“Hey, babe.”

Lightning Dust went from trot to zero in a split-second, skidding to a halt underneath a dim, flickering street lamp. Other ponies brushed past her with impatient huffs and barely a glance whilst she listened to the clip clop of a particular set of hooves going at a slower pace than the rest of the pedestrians.

Slowly, she turned around and watched as the pegasus stallion approached her with what he probably thought was a suave smile. Tall, athletic build, slicked-back hair, slightly overpowering cologne – the type that usually had school mares swooning and tripping over themselves as they lined up to pledge their undying loyalty and adoration.

“Where’re you headed?” asked the stallion as he stopped before her and brushed his hair back with a wing. Then, without waiting for her to answer, he grinned and continued, “Me and the guys have a place booked at the Rocking Jungle tonight. You wanna come? Happy endings guaranteed!”

“That’s nice, but aren’t you going to take me out to dinner first?” she asked.

As if on cue, the street lamp overhead flickered and brightened just enough to illuminate Lightning Dust’s face. The stallion’s grin faltered for a second, then wilted right off his muzzle whilst his pupils shrank and flicked around, probably cataloguing every detail for later use in his nightmares.

The stallion took a step back, ears flat. “Uh, well…”

She grinned and extended her right wing to him. “Name’s Lightning Dust. What’s yours?”

He didn’t bump her wing. He simply stared at what looked like an extra, crooked joint on her humerus.

As if deciding that a bit of mercy was in order, the street lamp flickered and dimmed back down to obscure her features.

In the silence that followed, the stallion glanced around, as if looking for somepony to swoop in and rescue him. When no assistance came, he winced at her and said, “Umm, I think I mistook you for somepony else. Bye.”

He then spread his wings and flapped off.

Lightning Dust casually folded her wing and glanced at her reflection in a nearby puddle. Streaks of bare, lumpy skin and misaligned fuzz lay over her cheeks, eyebrows, forehead and chin. One ear had a couple of notches missing. She even had a bit of a permanent side shave because her mane refused to grow back properly on the left side of her head.

When she lifted her gaze, she found that the stallion had already disappeared, probably into an alley or round the corner of a skyscraper.

She adjusted her saddlebags to a more comfortable position, looked back into the puddle, then grinned and shook her head as she trotted on. “What a bitch.”

Despite Manehattan’s flyer-unfriendly signage, she eventually found her destination on hoof, in one of the older districts.

Most of the shop houses on the block had bright and colourful banners to advertise their presence, but the Iron Wall seemed intent on bucking that trend by having all of its letters cut from cast iron to go together with the gaudy, gold-plated bust of a winking minotaur giving the thumbs-up.

As soon as Lightning Dust stepped through the door, the absolutely massive earth mare at the counter grinned at her and boomed, “Welcome to the Iron Wall! Can I help you with anything!”

Lightning Dust blinked. That last part sounded more like a threat than a question.

Unlike its external aesthetic, the interior at least looked like an actual shop, though she’d never seen this particular combination of goods for sale under the same roof before. The place was filled with stacks of tins, bottles and even barrels of various health supplements, alongside bags of what looked like sand and cement, and display cases with various cross-section samples of wood, marble and steel rebar. Farther back, she spotted a rack of barbells, weighted harnesses, skipping rope, sledgehammers, pickaxes and bow saws, right next to what she could only imagine was somepony’s attempt at crossing a treadmill with a neighdieval torture device – the number of spikes on that thing was way too cool to be practical.

“Yeah…” She took another glance around and ruffled her wings. “I heard that you guys have a special treatment for, you know… performance enhancement.”

The mare thumped a hoof on the counter, which bent and groaned in protest. “Damn straight we do! Do you have an appointment?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s too bad!” The mare then locked eyes with her and growled, “But are you going to let that stop you?”

That mare looked like she was one wrong word away from snapping her like a twig, provided she could catch her.

Lightning Dust took a step back, wondering if maybe she should’ve come prepared with a baseball bat. “Umm… no?”

The mare held her gaze for a moment, long enough for Lightning to break out a bead of sweat, before she finally stomped on the floor – probably cracking it in the process – and boomed, “Yeah girl, that’s the spirit! Head upstairs and the boss’ll see you in a minute!”

“Weirdo,” Lightning Dust mumbled as she walked up the indicated stairs.

The second floor looked more like the inside of a typical office building, laced with the scent of paper and metal cabinets. Still, it had construction tools and crates of health products lying around, as if to remind its occupants of the exact nature of their business. Lightning Dust felt an annoying ache in her chest as images of the Washouts’ cruddy office and staging grounds came flooding back, and she had to take a moment to shove the memories back into the past where they belonged.

The Washouts were done. After she’d washed out from the Washouts, the whole thing fell apart without her to draw the crowds. Too bad. It wasn’t her fault that the new recruits had let the Wonderbolts get into their heads with all those PSAs about safety and responsibility. And Rainbow Dash, that dumb—

Lightning Dust snorted and shook her head.

No, no distractions. She was here on important business.

A minotaur sat hunched over some paperwork at a desk in the middle of the office, surrounded by filing drawers and workout gear. He looked like he actually used them, too. Lightning didn’t know what their standards were, but this guy looked like he could wrestle a dragon and choke it senseless with those bulging biceps, if he didn’t first impale it with his massive horns. His black necktie was making a valiant effort of not snapping from the tension of containing the girth of his neck, and his chest probably could’ve stopped cannonballs. She could also see hints of scarring underneath his cobalt fur.

Finally, someone who wasn’t just a wimpy pencil pusher!

His beady yellow eyes studied her for a few tense seconds as she approached his desk, like a python trying to decide whether its prey could fit into its mouth. Then, a grin split his muzzle as he tossed his pen aside and jabbed a finger at her so hard that it sounded like the crack of a whip.

“You, Miss!” he bellowed, sending a few sheets of paper flying off his desk. “What is your name?”

Lightning skidded to a halt. “Uh… Lightning Dust.”

“Excellent, Miss Dust! You have come to the right place!”

“You know what I’m here for?”

“Of course! Iron Will can tell that you have searched long and hard for a solution to your problems!”

He reached behind the desk and rummaged around for a few seconds, then scooted around on his office chair to retrieve various items from the surrounding shelves and cabinets, its wheels protesting with loud creaks as he did so.

“Iron Will doesn’t usually stock much of these, but where there is an Iron Will, there is an Iron Way!” He slammed down a canvas bag onto the desk, stuffed with various bottles, jars and tubes. “All yours for a very reasonable price of eighty bits!”

Lightning Dust peered at the labels and scowled. “Mane regrowth potion? Skin cream? Preening oil? Dude, these are beauty products.”

He nodded and flexed one arm. “Competitive with top-of-the-line brands! Everything you need to go back to the way you were, and better, even!”

“I’m not here for a makeover, mister!” She snapped, flaring her wings as she stepped right up to his desk. She then pointed a pair of primary feathers at her face with both wings. “I earned these by busting my flanks performing the most extreme stunts in Equestria. I’m not some wilting flower trying to make things go back to the way they were! I. Move. Forward.”

Iron Will blinked.

Slowly, without taking his eyes off her, he pushed the offending bag of cosmetics aside. Then, he steepled his hands, closed his eyes, breathed in deeply through his nostrils, and released his breath before finally locking eyes with her once more.

“Iron Will apologises for making assumptions,” he said with a small nod. “Please inform Iron Will of the services you actually require.”

Lightning just realised that he was one of those weirdos who referred to themselves in third person, and resisted the urge to facehoof. She’d come this far; it wouldn’t hurt to stick around a little longer to see if there was anything to be salvaged from this.

She folded her wings and sighed. “Right. I’m here for one of your specials.”

He nodded sagely. “Which one? Iron Will has many specials.”

“This.” She fished a flyer out of her saddlebag and slapped it onto his desk, revealing the image of a flexing minotaur silhouetted in steel-grey light and bold letters. “The Full Iron Treatment. It’s supposed to improve physical performance across the board, right?”

“Satisfaction completely guaranteed!”

“Is it magic or substance-based?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve gotten some mileage out of hydra blood and Breezie dust before, but those are expensive and tend to knock me out when the crash hits. And I draw the line at cursed artefacts; I don’t want anything that messes with my mind.”

Iron Will chuckled as he stood up. “Oh, Iron Will guarantees that it will be a magical experience. Please follow.”

He led her to a dark backroom, and Lightning Dust froze as soon as he switched the lights on. It reminded her of a dentist’s office, except that the aesthetics consisted mostly of iron and wood instead of sterile white plastics. And the chair, although appearing exceptionally plush and comfy, had the questionable distinction of possessing thick straps and buckles for restraining its occupant. The rack of spiky instruments next to it didn’t help.

Iron Will paid no mind to any of those as he casually strolled to the sink and washed his hands, whistling as if he was just about to prepare breakfast.

Lightning Dust swallowed and steeled herself with a deep breath. “So… what exactly is supposed to happen? You can’t seriously expect me to hop into that without explaining what the procedure is.”

“Iron Will prefers to let clients experience treatment first-hoof.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, no. I know I didn’t specify it, but back alley surgery is off the table.”

He turned around and blinked, following her gaze to the strapped chair. “Oh, no, no. We charge extra for that. Your seat is right there.”

Lightning turned and found a wooden stool in the corner, next to a worn cushion on the floor.
She moved towards the stool, but stopped when Iron Will cleared his throat and said, “Please remove your saddlebags and sit on the cushion. The stool is for Iron Will.”

“Okay, quit beating around the bush,” she growled. “You said it the treatment’s magical, but I haven’t seen so much as a sparkle from anything in here. You haven’t even mentioned how much it’s going to cost!”

“Fifty bits per session, and you get a ten-minute free trial.” He grinned and cracked his knuckles. “Iron Will said that it will be a magical experience, and Iron Will intends to deliver. Please sit down.”

The lightbulb finally went off in Lightning’s brain. “Wait, are you telling me that the Full Iron Treatment is just a stupid massage? I can get that in any trashy spa—do you have any idea how many of those I passed on my way here? I’m a high-performance flyer; I’m looking for something that can give a real boost for my stunts, not some stupid—”

She cut herself off with a snort and spun around. “Forget it, I’m out.”

“You have trouble making sharp banks, don’t you?”

Lightning Dust froze partly through the doorway. Glancing over her shoulder, she frowned at him and muttered, “How did—”

“Iron Will can see a lot of tension in your flight muscles, especially the dorsoralis. It’s worse on your right side because you have a malunion fracture on your wing’s humerus.” He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Iron Will would recommend avoiding that hospital in the future.”

“I… you…” She lowered her eyes and gritted her teeth to stop her right wing from involuntarily ruffling its feathers. “There was no hospital.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Too far from one when you were injured?”

“I was stupid, okay?” She snapped. “I broke my wing and tried to set it myself. I didn’t know how badly I’d screwed up the alignment until it was already healed, and the hospitals refused to break it and re-set it properly because I could fly just fine as is and apparently only wanted it for non-essential purposes. Those dumb—”

Lightning paused when she realised she was shaking. After taking a deep breath to steady herself, she lowered her gaze and said, “I… I was too low on bits to pay for private treatment at the time. I probably have enough now, but after my stunt crew ditched me, I can’t afford to wait for another round of healing. I figured I might as well look for alternative performance enhancers first. Get enough of an edge to rebuild my fanbase and put a bit of padding in my account before I try fixing my wing for real. I need something that actually works!”

She waited, bracing for disdain, pity, or worse, a lecture on safety, but the silence stretched until she couldn’t take it anymore.

When Lightning met his eyes again, he no longer looked like some swindler sizing up a mark—none of that calculating sharpness in those small eyes or the hint of a self-satisfied smirk on that muzzle—just… sincerity? Respect? She might’ve forgotten what those looked like…

Before either of them could say anything, their ears perked up and flicked towards the sound of hooves marching up the stairs.

“—can’t go in there, just wait a bit!” came the shopkeeper’s voice.

“And waste more of our time? I think not.”

Lightning Dust tensed up when she heard the second speaker. That scratchy voice reminded her way too much of the two most – she wouldn’t say hated, but it was definitely somewhere along the lines of irritatingly uncool – mares in her life.

That comparison wasn’t helped when the owner of said voice trotted into view of the backroom.

The colours and manestyle didn’t match, but those aviator shades, the blue uniform, and the uptight posture of a mare who just knew that she was in charge practically screamed Spitfire 2.0, Policemare Edition. And her partner officer might as well have been Soarin, judging by the way he followed her around like a lost puppy. It was uncanny. If it hadn’t been for the horns on their foreheads, Lightning Dust might’ve even suspected them of being her old superiors in disguise.

“Sorry, boss,” said the shopkeeper as they crowded around the doorway. “They didn’t feel like waiting.”

“No problem! Iron Will will handle this,” he said as he stepped past Lightning Dust and faced them at the doorway. After dismissing his employee with a wave, he then turned to the pair of unicorns and smiled politely. “Officer Warrant, Officer Arrest. How may Iron Will help you this evening?”

“Don’t you Officer me, Mister Will,” Warrant growled as she took of her shades and slipped them into her pocket. “Ponies have been complaining about your products and services. Again.”

“Is that so?” Iron Will glanced at her partner. “How’s the leg?”

“Oh, it’s much better, actually!” The stallion chuckled and wiggled his foreleg happily. His ears then flattened when he noticed his superior glaring at him. “Ah… I mean, sure, it got better, but it could’ve been placebo effect, I guess?”

Warrant harrumphed. “The point is, an awful lot of your customers have been complaining about your services and products. Most of them claim false advertisement.”

“Iron Will promises results, and Iron Will delivers results!” he boomed, flexing and striking a pose at lightning speed. In the next second, he adjusted his tie, folded his arms and loomed over them like an attorney with an iron-clad case. “Terms and conditions apply. Dissatisfaction with the process is not sufficient grounds for returns, refunds, replacement or compensation when advertised results have been achieved.”

“Mister Will, when Mister Uzhayn paid you to exorcise a broken soul jar, you just stuck it back together with superglue!”

“The spirit occupant was very appreciative and stopped cursing him.”

“You organised a Princessland tour for that Abyssinian when she actually wanted a trip to Canterlot!”

“In Iron Will’s defence, she did not specify that she wanted to see a real princess’ castle. Besides, she liked Princessland anyway.”

“My cousin placed an order for something that would enlarge his… horn, and you shipped him a magnifying glass and some magazines!” she snapped as she levitated a crumpled brochure up to him.

“Did it work?”

Warrant snorted. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what the problem is!”

“Oh?” Iron Will smirked. “If your cousin is that unsatisfied, then why hasn’t he come back? Iron Will doesn’t see you carrying any of the goods to be returned on his behalf.”

“That’s not—he…” Warrant ground her teeth. “He didn’t want to return the magazines…”

“Didn’t want to share them, either,” Arrest muttered under his breath.

Lightning Dust couldn’t help sniggering when Warrant gave her subordinate a supremely annoyed scowl; it was almost like being back at the ‘Bolts Academy. The way she whipped her head to face any source of laughter could’ve given Spitfire a run for her bits, too.

Unfortunately, her little outburst had gotten the attention of the cops.

“You! Ma’am.” Warrant pointed at Lightning. “Has Mister Will bee—oh dear…”

As Warrant’s jaw dropped, Arrest did a double take and cried, “Sweet Celestia, what happened to your face? You look like somepony took a buzz saw and—ow!”

“Apologies, ma’am,” said Warrant as she withdrew her elbow from her partner’s ribs. A notepad and pencil floated out of her pocket and hovered before her. “We don’t mean to pry, but… are any of your injuries the result of Mister Will’s products or practices? If you’re here to make any claims against him, we can hel—”

“Nope.”

Warrant blinked. “Oh. Were you here to get that fixed, then? Because I can guarantee you that there are far more reputable establishments to—”

Lightning Dust resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she smiled and shook her head, saying, “Nah. I’m here for something else. Everything’s fine.”

The pencil wavered uncertainly. “Are you sure? You have absolutely no complaints about Mister Will? No hanky-panky that you’d like to report? Because if there’s anything iffy at all, just tell us and we’ll sort it all out for you.”

“Nope. He’s been very helpful.”

From the corner of her eyes, she’d noticed Iron Will’s subtle shift in posture and the surprised flick of his ears, but he otherwise remained silent whilst Warrant and Arrest studied her. Well, too bad for them. Lightning had plenty of experience keeping a straight face, and she had no intention of selling him out to a pair of law enforcement goons, even if he was a bit of a slicker.

Eventually, Warrant huffed and tucked her notepad and pencil away. “Okay, if you say so. Just stay sharp, you hear? Don’t let Mister Will upsell you on useless junk or scams. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.”

Lightning Dust waved a wing reassuringly. “Yeah, I get it. Don’t worry about me.”

Warrant gave Iron Will the stink eye before finally marching off with Arrest in tow. “Mind yourself, Mister Will. My Pa hasn’t forgiven you for that scam of a zeppelin cruise you ran. You keep dancing on the line like that and one day, you’re going to land in hot water.”

Once they’d disappeared from view, and the sound of their hooves on the stairs faded away, Iron Will turned to her and said, “Why’d you do that?”

“Let’s just say that I’m not a fan of authority figures. Also, it’s not as if you’ve actually cheated me or anything. Yet.” She plodded over to the cushion, plopped her butt onto it and arched her back with a groan. She then shrugged off her saddlebags and beckoned him with a wing. “Besides, you promised me a free massage, so I might as well get something out of this trip. Get over here and do your thing.”

“Excellent! When in doubt, just let it play out!” The stool creaked ominously when Iron Will sat, and Lightning tried to ignore how much his cracking knuckles sounded like snapping bones when he was right behind her. “This will only hurt for a second.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait, wha—”

The first strike felt like somepony had smacked her shoulder with a sledgehammer. She gasped and bowed under the weight of the blow, and she didn’t even get to say a word before the next hit knocked all rational thought out of her brain.

Iron Will absolutely obliterated her. He dismantled her limb from limb, muscle from bone. He twisted. Pulled. Kneaded. Squeezed throbbing tension out of muscles in places she never knew she had. Mashed her like putty in his hands. The whole while, there was some stupid mare distracting her with an awful lot of moaning and groaning. Sounded uncannily like her, though.

At some point, he must’ve reassembled her back into the shape of a pony, because she suddenly had the ability to form coherent thoughts again. She rolled her shoulders, flared her wings and arched her spine. Gasped when she wriggled her body back into a relaxed posture. Everything moved with buttery smoothness, as if somepony had removed invisible pins and clamps from her bones and muscles.

“Holy sheep,” she whispered, staring off into space.

She heard him chuckle. “First hit’s free! Next one has a fee!”

“I’m sorely tempted.” Lightning then rubbed her chin with a wing. “Actually, come to think of it… that cop said you’ve organised events, right? How big?”

“As big as needed. Iron Will has many contacts and resources!”

“Ever done an air show before?”

“No. Iron Will never had a stunt team.”

“You do now.” Lightning Dust puffed her chest out and pointed a feather at herself the same way a griffon would with a thumb. “You get me a venue, some props and a crowd, and I’ll blow them away with stunts even the Wonderbolts are too chicken to try.”

She then grinned and extended her wing out to him. “What do you say?”

After a moment of silence, Iron Will smiled – she could’ve sworn she’d heard the ding of a cash register as he did so – and grabbed her wing instead of bumping it. Lightning gritted her teeth and kept grinning as he shook it in his vice-like grip, until he eventually released her and bellowed, “Miss Dust, you have got yourself a deal. Now, let’s go make some money!”

She ruffled her feathers and sighed when she found that her feathers and bones were intact, if a bit squished. But that couldn’t keep down the tide of anticipation rising up in her chest. This. This was her ticket out of the dumpster she’d been wallowing in for ages. Her pulse quickened. She was going to take back the sky. She was going to remind everypony who the best stunt flyer in Equestria was!

Lightning joined Iron Will in striking a pose and cried, “Yeah! We’re gonna make the Wonderbolts eat crow. Whoo!”

Lightning Dust was no stranger to cold, but the northern border of the Crystal Empire was pushing it even for her, especially since they had no weather teams to keep things under control. Icy air sank its fangs into the insides of her lungs whenever she drew breath. But the stinging quickly faded, quelled by the heat of her blood as her heart thumped in her chest, and emerged as puffs of fog from her nostrils like exhaust from a steam engine.

She kept her wings steady and circled over the perimeter of the massive stadium, though that term might’ve been a bit generous. Instead of bleachers, they had enormous, tiered stone benches that would freeze the butts off anyone other than a crystal pony. And instead of a grassy field, they’d apparently seen fit to build the whole thing in the Crystal Mountains, right at the edge of the tree line where even pines were struggling to grow. At this altitude, there was so much snowy precipitation that it already looked like twilight even though the sun was still in the sky. Madmares.

Still, ponies were ponies, and these were starved for a proper air show, judging by the way they stomped, screamed and cheered for her even in between stunts. Now, that was a crowd that knew how to appreciate her work!

“Fillies and gentlecolts,” boomed Iron Will’s voice from the speakers as he prowled on the director’s stage, “the time has come for the grand finale! You’ve seen her do the Soaring Spine Twister Manoeuvre. You’ve seen her fly the Firespitter Gauntlet. You’ve seen her close call with the jaws of the Rainbow Crashinator Mark Two! But you’ve never seen her attempt our newest, deadliest stunt yet – the Iron Dust Firestorm!”

The goat-operated floodlights flared to life, illuminating hundreds of wooden barrels arranged in a spiral in the middle of the stadium. Each one had a grinning skull painted on its side, and a metal rod poking straight out of the top like a fuse. The crowd’s volume dipped a little as they attempted to process what they were seeing.

“Will she survive? Who knows!”

The floodlights dimmed as an air horn blew into the sky, and that was her cue to begin.

Lightning Dust pumped her wings and accelerated above the perimeter of the stadium, about a hundred feet above the heads of the audience. The air roared in her ears as she picked up speed, gradually increasing in pitch until it was saturated with the whine of a jet stream. Frost built up on her flight goggles. Her heart raced and hammered against her ribcage. Her hair and feathers stiffened and prickled with accumulated static charge, until she heard a sharp crackle, and the snowy ground below flashed yellow-white from the continuous trail of electrical sparks she left in her wake.

She grinned.

It’s go time!

She banked into the stadium and descended rapidly, trembling as she fought to maintain the speed necessary for electrical arcing. Lower and lower she went, until she was inside the stadium proper and only a couple of feet above any barrel’s metal rod. She banked in a little more to fix her alignment, just in time to pass directly above the first barrel in the outermost end of the spiral. Each metal rod conducted an arc from her trail into a delayed charge, which gave her just enough time to clear the blast radius before the barrel exploded.

Lightning Dust gritted her teeth as the series of fiery explosions in her wake threatened to buck her off course. She completed one cycle, and a wall of incandescent orange flames rose up on her left as she entered the next layer of the spiral. Barrel after barrel she primed, adding to the pressure wave at her back with each detonation.

Second cycle done. Now there was fire on either side of her.

Third cycle. Soot replaced the frost on her goggles.

Fourth cycle. Splinters peppered her hide.

All the while, she’d been increasing her bank angle to keep up with the tightening spiral. A few feathers snapped from the heat and strain.

As she completed the fifth and final cycle, she pitched upward, drawing up air and flames until she had a fire tornado chasing her into the sky like an angry sea serpent. By then, she’d stopped spiralling and simply allowed her momentum to carry her straight up. She bled off momentum until she reached her zenith, high above the blinding inferno in the middle of the stadium.

She’d placed a lone cloud conveniently there beforehoof, and grabbed a large chunk of it before surrendering to gravity. It took some effort to mould it to hug her body like a second skin, but she managed it in record time and then accelerated downward, right into the inferno.

The sheer amount of air she brought along on her dive warded off most of the fire, and her ablative clouding protected her from the rest. Mostly. She hadn’t grabbed as much as she’d liked.

She flared her wings at the last second, hissing as stray flames licked at them, and then slammed into the mixture of sleet, dirt and smouldering remains of black powder on the ground. Her superhero landing produced a radiating burst of snow-laden air that extinguished the inferno, leaving only a narrow ring of fire right at the outermost rim of the spiral.

For a moment, all was silent on the mountaintop.

Lightning Dust could her herself wheezing, hunched over on the spot.

Get up.

She swallowed dryly, then ripped off her blackened goggles and shakily rose until she stood straight and tall.

Then, Iron Will roared, “Unbelievable! She has survived the Iron Dust Firestorm! I repeat—she has survived the Firestorm! Give it up for Lightniiing Duuussst!

The crowd screamed and cheered so loudly that Lightning could’ve sworn her bones were rattling. Nopony heard her cackling in between gasps for breath as she stumbled towards the stage, waving and blowing kisses to them. Briefly, she wondered if this was what changelings felt like when they ate; if that was the case, she really couldn’t blame them for anything.

“—and that’s it for today, fillies and gentlecolts! Make sure you have your vouchers with you; our merch, swag and performance supplements will be available for purchase soon—you know where to find us! And keep your ears to the ground for our next performance; you never know where or when the fearless Lightning Dust will defy death once more! Until next time!”

Something caught Lightning’s eye on her way to joining Iron Will on the stage. She turned, squinted at the far end of the stadium, and then ground her teeth when she saw armoured figures pushing through the crowd towards her.

Crystal Guards. And they did not look happy.

She stuck a pair of feathers in her mouth—ignoring the crispy texture and sooty flavour—and whistled sharply.

Luckily, one of the mountain goats heard her over the cheering of the crowd and let loose a short series of blasts with an air horn to signal the others. They had an imminent Code Red.

Iron Will and the rest of his goat crew were quick on the uptake; they immediately rushed to their designated stations, packing what valuables could be carried and scattering into the snowy dusk. The heavier equipment would either have to be written off or recovered at a later time.

“Halt, this is an unauthorised public event!” yelled the leading guard as they spread out and tried to chase after the fleeing goats.

One of them went straight for Lightning Dust, and she almost had a heart attack when she leapt into the air and came crashing back down. Her feathers were too scorched, and her crooked wing had cramped up completely. Fortunately, the guard was on the opposite end of the stadium.

She broke into a stumbling canter towards Iron Will, who’d left the stage and was heading towards the mountain’s southward slope, with a snowboard under one arm and a large backpack held in the other.

More armoured crystal ponies were catching up.

Lightning reached Iron Will’s side just at the point where the slope was steep enough for a speedy tumble downhill. He’d just finished fastening the backpack’s straps around his chest, and when he raised an eyebrow at her, she said, “My wings are busted. I need a ride!”

“Stop, both of you!”

They turned and faced the Crystal Guards as they formed a semicircle around them.

“There’s nowhere left to run. That slope leads to a sheer cliff,” their leader growled. His eyes then widened when he noticed the snowboard at Iron Will’s hooves and the ripcords on his backpack. “You can’t be serious.”

Iron Will grinned and snatched Lightning Dust up in an underarm grip. He then jumped onto the snowboard and propelled himself forward with a mighty kick, shouting, “Iron Dust Enterprises is not subject to Crystal Empire law. No taxes!”

Lightning Dust whooped as they sped down the mountainside. Dusk was fully upon them, turning the snow into a deep blue shade. The wind roared in her ears once more, and she would’ve stretched her legs and wings out if she hadn’t been worried about throwing off Iron Will’s balance.

Some of the guards tried to gallop after them, but without any pegasi or unicorns on their team, they had no hope of stopping them.

They whooshed past rocky outcroppings and trees, throwing up a plume of snow in their wake. Iron Will didn’t even slow down when the sheer cliff led to empty air before them, like a gateway into the abyss. They sailed clean over the edge and fell for what felt like an uncomfortably long time to Lightning Dust, before Iron Will finally deployed the parachute.

From there, it was a smooth descent until they landed in the snowy forest below.

Lightning Dust flopped onto a snowdrift and lay on her back, staring up at the tiny specks of light near the mountaintop. She then hissed when her wing seized up with another cramp, accompanied with some sharp stinging on her skin around her flanks and hind legs.

“Ooh, ow. Tomorrow's going to suck,” she growled.

Iron Will plucked a crystal lamp from his belt and shone the light over her body. After a minute of inspection, plus five more for the quick applications of poultices, gauze and medical tape from his fanny pack, he nodded and said, “Nothing Iron Will can’t patch up. Can you walk?”

“Gimme a minute.”

By then, the last of her adrenaline had worn off, and the cold was finally reaching her bones. Even though the nearest town was less than an hour’s walk away, she didn’t fancy doing so in her current condition.

As soon as she started shivering, Iron Will produced a small gourd and popped off the cork. The air instantly stank of charcoal and citrus as he lowered it to her muzzle, and liquid fire burned going down her throat as she drank greedily. The warmth spread to her extremities like wildfire, until lying in the snow almost felt like sweating under a heavy blanket.

She smacked her lips to get the last of the bitter, fruity flavour and sighed. “Aww yeah. That hit the spot just right…”

“Iron Will did tell you that Nirik Ale was a worthwhile investment.” As soon as he put away the gourd, he loomed over her, then jabbed a finger at her like a drill sergeant and bellowed, “Now, are you ready to get off your butt and count some profits?”

Lightning Dust sniggered.

“Aye, captain,” she said, giving him a mock salute with a wing as she got onto her hooves. “Let’s get out of here. I can’t wait to see what Rainbow Crash has to say when we make the headlines again!”