---

Pinkie stared into the dim firelight. A small blaze twisted and danced within the grasping pull of the wind. She leaned into it, blowing gently to coax them to grow, but her breath hardly budged them. Her sigh did little to express her disappointment. She then hugged the side of her body to the wall in an attempt to hide from the breeze.

The trees groaned and lashed their branches at the sky. The seeking wind pushed forward, making the embers flicker once again. The shadows spasmed on the wall while the fire weakened and fizzled out beneath the teepee of sticks.

Shaggy moss covered the entrance and only a path of light provided by the stars poked through the overhang of the willow trees. During the time she had spent there, crouched under a crack in the hillside, she had built a nest of forest debris.

The leftover sticks that were not rubbed thin were carefully placed within a bed of stripped fiber from cattails. Leaves that were harvested from the ground were fed to the flames to keep the campfire thriving, but the wind was persistent.

It blew once more, combing through Pinkie’s fur and causing her to shiver. She curled tighter into herself to seek warmth before puffing hot air into her hooves.

Her stomach gurgled, and her tongue ached. She was thirsty and desperately wanted to slate both urges. Whether it be the leaves or the sticks, both were appetizing on an empty stomach.

She placed a hoof on her abdomen. There were gurgles and squeals from where it had been placed, but her stomach's calls were ignored. She had eaten some of the vegetation, shamelessly, a pony had to eat after all. It just wasn't agreeing with her.

The warmth was fading out. Even though it absorbed well in the small room she was nestled in, without the source, the wind would drown it. Her hooves ached from the first attempt at making a fire. Within her hoof, rocks and dirt were smushed within the smallest crevices and caked with nature's grime. Now, these little bundles of joy had a new neighbor who happened to be a family of throbbing splinters.

She slowly picked herself up from her temporary bed and peeled herself off from the wall. One barren stick and a log laid beside the barrier of rocks built around the campfire. She scooped the first up, then the second, before angling it within the charred hole. The slab was frail and burnt from her last attempts, but it appeared to still have some juice left for another go.

She rolled her hooves up and down the angled stick, while she melted into her thoughts.

She thought about her sisters, the wyrm, and her friends.

The sharp smell of smoke alerted her to a glowing ember, but her eyes never wandered downward. Why would her sisters lie about such a strange thing? Especially, Maud. Did Pinkie happen to do something wrong to misplace their trust?

Her speed increased, and the haze grew denser.

It wasn't like Pinkie would ever mean to push them away. A family wouldn’t ever lie to each other, especially about giant wyrms that could destroy Canterlot! Limestone was evasive about it, Marble avoided confrontation, and Maud straight up lied to her face!

The smoke’s odor was becoming rancid, yet still, Pinkie kept rubbing.

"...If Maud lied, why didn't her pants light on fire? That would have been a dead giveaway... but then again, Maud doesn't wear pants. If she did, oh-ho-ho Pinkie Responsibility Diane Pie would've known, I take lies veeeeery seriously. Fool me once shame on you because it was the only day you lied without pants!”

A shadow uncurled from her position on the dirt. Pinkie paid her no mind and continued to grumble without addressing the wisps of smoke batting at her nose and eyes.

“....Pinkie—”

It was if her words were never said as Pinkie's gaze lingered far from where she was staring. Her mind had been in a different world, along with her senses.

“—There is supposed to be fire when somepony lies. It’s science! Somepony is getting pants for their birthday. I'm not gonna allow another oopsie-daisy like this to happen no-sirree!”

Pinkmena leaned forward, the light glistening in her cherry eyes. Her head was angled downward, brows narrowed, before flicking back up to rest on Pinkie’s face.

“Pinkie… you’re on fire.”

"Alright, you got me. I'm not totally serious about pants for Maud's birthday, bleh, but if this keeps up, she is so totally disqualified from the PSSSD this year! I'll borrow Applejack this time, 'cause at least she'll stand by being honest! I also heard she's a good back up for the Sister Hooves—"

"Pinkie, I know you're scatterbrained, but you're on fire. Literal fire."

“Hmm?” She responded, climbing back down to reality for mere moments. Her nose tinged with a grimace. “Sheesh, somepony overcooked the chimichangas. Something smells burnt.”

Pinkie felt heat near her cheek as it slowly absorbed into her shoulder. Her mane was covered in hot ribbons of light, which had bred a small trail of flames. They had jumped from the inferno within the log, before infecting the dry rat's nest upon her head.

“Oh, well, would you look at that.” Pinkie whispered in a dry laugh. “I happen to be on fire.”

The flames intensified, making Pinkie squeal. Her cheeks filled with air before she tried to snuff them out with her own breath in rapid puffs.

"Don't blow on the fire; it makes it grow—oh, just forget it." Pinkamena dismissed, rolling over onto her left shoulder. "It's not like anyone listens to me anyway."

She, unfortunately, she heard the warning after she had blown all the air from her lungs. Her lips sputtered, and her stomach shriveled, once she realized the flames weren't shrinking. They were growing. Oh, how silly of her to forget.

Oxygen made flames grow.

Pinkie's screech cut through the night like a braying foghorn. A tail of smoke followed her as she dropped and rolled into the dirt. She rubbed her back within it vigorously. Her hooves were bent, perked, and out of harm's way while she mimicked that of a mutt's itch on the grass. Pinkamena's cheek rested beside the print in the loose gravel with eyes that observed Pinkie's entertaining circus show. Her lips were neutral, however, neither upturned nor frowned as if she were trying to conceal her amusement.

"Ooo, Ooo! This isn't fun. Okay it's really starting to burn!"

Pinkamena crossed her forelimbs with a mocking curl bending her cheeks. "Yes, fire is known to do that. Or so I've heard."

Well, thanks, Pinkamena. Very helpful. Her eyesight was warbling due to the unwanted light in her peripheral vision. Maybe her observing friend could show some sympathy from time to time, it would be much appreciated. Her opinions of Pinkamena were, however, placed on the back burner. Maybe if she looked somewhat pitiful, she’d help. Probably not, but it was worth a shot.

Pinkie gave a pleading whimper and pawed at the air.

"Pinkie, I don't know what you want me to do."

She swatted again, sagging her bottom lip. Pinkamena's quick dismissiveness was almost automatic and instinctual. Her head had already turned away from the scene. Pinkie caught her saucy side-eye, though. The firelight produced by her mane revealed the mare's crimson eyes angled just enough to peek at her.

The Element of Laughter gave her a timid grin.

"Go jump in a lake," The illusion responded. Pinkie's forehead creased, and her grin bent into an exasperated frown.

"That's rude, I don't tell you to go jump in a lake when you're on fire!"

"What? I've never been on— Pinkie, I'm telling you how to get rid of it! Go to the small pond, or lake, whatever it is. Okay?"

Pinkamena hovered her hoof before extending it outward and gestured to the shallow pond. The reeds and cattails Pinkie had collected earlier surrounded it. They created a protective ring around the bank. Thankfully, it wasn't much of a chore to tear them down to get into the cool watery relief below. Pinkie didn’t hesitate in waddling through the grass when reminding herself about a fire’s natural enemy. She cleaved her way past the vegetation and her follower didn't stray far. Well, at least not with her eyes, she didn’t appear too excited to climb into the swamp.

Pinkie stumbled, and suddenly barreled headfirst into the mud. Pinkie's face slapped right onto the surface of the goop with a wet plop. She murmured with gritted teeth, before pulling herself from the suction that hugged her figure. Mud dribbled from her chin and mane, but the fire had somehow survived even though her cleanliness didn't. She stood once more, and her stance was interrupted by the slippery bank by the pond's edge. She was unable to pull free, and she flailed into the water with spasming limbs. Even underwater she could hear Pinkamena cackling since she had a great view of the show.

She broke the surface and gulped whatever air she could knab! The water wasn’t refreshing, warm, or even lukewarm. It was freezing to the point where Pinkie regretted the fire's warmth.

"This is just a horrible-terrible-no-good-very-bad day!" Pinkie piped, the teeth in her mouth grinding from the cold. "-I-I..."

Tears pricked her eyes. The gleaming pearls stationed on her cheeks quickly began to roll down in clumps. She reached out for the hanging roots by the water's edge to anchor herself. This night was one of the worst nights she had ever had by far. She was cold, wet, hungry, and confused. Maud and her sisters had lied to her, her friends had disowned her, and now Pinkamena was mocking her.

"I... I can't take this anymore."

Her voice was withered. Pinkie's hoof continued to linger on the waterlogged dirt mound so that she wouldn't drift away. She tried to stitch herself together, desperately. She sniveled, and the laughter cut off like an unplugged radio. Just, silence, all of a sudden. The dejected pony threw her elbow over the bank before dragging herself up and out of the water. She then flopped upon the grass, which had been slathered in collected mud. Pinkamena was dead silent, but Pinkie was too exhausted to even glance in her direction. The cold nipped at her dampened skin, she was out of breath, and her body was sore. She grimaced at these new and combined sensations, before clamping her forelimbs to her sides to preserve her remaining body heat.

Why did Pinkamena always feel the need to mock her? Did she do something to be under constant fire? She rolled the memories back and forth in her mind. Her goal was to thumb through the years as if they had occurred yesterday, to investigate and understand. The glass and the chains, as well as her nickname: ' the shunned mare in the mirror,' all had some kind of connection. Her anger was unfocused, and she lashed out far too often for there not to be a reason.

Then it clicked. Pinkie was the reason.

Wasn't she?

She was the reason she was caged, hated, and labeled a burden. Under all the thorns she had poised to defend herself, Pinkamena was truly caring. If her illusion was here to cause nothing but trouble as everypony had said, why did she make such an effort to help her?

“...Everything I’ve been thinking, it’s wrong.”

She didn't need to get rid of Pinkamena. She needed to make peace. There was no reason to fight or to belittle her anymore. Fluttershy had always said she needed to get rid of her problems, but Pinkie wanted to make peace with her inner demons.

She could see Pinkamena's lips slightly part, but no words followed. For so long, there had been a hardness in her companion's eyes. Ever so slowly, their adventure had chipped away at it. Perhaps there was a lesson in all of this? Maybe she shouldn't have fled from these problems for so long. Why was she acting as if Pinkamena was a curse?

By turning her back on Pinkamena, her illusion started to resent her. Even though she was convinced this mare was a terror over and over, it served no purpose. At the end of the day, she was Pinkie's problem, and only she could see and judge her character. Regardless if Pinkamena was real it still solved nothing. Her friends and doctors could label her dangerous and a voice in her head all they wanted, but she was a helpful voice. Pinkie had been going about this all wrong. Of course the mare in the mirror didn’t trust her. Pinkie had been trying to shake her since she was born!

No pony would feel inclined to connect with her if she treated them like that.

Pinkie wasn't as observant as others, but when Pinkamena’s hooves clicked on the stone when bouncing down to the ground level, there was noise. It didn't matter how short her attention span was, or where her attention happened; that sound couldn't have been missed or ignored. Pinkie Pie had many oddities in her life, Pinkamena however, was a mystery that easily claimed the top spot on her list every time. There was no doubt her influence helped save her life, and how dare she validate treating her like a criminal!

Pinkie didn't know how she'd pull this off, but everything the doctors had said officially was flushed down the drain. She was going to do things a different way, her way.

Pinkie's breaths were ragged, and they pushed clouds of mist into the air. The curled tip of her mane had fallen limp upon her nose, dribbling water onto her chest. She knew the cave uphill would be warmer, yet she couldn’t find the will to move.

“Pinkie, you’re going to freeze. You need a source of heat to stabilize—”

“It’s too cold to mooove.” Pinkie whined, volleying her response, “—The wind hurts, I’m bad at rubbing sticks, and I’m contemplating my life choices. This grass isn’t so bad, a little scratchy, but it’ll do.”

“For the love of—ugh!" Her voice echoed but eventually fell out of range.

The irritating tip of her mane plopped a large drop onto her collarbone. She then clamped her hoof around it. Wringing the strand free of water, she flicked her forelimbs to her sides before brushing it back into its proper place. The silence was bitter, and her testy follower's voice had fallen quiet. Pinkie rolled onto her right side before weeding her gaze past the reed stalks and into the cave. Pinkamena had vanished.

Her lips fell, her neutral expression now crooked from a frown. Nothing remained of Pinkamena’s presence, not even the usual feeling of foreboding she brought.

Pinkie didn't think Pinkamena was a lousy pony. She just wished the fighting was somewhat lessened over the time they spent together. The mare in the mirror did save her from the Timberwolves, even when subtracting the weird event that occurred. Without her encouragement, she would have never found the courage to get up. The mare was obviously a lot softer after what they had been through, and maybe, just maybe, Pinkie could coax her armor to break a little more.

After all, in these moments, they only had each other.

A glint of light shimmered in the distance. The gathering source of warmth washed over the shadows to invade the darkness. It hitched Pinkie’s attention and jerked it toward the flames.

Within the abandoned bed of flaked ash, her campfire was alight with fresh embers. Now that the cave had been illuminated, Pinkamena was visible behind the inviting veil of warmth. Their eyes met, Pinkie's eyebrows knit in suspicion, whereas hers just held a twinkling luster.

“That’s—”

Pinkie was stopped before she could investigate further.

"There were some embers still emerging from your last attempt, Ponk. The sticks you were rubbing ignited here too. A fire has to be nurtured a bit before it grows. You didn't do so bad, see?"

She gestured to the healthy flames. Pinkamena then once more tethered their gazes. Pinkie’s face remained solemn, she wasn't buying it in the slightest.

“Just get in here! Seriously, you are acting as if you want to freeze. You can’t be cold and wet. It's just a free invitation for hypothermia!”

Pinkamena was rankled by the prying eyes beaming through the shadows. Surprisingly Pinkie’s response didn’t match her suspicious expression.

“I dunno, everypony loves a free invitation-”

“Get in here!” The mare shouted, her temper thinning to that of a hair-trigger.

Pinkie had untangled herself from the grass in an instant in fear of being chastised for not obeying. She avoided the furrowed brows aimed in her direction by being evasive. She didn't want to look at Pinkamena's ridged cords that snaked up her neck in anger. She wasn't one to have a temper. She was more mischievous and snarky, and Pinkie would agree to call her the choleric type.

The winds were definitely biting, and she couldn't help but let her teeth clatter again.

Once her shadow had morphed with that of the firelight, Pinkamena's presence only lingered a few meters. Her eyes were drawn to the ground to once more dodge that expression.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Pinkie's eyes darted upward to study her reaction. She was relieved to see the strain in her eyes had softened. The leer had morphed into one of gentleness, and even though Pinkamena masked her emotions well, she had obviously panicked.

With a voice one might use on a skittish foal, Pinkamena addressed her. "Pinkie, this world isn't easy on ponies like you. You were nearly mauled by Timberwolves a few hours ago, you lit yourself on fire, and then you didn't take measures to heat yourself back up. If you don't stop being so careless, this forest is going to eat you alive!"

She felt a little ashamed at how easily she had given up tonight. The timberwolves were one thing, but curling up into a ball again because she had one moment of uncertainty was embarrassing. She felt herself flash what appeared to be a half-baked grin at her hallucination.

The mare’s nostrils flared from breathing out a sigh, draining the tension from her eyes. “I know you’re having a bad night, but you have to listen to me… at least just once.”

Pinkamena took a lazy stride to the far end of the wall before nuzzling her stomach into the dirt. Once she had found a suitable position, she outstretched her legs with a glance that directed Pinkie back to her temporary bedding.

“—I also wasn't worried. Now sit. Get warm.”

Pinkie flopped onto her heap of weeds, scattering orbs of pollen. She wiggled around for a bit. Then when she found a spot, she settled, with her chin on the ground and nose pointed toward the fire.

Her gaze wandered back to her familiar, her curiosity clearly not satisfied, "Mena, what pushed those rocks?"

“They fell, now go to sleep.” She grunted with her eyes lightly pressed closed.

"Nu-uh, I've lived on a quarry for a pretty long time. My knowledge on things like this are pretty rock-solid. Landslides like that don't just happen during the dry season, and they definitely don't crack like that before they fall. Kinda suspicious, don't ya think?"

There was a nettled grumble before Pinkamena flipped onto her other side to cut off communication. It was unsuccessful.

“Also, you as you said, fire takes a while to grow, right? How did it grow when it wasn't even lit in the first place? I threw my tools waaaaay over there, and now they are waaaaay over here… near the fire, where I didn't leave them. Strange, could-of sworn I've always had a photographic memory to where small details like that don't get mixed up."

“Pinkie it’s four-something in the morning, I beg of you, please go to sleep I’m exhausted!”

Her face scrunched. “Okie-Dokie-Lokie,” she dragged, her tone low and questioning. “—But don’t think I’ll forget about this in the morning. I've got a mind like a steel trap. Nothing escapes me except for when my train of thought derails!”

Her words made Pinkamena flinch. The back of her neck bristled as if she were withholding words. This tension deflated, however, and her spine curled inward so she could tuck into the wall. She didn't snap back and held her tongue awfully well, perhaps her fatigue was the culprit. It didn't change the fact that Pinkamena still reeked of suspicion, and Pinkie's patience was fleeting.

She was going to leave it alone. That is until something else gave Pinkie fuel for more idle chatter.

“Pinkamena.”

“Whahahatt!” She whined, rubbing her face with both hooves, “What could you possibly need?!”

“I think the sky told a lie…” Pinkie murmured, with eyes trained on something engorging with mystical light in the sky. “—It’s on fire.”

“What is with you and the whole fire thing? The sky isn’t on fire, ponies don’t combust when they lie, and neither do inanimate objects! Now can we drop it?”

Pinkie's bottom jaw was lax, and her eyes never veered from above.

She just slowly lifted a hoof to guide Pinkamena’s line of sight.

She followed, and soon both their gazes were glued.

The sky was definitely on fire.

Streaks of vibrant light were brushed lazily across the sky. A tail of smoke followed behind an object that had been swallowed by a cocoon of energy. A mass of tangerine tinged with a bit of rose illuminated the sky. It sucked and grasped the branches and leaves of trees. They whipped and quavered from the sky's sudden pull as it crawled its way through the darkness.

Pinkamena’s mouth was slacked. They both didn’t seem to have the slightest clue as to what it could possibly be. It wasn't like anything Pinkie had ever seen, that’s for sure.

The rustling of the forest trying to resist the airborne object was loud but didn't have the faintest chance at winning the volume war with what was above. It was crackling as if the sky were falling in chunks, preparing to sink into the earth below. The very planet was trembling, and it shivered under Pinkie's hooves.

As soon as it had come, the sky had shockingly dimmed. The colors vanished instantly and were overtaken by the starry sky within moments. The trees had slowed, returning to their usual sway in the wind, while the croaks of nearby bullfrogs once more called as if they were never disturbed.

“What...was… that?” Pinkie managed to spit out, turning to her companion who had not taken her eyes from that particular spot. “I think it was—”

She was immediately muted by Pinkamena’s ashen face.

"Are you alright?" Pinkie asked in a whisper, approaching tentatively in hopes of calming her throbbing eyes. "It's not going to hurt us, Twilight talks about space rocks coming down all the time! Trust me, if it were a dangerous rock, I'd know."

She didn't move, and her body still appeared shackled to the ground. "That—" Her voice was addled, then her breath whistled as if her lungs struggled to function. "That was no space rock.”

---

A figure blundered up a slanted pathway. The creature's hand gently helped him balance his weight while desperately avoiding tripping over the obstacles below. He was clumsy and reckless, nearly tearing down stalagmites when using them as a railway.

“....Blasted cave, Equestria has too many of them. Go Tirek, I told myself, go see this magical disturbance and take what’s yours… I said. If I drag myself all the way there and it happens to be that dull-witted draconequus, I’ll wring his neck!”

Tirek coughed into the balled fist of his hand before once more weaving through the labyrinth. The light was scarce inside the tunnel and only poked through shards of crystals hanging like bats from the cave's roof. His hooves were crusted with mud and gunk while his herculean arms were slashed and blotched with tender bruises.

"Although it's faint, it's growing. Over three days, the power has flooded my senses, it's incredibly powerful. Once I steal it from whatever imbecile is wielding it, Equestria will rue the day it opposed the mighty Tirek! Yes… yes that’s what I’ll do—“

There was a meaty smack, and Tirek's nose ring almost made an imprint in the stone he had rammed into. He stumbled, and his weight caused small pebbles to fall from above and tap on his horns.

His jaw clenched, and his glare was fit to be tied. He scuffed one hoof on the ground, lowered his head, and aimed his horns at the blockage.

“HUAH!”

The centaur's war cry echoed along the walls and multiplied. His head acted as a battering ram and smashed the large rock into smithereens. The curved horns gouged the stone like a searing sword through butter. He brought a fist to his lips once more, and he hacked the clouds of dust from his lungs.

He then resumed his muttering once the debris had cleared.

“Rocks are tearing up my arms, there was an earthquake… I can’t catch a break.”

“—Mmm, but this cave is so small, and you seem so… athletically inclined. Surly a small little cavern such as this isn't making you lose your temper, Tirek. Why don't you just ram through it? It seems fitting for someone of your weight and stature."

Tirek’s horns had formed a writhing ball of magic before the voice was even done talking.

He turned to view nothing behind him, but he sensed an unwanted shadow. "I don't like fleas. Show yourself, and I may allow you to live."

"I see life has made you bitter. Try and be a little more optimistic. It's good for the skin," The voice teased. He kept his blindspots open while rotating in a slow circle. In front of him, something clumped together in a hypnotic array of unmatched colors. Two transparent eyes slipped out from a pocket of nowhere before the voice said, "Peek-A-Boo!"

The startled centaur shrieked with such volume it caused the crystals above to swing! The eyes squinted before the transparent shade faded into a visible figure draped across a bed of risen rocks. The draconequus had an impish grin and her chin within her palm. Her left arm was hanging loosely over the throne of stone she rested upon, with her tail crimped in an odd position beside her.

She cheesed, baring her inch long canines in a taunting smile. "You scream like a mare, and it's quite humorous.”

Tirek’s palm rested on his heart, his lips in a ring, as he released a sigh of relief. “Cosmos, I thought you were Discord! No one’s seen you in eons, I thought the other idiotic Spirit of Chaos abandoned you to rot somewhere.”

Cosmos had her hand in a bag of popcorn. She speared a claw into one of the popped kernels before bringing it up to her lips.

She stopped with her tongue halfway hanging from her mouth. “Excuse me, have some faith in my ability to outsmart my greatest rival. It may have taken two millennia, but I'm here. I'm not late, everyone else is simply early, and Old Faithful Tirek is going to help me out."

"Early for what exactly? I have no time to entertain you, and I have my own headache to deal with. Lord Tirek doesn't assist anyone! Get lost!"

Cosmos responded by tossing the bag into the air which disappeared in a puff of glitter. She then leaned forward onto her interlaced claws. "Mmm, yeah. Talking in a third-person narrative makes you feel special, doesn't it? Adorable."

He swatted his hand in her direction as if he were flicking away a fly. There was an irritated grunt of dismissal before he continued his way through the cave. Cosmos didn't let up, however, and hovered like a windblown ribbon. Her long body slithered through the air for quite some time until there was enough room to be at ear's length with Tirek.

"Hey, big guy, slow down for a sec. We've gotta talk about something," Cosmos said with a light tap on Tirek's shoulder. He replied by shrugging it off, "okay, rude, but I'll let it pass. I know you saw that thing in the sky, and you obviously know what it was, don't you."

“Of course I know what it is, you imbecile!” He berated, tucking his head under a hanging shelf of rocks. “It was a falling sun!”

The Spirit of Chaos blinked. "Uh, no… that's… that's very wrong. You thought it was the sun? If it were the sun, you probably shouldn't be so carefree about it, no matter, thankfully that isn’t what you thought it was. Didn’t you feel the magic power when it was coming down?”

“No, and I don’t care to. Now leave me alone, I’m busy!”

“Oh, I will once I’m done with my errand, trust me, you don’t have the enticing personality to bewitch ladies such as myself.”

Tirek expressed his disgust with an eye-roll.

"I require your services. It's a quest of utmost importance. I need you to track someone for me." Cosmos commanded, squeezing within the tight space Tirek had lumbered into. "You have a nose for magic like a bloodhound, and I need you to find her, now get. Get a move on, chop, chop. Mush!"

"No, I will not. You happened to track me, and you can easily do the same for this ‘friend’ of yours. I feel sorry for them already.”

The villain had nuzzled his way into an opening where he decided to stretch his limbs. His spine popped, a sigh hissing from his lips before he relaxed.

“I can’t track magic like you can, she’s hidden. Like, I can’t really put it into words exactly. I know she’s here, but she’s not here at the same time. It’s almost as if she’s concealed within something. A vessel.”

“Not my problem! If you weren’t such a pest, I would have splattered what’s left of you all over the walls by now! You blasted things are unkillable.”

"Normally, I can find anything. I'm stumped, no wonder she was so good at those childhood hiding games. Well, when she closed those gleaming eyes. Where is her clever little bunker?" Cosmos pondered, fingering a claw through the scruff on her cheek. "Could she perhaps—wait a minute, if you weren’t tracking the thing in the sky, what magical presence were you following?”

Tirek had a slimy grin. “If I were to guess, probably this ‘friend’ of yours. I was wondering how long it would take before you noticed, pathetic really. I told you I was busy.”

"....Why I never! Keep acting like that, and I'm not inviting you to the League of Villains!"

---

Pinkie's eyelids were brushed with the light of the sun. The roaring fire had done a decent job at blocking the breeze of the morning chill. The flames had provided an extra blanket of warmth, and she was thankful for it. It wasn't exactly the coziest night of her life, but not the coldest. Her senses slowly awakened one by one with her hearing being the first out of her slumber.

“...𝕮𝖍𝖊𝖆 𝖙𝖚𝖌𝖔 𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖍 𝖍𝖊 𝖖𝖚𝖚𝖗𝖔 𝖚 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖌𝖔…”

Both her eyes and muzzle crinkled. That voice…it wasn't one she recognized. The monotone was thickened and didn't inflect at all. It was scratchy and low, nearly clamorous like a sequence of dragging chains. It was talking to someone, even though Pinkie didn't understand its words, she could clearly tell it was attempting to be discreet.

"I know I don't have much time, and it still doesn't change my mind. Your suggestions are barbaric, we are done talking about this. Do you understand?"

That voice she recognized.

Pinkamena's tone sounded if she were forcing her words to hiss through clenched teeth. She kept her position motionless, and her eyes squeezed closed. Sure, Pinkie would never encourage eavesdropping, except for today, when literally nothing made sense anymore.

“𝕮𝖍𝖊𝖆 𝖋𝖎𝖕𝖕 𝖝𝖎𝖔 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖗𝖚𝖖𝖚𝖔𝖓𝖚.”

The temptation was overpowering. Pinkie cracked open an eye, wincing once the light absorbed within it. Pinkamena was tucked within a curtain of shadows that had not revealed her body inside the sunlight. Her eyes were focused on something, but that something happened to be transparent. Her gaze followed nothing, yet, her brows were tweezed and furrowed as if she were leering at a childhood bully she detested.

“Get lost. My answer is no.”

She shouldn’t be doing this. Pinkamena was oblivious to the extra set of ears hanging onto her every word. This was spying… wasn't it? No, no, Pinkie could spy on her own imagination, right? That sounded perfectly acceptable. If the voice was in her head anyway, she couldn’t ignore it even if she tried. Yet, something about that voice didn’t appear earthly.

Pinkie had never heard a second voice in her head before.

There was silence. Nothing stirred, and it was the sudden halt in noise that made Pinkie realize she had one bulging eye cropped on Pinkamena. Her companion had simply crossed her forelimbs and appeared to be in a gamesome mood. She was now relaxed, puckish, but even though she seemed to be playful, no pony would need a gift of empathy to see she was weighed down by something.

“I see you’ve slept soundly.” She began, her tone a bit softer than usual. “We need to start moving. Do you know where you want to go?”

Pinkie brushed her hoof through the dirt. She scattered some of the loose material while evading Pinkamena’s eyes.

“I—uh, well, I kinda had a pep-talk with myself. I came to a decision—" She rolled out her hoof while making a full circle with her eyes. "—Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to stay out here.”

“Pinkie, you can’t just keep running to escape your problems!" Her tongue was sharp, and her face crinkled sternly as if her suggestion somewhat irritated her. For some reason, the creases around her eyes and frown quickly relaxed. She balanced her ice with sudden warmth. "...I should know."

Her head turned, gaze hidden behind a curtain of ragged bangs. Pinkie could see her throat tighten as if she had swallowed the words she wanted to say. While she took a moment to shield both her face and expression, Pinkie caught sight of her condition. Her entire appearance looked untidy, stressed out, and bleary-eyed.

Pinkamena had a thin layer of sweat around her neck and muzzle and her breathing was labored. She… appeared to be scared?

Her hooves were quivering from under her shadow and Pinkie could almost see her unraveling at the seams.

"...Well, I wanted to stay out here because you're the only one who accepts me." Pinkie admitted, causing her acquaintance to loosen, but not turn her head. "If I go back, they will keep telling me you're not real. They will try to fix me, and maybe—”

“I’m not real. I’ll never be real.” Pinkamena spat, her eyes glowering at a spot that held nothing to stare at. “The sooner you drop it—”

"I'm not gonna just drop it! Listen, even if you are some mysterious entity, I can't really understand, perhaps I don't need to. This whole time everyone keeps saying how you were up to no good, a big 'ol rotting banana, but I don't think that's true." Her hooves felt heavy, and she felt a little fearful of wandering into this territory. Miraculously she found the strength to walk forward. "—For so long, I've mistreated you. I've been a real Stink Pie, Mena."

When their shadowy silhouettes meshed, Pinkamena’s head snapped up to meet her gaze. Her head bobbed and scanned Pinkie’s approaching form. Her body maneuvered closer to the wall to avoid the mare closing in, and her eyes thickened, not believing the act was of good intentions. Pinkie had butchered this mare's trust, and it hurt.

Underneath Pinkamena's belly, the gravel happened to swirl, crackling from her weight.

Pinkie's breath hitched within her throat. She didn't imagine that, did she?

She continued, “—You may have a harsh sense of humor, true. Yet, as a pony that appreciates a good laugh no matter where all it needs is a few teensy tweaks. You're not mean, you're just being you. Even if that 'you’ happens to be a big pile of stubbornness, you’ve got good qualities too.”

Pinkamena’s face lightened, but her body remained alarmed and defensive.

“I owe you a sincere apology. I shouldn’t be shunning you, I should be accepting you. Who gives two flying rubber chickens if you aren’t real. I can’t imagine you’d want to be friends with me if I’ve been treating you like you’re something I wanted to get rid of, right? That wasn't very Magic of Friendship-like of me, was it?"

The mare was getting severely uncomfortable. Her eyes were small and her form was now crippled. She was basically balled up toward the wall with a downcasted glance.

Her lips parted, but she was silent.

Pinkie didn't let up, "I don't care what my friends say anymore. Sure, I may be a little sensitive to judgment, but who isn't? I don't mind that you're around, it's nice to know I've got an extra set of eyes watching out for me. Limestone always said she had eyes on the back of her head, but I doubt she meant it in a literal sense that would be creepy! Unless that’s something you can do, I don’t mind being experimental.”

“Okay, okay! I got it, it’s alright I understand what you’re saying. I know I’ve been a bit much, and I know I happen to be an acquired taste… but—" Pinkamena's eyes clenched for a moment, and they remained shut. She observed the mare's chest rise and fall, and a gush of air pushed past her lips. The corner of her mouth twitched before her lids revealed the glittering orbs behind them, now glossy and dampened. "-I don't understand why you suddenly changed. This isn't how things go, they never do. My kind can’t coexist with yours. This is a false hope!”

“What do you mean coexist? I’m pretty sure your kind and ponies can—”

Pinkamena's eyes were suddenly frenzied, and the cords once more throbbed along her neck.

“You don’t even know fully what I am, Pinkie!”

Her voice cracked, and her shoulders hunched forward. She grunted, holding back what appeared to be... pain.

Pinkie’s chin bobbed. She may not know what Pinkamena was, but she knew something she wasn't.

“...I know you’re not an illusion, Mena.”

Her gaze was met with hostility in an instant, but she didn't dare return it. Slowly, The Element of Laughter pulled her companion's eyes toward a print in the ground. Pinkamena's chest stopped rising. Her face twisted as if she had been gut-punched when noticing her movement caused the gravel to stir. Clear as day, prints from hooves were squashed into the dirt, not from Pinkie, but from "The Mare in the Mirror,” herself. She was dejected, defeated, and the paleness from her face appeared sickly.

Her hoof plopped back down into the dirt, and it dusted her lower torso with a cloud of debris. Pinkie tried to catch her gaze, but Pinkamena was persistent in boring holes into the ground below her.

"So, what exactly are you?" She coaxed, inching closer to where her reflection now waved within Pinkamena's eyes.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Pinkie was met with a pained expression. Something was fogging her eyes and misting her face with what appeared to be doubt. She was guarded because there was something bigger going on. Something massive. The flames trapped in her eyes and the rage providing the light within them told Pinkie all she needed to know. She was here for a reason.

"I'm pretty sure I would, like I said, I live and breathe ridiculous. Nothing shocks me anymore except for maybe electricity.”

She didn’t respond. The words didn’t appear to reach her at all.

Pinkamena's clenched jaw loosened, and Pinkie continued, "I Pinkie Promise that I'll keep it a secret, okay? Whatever you are, or whatever your mission is— you chose to stick with me for a reason. There's been something fishy going on, and it all started when you came out of the mirror. It's almost like… you're becoming stronger."

"No." She corrected, her body slipping out into the morning sun. She grimaced once the shadows were pushed away, and her eyes adjusted to the light. With a hoof shielding her face, she continued, "You're becoming weaker.”

Pinkie followed close behind. “Weaker? What’s going on, you better spill the beans!”

Suddenly Pinkamena had turned to where her muzzle now leveled itself a few feet from Pinkie's current position. Her eyes were sharp, and her armor seemingly had repaired itself to once more bear hardness.

“My concealment has run its course. Something’s coming, Pinkie. I’ve been preparing for it for a long time. I can’t explain it to you, because once I do, it won’t be long before you see me as an enemy.”

The earth pony cut off her escape route by sliding in front. Now blocking the outside world and the sun leaking in from the cave’s mouth, she stood firm.

“Didn’t you hear me, goofus? You aren’t something I wanna get rid of, you’re going to be my friend, kay? I don’t really care if you consent or not, Cranky didn’t, and he eventually saw my friendship was inevitable and complied. You’ll give in eventually.”

“Yes, I’m aware of your attempt to force Cranky Doodle to break down. Unfortunately, Ponk, it’s not up to you. I don’t have enough time to go over my entire life’s story. I’m not accepting or denying your friendship.” Pinkamena explained, weaving past the blockade in her way. “—I’m not someone you want to be associated with. I shouldn’t have pulled you into this, but I was desperate. That’s my mistake.”

Out of instinct to stop her from leaving, her hoof snatched her shoulder. “W-Wait hold on a second—”

She touched warmth.

Not only body heat, but fur. Pinkie flinched, hesitating for a second while she processed what was happening. It was the first time she had been able to touch Pinkamena, and by the way she tensed up, it was as if no one ever had before.

The unknown diety’s eyes fixated on her, almost testing her reaction. She was allowing it.

Pinkie’s hoof slowly reclined. She couldn’t help it when her jaw dropped about an inch. Sure, a moment like this may not be anything special to others, but to Pinkie, it was something to mull over. She had a living and breathing creature within her this entire time! What she was here for was unknown and why Pinkie was chosen to keep Pinkamena’s secret was also a mystery.

“—I’m sorry, I-I kinda popped your personal bubble.”

She responded. “It’s-”

“𝕳𝖙𝖎𝖏 𝖎𝖏 𝖓𝖊𝖍 𝖚𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖝!” A voice interrupted, growling gibberish to slice through the tension.

Pinkie jumped, scanning the area for the owner of it. The forest was still vacant and untouched by anything other than her fumble last night. The unfitting snarl had reached Pinkamena’s ears as well, and when their gazes met, she could see a deep sadness emerging within it.

“Can you hear it too?” Pinkie Pie asked, while the rattled mare in front of her seemingly grew into panic mode. “You can… can’t you.”

"Yes," Pinkamena responded, moving her head toward the sunrise. "-Because it isn't talking to you."

Something wormed its way from her fur and pumped a small puddle into the dip of her shoulder blades. Pinkie's brows ruffled, watching, as this black goop stuck onto her body like a gushing tree sap. She didn't seem to notice, but she did appear paranoid.

“Mena… there’s something—”

"—Pinkie, I have to leave."

Her words were so quickly overrun by Pinkamena that she still had her mouth open from being interrupted.

She was once more evasive. She was hiding a growing fear, and Pinkie wasn't going to let it slide. She was dragged into this, and she deserved to know what was going on!

“Nope. I refuse, you’re staying right here.” She demanded, sticking her snout into the air before huffing past her follower. “I’m going to sit on Mr. Holder’s Boulder Number Two, and stay on this rock until you start spilling some beans! You better get going, I’m a very hungry pony, and if you don’t spill some beans I’m going to get cranky. Trust me, you wouldn’t like me when I’m cranky.”

Right outside the cave, she had found a suitable boulder lodged within parts of the mountain. Pinkamena stood within the entrance giving Pinkie an eye-roll, but the bull-headed mare wasn't hooked by her companion's taunt.

She threw herself over the stone before perching herself upright. With a weighty stare in Pinkamena's direction, she folded her forelimbs over her chest.

"Oh, okay, like sitting on a rock is going to make me change my mind.”

Pinkie snorted hot air from her nose in rebuke.

"Pinkie, you're not a filly. I can't foalsit for you anymore. You're not going to understand or believe me. It's too dangerous to get into with a pony like you. I wanted to depart on a good note—"

Pinkie blew a raspberry in her direction. She was pretty sure Pinkamena’s veins bulged so much she’d pop a blood vessel.

“Fine!” She lashed, making a sharp circle before exposing her flank to Pinkie. “You’re driving me crazy!”

She leaned forward, “You’ll be back. Once you get a taste of the Pinkie, they always come back. If you don’t, I’ll find you. You will comply!”

"Sure, Ponk." Her voice suddenly faded into a lower volume when she muttered to herself. "I've recovered, haven't I? I should be able to break free on my own accord, that's why I've become more of a physical being over the past few days. I can do this… I've done it before."

Pinkie cupped her hooves over her mouth to mimic a megaphone. “You’re gonna faaaail.”

Her glare was enough to scare the devil back into hell.

“I’m serious Mena, there’s something I figured out—”

“You don’t even know what I’m doing! Now hush." She spat as her venomous expression turned to focus on a patch of grass in front of her. "...It's time."

Her bottom hoof moved clockwise, whereas her top moved opposite of it. She stopped halfway to form a mid-circle, while green light softly broke free from a source illuminating her hooves. Pinkie was almost leaning so far she was in danger of falling off! Pinkamena was a magic-user! No earth pony in existence could harbor magic.

Unless— Pinkamena wasn't an earth pony.

Or a pony at all.

Pinkie’s mouth was spasming like a beached fish. She couldn’t believe what was happening!

An invisible pen inked up the sky with glowing words, but the graffiti was nothing that she could understand. It was all gibberish.

There was something… strange happening with her Cutie Mark. Pinkie had never thought much of it since she had always believed Pinkamena wasn't real, but now, she memorized every detail. Her Cutie Mark happened to be a balance scale with the left plate sinking due to the weight of a sword's hilt. Tied on the golden knobs were skulls with blackened eye sockets—void of any color or expression.

At least that was what it had been before.

The left was blinking and sparking, throbbing like it was suffering an invisible shockwave. The mark flashed a brilliant glow from within the once dark socket. It looked like the skull was responding to the magic being summoned.

She mashed her hooves together after muttering chants that were unheard of.

“Zo veno xoquen pekx!”

Nothing happened.

She remained poised from her spell’s position, but the lights faded. She looked flustered and confused, as her hooves dropped to her sides in disbelief.

“You’ve got to be joking-” She whispered, disheartened. “I wasn't strong enough?”

"I mean, I did try to warn you before you did that whatchamacallit voodoo magic of yours. You can touch things, and I can feel you, so you are kinda in the actual world. But—" Pinkie leapt off of the boulder like a bounding lamb. She landed in front of a shallow puddle leaking from the nearby pond. "-You don't have a reflection. You said I was becoming weaker, but you aren't fully formed. I think ever since you started following me, our minds started to separate... that's why you could do more and more as time went on."

She pointed into the rippled reflection of herself as Pinkamena joined her side. She had a shadow, but the reflection did not receive company.

“You are fearfully observant.” She replied while pawing at the water, “—and you are somewhat right. You may not be able to tell, but I’m mortally wounded. I haven’t recovered as much as I thought. This entire plan of mine to hide and regenerate turned out to be a dud. I can’t free myself on my own.”

“Maybe I can help—”

An animalistic screech tore through their eardrums! It forced Pinkie to cup her hooves over her ears to try and block out the sound. It was deafening, so much so, she was knocked to the ground in hopes of cradling her skull so it wouldn't split!

“𝕳𝖊𝖕𝖝 𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖆 𝖍𝖙𝖎𝖏 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖕𝖝𝖓'𝖍 𝖋𝖊𝖐𝖗!”

The voice was probing, and it raked over them like thunder.

Pinkamena lurched over, her eyes shrunken. “UaUaG!”

Her entire body shivered from an invisible Winter's chill. She was unable to keep her head up, and her spine hissed and cracked as if something were demanding to be let out. The thick tar bubbled even faster now, leaking into the nape of her neck.

“Mena?” Pinkie croaked, but something else responded.

“𝕱𝖔 𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖕 𝖙𝖔𝖐 𝖓𝖊𝖋!”

“You’ll...mmgh… kill… her!” The mare slick with goop pleaded, “leave her… alone, she doesn’t understand!”

“Ⱥղժ էհąէ ìʂ ահҽɾҽ աҽ հąѵҽ ƒąìӀҽժ,” The demonic creature scolded, “Wê §hðµlÐ håvê kïllêÐ ï† †hê §ê¢ðñÐ ï† wå§ ßðrñ.”

Pinkamena’s eyes thinned with slits overtaking what were once gentle eyes. Her fangs bit into her lip in resistance while the goo crept into her mouth.

"What's happening? You need help! You're hurting!" Pinkie gathered her last strand of bravery to defend and protect the crippled creature before her. She was able to move forward and, without hesitation, began to claw the substance off her body. "What… is this stuff?"

There was movement. Pinkie didn’t notice the hoof swooping down toward her until it clipped the side of her head! She spun around from the force before landing muzzle-first into the dirt. Her throbbing skull rang a painful tune throughout her head.

She didn't expect a sucker punch, and it looked like Pinkamena didn't either.

“Ꭰօ ղօէ Ӏҽէ ìէ էօմçհ մʂ. Ꭰҽʍօղʂ ժօ ղօէ ąʂʂօçìąէҽ աìէհ էհҽìɾ քɾҽվ.”

The snarl echoed while Pinkie regained her vision. Pinkamena had been completely possessed by this other being, and she looked to be helpless in its grasp.

“Wê mµ§† ¢ðñ§µmê ðµr hð§†. ̆ ðñl¥ §êrvê§ å§ å vꧧêl. Wê Ðð ñð† hårßðr êmþå†h¥ †ðwårÐ whå† ï§ måÐê ð£ 𝔣lê§h. ñð lðñgêr wïll wê wåï†. ¥ðµ ¢åñ Ðêñ¥ whå† wê årê, ßµ† Ì wïll ñð lðñgêr wåï†. Ì §håll Ðð ï† m¥§êl£.”

It all made sense.

Pinkamena was a hellspawn, a fiend…

A ᎠꂅოԾภ.

Was Pinkie crazy for feeling more sympathy for Pinkamena than fear? She was at war with something that could eat away at her will. Even now, her crazed eyes were void of whatever this demon told her to feel. She didn't agree with it, and she desperately fought against its control.

“¥ðµ ¢åñ ñð† ðvêrþðwêr mê. Ì åm ¥ðµ. Wê årê ðñê. ¥ðµr 𝔣êår ¢åll§ †ð mê åñÐ Ì grðw ålðñg§ïÐê ï†,” It hissed, it’s voice weak in breath while it tussled with the other mind it addressed. “†ï†åñ§ Ðð ñð† ßðw †ð mðr†ål§. †hê 𝔣åµl† ð£ m¥ ¢rêå†ïðñ wå§ ¥ðµr ðwñ. Ì ¢åñ Ðð å§ ¥ðµ å§k, ¥ê†, ¥ðµ §ïlêñ¢ê mê? Hê wïll ßêñÐ hï§ kñêê å§ Ì ¢ðmmåñÐ ï†, wh¥ årê ¥ðµ Ðï§þlêå§êÐ?”

“You’ll kill everything in your way to get there!”

The desperate voice was familiar and did not belong to the demon.

Pinkamena's voice was able to break free from what was muffling it before. Her body was flaring with steaming smoke, and the black mass had melted onto her flank like a dripping candle.

"Pinkie… you have to release me! I can't do it, but if you don't, it will consume you from the inside! Listen to me, the words I said before… repeat them, the spell is already activated!"

“Ì£ ¥ðµ ållðw ï† †ð lïvê ¥ðµ kñðw ð£ whå† wïll håþþêñ. ¥ðµ 𝔣åïlêÐ ïñ ðµr ågrêêmêñ†. ÌñÐêêÐ ¥ðµ årê 𝔣år †ðð wêåk †ð åþþêål †ð ßlå¢k mågï¢. ̆ hå§ åßåñÐðñêÐ ¥ðµ. Äl†hðµgh †hê Ðêmðñ †hå† wê årê ï§ §†ïll wðr†h¥.”

Pinkie opened her mouth to obey, but a searing hot pain locked up her muscles. Her face twisted up in agony, her knees quivering, and a whimper squeezing through her biting teeth. Her body slumped over and plopped onto the ground like a thrown sack of flour. Her senses convulsed from an electrifying pulse of overwhelming torment. Her stomach and ribs clenched, and her lungs hummed.

She could only wheeze and look up at the demon standing over her. Pinkamena's fangs were salivating and her eyes were dimmed. Her muzzle was crimped while her mane remained motionless from the goop squishing it against her neck.

“Ì håvê wåï†êÐ ¢êñ†µrïê§ †ð †å§†ê †hê ßlððÐ ð£ åñ Èlêmêñ†. †hê ßlððÐlïñê ð£ å †ï†åñ. Ì §†årvêÐ wï†h þå†ïêñ¢ê ßê¢åµ§ê 𣠆hê wêåkñꧧ m¥ ð†hêr §ïÐê hå§ þrê§êñ†êÐ.”

Pinkamena was gone. Her body was no more than a shadow. Something else spoke through her lips while the same something peered through her eyes. Pinkie was alone. She wouldn't have Pinkamena to guide her anymore. She had to win with pure wits, since overpowering it was completely of the table. Pinkie couldn't use magic. What was Pinkamena thinking? She could usher those words until her tongue fell off, but earth ponies weren't unicorns. They had never been able to use magic!

The demon was eating her from the inside. It had an unpleasant warmth to it, which was nauseating. While its hoof rested upon her side, it leaned down to tickle her ear with a heated breath. She peered into her own reflection within its gaze. Pinkamena's eyes were a haze of dark cherry and gave off an ominous chill.

“Ðð ñð† †hïñk wrðñgl¥ ð£ mê. ¥ðµr §ðµl wå§ †ð ßê mïñê £rðm †hê §†år† 𣠥ðµr ßïr†h,” It announced, the hellspawn’s voice an uncomfortable coo.

This thing. It reminded Pinkie of something she was once warned of. Something whispered from deep within her mind: an old memory, one being unlocked from this demon's presence.

"If she truly is alive, I know of her resentment, and the souls she will consume to end us no matter what innocent blood gets shed. We must make haste."

Was she perhaps—

“But, be as it may, this foe will kill you.”

She was, without a doubt, what they feared. As Celestia and Luna had warned—

“—We have limited time in this race against The Devourer.”

Pinkamena was The Devourer, a soul consumer.

Should she free this being? They were terrified of it, and there was an obvious reason why. It was an evil spirit that consumed souls, could possess others, and used forbidden magic. Who knows what else it could do, and who knows why it was really here. It's an enemy of Equestria, and as an Element, her job was to—

“—I’m not someone you want to be associated with. I shouldn’t have pulled you into this, but I was desperate. That’s my mistake.”

Was that Pinkamena’s voice? It was, but it was familiar, like another recent memory.

“My concealment has run its course. Something’s coming, Pinkie. I’ve been preparing for it for a long time. I can’t explain it to you, because once I do, it won’t be long before you see me as an enemy.”

Pinkie squirmed uncomfortably when the demon's maw opened. A milky trail of glowing life energy slithered under its tongue. That substance, her soul, her very life, was leaking away. She felt weak, tongue-tied, and her body was unable to fight it off.

Pinkie’s job was to fight and defeat evils, but Pinkamena wasn't like this other thing. She was caring, she was a bit snarky, but far from evil! The Devourer was now an enemy of The Elements of Harmony, but not Pinkamena. This thing was not the mare in the mirror she had always known! She had been battling with it for quite some time. She needed help, not another enemy to fear.

Pinkie would not be her enemy. She said she’d become a friend, and she meant it.

She was not afraid.

“You…. I’m… heh… not...afraid! You… bully!” Pinkie panted, her winded words causing the demon pinning her to cock its head. “You hear me?!”

“Äll mðr†ål§ £êår †hê §ïñ ð£ Wrå†h. Ì lµ§† £ðr ¥ðµr 𝔣êår. ̆ rêêk§ £rðm †hê §†êñ¢h ðñ ¥ðµr l姆 Ð¥ïñg ßrêå†h.”

The demon’s tongue lashed out, flicking against the wind hungrily. Pinkie arched her back so that her legs could stand. The hellspawn looked concerned, gazing at the mare beneath it in a bewildered way. Perhaps it wasn't used to ponies appearing this dense. Who wouldn’t cower in the very presence of a creature from the depths of hell?

Pinkie. That’s who.

“I said I don’t fear you!" Pinkie proclaimed, her voice causing the pressure of its pinning hoof to lessen. Its fangs were pulled into the shape of a frown, and its eyes became slightly murky with distaste. "You're gonna spit Pinkamena back out right now! Do you hear me, Mr. ScaryTeeth?"

“Çrê†ïñ𵧠Ðåµgh†êr ð£ Gåïå, Ì ¢ðñ§µmê †hê §ðµl§ 𣠆hê lꧧêr. ¥ðµ þð§ê ñð †hrêå† †ð mê. Ì åm ïñ§ïÐïðµ§, vêñðmðµ§, ¥ðµr wðrЧ åmµ§ê mê lꧧ †håñ †hê¥ åñgêr mê.”

It was flustered, flabbergasted, by Pinkie’s attempt to beat it down to her level. Pinkamena’s body was still soaked in these gnarled shadows. She was cloaked in this darkness that didn’t appear to worsen or grow while it spoke to Pinkie.

Her pompous bravery confused it, but more importantly, she stalled it.

Its hoof was now entirely off her body, giving the last slot of room she needed to stand. Her stare was steely, and even though her intimidation wasn't nearly as hopeful at containing the demon, her stupidity appeared to do the trick.

“Listen here! I don’t wanna hear a peep outta you! All you’ve been is mean! I have always been told to see the good in everypony—" She appeared to be pushing it back with her words. She refused to let it flee and caught up to it when it stumbled away. "You have been a bad demon! I’m starting to think Granny Pie was wrong! Giggling at the ghosties isn’t the cure for the headache you’re causing, you may be scary, but I’m not allowing you to push us around anymore! I’m not going to laugh away the fear, I’m going to yell at it!”

“...Hðw... Hðw Ðð ¥ðµ ñð† 𝔣êår mê? Håvê Ì grðwñ wêåk? †hï§ ï§ Mðrñïñg §†år'§ Ððïñg. ̆ mµ§† ßê, ¥ðµ håvê †åµgh† †hêm ñð† †ð 𝔣êår µ§!”

“Zip it!” Pinkie interrupted, and her command successfully made the demon’s jaws snap shut. “Bad demons go into time out! Once you think about what you've done, maybe Pinkamena and I will have a talk with you! Do you understand me?"

This agitated the monstrous being, and it gave her its answer with a guttural roar! Pinkie stood firm, and her eyebrows threaded into an expression of a stern caregiver. Her lids narrowed, and once the sound died down, the fiend realized the fear it caused no longer existed. The fear had changed targets, and within the needle-tipped eyes that it had, the terror had turned on the one who created it.

“Ì... håvê 𝔣åïlêÐ µ§, ßµ† m¥ wrå†h hå§ ñð† ßêêñ qµêñ¢hêÐ. Èlêmêñ† ð£ Hårmðñ¥, ¥ðµ ¢åñ ñð† qµêll mê £ðrêvêr. 𝔣êår ï§ ïñꧢåþåßlê, åñÐ whêñ †hê §êêÐ ð£ 𝔣êår åñÐ åñgêr ßlððm§— †hêrê wïll ßê ¢årñågê. ¥ðµr §ðµl hå§ ßêêñ mårkêÐ.” It warned, but the one standing over it was unfazed.

“A small risk I'm willing to take.” Pinkie replied lowly, wiggling her eyebrows mockingly. “Zo veno xoquen pekx!”

The words she shouted were aided by thunder-like war trumpets. Something grumbled from above, bringing both their attention to the sky. There was tension bubbling within the clouds. Darkness had been summoned, which had snuffed out the light from the sun. The land was now plagued by crackling lightning that wrapped around the engorged clouds.

The malevolent being shielded its face from a brightness that wasn't present. There was no light, only a gloomy shadow over the two bodies beneath it. Pinkie's knees wobbled, but not from anxiety over the current weather. She was hit with sudden fatigue, which had dropped her eyelids halfway.

There was a ring of magic gathering around them both. The demon appeared to be caged, but it didn’t gnaw at the invisible bars as she expected. It just started at her with such malice it caused her lips to pale.

A column of light struck the kingdom of clouds. It drilled a hole in the middle and scattered the bolts like bowling pins. The magic had a lurid effect among the bleak sky and was far too bright to withstand.

Pinkie had to shield herself from the light while the wind whisked through her mane.

Thunder crackled, its voice booming alongside the pillars of colors. The demon was swallowed within it, and Pinkie soon followed.

There was nothing in the plains and valley except for the pole of brilliance prodding at the sky. The ground protested in violent shudders, but within minutes, the last of the light bled into the clouds and was absorbed.

Underneath the sky was instantly revealed. Pinkie cradled herself like an infant, the grass was now scorched, and the boulder she had stubbornly sat upon smashed to pebbles.
One eye popped open. Her hoof ceased acting as a last-minute helmet, and her senses slowly reactivated. She scanned the landscape and resting upon it, was Pinkamena.

Well, Pinkamena yet not Pinkamena.

Her mouth stood agape in a silent ‘O’ as the demonic mare stirred.

“Well.” Pinkie began, “That’s definitely not something you see every day.”

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