of enchantment reversal, and both of them didn't fucking work. So good luck."

"How are you makin' us talk?"

"Aaah, classic mindwipe conditioning. Fucking Mekajig. Tell her I said I use the same process as her. Nothing changed. Drain the Broca's area and perform kinder-level language learning. Simple shit. It still doesn't work for a majority of humans, so if she ever finds out why, tell her to send you back here and fucking tell me because I can't figure it out and it’s pissing me off."

"I'll tell her."

"... Crim! You gotta get outta there soon, seriously!" Dahlia begs.

He hears her, but continues soothing his urge as best he can. He understands that sitting here and asking every question on his mind isn't the best or most sound strategy, so he formulates one last question to hopefully carry him the furthest. "Where may I find more information about human history?" he asks Keeper who is still glaring at him. He notices the unicorn pinning his eyes on the device wrapped around his wrist.

"Is that a fucking magical refractor?"

"Yes," Crimson replies simply.

"How fucking cute. Mekajig REALLY thought I was gonna try and kill you. She even gave you a dart-flinger. If you killed any of the idiots out there, I'll just fucking hire more. What a dumb bitch. You know what? Tell her this too: send your goons next time. I'll happily kill all of them, not your human pets. Keep them out of the shit-pot."

Crimson tries his hardest to not react at the information that's flowing before him.

"What did you fucking ask?"

Crimson, too, remember he had asked a question. "Where can I--"

"Aah, yeah, human history. Fucking stars above, I don’t wanna vomit all that shit for the millionth time. You’re not worth the time. So how about this? If you really care about human history so much, go bother that twat Kaleidoscope or one of his hoof-licking bitches. He kept some of my shit before I abandoned that tartarus-hole. Just hope he doesn't have Mekajig on his shit-list or you're fucked outta luck."

Crimson's eyes widen behind his hair. Kleid had it all this time... "... Thank you," he states his appreciation before turning to take his leave.

"And tell those useless fucks out there to bring me my salad. I'm getting fucking hungry."

"... Understood," he acknowledges before pressing the push bar to take his leave. The door closes behind him, and he's left in the silent loneliness of the hall outside.

...

"... What the fuck," Dahlia exasperates.

"Yeah," Crimson agrees curtly.

"Can you please get out of there now?"

He feels her sentiment and proceeds with an energized strut to leave the base. With Dahlia's guidance, he's out under three minutes. Luckily for him, no other griffons show up, he doesn't want to test their strength if he doesn't have to.

He slinks out of the base and leaves the premises from the gap he made in the fence, moving into a jog to climb the hill quickly. It has begun to sprinkle - droplets of rain sparsely come to water the soil around him.

He makes it up the hill and pushes past the brush, ending up on the same side as Dahlia. It looks like she's accommodated herself to the mild rain, having moved herself to sit under a tree. Once he appears from the greenery, she begins to shut down her device and pack up.

Crimson returns to the discreet hatch and lifts it, letting Dahlia go down first. She gets her saddlebags on and jumps through the hole, letting her wings ease her down. Crimson leaps in after her and pulls the hatch down, landing on the cement with a thud.

The both pat themselves off from dirt and water. They then take a moment to just stare at each other.

"... I think you know what I'm gonna ask of you," Crimson begins.

"Do you really think Kleid is gonna just dump all the info on our laps?"

"We won't know if we don't try. Just ask him. After we bring back the ring, I reckon he'll be predisposed to bendin' his back a little."

Dahlia falls contemplative for a moment, letting her eyes drag across the ground before setting them on the transponder machine. "... What should I ask him?"

Crimson grins with contentment. He meditates briefly on how she should proceed...

‎

‎

“Human history, you say?” Kleid questions.

“Yeah,” Dahlia replies. “I’m looking for as much information as possible on it.”

“Haha, you could have fooled me, Wisp! No offense, but I didn’t take you for a scholar! Is there some sort of research project you’re conducting on the matter?”

“You can say that.” Her shrewd retort resonates through Cosma’s lab. The mare herself even looks up from her paperwork to give Dahlia a curious stare.

“Well, whatever the reason may be,” Kleid proceeds, “I’m sure the information will prove more fruitful for you than it is to us. Keeper was definitely... unique, in how he wrote his notes. I will bring you what you are looking for.” Crimson internally fist-pumps. “Again, I can’t thank you enough for retrieving the Ring of Conteriima, and smoothly at that! No alarms, no suspects, you truly are a professional!”

“Thanks,” Dahlia takes his compliment in stride.

“If you have a treasury or deposit number, we’ll send your payment directly!”

Dahlia’s eyes expand. At just the thought of a payment, one possibly in the six digits, she salivates. “Uh, yeah! Heh, thanks! You got a quill?”

Cosma takes the initiative to levitate a piece of blank parchment and a wetted quill Dahlia’s way. Suspended in front of her, she takes the plume and scribbles in her information. Cosma takes it back and rests it on her desk, getting back to work.

“Excellent!" Kleid cheers. "So with that out of the way, I’ll have one of my crew gather our documents and Keeper’s research papers. That reminds me, what of our charming friend? Is he no longer or does he persist?”

Dahlia ponders hundreds of responses to his question, unsure which could be the right one. She could tell the truth, but… “My human didn’t see him when he snatched the relic. He may not have been in his lab. It was a silent in and out.”

“Even better! Avoiding unnecessary confrontation is always the smartest approach! But, heh, I don’t need to tell you how to do your job, right? Right! Speaking of which, your next deployment is soon! I will provide you with a briefing tomorrow morning. If you would to return to my lab and rest, please feel free! The prep will be done by yours truly!”

“Sure. It’s… left, down the hall, right, and… right?”

“Impeccable sense of direction! That is correct!”

“Cool,” Dahlia smiles wryly and nods, beginning her walk towards the lab door. “We’ll kick it for tonight, then.” Crimson follows behind her.

“I will see you two bright and early!”

The duo depart and return to Kleid’s lab, using the button to open the door to their temporary stay. Dahlia walks tiredly and sits on the bottom bunk, Crimson returns to the single couch.

“That guy was a piece of work, huh?” Dahlia comments while examining the hooves of her hindlegs. She glances at Crimson to catch him nodding twice. “I was expecting a few things to happen, but that wasn’t one of them.” Again, she glances his way and catches him smile. It gives her a curious raising of her brow. “What are you smiling about, smiley-pants?” He shakes his head. “You can’t be smiling for no reason.” He shrugs and looks away, still smiling. “… I’ll get it out of you soon.”

Crimson lets his head rest back against the wall and his eyes close.

“You actually gonna sleep? Or are you gonna keep being weird and just sit there the whole night?” Again, he shrugs. Having to interact like this with him again makes her remember what she already realized. She comes to terms with herself - she really doesn’t like it when he’s not able to talk.

She directs her attention to him, quietly watching as he rests with his eyes closed. She can’t even see his eyes due to his hair, but she knows they’re closed. She can feel it. There’s a few things she wants to say and talk about, but it’s no fun when he can’t reciprocate. What she has to say probably isn’t even worth talking about, it would just be small talk or filler. No point in it, she guesses. That’s how she feels about most things that pop into mind, at least things that aren’t business related.

…

Still, something about this idiot makes her feel like even though it is small talk, and it is pointless, it’s still worth saying. She’s best shrugging off the feeling, though. Especially now in the circumstances they’re in.

She scoots herself onto the bed completely and lies down on the first bunk, staring blankly at the bottom of the second bunk. She rides her train of thought until her eyes close on their own.

Next Chapter: The Show Stopper Estimated time remaining: 8 Hours, 58 Minutes