Twilight sighed and snapped open the slim binder. “Can you hand me the print-outs?” she asked Indigo without turning from where she was placing a divider marked with the date for the week.

“No problem,” her friend said, glancing around the room and lowering her voice. “You sure you don't want me to walk with you to the office? I promised Bacon-head I’d watch your back.”

“Bacon-head?” That did make her turn to Indigo, baffled. “Indigo, she’s a vegetarian. She doesn't eat bacon.”

A grin spread on Indigo’s face. “Her hair looks like bacon in the right light. And since I still don't like the idea of using her name where the Crystal Prep Goon Squad might be listening in, I’m sticking to random nicknames. Otherwise, it'll get confusing with any conversation about more than one case of she/her.”

Shivering at the reminder, Twilight hummed. “I suppose you have a point. I don't like how intensely fixated everyone is on her…”

Indigo adjusted the collar of her shirt. “I’m actually surprised your ex-pal hasn't spilled her guts yet. She seems the type.”

She actually found herself agreeing with Indigo. Why hadn’t Wallflower spilled everything she knew over the school after the fight? Or had she, and was behind the rumors in the first place, dropping the information subtly and in ways that couldn't get traced back?

You're being paranoid, Twilight, she told herself. “I am not certain…though I cannot help but wonder if it ties into her somewhat ‘us versus them’ mentality in regards to anyone outside our initial friend group.”

The athlete nodded. “Yeah, I guess. Or maybe she wants to get even herself? Some people do that kinda thing.”

That thought wasn't any better than her own, and it hung around with the rest of the anxious what-ifs crowding her mind. “Maybe. I don't know Wallflower as well as I thought I did, so I can't really explain her motives.” Her shoulders slumped and she rubbed her forehead, feeling pressure that implied a migraine was coming her way. Probably from exhaustion and eye strain, seeing as how she hadn't slept the night before. There had been too much work in fabricating false results to put in her progress report and lead Principal Cinch on a believable diversion. “I suppose, in the end, it matters little, since I have not confided in her for months…not that I ever confided that deeply in her. She always seemed fairly dismissive of my problems or concerns if it didn't have to do with bullies here.”

“I’m still not sure how you two managed to stay friends this long. Feels like this should have blown up sooner.”

Twilight exhaled slowly. “…my relationship and the individual I’m with proved to be an unpleasant catalyst for her worldview. Said relationship has built my confidence and allowed for a measure of self-growth that was lacking in my adolescence.”

Indigo snorted. “Yeah, well if I was dating someone with that much force of personality who was a total hottie, I’d probably be motivated to be a better me too.” She laughed. “Which I think is partly why the rumor mill is so stuck on your bike riding lady friend. First look puts the two of you in totally different worlds, and no one can understand how the two of you could ever be in the same…” There was a pause. “place, I guess. Like how a lot of people look at my dad when we go to a pricier store to buy appliances—we don’t look like we belong with people who can afford it. Seeing you two together without talking to you, it's bizarre.”

“The tough girl from the wrong side of the tracks and ‘Princess Twilight Sparkle’ strains their brains, hmm?” The irony was hilarious, though Twilight couldn't make herself laugh. Sunset was the one raised in a palace, not her. And it was totally irrelevant to their relationship.

“More like the tough badass with a personality that smacks you in the face from half a court away without a word, and the quiet, introverted genius who has turned the school upside down because she finally started defending herself with both words and actions.” Indigo shook her head. “Plus none of their rich trappings seem to impress someone they figure should be tripping over herself at the sight of them. It's stupid, but…honestly? Rich people are stupid…no offense.”

She waved the apology away. “I am perfectly aware of what my extended family is like, and I agree. Something about extensive, generational wealth seems to make the bulk of people excessively stupid and ignorant in the worst ways.” Then she sank deeper into her chair. “I’m so tired, Indigo…”

It was true, and not because she’d missed a night of sleep. Twilight was mentally and emotionally exhausted…at this point, she would even be willing to say she was spiritually exhausted too—not in the religious sense, but in terms of her normal level of sensible optimism and her…sense of self, perhaps? The months of stress and growing agitation over the project, over her school, over the friction and growing pains with her family, it was all getting to her.

The other girl was watching her with a worried expression. “You…sure you don't want me to go with you, Twilight? You…honestly, you look like shit that the dog tracked in.”

That was a rather apt description of how she felt physically, she decided. Like some giant had stepped on her and then dragged her around on the bottom of its shoe for a while. “I’ll be fine, but thank you, Indigo. I’m glad to have you as my friend…having you here has helped me know it's not just my brain making things up all the time out of anxiety.”

Indigo patted her shoulder carefully. “It'll be over soon, Twilight. Just…remember, it’s like lying to your parents—keep it simple, don’t volunteer information, and stick as close to open ended, vague statements close to the truth. Someone like Cinch can smell lies and will talk you in circles until you crack. Don't let her.”

Twilight made a face. “…I…don't really lie to my parents.”

Her friend let out a laugh. “Bullshit! Everyone does. ‘Oh yeah, mom, I’m just having a few of the girls over for a sleepover.’ ‘I’m fine. Just didn't sleep well.’ ‘Of course I didn't steal the key to the liquor cabinet and drink half a bottle of dad’s whiskey.’”

“I really don't though.”

Honey colored eyes bored into her. “I suppose then that you tell your folks everything you get up to in private with your leather wearing bad girl? Hmm? All the naughty little details about where she’s left hickeys—speaking of which, she…might want to go a little higher on your thigh next time. The edge of it is just visible when your gym shorts ride up.”

Heat rushed to her face and she dropped it into her hands with a distressed noise. “You saw? Oh no…”

“Relax. I doubt anyone else really noticed. It just happened right in front of me when you picked up that basketball earlier.” Indigo chuckled. “My point is…be careful, okay? Maybe think about secretly having your phone recording things from your pocket? Or…do you have anything like what the cops use to bug stuff?”

Twilight pushed her embarrassment down—a struggle, but Indigo had pointed out some much more important matters she needed to focus on. She could worry about accidentally fueling the rumors later, after her meeting with Principal Cinch. “…I have a tiny wireless camera for my phone,” she murmured after considering. “I usually use it for recording things from my experiments, especially small details I might miss with my eyes. Perhaps that as well as audio? As…insurance?”

“I think you should. Your parents are pretty pissed off at the school, but I think Cinch is mad at us too—I’ve gotten detention four times in the last two weeks when I didn't have that many in two and a half years. Plus Coach is talking about my place on the team, and how I need to think about if I wanna keep it.” The other girl shrugged. “I’d wager they are looking for reasons to get us in trouble.”

Indigo was right, and Twilight was quiet as she set up the tiny camera before searching for a place to hide it where it would be invisible. Once again her friend had a suggestion. “Use your bra.”

“What?”

“The space between your tits can hide the camera, Twilight,” Indigo said with a laugh. “You aren't flat chested. Hide it there, and poke the lens through the gap in between buttons, so it's up against this crappy knitted sweater vest. Knitted shit is full of holes by design. Should be enough to see something. And it'll still pick up audio.”

She stared blankly at her friend, before considering the suggestion. It…did have merit…she supposed. Her hair wasn't voluminous to conceal it and it would either be reduced to only audio or obvious anywhere else. “…I suppose that will have to do.”

What followed was an incredibly awkward few minutes of getting the camera in the right place where it would not move and was fairly unnoticeable, while still picking up a decent visual of something besides her left boob or the inside of her sweater. This was exacerbated by Indigo making her walk and stand and jump around a bit while laser focused on her chest to see if the little device was noticeable.

“I think you're good to go, Twilight,” Indigo said at last. “Those little clamps worked. There's a bit of fuzz at the edges from the sweater vest, but…most of the picture is clear.”

Twilight picked up her project binder. “Thanks, Indigo. I still want to get your thoughts later…and there's a few places I wanted to check over for some potential evidence. Maybe you could go with me? So I’ve got a friend and a second set of eyes?” She wanted to prove she wasn’t hallucinating…or maybe that she was, at the amphitheater…and maybe she could find some trace of what had been in the video, even if it was proof that it was just a school project.

“Oh yeah, sure!” Indigo grinned at her. “Am I gonna need to bring like…bolt cutters and gloves, or is this the kind of research that doesn't involve a little B&E?”

“Um…” The dark haired girl found herself at a loss for how to take that. “It's a public space?” she responded hesitantly. “We wouldn't be trespassing technically.”

Indigo laughed. “Noted, Sparkle. My lips are sealed.” Then she sobered, and squeezed Twilight’s shoulder. “Be careful, and watch what you say, okay? …I’ve got a bad feeling about all of this, and Principal Cinch is at the heart of it. If you have to, you cut and run outta there and you call me, or you call your bitch-boot wearing badass for backup.”

She straightened her shoulders, struggling to draw on the confidence Sunset had helped her to find. “I will, but I really believe it will be okay, Indigo.” That was the hope, anyway, but the gnawing anxiety in the pit of her stomach felt like part of her was on the same wavelength as her friend. “I’ll see you after the meeting? For lunch?”

“I’ll be here as long as Mr. Moor doesn't bore me to death in history. It’s Magna Carta week, fun.” There was a rolling of eyes to accompany the sarcasm as Indigo shouldered her bag.

Once in the hall, Twilight locked the lab door and headed for the office, Indigo keeping pace until she was forced to peel off at her class. The last third of the journey was made alone, with a stream of hostile students around her, some of them trying to stop her with questions, and even more whispering just at the edge of her hearing…

Twilight entered the office with short lived relief, the kind felt by the primitive hindbrain after escaping one deadly situation only to realize that it was facing an even more dangerous one. She informed the principal’s secretary of her arrival and sat to wait, going through the calming exercises that Dr. Soft-Spoken had taught her.

They didn't work. As the minutes stretched on, it felt like the flow of spacetime around Twilight had slowed to a snail’s pace, with each tick of the second hand on the outdated analog wall clock feeling as though it lasted an hour. In desperation, she tried some of the techniques Sunset had shown her, before and after their self defense lessons, then moved to just recalling memories of Sunset talking to her, looking at her with love and desire, of the feeling of just being with her girlfriend to try and push back the jittery agitation in her nerves.

It helped, at least until her mind flitted to the Sunset of her dreams, the fanged, dark eyed version whose voice was filled with seductive allure, who whispered heady words and enthralling promises in her ear before filling her with ecstasy. In an instant, she was thinking of Wallflower’s ‘evidence,’ of the demonic figure with red-amber skin and flaming hair and eyes that she would know anywhere. As much as she wanted to believe it was some kind of video project mocking her girlfriend, something in her said that it wasn't fake…that the terrifying spectre with the rasping, furious voice was Sunset Shimmer, not someone pretending to be a caricature of her at her worst.

She wasn’t sure how she felt. How she should feel. It wasn’t identical to her dream Sunset, but the fangs, the claws, the red-amber skin…even the presence of wings and glowing eyes were the same, and that dream-apparition had been stoking the coals of her physical desire for months…yet its actions in the video were undoubtedly wrong…violent, angry…and they didn’t make sense. None of it did, by any scientific rationale.

Sunset wasn’t a monster, or some kind of winged demon—she was just a girl who had been a bully and had an eye opening experience. People didn’t undergo transformations into giant monsters, or summon magical flying unicorns made of stars out of weird colored rainbows by singing. They didn’t have eyes like a crocodile and a clear inner eyelid. They didn’t use magic gemstones to summon giant fanged fish-horses.

Magic…wasn’t real.

Was it?

Was…was that what the energy was? Some hidden power that could be likened to the magic of fairy tales?

Or was this just a hoax, a project to paint Sunset as a monster in retaliation by the very teens she had once bullied? A farce that Twilight was overthinking because she lacked critical context?

The door creaked open, dragging her from her thoughts. Principal Cinch stared down at her a moment before opening the door wider. “Come in, Miss Sparkle.” Then she turned sharply and was gone from the doorway, leaving behind expectations and implications in the shadowy portal.

Twilight forced herself to her feet, trying to ignore the unpleasant prickling along the back of her neck and trailing down her spine like icy talons, and gritted her teeth when she put her hand to the door to push it open enough for her to pass through. The hinges protested the motion, a faint creaking that echoed in a fashion that brought to mind horror movie sound effects, of wailing wind and distant, inhuman screaming that was abruptly cut off by some sinister force.

…and she really needed to stop letting her imagination run wild. First she was entertaining magical nonsense, and now this—Twilight Sparkle was too rational to get caught up in silly fantasies.

The office, as it always was, was dimly lit, with only the windows and a single overhead light doing anything to push back the gloom. Principal Cinch stood behind the monolithic oak desk, one hand on the high backed chair as she surveyed the view out the window, ignoring Twilight’s presence for a time. When she finally broke the silence, it had been long enough that Twilight had begun to fidget, her heart starting to pound in her ears. “You may sit, Miss Sparkle.” Light caught her teeth and glasses as she half turned, a bit of reflected brilliance that left spots in her field of vision.

Still, Twilight sat, knuckles tightening on her folder of falsified data, trying to calm her heart rate and prepare herself for the meeting that had only just begun. She did her best to mask the fact that her stomach was tying itself in anxious knots, and that she wanted to be anywhere but here, even as her principal finally turned and slid into the seat that was much higher than the low, uncomfortable, wooden one she was in.

“Your continued promptness is…encouraging, despite recent…unfortunate events. There are several matters we need to discuss today…assuming, of course, that you are…comfortable…making considerations…on your own?”

Her jaw clenched, swallowing her immediate reaction. Both Sunset and the family lawyers had warned her about this. “Question everything, Sparky,” Sunset had advised. “Ask what the real motive is, because it's never what it seems with a lindwyrm.” The teen exhaled slowly through her nose, letting her defensive response go with it, and ran through the list and examples the lawyers had given her to watch out for…right at number four was “Implications of maturity: Either suggesting parental figures are incapable of recognizing maturity or that only the person in question can recognize an above-peer-average level of maturity.”

What the principal had said certainly qualified, and her knee jerk reaction would have seen her forging ahead in frustration and upset, which did not allow her to think logically. Twilight drew in a slow breath before she answered carefully, “I am here to discuss the weekly status of my project, Principal Cinch.” One hand proffered the binder of project notes. “I was unaware of anything beyond that needed to be discussed, though if there is a question about my performance in one of my other classes, I suppose that would also be appropriate use of this time. Was there some kind of concern?”

The principal’s features were a carefully schooled mask, giving nothing away, even as she took the project binder from Twilight. She did not answer immediately, choosing instead to read carefully through it. “There is very little here that has changed from your last few reports, Miss Sparkle,” she said at last. “I am…growing concerned with the clear lack of progress as of late. Care to explain?”

Indigo had helped her brainstorm several deflecting strategies if Principal Cinch attempted to dig deeper into the data, and she seized on one of the more basic, truthful ones. “There have been some unfortunate setbacks with sample collection integrity, Principal Cinch.” When the woman arched one eyebrow and made a motion for her to continue, Twilight sighed. “With such an unknown as the energy, proper procedure in sample collection is paramount to avoid contamination of any results. This is something I am accustomed to in my preferred fields, which involve adhering to tightly controlled conditions and the removal of as many variables as possible in any study…however, the unfortunate truth is that this is less true in other fields, such as my assistant’s preferred field of botany, and due to the difference, several batches of samples have been rendered unusable for my work, necessitating new samples and my personal efforts to catalogue them on my own to ensure procedure is followed. It has…dramatically slowed progress.”

Uncomfortable silence stretched, eyes boring into Twilight intently, as if weighing and measuring her explanation. At last, the woman arched her brow. “I see. Perhaps I was hasty in assigning your…friend…as a project assistant.” She smoothed a hand over the binder as she set it on the desk. “It is a relief, Miss Sparkle, to learn that it is a problem with conflicting research methods and not the result of you becoming distracted from your work to a detrimental degree.”

Swallowing a retort, Twilight decided to feel out what the principal was implying. “I’m afraid I don't understand, Principal Cinch. Distracted?”

The tone in Abacus Cinch’s voice felt…wrong, somehow, like honey over moldy fruit to try and conceal the taste of rot. “With your…association with the juvenile delinquent from Canterlot High…what was her name again? Misty…Dawn?” When Twilight did not correct her or protest, she continued, “She has been causing quite the uproar in the student body of late, with her…behavior.”

"I wasn't aware of that,” Twilight responded, hoping she didn't sound as guarded as she felt. It wasn't really a lie—it was not her girlfriend’s fault the students at Crystal Prep were fixated on Twilight’s academic and social lives to an unhealthy degree. They did that all on their own, no direct behavior or action from Sunset Shimmer necessary. Anything else had been heard second hand from Indigo…or Wallflower, before the fight.

“It has reached such levels that the faculty is now broadly aware of the events and student reactions.”

Twilight kept her tone clinical and level. "I find that paying attention to such things is a detriment to focusing on what really matters...like getting this project back on track so I meet the projected outcomes within the allotted time. I have no desire to turn it in for my final grades at the last second.” Her face twisted unpleasantly into a polite smile that made her nauseous, even as she followed the instructions of the lawyers to ‘be polite but don't give her any information that isn't about the data in your project.’ “I was made to understand it's a good form of preparation for the real world,” she continued, “and refusing to allow myself to be distracted by engaging in childish games of rumors and social posturing. Particularly after you advised me last year that such behavior is immature foolishness and to rise above it was a mark of maturity. You do have my…appreciation…however, for your kind gesture of concern about how the actions of my peers may be influencing my mental state.”

There was something darkly satisfying about the way her principal seemed taken aback for several seconds, as if Twilight’s reply had dealt a physical blow. She recovered after a moment’s pause, clearing her throat. “…of course, Miss Sparkle, of course…it is important that the students of this school continue to meet our standards of excellence, and it is my duty as the principal to investigate when something may be interfering with that.” One fingernail tapped steadily against the folder. “It is…pleasing…to hear that you are learning to put such things into practice and not allowing yourself to be led astray by the masses…” She paused, then continued on with some delicacy, “However, I would caution you to perhaps…take care that your own choices are not inadvertently fueling said ‘immaturity’…or engendering a different kind of unpleasant rumor…that would mean unfortunate long term repercussions for your…personal reputation.”

Her gut twisted at the words—it didn't take an IQ of over two hundred to grasp what the woman was alluding to with the statement—but Twilight did her best to not react, to remain logical and calm. “I’m not certain I understand, Principal Cinch.”

Distaste flitted across lined features so fast she almost thought she imagined it. “Surely you are not…unaware, Miss Sparkle…that your Canterlot High associate’s appearance and behavior are such that they will be making a very loud and specific social statement to the more discerning members of society? While I am certain her predilections matter little in the working class sphere to which she is most likely accustomed, when viewed in conjunction with her haphazard and dangerous choice in transportation, assumptions will be made when she steps out of that bubble. I would not wish to see your prospects tainted by your choice in a companion for your experiments into the rebellious dalliances so common in adolescents of your age.”

Hearing the bigoted rhetoric being presented as some kind of concerned plea by an authority figure would have made anyone angry in her place, but for Twilight, whose loving, supportive relationship this woman was likening to painting her nails black or getting her lip pierced, it felt like her veins had been injected with ice. It took everything she had to swallow the urge to verbally eviscerate her principal and her hidebound views. She let out a slow, carefully controlled breath, and stuck to the plan. “I am afraid I fail to grasp how a friend’s wardrobe choices or economical choice in personal transportation has any bearing on my schoolwork or the opportunities presented to me in my education…and I feel our conversation has deviated beyond the parameters set forth by my parents and my family’s retainers. As such, unless you can demonstrate a link I am unaware of between the subject and my active schoolwork, I believe it should be tabled until my parents can be present to discuss your concerns with them.”

It had been Indigo’s idea to ‘play dumb’ if Sunset came up, and Twilight was glad that it seemed to be an effective tactic. “With how she harped last year about deplorable behavior in the stairwells after a teacher caught Ruby Broach and Heliotrope Sky in one, she’ll probably try to bring up the rumors. You should just pretend not to ‘get it,” the basketball player had said with an impish smirk, one hand passing through the air over her head. “Just whoosh! Everyone always assumed before that you were oblivious to social things like that. Play it up. ‘Twilight Sparkle is far too naïve and innocent and she doesn't care about anything outside of the wonderful world of exams and a four-point-oh GPA, let alone something silly like dating.’ Be that Twilight, and pretend that your knight in bitching leather on a mechanical steed is just your bestest friend in the universe—like a sister to you.”

She had been briefly bothered by some of what Indigo had said, but having put the suggestion into practice and watching the way it had once again completely put the brakes on whatever angle her principal was trying in the meeting, the dark haired girl was starting to see the benefit in playing up some of her social flaws as a smoke shield. It wasn't all that different from her avoidance of any discussion of dating or crushes to prevent from outing herself…just…more direct than passive silence had been.

Principal Cinch could not hide the faint frown. “…I doubt it has reached a critical point worthy of involving your parents, Miss Sparkle. Consider it merely a tidbit of advice and concern from someone who has seen such things do irrevocable damage to young women like yourself in the past.” With that she turned her focus back to the binder, flipping it open again to read more meticulously, one hand absently fiddling with a bracelet Twilight had never before seen the woman wear.

It was pretty, in an old-fashioned sort of way; polished bits of gem set in antique silver, creating a series of hemisphere-like discs the size of large coins, with thickly braided metal connecting them and containing smaller stones. It was the kind of thing that wouldn't look out of place in a number of fantasy video games or movies, and it made a pleasing sound as it shifted on the pale blue wrist, catching the light periodically in sharp flashes and sparkles.

The woman was talking again, calling up a particular piece of data Twilight had falsified and comparing it to one of the earlier reports from before Twilight had become cagey with the information. Twilight found herself giving noncommittal answers, distracted by the bracelet and a growing sense of disquiet in her gut.

Focusing on that, the teen realized the air felt…off. Like there was a change in air pressure, pressing down on her and making the air in her lungs feel heavy, thick, and harder to push in and out or pull oxygen from. It was similar enough to some of the symptoms of her normal anxiety that she could analyze it without panicking, and in doing so, discovered how disturbingly different it was from normal. This pressure felt external, like the shift in pressure during take-off in an airplane, and it came with a tingling buzz at the edge of her senses, an almost electrical hum at the edge of her awareness, never quite actually impacting her nerve endings.

With every flash of light against the bracelet, Twilight fought the urge to wince. It was starting to irritate her eyes, and coupled with her high stress levels, lack of sleep, and the strange pressure, she was starting to get a headache. Closing her eyes briefly helped, and she let herself breathe slowly to push back the pain building in her temples and behind her eyes.

“Miss Sparkle,” the principal’s voice interrupted her breathing exercise, “I expect your attention in these meetings—my time is valuable and I am not doing them to hear myself speak.”

Cheeks heated and she snapped her eyes open, but found herself focusing neutrally on the woman’s forehead rather than her eyes. It was a tactic she had used when she was a lot younger and felt uncomfortable with prolonged eye contact with some people. “I apologize, ma’am. I was listening, but the lighting in here is bothering my eyes.”

There was a long pause and the woman finally nodded. “Then I will endeavor to make this quick, Miss Sparkle. I was looking at this map you included with notations of various detections of the anomaly, and I cannot help but notice how many are in close proximity to Canterlot High School.” One finger traced across the most prominent of the bracelet’s discs, the nail sliding smoothly over the surface.

Twilight forced her gaze back to that point on the lined forehead to avoid looking distracted again. “I had noticed that myself, but…while some of it is close, there are enough data points outside the radius—some of them considerably distant and one of them what I have labeled a Type A Event—which is enough to discredit the theory that the phenomenon is originating at Canterlot High.”

Even with her eyes fixed on the principal’s forehead, she could see the way her eyes gleamed. “And have you questioned any of the Canterlot students?” she practically demanded. “Since you seem to have made inroads there despite their lower class population and underachieving ideology of social egalitarianism, I assume you have had the chance to get more information?”

Irritation flickered, but it was less than the suspicion rising as Principal Cinch focused once again on the students of CHS—or more specifically, Sunset. “From the students I have engaged in conversation with,” she said evenly, “nothing unusual or out of the ordinary is occurring at the school itself. As almost all readings in proximity have been outside the building or off the campus proper, I am inclined to stand by my statement that there is not enough evidence to say that the phenomenon comes from the school itself.”

One brow arched upwards. “And how can you be certain that the students of Canterlot High have not deceived you?” Principal Cinch inquired. “There is, after all, a great deal of animosity between Crystal Prep and Canterlot.”

Her stomach twisted, and she felt nauseated at the question. “I have no reason to believe that what I was told is a lie, and given that my evidence corroborates their stories, I felt no need to look further in that direction. It felt like a waste of time, which is already a precious commodity for me.” Twilight hoped that her clinical tone was enough to sell the outright lie she was telling now.

It was a lie, she knew that. Between her principal’s unhealthy fixation on Sunset, the way she was reacting to the project, the data she was keeping back or altering in her project reports, and now the unanswered questions created by Wallflower’s video ‘evidence,’ Twilight knew she didn't have the entire story of everything that had been going on at Canterlot High, and how the strange energy played into it…and how deeply involved Sunset was with all of it.

Principal Cinch scrutinized her, frowning. “While the desire to be fair and impartial is admirable, Miss Sparkle, I do question your trusting nature in this instance. Canterlot High students have a reputation of hostility to members of this institution, a reputation that is, at its heart, propagated by the women in charge. They have a familial history of antagonism with Crystal Prep going back to the school’s founding, when a member of the family was forcibly ejected from the grounds.” One hand smoothed a wrinkle in the papers of the binder. “It is entirely possible—even likely—that the students of Canterlot are involved in their own experiments with this energy, and keeping that information from us with intent.”

Twilight had to fight the urge to scoff at how over the top and ridiculous the accusation was. From what she had seen and experienced, Sunset and those around her couldn't care less about the school rivalry most of the time. If anything, it was Crystal Prep students who relied heavily on the Games and defeating CHS to perpetuate their sense of superiority. “While I admit to not always being the best at peer based interactions, Principal Cinch, I did take the liberty of asking some rather direct questions of a friend who was forced to transfer from Crystal Prep to CHS for familial reasons about the school and its differences from here. I believe, given the quantity of information immediately offered without reservation, that were there any occurrences that could be considered unusual, it would have been at the least mentioned during that. I feel that you are reading too much into a situation and that following that line of thinking will ultimately set my project back an unacceptable amount.”

The woman was right about one thing—people were not telling her everything. And Sunset was also right. This energy was something she was starting to regret having put forth as a project topic, because it was drawing attention she didn't want. Twilight listened with half an ear as Principal Cinch continued making noise about not trusting CHS attendees about the energy, her brain working on a deeper problem. Somehow, there were answers she needed about the energy being kept from her, but they were tied to the strange videos, the amphitheater, and the Sunset in the footage who had been casually discussing magic, of all things, with a woman who had looked like Twilight’s older, bustier twin.

She was going to get some answers, one way or another, she decided, but not for Principal Abacus Cinch and Crystal Prep. These answers were for Twilight Sparkle, to make sense of the circus her life had become.

*gleeful cackling*

Cinch really wants info on Sunset...and is not getting what they want.

Too bad for them.

Twilight is....starting to get very twitchy. Not that I blame her. I'd be outright paranoid myself by this point. You know, if I wasn't already a touch suspicious and paranoid about everyone anyway. (I've been an RPer too long not to be paranoid about people having ulterior motives, unfortunately.)

And now Twilight's on the hunt for answers.

This cant possibly end well.

For anyone.