“I am not joking!” Swirl snaps at both Bulletpoint and Strix, all sat down on the couches of her room. “Crimson killed Magnifying Glass! In cold blood!”

“That can’t be!” Strix holds her hooves over her mouth.

“Fuckin’ A!” Bulletpoint’s atheism has him shaking his head. “You sure, lass!?”

“Without the shadow of a doubt!” Swirl affirms.

“This can’t be true!” Strix shakes her head. “He couldn’t have done something so horrible!”

“Listen! I need you two to listen!” the yellow unicorn snaps at them. The two force their mouths shut, their eyes expanding as a consequence. “There are many unanswered questions on Crimson's disguise and motives, but he did not simply murder the scribe without a reason! That cretin had forced himself onto Moonlight! Celestia herself had set us, the witnesses, aside! She explained everything using black and white! Magnifying’s intentions, the guards, the set up… everything! And that is not the worst part!”

Strix and Bulletpoint appear even more mortified at the prospect of more terrible news.

“Celestia admitted to knowing about Magnifying Glass the whole time! Not just him, everything! The Black Horseshoes have been amongst the Consortium for many years! All of the fronts and politics that they played made this out to be more than just a well-kept secret!”

“You fackin’ tellin’ me that Princess Celest’cha yields to them gang cunt ‘oles!?”

“Yields?” Swirl squints her eyes. “She’s their puppet! The illusion that she rules Canterlot is nothing but a farce! Now that their mask has fallen, every Canterlot defender that knows the truth is on their watch-list. Myself included. I would not be surprised if our numbers were suddenly down-sized.”

“That pasty pallid bitch,” Bulletpoint spits in rage. “’N they gonna put Red to the blade ‘cuz he killed a fackin’ Horseshoe. Who gives a fuck if he dyed his hair black! He did ‘Questria a fackin’ service!”

“We need to do something!” Strix pleads. “I-I can’t--! We! We can’t just let this happen to him! He’s our friend!”

“Damn right, shiela! Red’s my mate ‘n I ain’t gonna let a piss-ant gang back me into a corn’a!”

“Do you two realize that helping Crimson means we defect?” Swirl growls at the both of them. "Do you understand that me simply telling you this is grounds for my permanent imprisonment?"

“Who cares, Swirly!” Strix gripes. “We’re, like, the Elite team! We put our lives on the line and stuff! We can do this! I’m so tired of living in Canterlot, and our contract doesn’t let us leave! I’m so tired of it, sis! Tired of the politics! Tired of being tired!”

“I’m with Essie,” Bulletpoint grits. “I ‘ave the upmost respect fer cap’n Snowfall, but this shite? Nah, mate, I’ve met my limit. I’mma help that fackin’ bloke out, with or without’cha, Swirl. You wanna play it easy ‘n safe? Then fackin’ stay ‘ere.”

“Silence!” Swirl snarls at him. Both he and Strix perk their ears in surprise at her tone. “Not only are you letting your emotions overcome your rational thought, I never said I was going to remain idle. I am only saying that I hope you two understand the gravity of this situation. If we defect from the Consortium, there is no looking back. Especially now. Their façade has broken? Everypony in the Guard and Mage Guild knows the Horseshoes rule the Consortium? There is no mercy. If we are caught, we will be imprisoned. Even executed.”

The determined looks that have grown on their faces does not falter. Bulletpoint lets out a rough breath through his nostrils. “If it means I fight the same gang-trash that I’ve been fightin’ my 'ole life, I’m well for it.”

“Me too,” Strix nods firmly. “We’ve always fought the bad guys. Just ‘cuz now our own government is the bad guys, doesn’t mean we can’t fight them!”

Bulletpoint smirks at her choice of wording but agrees full-heartedly.

Swirl enters deep contemplation, letting her pink orbs drift to the side. She then sighs deeply, shutting her eyes tightly to relieve some tension. “No. Let us set aside these notions of fighting and violence. We cannot act so rash. We will need something. An advantage. A plan. We cannot be caught defecting without having any solid ground to stand on. Again, let us not think with our emotions, but with our minds. We must play it safe. Act as normal. Our goal is as simple as making sure he is in good health.”

“Said the Horseshoes are the one pullin’ the strings, ye?” Bulletpoint asks. Swirl nods with a raised brow. “What of the guard? They part’a the ploy?”

“I am not certain. What I can say is that, including myself, every mage and guardpony who was pulled aside by Celestia last night was awed to find out the truth. It may be a select few double-agents veiled among our ranks. It goes without saying that Celestia would not reveal their identities. We are faced with the likes of Magnifying and the two guards who protected his abominable behavior. But we do not know who they are.”

“What about Moonlight?” Strix brings up. “I’m super worried about her.”

“I have the same concerns. My biggest worry is her mental health. Last night, before I unknowingly banished Crimson to the dungeon, I… saw her. Head Researcher Wish was completely incapacitated and in anguish. I did my best to assure her safety before I used my last translocation scroll to teleport to the dungeon. She is under the care of her usual nurse and is in good hooves. I worry not for her safety now. But what has happened to her is unforgivable, and the Consortium's course of action is to conceal this. I cannot leave it alone.”

Bulletpoint glares needles to the lava lamp that churns with a multitude of colors, trying to find something to calm his brimming anger with. “Poor shiela can’t catch a fackin’ break. First that janitor mongrel… now this.”

“Why her?” Strix follows behind his thought.

“Fate is… cruel," Swirl muses. "Especially to her. But now that we know better, we can push against it. Again, I cannot emphasize enough that if we are caught defecting, we may not come out victorious. What we are up against is much bigger than we could hope to realize. Unfortunately I do not have a plan, but we may formulate one by gathering information. It will be tricky, but… it is all I can think of.”

“Info, ey?” Bulletpoint queries while sitting up. “How do you suppose it?”

“Yeah! What’cha got for us, Swirly?” Strix ask with a forming smile.

“The more complicated information will be from you, sister. I would like you to obtain the latest medical records from the Infirmary, if possible. I want to see what medical staff is handling the diagnosis and cleanup of the crime scene. I am certain they would not use regular staff, but instead Black Horseshoe infiltrators. Can you handle this?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Good. Bulletpoint, as Second Lieutenant, you have access to the patrol lists Captain Winter receives every other morning by the Consortium. Bring me a copy. I will use this to see which guards are being manipulated to accommodate for this incident.”

“Consider it done,” the stallion affirms.

“Excellent. In the mean time, I will write out another set of translocation scrolls. Last night, our mages used up the reserve we had stored away to surround Crimson post-haste. This should give you two enough time to acquire what we need. I will start on a plan once you both return with your records.”

“Undastood.”

“Understood!”

“Then, let us not waste any more time.”

‎
‎

---

‎
‎

Crimson finds himself winning a staring competition with the ground under him, one that he has played for a few hours now. He is hardly able to contain his fury but unable to expend it in any reasonable way. All he can think about now is the two mares at his forefront.

Moonlight. She is in safe hooves and is being cared for. … At least, that is the assumption. He cannot think of any other way it could possibly get worse for her.

Dahlia. Who knows what the hell she is doing or thinking right now. He desperately hopes she is not trying to break into the Castle, that would be the worst decision she could possibly make. Maybe she is reporting back to the Brains about his failure. Or maybe she is just sitting in the transponder room, waiting for him to break himself out.

Everything has fallen apart so quickly, and he cannot even begin to find a way to get himself out of this. Maybe he could. Maybe he is able to, but it is a shy thought in a vast hall of noise.

He reaches for the collar around his neck, barely able to understand what it means. Something he felt to be true has proven to be false. The collar does not work on him, but it does work on him. It fails to drain him sometimes while able to screw him over other times. He has been running a steady game with this thing throughout the entire time he has been cursed with it. Now that he as the time to stop and try to fit the pieces of the puzzle together, it escapes him. Maybe there is some pieces he is missing, but he cannot begin to fathom why this is.

He looks over to the metal bars that separate him from freedom. He sees that no guards have come to stand posted. As a matter of fact, he does not see any guards at any of the other cells. No wards to be seen poking behind edges or corners either. He goes to assume that the Castle royalty has so much confidence in their magic prisons that there is absolutely no way anyone could escape.

He feels like he does not actually understand how fucked he truly is. He laments on this fact long enough…

…

… long enough for a quiet repeated clack of metal on the stone ground to perk his attention. He fixes his attention to the metal bars again, rising up from the bed with clenched fists. It sounds like the metal clanking comes closer, seeming to stop right in front of his cell. He does not see anyone. A trick of sound or something of the sort, he darts his eyes quickly between each gap of the bars.

He is astounded to see a tube of deep blue magical light begin to shine in the middle of the air. This floating disembodied magic acquires a physique when a being reveals themselves from invisibility. Their presence forms from up to down, the spell casted on them sparkles away.

“Princess Luna!?” Crimson calls with haste, quickly running up to the bars of his cell and gripping them.

“Ssh!” the princess softly commands. She looks around left and right, ensuring that nothing approaches them. She then glares up at him. “… So it is true.”

“That everythin’s fucked and I’m in the middle? Yeah, it is.”

“I do not understand, my angel. What is happening? What has occurred?”

Crimson feels a mixture of unsurprise yet astonishment at her questions. “You meanin’ to tell me you have no idea what’s goin’ on?”

“I do not. Last night, during the sound-off of the rallying horns, I attempted to respond to the intrusion. Little did I expect for Celestia to not only be awake at the dead of night, but to command against my intervention. She, instead, assessed the calling while leaving me to the Dream World. Against my sister’s demand, I could not let my curiosity rest.”

Crimson squints, his mind dotting the i’s. “Listen, Luna, I ain’t know what you ‘n yer sister talk about, but if you didn’t find out already, she’s a pawn fer the Black Horseshoes. That despicable fuck Magnifyin’ Glass tried rapin’ Moonlight Wish, ‘n he would’a gotten away with it had I not broken into the Castle just in time to stop ‘em.”

Luna reels back in shock. “Broken into the Castle? What reason would there be to trespass when thou art welcomed?”

Crimson’s squint holds up for a moment before he realizes she truly had no idea what is happening. “... You’ve been really left in the dark by Celestia, haven’t you?”

“I already know she has ties to the Black Horseshoes. The relationship between them and Canterlot is strictly for Celestia to pertain. I do not involve myself in such matters.”

“… I've had a good feelin’ about you, Luna. I don’t know if I can trust you with this, but… I reckon I ain’t got shit else to lose. So... listen, I was working with the Black Horseshoes. I used them fer information while they used me to fetch their groceries.”

“Thoust worked with them!?” She questions harshly, but keeps her voice down.

“I did, and as a matter of fact, I’m still workin’ with ‘em. Before you assume the worst, I only put myself in their sights so I can get the information I needed about Equestria’s humans. I’m so close to crackin’ this, I just need that last relic in Moonlight’s room. That’s why I broke into the Castle. I didn’t come here as ‘Crimson.’ I came in as ‘Sky.’”

At this, Luna visibly strikes eureka. “Some time ago, I was relieving myself of duty for the morning. As I exchanged the throne with my sister, she was having a hushed conversation with a Consortium chair member. I overheard the name ‘Sky.’ I had feared that she was speaking upon Horseshoe matters. This would mean she was speaking of you.”

“Yeah. Everything you might have known or heard was me.”

"Is that a title or a code word used while you were undercover?"

"Sky?" Luna nods. He shakes his head dispondetly in response. "It's my family name."

"Ah. I see. Crimson Sky. I suppose we never did learn of your full name, did we?"

"You didn't. Wasn't fer nothin' though."

"If I might ask, what is the final goal with the relic in the Head Researcher’s possession? What is the intention behind its acquisition?”

“Not just the one. The Doyens are lookin’ to get a set of relics together in the hopes of becomin’ immortal. One of their Brains already admitted it likely ain’t gonna work, so fetchin’ them in exchange fer information on humans is a barter in my favor.”

“What art thou hoping to find in regards to Equestria’s humans? Was it truly worth ending up in this… position?”

Crimson gives her a fiery glare. “Yer fuckin’ right it was worth it. Not for the humans, but fer Moonlight.”

“If I may speak freely, the Scribe once known as Magnifying Glass did not satisfy many criteria of comfortable social function. That is quite an achievement coming from myself as I am completely inane in the subject.”

Crimson smirks, finding some amusement in her words despite the situation. “Yeah, he didn’t rub me the right way either. Puttin’ my fist to his head was a pleasant experience.”

“Thy level of commitment to the Head Researcher’s safety and well-being is admirable. It makes me believe the injunction enacted upon thou was ill-placed.”

“On that I’m glad we agree. Listen, princess, I have a favor to ask of you. It’s a shot in the dark, but we’re already here.”

"I cannot release thou from thy cell. A silent alarm will have us surrounded by Consortium subjects within moments."

"It ain't that. It's... somethin' else."

Luna looks to be very hesitant. “... Tell me your request.”

He stops to think briefly. “… Get the relic from Moonlight’s room. Get it and get to the waterfall behind the Gardens. There’s a secret room behind it. I’ve got a partner there, give her the relic. If I can find a way to break outta here, that’s all we’ll need.”

“Thou hast comprehension that thou ask me to betray the Consortium by aiding in this endeavor."

“Well aware.” Luna turns her unenthused gaze away. Crimson’s shoulders droop and he shakes his head, “Forget it. Stupid of me to ask. This ain’t yer fight, you shouldn't be gettin’ caught up in this.”

Luna nods, taking a step back, appearing much more tense and stoic. “It is wise to not interfere,” she speaks again in her olden method. “I find this predicament unfortunate, but as it stands, there is nothing that can currently be done.”

“… Yeah.”

Luna looks up to the despondent man again, asserting her eyes on him until he looks back. “… I admire thy conviction. Thy resolve and heart cannot be trifled with, and I yearn for that strength within myself. I still think on that fateful night when thou first made my acquaintance. What thou hast told me. Despite where thou now finds thyself, thou still holds true and resolute.”

"Hm. You think back on that night a lot?" Luna nods twice. "You remember what I said about the formalities?"

Luna smiles slightly, turning her deep orbs away from him. “Indeed, I do. Does my voice still soothe you?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Her smile grows just a bit wider, her cheeks tint a rosie color. "I have come to understand… my sister’s ruling is the exact opposite of your stature. Irresolute, frail, and indecisive. She has the grace and presence to convince a crowd that Equestria is on its way to recover from the War… yet she will not separate us from the Horseshoes. She does not want to break away from the safety and comfort they provide, start from the ground and truly build up the empire she advocates for. For the last twenty years that we have had our crowns, she continues to insist that change will come, that we shall expand on our own and step away from the darkness. But she is afraid. I never had the courage to address this directly with her, but this failure to commit has caused a grand divergence in our relationship as sisters. She takes the glory of the waking world while letting the poison seep. She hides me away from reality, she does not allow me to see what I have the right to see. Just as last night, when she stowed me away to imprison you.”

Crimson continues to stare silently at her, his brows lining the top of his eyes.

“… Our kingdom would thrive under the rule of one such as yourself, Crimson. That is something I have realized some time ago.”

Crimson drops his gaze despondently. “… I was wrong about you.” The princess tilts her head at him, waiting for him to continue. “I was wrong about what I said. Very wrong. Between you ‘n yer sister, all this time, there was a weak link in the chain. I couldn’t see it then, but there it was… rusted ‘n chippin’ away at the strength of the pull. … It wasn’t you. It was yer sister. She played me, the politician she is… but a mask always shatters. Like mine did. That’s somethin’ I always liked about you, Luna. You never put one on. Maybe you just… didn’t know how to, but… doesn't change the fact.”

Now it is Luna’s turn to take in his words in a thoughtful silence.

"Let’s just pretend we never spoke. Least now, you know the truth."

"... Indeed. But I will part with one last divulgence. My sister shall beckon soon. I have overheard much of her plans, but... I shall let events unfold as they shall. I only wish the best of luck to you."

“… Get yerself somewhere safe before yer caught.”

Luna looks up to him, her eyes hiding many thoughts behind them, but she speaks none of them. She takes a step back, her horn begins to glow. The invisibility that shrouded her before encompasses her again. She disappears, her hoofsteps are completely silent.

”Her hooves are silent.” He now realizes that she likely allowed him to hear her approach, if for effect more than anything else. Very intriguing, he thinks to himself.

He returns to the bed and sits back down, taking a page out of her book to rack his mind on a clever way to try to approach his situation. He does not know what awaits him. He does not know if breaking out is even possible, and if it is, he may not have the opportunity to do it. All he knows is that he needs to get out of here and get back to her.

He has a promise to keep. He will not break it, even if it kills him. Or others.

‎

---

‎

The sun shines above Equestria, warm and comforting in the early morning.

His dandelion-yellow eyes lazily remain straight forward as he walks ahead, aiming himself towards the Castle training grounds. He steps foot outside of the major archway at the back of the Castle, crunching grass underneath his hooves. Early morning, the sun warms up the chilly air of Canterlot. His orange coat bounces the morning rays perfectly, his expression almost acknowledges it.

Bulletpoint traverses through the training grounds, past many guards who train and spar, or run the obstacle courses littered about. He aims for a certain structure at the far end of the grounds, just past the barracks, a single square building that houses the most important figure in the Guard. It should be a simple 'hi and hello,' in and out without any hassle. Maybe share a few words about what happened.

As he gets closer to this building, he notes that it looks more like a two-story office. Even though he has visited this structure many times in the past, he really did not take in its design much until now, partially due to being on edge and heightening his senses from recent events. He approaches a staircase which leads to the glass doors of this building.

Upon entering, the office building aesthetic really takes ahold. There is a receptionist mare sitting at a desk at the far end of this lobby, and there is a staircase next to the receptionist desk that leads to the second floor. The building seems oddly small to be an office, despite appearances. It looks more like a personal quarters with a front desk at the first floor.

The mare at the desk seems rather cold and uninterested at his entrance. She writes into parchment, holding a plume in her orange magic. Bulletpoint takes off his helmet and sets it next to the receptionist’s desk.

“Mornin', Polly," Bulletpoint greets casually.

"Good morning, Second Lieutenant. How can I assist you today?"

"Just stoppin' by to see Top. She in her quarters?"

"Yes, sir, she is."

The stallion says nothing further and continues. He walks to the staircase at the right of the desk, heading up to a wood door that has a non-transparent window on it. He lifts his hoof, his armor rustles lightly at this motion, and he knocks on the door.

"Come in!" a commanding yet calm voice sounds off from the other side.

Bulletpoint opens the door and steps into this personal quarters. Maybe a breach and clearer's habit, but he glances around despite being familiar with his surroundings. There are posters and pictures everywhere that involve the Royal Guard. Trophies and medals detailing all sorts of accomplishments that Snowfall had completed throughout her time serving. For a mare that seems to be in her early years of adulthood, Bulletpoint thinks she has done quite a lot. It looks like retirement might be soon knocking on her door. There is a spacious bed to the left that is still unmade from the previous night, some drawers that are half-closed, and some articles of clothing resting on the carpet floor. Now looking at the room as a whole, it is fairly messy, especially in comparison to what he has seen before. Retirement is closer than one would think, if she is being this careless now. ... Or maybe it is not retirement causing her to act this way.

"Mornin', cap'n," Bulletpoint speaks up to the mare who sits at her desk, filing through paperwork.

“Morning, B.P," Snowfall replies, her squinted eyes still focused on the documentation in front of her. "You don't usually catch me this early in the morning."

"Reckon I'd stop by."

"Do you now. Hm. Since you're here, why don't you take a seat? There's actually something I wanted to talk to you about." She motions over her desk to a chair on the other side. The seat is more like a single-cushion couch, ample and comfy-looking. He does as she asks and sits himself down.

"... Permission t'a speak freely, cap'n?"

"Granted," she replies sternly.

“Your room’s a mess.”

“The team sniper always has a sharp eye.”

“Gettin’ loose?”

“Something like that.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“None, except the fact that I’ve earned my right to be messy.”

"Not like you to be."

"Maybe not. But that's besides the point. I'm sure you know what I want to talk to you about.”

"It ain't about pickin' daisies 'n fascinatin' the weather, that's for damn sure. Last night was a mess."

"Damn right it was. He's here. He's really here, and he's behind bars. He broke into the Castle and killed one of the Robes. There's no better place he should be than the Canterlot Dungeon."

Bulletpoint squints at her seriously, but does not jump despite his first instinct. “All due politeness… expected better from you, cap’n.”

“I could say the same.”

"Bloke's innocent."

"Do you really believe that, B.P?" she questions him sternly. "Do you really believe that an assassination against a valued member of the Consortium is grounds to call him 'innocent?'"

"More than grounds," the stallion throws back. "Say Red's done us a favor. Pickin' off a fackin' Horseshoe."

"You've received almost as many write-ups as Banter for speaking out of line. What you just said is justifiable for a final."

Again, against his urges, he remains seated and keeps squinting at the captain. "... Ye?"

"Yeah. It is."

Bulletpoint leans forward, glaring right into Snowfall's icy blue eyes. "... Do it then."

“I’m disappointed, Bulletpoint. I would have figured the second lieutenant would know better than to be insubordinate.”

“Ain’t nothing against you, cap’n. Know you’re just doin’ ya job.”

“And I expect you to do yours.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Snowfall sighs, setting down the documents she tries to scrutinize. She instead focuses on him directly. "You're really head-strong about this, aren't you?" Bulletpoint keeps gawking in silence. "Not willing to accept Crimson as the bad guy?"

"'Till you can prove he didn't kill gang trash..." he smirks cheekily, "... nah. Chap's the same hero now as he was when he saved our arses in Yakyakistan."

"You call him a hero?"

"Ain’t even a fackin’ question, lass. What about him ain't say hero? You'd be in a grave had Red not taken that prince. Whole bloody team would."

"I'm fully aware of that, B.P. I haven't forgotten."

"Respectfully..." he sits back in the seat, crossing his arms over his silver chestplate, "... don't seem like it."

"I’m not here to argue with you, and you've shown me enough, Bulletpoint." Snowfall stops glancing between him and her papers, instead focusing on the stallion now. "You're clearly showing honest-to-goodness intention of siding against the Consortium and sympathizing with the enemy."

"He ain't. An enemy. Cap'n."

Snowfall stares back at the riling stallion unenthusiastically. "Whether you'd like to accept the reality of our situation is up to your discretion, B.P. He is an enemy of Canterlot and its ponies, and that is an undeniable fact. You don't seem keen on changing sides, so I'll only have one thing to ask of you..."

Reluctantly, the stallion groans, "'N what'd that be, cap'n?"

"What’s your end goal?"

“End goal? Pssh. Fuck the end goal, we gotta make sure the lad doesn't get the raw end of the butcher's knife first. Details come down the pipeline. Cap’n, I’m hopin’ you can see the light. But ‘f you wanna live under tha golden slipper, that’s your tail-end.”

“Understand that it is my duty to report terrorism sympathy, Bulletpoint. This has become more than petty insubordination. This is treason.”

“Use whatever political word that gets ya’ rocks off. Did them post schedules come in already?”

“They did,” she replies flatly, leaning back in her chair to continue glaring at him unenthusiastically.

“I request to see ‘em.”

“Request denied.”

“On what grounds?”

“Do I really need to say it?”

“What’re you gonna say, ey? That I’m lookin’ to work with the prisoner? Sympathize with ‘em? Lass, this ain’t been nothin’ but an exchange between you ‘n me. You try officially denyin’ me internal records, high echelon ain't gonna like that.”

"What do you think they'll say when I tell them your plans?"

"Tell 'em how you ain't got a tad of proof 'n you might be mentally unfit to remain as cap'n of the Guard."

Snowfall squints at him. “… And what do you plan to do with the reports?”

“Just wanna look at ‘em. Simple as. Ain't I have the administrative privilege?"

"Yes. You do."

"Then?"

“I don't get why you're being extremely difficult, Bulletpoint. You’re the last pony I expected getting bent over about this. I understand that you’re fond of him, and despite what you think, I am too, but is it really worth it? The decade you’ve spent in the Guard, all of the accolades and respect you’ve earned? You’re willing to throw away years of work and effort by biting something that is sure to bite you back?”

“Short-sighted of you, cap'n. Ain't about just one bloke. What’s the respect of others when I can’t even respect myself? Livin’ under a boot ain’t a life at all. Had I known the Consortium were just pawns fer the stars-damned Horseshoes… I’d’a burnt my ribbons long ago. You’ve known this, cap’n. Since day one.”

Snowfall sighs, visibly decompressing in her chair. Her sky-blue orbs fall to the papers on the desk, contemplating way more things than she can at once. “… I don’t wanna lose you, B.P. Especially not now.”

“Neither do I you, cap’n. If you see the light of day, you’ll join me. You won’t let yerself become like ‘them.’”

"Trust me when I say, I understand you more than anypony. I care more about you than they do. That’s why I don't want you rotting away in a cell because you decided to be truant."

"'N I don't wanna see you, Essie, or Swirly givin' your bodies 'n minds fa' tyrants."

Her eyes lull upwards towards the ceiling, letting his words sit a moment. She huffs lazily through her lips, having them flatulate briefly. "... You know… it isn't any of your business, but... I took a conditional oath with Celestia when I joined the Guard. Back when I was still just a filly out of Canterlot High, Equestria was getting back on its hooves when the Great War ended. The Royal Guard desperately needed new recruits. Because the Consortium and associated names were nothing more than a passing joke, none of us went through recruiting or signed paperwork when joining the Guard. Not like you younger kids were forced to do. The Royal Sisters inaugurated us directly."

Bulletpoint, turning up for a smile and listening intently, speaks up with a jape. "Ain't much older than I am, lass. Got what, eight years on me?"

"Eight and ten months. Don't get off topic, this is important." Bulletpoint points to her, signaling her to continue. "We didn't sign contracts like you did. Me and every other pony that joined the Guard back then, we aren't legally tied down. The oath we took with Celestia and Luna was simpler. It was one sentence long. 'Strength, honor, and loyalty is our forge for gold.'"

Bulletpoint nods slowly. A smile slowly creeps onto his face. "... I see."

"I'm sure you do. When I read that letter Swirl sent last night, the one thing that kept the oath strong fell into pieces right before my very eyes. By every legal and judicial mean, I can resign now and the Consortium could kiss my white ass goodbye. But let's face it, with everything that's happened now, me resigning?"

"It'll only lead to strife."

"Marked on point, B.P. They're forced to let me go with hoofs in their mouths, but that doesn’t stop them from playing dirty behind the scenes. It’s worse for you. Direct abandonment before your contract ends, or even worse, treason, will get you locked up along with Crimson faster than you can blink. You really wanna side with the enemy on this?"

"Damn roight. If you were to join us, lass, I reckon we got more than a chance."

She shakes her head slowly. "Your sense of righteousness is admirable, B.P... I personally think it’s your best trait."

“… Hmh.”

“… So, the patrol lists?”

"If you kindly would."

She reaches with her hoof to a drawer on her desk, taking out a folder which has sections separating the papers inside. She sets it on the desk, and Bulletpoint perks up in excitement. His enthusiasm drains a notch at seeing the dead-pan stare Snowfall gives him after she had set the folder down. "Listen, Bulletpoint. You're not dumb, but I feel the need to tell you this again. Once you take these documents and use them for… whatever it is you’re doing, you’ve crossed a line that will disappear forever. Everything Canterlot is and will be can't be looked back on. Everypony you knew and cared for that isn’t apart of this rebellion will leave an empty hole in your heart.”

“I hope you don’t miss me too much, cap’n.”

Snowfall simpers almost unnoticeably, but does regardless. “Don’t speak too soon.” She pushes the documents his way. As the stallion takes it into his possession, she glances at him, now seeing the information in his hooves. She stops to admire him and the sensitive information that he now holds. He ends up looking back at her, and they lock eyes. "… Anything else you needed from me, Second Lieutenant?"

He looks around her room, taking a look at all of her possessions and belongings. He assumes the stress of the whole situation caused her to bother not with cleaning her room. Something about this sight causes him to feel somewhat melancholic. An indirect vulnerability that she very rarely shows, one caused by a dilemma she chooses not to display overtly. “That’s all for now, cap’n. Appreciate it.”

She notices his long staring at her room, but she says nothing about it. In fact, she joins him, also looking at every single trophy and medal she had earned in the guard. Two uniforms are presented on wooden pony mannequins that show her dress-blues and dress-greens. Both of them are donned with separate medals and ribbons. So many fond memories of her time in the Canterlot Guard and so many ponies she met during her time. So many cherished moments, thick and thin, good and bad, ugly and beautiful.

In the end, it was all worth... nothing. A princess she swore an oath to let her better judgment escape her, and now they are found here. Change comes in waves, she thinks. This one is simply heavier than the ones before. In her heart of hearts, the war has just begun.

"You know," Snowfall begins, but pauses and holds still for a moment before continuing, "... I still remember your first day in boot camp."

"A young little muck, I was," he simpers lightly and reclines in his seat. "What brings on that memory?"

"Letting the passage of time hit my conscious mind. You were easily the most vocal and patriotic fresh meat I've ever seen. You had a stout heart for Equestria then."

"Still do. Protect 'er from 'er enemies. Don't matter who they be."

"And in that, you are correct. Still the same stubborn piece of work I had the great pleasure of whipping into shape. Even though you had a big mouth and anger management issues, you were always hard to hate. Had your heart in the right place."

"You tellin' me that's changed?"

Snowfall unwillingly jolts a single chuckle, letting her amusement get the better of her. It rubs off on Bulletpoint, as he snickers as well. "Not one bit."

Quietness breezes through the both of them as they fall into reminiscence. Bulletpoint purses his lips, feeling more sober in this moment than he has in a long time. "... Be nice if you sided with the truth, cap'n. I know ya' better for it."

Snowfall falls into deeper muse. A cold wind wisps through her room. The morning sun which shines through the windows becomes eclipsed with dense clouds. She is not sure whether it is her imagination or the weather, but everything suddenly feels so blue. "... What's Swirl think of this?"

"I could tell ya’, but… how ‘bout we pay the lass a visit? Get 'er own words?"

Parabolic concrete walls across her heart and mind crack, a beam of light shines through it. "Nothing beats the source direct. She busy? Don’t wanna intrude on her business."

"Never too busy for you, cap. Better question is if you’ve got the time to spare."

“I’ve had too much time on my hooves for the last two months. This gives me an excuse to leave my office for longer than five minutes.”

Bulletpoint tilts his head up as a gesture for invitation. He takes the documents with right hoof and comes off the chair. As he does, the mare speaks up again.

"Listen. All we had today is a conversation, so try to act natural around the others. That goes for you, me, and anypony else scooped into this. The point is to not get caught. Is that understood?”

“Loud ‘n clear, cap’n.”

Snowfall reaches under her desk and retrieves her saddlebags. Coming off her chair, she throws them around her waist and joins Bulletpoint at the door.

Together, they take their leave. The room becomes vacant and lonely; one last cold wind ruffles the curtains over the windows.

‎
‎

---

‎
‎

The meek steps of the yellow mare are completely silent against the tile of the Infirmary halls. Her pink orbs which hide half-way under her bubblegum mane slyly jump between every nurse or doctor she comes across. She keeps interactions to a minimum, but occasionally gives a ‘hello’ or ‘good morning’ to some of the staff that knows her.

Strix finally arrives at an office just past the patient ward. She lifts her hoof to knock on it three times quickly. Purple magic encompasses the door knob just after, the door comes open to reveal a clean pasty-white room that stands as the head nurse’s office.

Strix pokes her head in, looking over to a purple and white unicorn mare dressed in black and white garbs, who works at her abnormally wide desk.

The mare looks up to Strix, letting the channeling of her magic cease. “Ah, good morning, sergeant.”

Strix walks in completely and smiles at the nurse. “Good morning, head nurse.”

“What can I help you with?”

“I received an order from medical operations to come get a copy of this month’s audit. I was just wondering if it’s ready.” The head nurse gives her a well-earned look of confusion. “Oh, um, if it’s not ready yet, I can, like, come back later. If you want.”

“It’s not that, sergeant, I simply was not informed that there was an audit requested by med-ops.”

“Why haven’t they told you?”

“I have no clue. Was it needed for something in specific? I can’t think of a reason why an audit would be needed at the moment, patients have been coming in lightly these past few weeks.”

Strix rattles her brain for a split-second, her eyes glancing away at nothing briefly. “They were just looking to see the expense draft for each patient. They’re worried the rates went up for plastics and pumps.”

The head nurse keeps looking at Strix as if she was speaking nonsense… until her eyes brighten in realization. “Aaah, right. I did hear that a few materials recently went through a rate increase. Almost fourty-four percent, can you believe that?”

“It’s, like, really silly if you ask me. The western ports have been importing plastics like crazy, I don’t know why they would get hiked up.”

“I personally think it’s the trade agreement Los Ungulas had with a certain… affiliate of ours. But, that’s not here or there. Sadly I don’t have an official audit ready for you, but I can whip up a draft for you on the jiffy. It should be good enough to satisfy what med-ops needs.”

“That’s super.” Strix beams happily. “Thank you, head nurse.”

“No problem at all, sergeant! I’m more happy to see you again. It’s been some time, has it not?”

“Yeess! It’s been too long. I kind of miss working at the Infirmary.”

“Well, once your contract with the EG ends, we will certainly have a spot open for you!”

Strix nods with the same elation. A pit of guilt forms inside of her and holding up the smile becomes difficult.

She is able maintain her farce until the head nurse writes down and staples all of the required information together. She levitates it to Strix, who takes it with her wing and a grateful nod.

“Come back and visit again soon, Strix,” the head nurse calls merrily.

“Surest thing, Lilac! Thank you,” she holds up the paperwork as reference to her thanks. The head nurse nods twice.

Strix departs and closes the office door behind her. Her joyous simper quickly falls to a guilty frown. She trots with hastened steps back towards the residences.

‎
‎

---

‎
‎

Tongue sticking out slightly between her teeth, Swirl focuses intensely at the parchment she writes in. Her yellow magic manipulates the quill she holds, it dances and darts around elegantly as the ink marks out symbols and words.

She sits on the floor of the living room, hunched over the coffee table as she wraps up the fourth scroll. She pauses, straightens her back and lifts her chin, taking in a deep, stressed breath, before hunching back down and finishing.

At dotting the last sentence, she places the quill back into the ink well and leans away from her work. Her narrowed eyes start from the top of her writing, running through it in order until she ends on the bottom. Everything looks good, and once she is satisfied, she channels her magic. With a bow of her head, she shoots a mild spell towards the parchment. The words on the scroll begin to glow, the scroll itself rises into the air and faces Swirl directly.

The unicorn takes a red ribbon from a scattered stack to her right and levitates it to the floating parchment. She rolls up the scroll in mid-air and wraps the ribbon around it neatly. She sets down the raveled and tied scroll next to three others.

“Huugh!” she sighs into the air and slumps backwards, her back resting on the front of the couch. She rubs her temples and closes her eyes tightly.

She cherishes a moment of blissful silence.

It does not last long - the door to her room is opened and two pegasi come trotting in. The irate unicorn looks over to the intruders, though the heat evaporates quickly at seeing Snowfall accompanying Bulletpoint. “Captain Snowfall?” she asks through her stupor. "It has been some time since you have made your presence here."

“It has," Snowfall confirms.

"What's it been," B.P thinks aloud, "three years?"

"That's right. After we had too much to drink during that year's Royal Ball. I never did say thank you for taking us in, Swirl."

"The pleasure was mine, captain," Swirl advocates.

"Well, besides dusting off our minds. I’m not interrupting you, am I?” she asks as she looks around the room, taking in the residence.

“No, captain, not at all. Please, make yourself comfortable. Sit, if you would like.”

She gives a quick nod of appreciation before returning to examining the room again. She then moves towards the two-cushion couch, speaking an observation as she sits down. “Not a lot’s changed in the last few years.”

“Nah, sheila likes her comfort,” Bulletpoint knocks at Swirl as he approaches her with the documents and sets them down on the table before her.

“I do not change what does not need it,” Swirl snarls. She hauls herself up so she sits on the couch rather than the floor. She manually reaches for the documents and takes them into her hooves.

“I know this is sudden,” Snowfall begins, “but Bulletpoint and I were having a discussion about current events. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. What’s your plan?”

Swirl furrows her brows at the folder she holds. “I regret to inform you that I currently do not have one. What I am looking for now is to find out how many cogs are being rearranged in the machine. My first COA is to find out what the Consortium is planning to do with the eye-witnesses to the event. I am waiting for my sister to return with the medical records, and depending on what they say, I will develop the plan further. I…” she drifts for a moment, her stern focus slightly turned for despondency, “… I also wish to ensure Moonlight’s safety. All things considered, she may be in some form of danger. After we have a solid hoof on the situation, we may attempt at Crimson’s imprisonment.”

“If you needed to know reassignments, I could have helped with that.”

“Yes. Thank you, captain. I suppose I could have brought this to your attention.”

“And get the same ass chewin’ I got?” Bulletpoint interjects.

“Because unlike you, B.P, she isn’t going to jump into the fire and burn her life away. She is focused and is gathering information. Not wanting to start a riot.”

“My way’s more fun.”

“Regardless,” Swirl continues, “concrete information will aid us in the formation of a solid plan, and I believe this is a step in the right direction.”

“This is a good start,” Snowfall compliments. “It’s a two-in-one. Study who’s getting moved around, and keep tabs on our prisoner.”

“That is exactly correct, captain.” Her orbs scan through the papers and writing, finding herself learning quite a bit about the Guard even without paying full attention. She continues skimming through it until she finds what she’s looking for.

“You lasses hungry?” Bulletpoint asks suddenly. “Ain’t had breakfast, with all this mess muckin’ about. Essie was plannin’ on whippin’ some eggs, but she’s still out. I’ll take her apron. Spicy hatches find ya’ fancies?”

“That is fine, thank you,” Swirl states.

“Sure, thanks,” Snowfall thanks after.

With this, the stallion puts up a grin and moves himself to the kitchen. He reaches into the fridge, taking out eggs and jalapenos, and one bottle of cold beer for himself. He takes it all into his wings and moves to the stove which already has a clean pan sitting on it. He reaches to a cabinet under the stove and takes out a bottle of avocado oil, setting it along with the rest of the ingredients.

Snowfall lets her eyes lazily track the stallion’s movements, almost without thinking about it. “Really, dude?”

“What?” Bulletpoint glances back at her briefly.

“Thought you quit drinking.”

“Keyword: ‘thought.’” Snowfall shakes her head at him disapprovingly. “You ain’t gonna write me up, are you, cap’n?”

“Have half a mind to.”

“Let the drunk chef work his magic, you keep Swirl company there.”

Dissatisfied, Snowfall returns her attention to Swirl. She feels as if she should have expected this, but figures it may be fairly harmless if he has made it this far. Nevertheless, she takes his advice and analyzes Swirl’s makeshift workplace. She bounces her eyes between everything that has been set on the table. She reclines back and gets comfortable. “… You write those scrolls?”

“I did. I finished just before you and Bulletpoint arrived.”

“What kind are they?”

“Teleportation scrolls, captain. They will be necessary for our upcoming tasks.”

“You don’t need to be so formal, Swirl. We’re technically off-duty.”

“Yes, cap-- …” she pauses her flipping through papers, just now internalizing her reactionary replies. “… Yes. Snowfall.”

“This is gonna take some getting used to, isn’t it?”

The stoic unicorn finds herself smiling slightly, forming a slight blush of embarrassment. “I believe it is.”

“Says you!” Bulletpoint scoffs playfully from the kitchen. Both mares look over to him, watching him take a deep swing of beer. He pops off the bottle. “Aaah!~ This is gonna be like orientation all over! Whole bloody family! Except this time, no Banta, and we gotta bash some heads.”

“This is not a game, Bulletpoint,” Swirl growls. “Once the Consortium realizes that we are plotting against them, there will be nothing to laugh about.”

“Laughin’ in the face of adversity is what we do best, lass,” he uses the spatula in his wing to flip an egg, letting it sizzle. “Mmm, mm! Eggs are a blessin’ from the stars, ya feel.” He looks over to the jalapenos set out on the counter. “Gonna start cuttin’ up the lil’ devils. Brace yeselves fer the spice.”

Snowfall waives him off and looks back to Swirl. “Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat something spicy. You any good at handling it?”

“I enjoy a mild heat. Anything too spicy becomes inedible, which is blatantly not the case for you and Bulletpoint.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Returning to the memories of the Royal Ball. I vividly recall the most recent ball we attended. You and Bulletpoint consumed several ears of Mexicolt corn. As if they were not spicy enough, you both added more powdered chili.”

Bulletpoint laughs into the air. “You remember the look on the color gua’ds faces? Them blokes almost cried just watchin’ us.”

Snowfall rests her head on the backrest of the couch. “It was something, alright. I also remember a rumor floating around the infantry that I couldn’t handle spicy food. Whoever started that BS probably got hazed for weeks.”

“I believe it was sergeant major Crystaline,” Swirl states.

“Somehow I don’t doubt you. She always had a big mouth.”

“’N opened legs,” Bulletpoint spits cynically. “Fackin’ type bedded half the gua’d.”

“Sounds like you have more than one complaint about her, B.P.”

“Ye! Crazy bitch done ruined my first date with PFC Tailwind! Night was goin’ just fine before she stormed into the restaurant we was at and started shoutin’ that I’m cheatin’ on her! We got kicked out. Pissed fer weeks, I was! I reserved a table at the Flamin’ Row four months in advance!”

“Very romantic, B.P.”

As Bulletpoint was speaking, the door to the room comes open, briefly drawing the attention of everyone. They see that Strix, musing and serious, comes in. She raises her brows at Bulletpoint before shutting the door behind her. “Are you talking about Crystaline?”

Bulletpoint and Snowfall share a snicker while Swirl keeps focused on the papers. “Ye,” the stallion affirms, “fackin’ crazy cunt. Leave it to her to take a night’s hanky and think it meant more.”

Strix walks to the living room to offer the medical records to Swirl. “B.P, you’re like… the reason she went crazy. You two had more than just one ‘hanky’ before you dumped her.”

“Oy! Blasphemy, Essie! Blasphemy!”

As Strix comes to the living room, she finally notices Snowfall relaxing on the couch. “I thought I heard a familiar voice! Good morning, captain! It’s good to see you!”

“Good morning,” she replies with a relaxed simper. “Good to see you too.”

“If you’re here, does that mean we have the best captain ever of all time helping us out with our, um… problem?”

To this, Swirl looks inquisitive and Bulletpoint terribly serious. The snowy pegasus remains silent for a moment, letting her gaze drift aside. “… I suppose four heads are better than three.” Bulletpoint cocks his arm out and in for a gesture of pure glee. “I already told B.P this, but it goes without saying. We’re not looking to defect. At least, not now. Not in the foreseeable future. Let’s keep our heads on and work silently. Our endgoal is to make sure our red-head gets somewhere safe, WITHOUT getting caught in the process. Is this understood?”

Strong, affirmative nods come from Bulletpoint and Swirl, while Strix closes her eyes and delivers a cheery beam. The yellow pegasus then proceeds to Swirl and hands her the documents.

Swirl puckers her lips lightly, forcing her sore mind to channel magic to take the documents from her sister. “Thank you, Strix. Were there any complications with obtaining this information?”

The smile that was on her face from Snowfall’s presence fades away. “No problems, sis, just…” her ears fall to her head, “I had to lie to my friend. It didn’t feel good… but I guess that’s the least of our worries now.”

“Do not feel guilty, sister. This was a necessary step, and the head nurse will not be harmed. The Consortium will likely never know she assisted us. I am glad we were able to obtain this information without raising suspicion.”

Strix nods, putting up a half-hearted smile to the encouragement. She then looks back to Bulletpoint, who is sizzling up the kitchen. She trots toward him, standing right next to him and looking into the pan that radiates a poky smell. “Spicy hatches?”

“Know it, sheila.” He turns off the stove, letting the heat settle. “Wanna help me get these shites served up?”

“Mm!~” Strix nods, moving to the hanging cupboards to retrieve some plates.

As breakfast is distributed and enjoyed, Swirl continues analyzing the information in front of her.

‎

---

‎

It is feeling too familiar, being locked up without the ability to tell time. He lays on the bed he does not fit on, his legs and arms hang off the edges. He glares at the ceiling, his heart beats in his ears, his aggression rises at each second passing him by. He is forced to wait again. Forced to wait for an opportunity to present itself. Perhaps not an opportunity, but an ultimatum.

It has been some time since anyone has appeared at his cell. There is no sign of it happening any time soon either. He has half a mind to try breaking the bars again. Or the wall, even. It is all underground, he knows he will not get far, but maybe cause some property damage just to spite them.

He does what he is forced to do and entertains himself with his thoughts.

‎

---

‎

“You are not clever,” Swirl suddenly grits venomously at the paper she reads. The three others around her, filled with breakfast and simply exchanging small talk on the couches, focus on the irritated mare.

“What’s wrong, sis?” Strix asks.

“Moonlight was repossessed by Doctor Ivy. I have always been skeptical about him, but now I know for certain he is an infiltrator.”

“Maybe the treatment was elevated,” Snowfall suggests. “He’s the Castle’s most prestigious doctor, it would only make sense.”

“Not in this case, captain. Even if the treatment was elevated, Nurse Redheart has always taken care of Moonlight. I support my claim using the incident with her previous partner, Crescent Cool. Her treatment was elevated twice, but Redheart remained as her assigned caretaker. They simply gave her access to more funds and equipment. Despite her title as ‘nurse,’ she is capable of as much, if not more than the Canterlot’s best therapists and ER’s doctors. Her skills are simply not stated in a paper given at a graduation, and that has been fine for her entire working career. Until now. There should have been no reason to reassign her to Ivy, not unless the treatments or her therapy involves… relinquishing of sensitive information. This stunt is too obvious. These despicable fools are not clever.”

Everyone acknowledges Swirl silently, admiring her attunement.

“Unfortunately this is not the audit I was hoping to receive, it is missing information – most importantly, the calendar. I see that she may have requested to return home to Baltimare. If she remains in the Infirmary, our situation is much simpler, implying courtesy visits do not get restricted. But in the event that they allow her to return home, as indicated by her medical equipment shipment route suggestion, we would be left in the dark.”

“I’m sorry, Swirly,” Strix apologizes with a bowed head. “I should have made the nurse get me an actual audit, I just, like…”

“Do not worry sister, it would have taken too long and it would have been very difficult to obtain without raising suspicion. The most important information is already in our possession, it is simply that there is a raised risk not knowing the calendar, especially since the nature of Moonlight’s monitoring may have somepony present at all times.”

“Maybe set up a recon?” Bulletpoint comments. “See if she tails it home or stays put?”

“I don’t think recon would be a good idea,” Snowfall denies. “Suspicion would be too high. We don’t have any business down at the Infirmary. Strix already showed her face once. If she lied to get that info, it’ll only make things worse.”

“I agree with Snowfall,” Swirl says. “Though the risk is there, the best course of action we can currently take is unrefined. I have assembled a plan, albeit hasty. I shall wait until three AM tonight, hope nopony is in the room with her, and attempt to obtain information directly from her.”

“If you’re caught?” Snowfall follows up.

“Then… we take Moonlight. It is easiest to play it off as a kidnapping rather than have the Consortium believe she is working with us. The last thing I would ever want to do is condemn her to our fate. We take her, we take our essentials, and we leave Canterlot. I… am not sure where we would go, but we cannot stay here if any one of us is exposed.”

“Risky is right,” Bulletpoint interjects. “But I’m all for it. By the time them needle-‘eads down there ring us out, we’ll be outside city walls.”

“I know a cosy little cave at the base of the mountain we can hide out in!” Strix suggests. “I got caught in a really bad thunderstorm when I was younger, and I found it! I visit it sometimes, there’s no bears or anything in it!”

Snowfall looks away and tilts her head. “That’s an option.”

“Not an optimal one,” Swirl furrows her brows, “but yes. It is an option. If all goes well, there will be no need for it. But…” she looks at her sister who had begun to frown at her harsh words. “… Thank you for giving us a plan b, sister.”

Strix brightens and nods quickly.

"Plan b couldn't hurt," Bulletpoint begins, "'specially since shit can get right facked on the quicks. Ain't mean to be the downer 'ere, but... had some wild nightmares last night. Ain’t givin’ me a good feelin’."

Strix gasps. "You too? I had a really, really bad dream last night, it didn't let me sleep! I dreamt that, there was this crowd of scary looking ponies. And Crimson was there, but, like..." she stops herself from finishing, not exactly wanting to recount what she dreamt.

"... Think I might know where that goes, Strix," Snowfall explains. "It isn't pretty."

"Strange," Swirl suddenly murmurs. "I, too, had a nightmare. Unsettling, as you all have described. To me, it felt… like an execution. Hisexecution."

“Couldn’t just be a coincidence,” Bulletpoint adds.

"Maybe, maybe not,” Snowfall says, “but one thing I’m sure of, this whole situation is stressing us all out."

"You can say that again," Strix agrees.

The stallion nods, "Whole world's gone topsy-turvy."

Swirl comes off the couch and onto her fours, trying to block out the ill omens filling the air. “I will retire early today. The dead of night calls for my attention. With any luck, another nightmare will not strike my sleep.”

“Rest well,” Snowfall calls to her. “We’ll keep racking our heads, and I’ll make sure these two don’t make too much noise.”

“Oy!” “Hey!”

Swirl thankfully bows her head to Snowfall before she continues towards her room. She enters and closes the door behind herself, encompassed in the darkness of her unlit room.

Her head lowers and she exhales slowly, trying to breathe out much of the stress she is feeling. She walks to her bed and crawls onto it, resting on her side, giving her back to the door. Her listless gaze falls upon a trophy on a stand propped up on the wall. A second place trophy she earned in the Magic Academy when she competed in the senior science fare. Second place… right behind the future Head Researcher.

Memories keep attacking her mind, keeping her awake for much longer than she would like. She is grateful that the three outside are indeed keeping quiet. That helps... a little.

It takes too long to get some sleep, but she manages it at some point.

‎
‎

---

‎
‎

… No, that would not work, he thinks. He could instead try bringing out his Arch as hard as possible for a split second, then punch the bars? Maybe before the collar gets him. Something like that. ... Probably would not work either.

He has toiled his brain with so many ways to escape using his Arch, already having expended his imagination with typical methods. The more he thinks about his powers, the angrier he becomes. The more he realizes that any attempts at using them are futile, he becomes even more pissed.

He almost feels like asking it ‘why.’ Why does it work when it feels like it? Not when he wants it to. He has avoided this path of thought many times throughout his life, but it has become unavoidable. An idea fills him with dread – the idea that a parasite lives inside him and controls him upon will. Perhaps his Arch is an entity all its own, with its own aspirations and sense of self-preservation. He is horrified to think that he is simply a catalyst for the will of something else.

It is a 'something else' that really does not like him. And he thinks, just maybe, he does not like it in return. More than that, he might just hate it.

“So you hate yourself?”

Crimson sits up quickly on his bed, looking between the bars of his cell. There’s no one there.

“We both know I ain’t that cynical.”

He snaps his head to the right, towards the sound of his voice with dilated eyes. And there he sees it, himself, resting against the wall next to the toilet. This duplicate of him wears exactly what he currently wears, his hair is red and flows back naturally as his does.

“You…" Crimson begins in stupor, "... you again.”

“Me again.”

“But I ain’t… I ain’t in the Rift. I don’t even know how the fuck to get back there, with this god damn thing around my neck. How’re you here? Why are you here?”

“Come on now, don’t be like that,” the visage smiles. “Everyone talks to themselves. That’s all yer doin’. It’s normal.”

“Not literally. I’m fully conscious. Least I think I am. How’re you here?”

“I can’t be sayin’ what I think I’m sayin’. I don’t remember doin’ exactly this? Years ‘n years ago?”

“Right, now, don’t talk like that. It’s confusing as all hell.”

The visage rolls his eyes. “YOU don’t remember, then?”

“Mean, I do, but… that was a long time ago. I was a kid. Young ‘n stupid. Thought I was just imaginin’ things.”

“Nothin’ stupid about it, partner. Viola did it too. Did it all the time.”

Crimson lets his head hand as he brings his palm up to his forehead. "God, I've fuckin' lost it. I've gone total cuckoo-kazoo.”

“Who am I to say otherwise.”

Furrowing his brows, he delivers a very judgmental gaze to his visage. “What’re you even doin’ here?”

“Well ain't that sweet. Askin' me what I'm doin' here when you beckoned me over.”

Crimson stops, really trying to internalize what the fuck is happening. He he started talking to himself, aggressively calling out one of his deepest regrets. “I ain't think of it much when I was young, but now I think I know who you are.”

"Really now."

"Yeah. You're my Arch."

Lining his lips and looking terribly unimpressed, the visage sighs. “I ain’t yer Arch. I’m you."

"Nah, ‘cuz that don’t make sense."

"Think of it in any which way that floats yer boat.”

“Well I don’t see other folk talking to a figment of themselves like me ‘r Viola did.”

“Let’s worry about abstract concepts later. Why’re you belly achin’ about me? That shit you were sayin’, that I don’t listen?”

Crimson kicks his legs off the side of the bed and sits on the edge, glaring up at the visage sternly. “Yeah, you fuckin’ don’t. I try wakin’ yer lazy ass up, ‘n this god damn thing puts me down like a dog," he grips the collar again for emphasis. "You tell me if there’s anythin’ wrong with that scene.”

“Do you even know what yer talkin’ about?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Genuinely, do you know what you’re sayin’? ‘Wake you up.’ Wake what up?”

“What else? You!” he points an accusative finger at his visage.

“You’re one dense motherfucker, ain’tcha?”

“Then enlighten me, wise one. In yer blessed, perfect perspective, what SHOULD I be doin’? Holdin’ hands with you ‘n singin’ Silent Night? How the fuck do I make my Arch 'work?'”

“Fer one, gettin’ yer head outta yer ass. That’ll be a start.” Crimson squints. “Second, shut up, and calm down. You ain’t gonna get nowhere when all you keep doin’ is gettin’ aimlessly pissed off. It’s like everythin’ you learned takin’ on the Black Spurs leaked outta yer left ear.”

“Haven’t forgot nothin’.”

“You haven’t?” the visage raises both brows and wrinkles his forehead. “Then show me. ‘Wake me up’ in yer own words. Wake me up ‘n break the fuck outta here. We both know you can. Yer strong enough to do it.”

Crimson glowers at him and rises to his feet. He walks to his visage, facing it directly. The sleazy copy of the man remains reclined on the wall, looking uninterested. Crimson clenches his fists, scowls at the visage, and tenses his body. "Nrh--" his eyes glow golden, but for a second, "-- Rrhh!" The collar around his neck sends that vile shock across his body. His eyes stop glowing, the metal of the collar pulses, and he falls onto one knee.

"Bravo," the visage sarcastically says as he raises his hands to clap heavily three times.

"Eat shit," Crimson spits while facing the ground, getting himself composed. He rises onto his feet, trembling slightly from the shock. He returns to giving the visage a violent stare-down. "So what? Here to mock me? Real useful of you."

"Like I said, yer the one who called me here."

"Yeah? Then why haven't you ever shown up before? Why did you only show up ONCE in the Rift and nowhere else?" He leans in closer as he speaks, noses nearly touching as they give each other harsh glares.

"You know the answer to that, smartass. When have you ever stopped to think about me? You? Since we got to Equestria, when have you really stopped to think about you? Me? Yeah, you'll talk to Moonlight about me. You'll let Swirl test yer blood. But what about stopping. Sittin' the fuck down. And takin' a breath? Have you even tried asking yourself is what yer doin' is worth it?”

Crimson puckers his lips to respond, falling contemplative, but is cut off quickly by his visage.

“No, you haven’t. ‘Cuz if you did, you wouldn’t like the answer. Face it, you’ve fucked yourself with everything you’ve done. You put yerself in this position. Sure, that stupid bitch Fate put us here, but findin’ a way back is on us. You know what would have made everythin’ easier?”

“Don’t even say it.”

“No, no. I will. ‘Cuz you need to hear it. You wouldn’t be here, locked up like an animal, had you just used yer Arch from the very start.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls angrily, driving his fist into the wall just besides the visage’s head, breaking a knuckle-shaped crater into it. The visage looks less than impressed. “I stomped the Spurs into the fuckin’ GROUND without usin’ that plague that ruined our family. Looks like you forgot WHY the Spurs wouldn’t let us go to begin with.”

“Haven’t forgotten, partner. But you sure as hell forgot what Vigil told mama, didn’t’cha?”

Crimson remains silent.

“… ‘Course you remember. You’re just unbelievably thick-headed. Vigil told mama that the Spurs wouldn’t leave our family alone because of our gift. They wanted to use us for their gain… but Vigil laughed. He laughed and told ma, ‘if they wanna see what we’re capable of, we’ll show ‘em. We’ll show ‘em until they’re all dead.’ Even big brother knew to use his gift, and he hated it more than you do.”

“Seems like you forgot about the part where Vigil got killed. I didn’t.”

“Shut up, you stupid bastard. He got killed protectin’ mama and Viola, not to mention your sorry ass. Vigil was reckless, and mama always told him he was. Much more reckless than you, and you’re easily the most foolhardy piece of shit I know. You beat the Spurs because you played it smart. You didn’t go gun-ho like Vigil or dad. Now imagine how much easier dealin’ with those scumbags would’a been if you not only played it smart, but also used yer Arch?”

Gritting his teeth, Crimson turns his gaze away spitefully. “But I didn’t need it. I beat them without givin’ into that plague. Michael didn’t get to see what he wanted to see. He died with a hole in his heart, and that alone makes me happy.”

The visage shakes his head ruefully, sighing through his nose. “… Stubborn as a rock. You know what? Sure, let’s give you some room to wiggle in. Let’s accept the fact you DID take on the Spurs without yer Arch. Great. Good fuckin’ job, you and Viola only had to suffer a shit-load for it. Now we’re here, in Equestria, with the Horseshoes. Despite their strikin’ resemblance to the Spurs, they AIN’T the Spurs. That’s somethin’ you don’t realize, and it’s painful as all hell. These fuckin’ ponies have magic, boy. Magic. You even said it yerself, ‘somethin’ outta a fuckin’ fairy tail.’ You really expect yer dumb luck to translate in a place like this?”

Crimson holds his anger towards himself, but finds that he is unable to give a proper retort that is not simply vulgarities. He turns his face away, giving his visage a semblance of victory.

"What I thought, partner. You don't take a moment to stop and think about anythin'. Fer someone who spent a lot of time critically thinkin’ and using them skills to take on the Spurs, you’ve forgotten everythin’."

"You speak mighty fine fer someone who don't bother to show up first. I have to do it? Why me?"

"I need to speak to you? What, you think a reflection in a mirror's gonna leap out 'n find you to talk to you? What kinda sideways bullshit thinkin' is that? No, partner. YOU walk up to the mirror. YOU look at yerself in the reflection. Your own ponderance starts with ‘you.’"

Crimson squints his eyes, finding himself put in a corner again. His solid front falls for a deep sigh and the drooping of his shoulders. He walks back to the bed and sits down on the edge again, keeping his eyes planted on the ground.

"There some deep down problems you need to give some time to, James. It starts with givin' time to yerself. And I’ll be here. I’ll be here to piss you off when you need it most. Remember what I said.”

Both of their heads look towards the bars of the cell when a loud clack is heard on the other side. Sounds like a door of some sort was opened far above them, possibly the heavy doors that bar off the Dungeon from the rest of the Castle.

They both share a look, equally taking serious contemplation. The visage speaks up again, "Looks like we got company."

Crimson blinks as his autonomous conscious drives him to. With that flashing moment, his visage disappears before his eyes reopen. His muse runs on overdrive, his gaze falls to the concrete floor.

Once the sound of hoofsteps draws closer and more audible, he focuses past the bars of the cell again.

What comes into view causes his anger to spike instantly. Princess Celestia and an unnamed unicorn present themselves at the front of the cell. This unicorn is of a deep green coat and a grey mane, one with streaks of yellow across the length.

The man comes up quickly and marches to them, standing directly in front of the bars. Before any words are exchanged, they share a heavy silence through weighty stares.

Celestia begins, "This is him, Doctor Ivy."

"So it would appear," the stallion speaks up with a growing simper. "The one who's costed our operations more money than every natural disaster in the last thirty years combined. That stunt he pulled in the western ports was impressive, wouldn't you say, Celestia?"

"Indeed," she affirms.

"Got a lot of nerve showin' me yer face, coward," the man grumbles to the white alicorn.

"There is no need for that, Crimson. Let us be as civil and professional as we can during our interactions."

"Shove it up yer ass, yer highness."

The mare shakes her head slowly, reproachfully. "To think you were once a valued asset to the Guard. Yet you have chosen this as your end."

"And you chose bein' a spineless shit. Wearin' gold don't make yer cowardice vanish. You couldn't get away from the Horseshoes, and here you are again... bowin' down to 'em." He shifts his narrowed eyes to the amused stallion. "Who's this fuckin' clown? Doctor what-ever-the-fuck?" The stallion loses his smile very quickly.

"Celestia, keep the prisoner in check. You wouldn't want him killed before the presentation."

Celestia's brows line the top of her eyes. "Do not make this harder on yourself. Please be mindful of your words and actions. If you demonstrate sincerity and cooperation, they may consider adopting you into their--"

"Jesus, shut the fuck up." Crimson interrupts her. "Do you hear the shit comin' out of yer mouth? 'Cooperation?' 'Adopting?' What do you take me for, Celestia? A gutless fuckin' craven like you?"

"Crimson. Please."

The man rolls his tongue, hacks loudly, and spits through the bars right at the stallion. The projectile glob lands on top of the stallion's mane. The stallion shows pure bemusement on his expression, raising his brows with little excitement.

Gritting her teeth, Celestia channels her horn and shoots a beam of offensive magic at Crimson. As if he anticipated this, he throws his upper body to the side, dodging the magic which burns the wall far behind him. Both oppressors take displeasure at his cunning, where the stallion channels his lime magic to grasp the man and hold him still, while Celestia shoots another beam at him.

Crimson is not able to fight the single unicorn's magic fast enough, it feels much stronger than a typical mage's. Celestia's sunfire projectile hits him in the chest, burning right through his clothes, knocking him out of the green magic and sending him back. He keeps himself from falling over with a frantic stagger. He slouches and holds the circle on his chest that glows with yellow magic. He grits his teeth and grunts at the searing pain concentrated on his plexus - as if a terribly hot lightbulb was constantly being held to his skin.

Oddly, Ivy appears impressed, as if he gauged the man’s resistance or survivability against powerful magic.

"Cease immediately," Celestia demands, taking out a handkerchief from behind her breastplate with her magic. She offers it quickly to Ivy, who takes it lackadaisically and cleans his mane. "Your tricks and slyness will not help you here, Crimson. This is your first and only warning. It is in your best interest to act accordingly."

The consistent pain keeps him from immediately replying. He only glares back at them in spite.

"He is very feisty," the stallion comments bitterly to Celestia. "Would you recommend extra protection for our benefactors?"

"Yes. As you can see, he has no intention on cooperating. He is very strong, you would not want to leave it to chance."

"Agreed. If he is able to take on a dragon, it's better to be safe than sorry. We'll get the request sent tonight and hopefully get him transported by tomorrow evening. Ensure that he causes no more trouble before his departure."

Celestia nods. "I will make sure of it. Thank you, Doctor Ivy."

"No, thank you, Celestia. Through your aid, we have the thorn on our side finally pinched. We will soon pluck it. Then, all we need now is to find his associates. Everything will be back on track once we can clear them out."

The man watches them both turn to walk away. Celestia glares with her pink orbs at him before she does. A last lingering stare that tells him too many things at once. Disappointment. Anger. Disdain.

... Regret.

Crimson returns the stare with only one very clear emotion. Hate. The man hears them chatter as they leave before their voices become too distant.

"Your bonuses, as we discussed, will be granted once we transport him. The third railway you requested will be set, as well as the orphanage in Deltrot will be constructed."

"You are very kind, Doctor. The ponies of north-east Equestria will be very delighted with your services."

Then, it becomes too difficult to decipher. Not just their voices... everything.

Next Chapter: Judgement Calling Estimated time remaining: 3 Hours, 50 Minutes