Fortunately for the operatives, a dull-eyed vampire had also decided to not go gently, and had led its pursuers on a grand chase through the city. Its ragged tail was scorched and it had a blade of blessed silver through the gut, but still it ran, unknowing and uncaring where its hooves took it so long as the things that followed were not there. When it first awoke into the world, the booming voice behind the bright lights had said that it was created to inspire fear, but those things had no fear. Only fire, horrible, horrible fire. The bane of any vampire, even itself.

So, when it ran past the ARGUS poster and out of the alleyway, it did not care how many greatcoat-clad soldiers turned toward it with their noisy guns. They understood fear, the beast could smell that sweet scent as soon as it sank its teeth into one of them and the others hosed the area in fright. Their shots were wild, their wills weak, they were not soldiers but a mob filled with terror. The bleached vampire was fast, that was its birthright, faster than they could follow with their poorly-made guns. It tore through one, then another, taking only quick gulps of blood so as not to sacrifice its only advantage. The survivors turned and ran in terror rather than face its fangs. ARGUS called its infantry soldiers, but they were more truly conscripts kept in check by fear.

That fear was maintained by their leaders. The pegasus flapped his wings and roared out a command, punctuating it by firing a few rounds from his pistol into the air. The Chimera gunners opened up, pounding the asphalt around the vampire with heavy slugs, and even its speed could not save it from that hail of fire. It came apart as bullets ripped into its body from three different directions, reducing the vampire to shreds along with a few ARGUS members too slow to escape the barrage. When the gunners ceased fire, six bodies lay on the ground. The pegasus nodded proudly, blew a coil of smoke from his pistol, and landed. Well, that was another feather in his cap. Now, to liquidate these bothersome candymakers and report back...

Unfortunately for the officer, that vampire had not been alone. Behind him had been seven more of his strain, all running scared. They poured out of the alleyway and sank their fangs into the first things they saw. The pegasus roared at his soldiers, ordering them into living walls between the monsters and the Chimera gunners, but too late. The bleached beasts were already among the mobs of ARGUS members, teeth ripping and tearing. They fought with a frenzy only known by creatures caught between certain death and and the hope of escape, while the soldiers were hemmed in by their comrades and fired wild shots. One of the beasts lept atop a Chimera to tear into the gunner's throat. Hot blood spilled down the side of the AFV, and the roar of its twin-linked machine gun fell silent.

While the pegasus tried to reassert his authority and direct his minions, Octavia and her operatives had been busy clubbing down the mob of armed ponies holding the firefighters at gunpoint. The grateful civilians ran for their wagons and fled, providing yet another distraction. As soon as the pegasus had turned his back, Rollins had zipped into the one Bon Hadescream AFV and ignited the engine. None of this was audible over the whine of the heavy machine guns and chatter of lesser automatic fire, but all the operatives knew that as soon as the vampires were dead ARGUS would waste no time trying to add them to the tally. They almost made a clean escape, but just as Octavia hauled the last black-armored candymaker through the rear hatch and Rollins stomped on the gas, an ARGUS Chimera rolled right in front of them.

The street fell silent, save for the ringing echo of gunfire and the moaning of wounded ponies. All eight of the vampires lay in tatters, alongside many ARGUS members. Many of their comrades had sick expressions on their faces, but far more had simply shifted back from terror to a hollow-eyed stare. To object was to be disciplined, or "disappear" as an example. ARGUS could always get more recruits. Nopony asked what Princess Celestia thought of such things. She lived in Canterlot, with the beautiful ponies. She did not care what happened to the lowest of the low. ARGUS offered food, shelter, and purpose. Once a pony put on the greatcoat to cover his cutie mark, he wore it until death. ARGUS offered equality, fraternity, and prosperity. As they remembered these things that had been drilled into them, even those with sickly expressions formed back with their comrades. Better to blend in, to keep one's head down, and hope that your luck would hold. To stick up was to be hammered down.

As for the operatives of the Bon Hadescream Organization, their time had run out. Rollins' eyes searched the driver's compartment, then the front viewport, then he turned to look back into the passenger compartment and out through the open rear hatch. He found a map and a few files of information, a sheet of metal with a cogwheel-eye symbol staring back through the viewport, and a few wounded Operatives looking at the floor. Octavia stood at the back hatch, her hoof just above the button to close it. Their eyes met for a moment. The other end of the street was blocked by another Chimera, otherwise the gryphon would have thrown the AFV into reverse and plowed through the mob. ARGUS had blockaded the other two lanes of the intersection just as thoroughly, more by accident than anything else. The Chimera drivers had instinctively backed away from the massacre to ensure their gunners had clear angles of fire on the vampires.

"Sorry I slowed you down..." the last operative she had helped in said. His left fetlock was wrapped with gauze and a nasty scorch mark ran down one side of his armor. "Should have left me behind."

"You're half right," Rollins said glumly. "Keep you, leave the barrel of evil." He brightened for a moment. "We don't have much except each other. We keep faith with one another, that's the whole point of Harmony." Outside, another Chimera's engine growled as the pegasus ordered it to move. "We all know what we're fighting for, and every one of us has a place on the Spire. This is our glory, to die forgotten, but to have died knowing that we did our all." A smirk crossed his face. "That we are worth killing."

Octavia felt a cold chill run down her spine. As motivational speeches went it was poor, but as she looked over the wounded candymakers in black armor, she could think of few better things to say. One of the operatives lying on the floor, half-conscious from pain medication and medi-gel, laughed. "They... they're terrified of us," she rasped.

"So terrified they brought an army," the communications officer replied. "An' even then, that almost wasn't enough."

Outside, the pegasus grinned, and was about to give the order to bombard these troublesome candymakers with rotary cannon fire. The honor of expunging these unponies from the records of history was his, and though they would have to track down those firefighters for thought restructuring, he was certain now that he would return in glory. That promotion was almost within his grasp. To ensure no further surprises could yank this prize out from under his nose, he had stationed a Chimera and a ring of his best-trained soldiers around that infernal alleyway. The officer cleared his throat, adjusted his hat, and took a deep breath. This was a fateful order, one that must be given with the proper flair.

The word was upon the tip of his tongue when, for the third time, he was interrupted by something from the alleyway. It was not a Warphound, or a pack of lycans, or even an angry dragon roaring like a king of the monsters, but it still gave him just as much pause. Out of the narrow passage, the sconces mounted on their backs casting shadows on the pockmarked pavement, trotted three Imparters of the Educarchy in splendid wargear. Golden chains held their battle robes tight against their bodies, but as those robes swayed one could see technomystical circuits glimmering across the armor underneath. Each mare wore a stiff-necked collar fastened with a brass brooch in the shape of the Icon Celestia, and each carried an innocent-looking weapon that could best be described as a thermite-thrower. Their eyes burned with righteous fury, and small strips of parchment inscribed with wise teachings or affidavits of purity had been affixed to their armor with red wax.

All of the ARGUS members near the alley took an involuntary step backward, and a few dropped to their knees. Their commander landed and swallowed hard. He could not simply order his soldiers to open fire, a third of those well-trained ponies had received their education from Educarchy Scholas before taking up the ARGUS greatcoat. Furthermore, certain parties would care if he killed three Imparters. They were well-respected educators of tomorrow's great leaders, sworn protectors of knowledge and order, but most importantly they were well-funded by generations of grateful graduates.

Octavia patted Vinyl's metal refuge, which she had hauled into the AFV along with her cello case, and looked out through the rear hatch. From this angle, she could see little more than the way the Imparters' sconces cast huge flickering shadows of one another over the nearby buildings. Her personal experience with the Educarchy was rather limited, consisting chiefly of a renegade Professor-turned-vampire ruining the most wonderful night of her life before threatening to rape and murder her. Before that, the kind lawyer who had liquidated her parents' estate had offered to put her through one of their musical schools when she came into his care, but she had respectfully declined. In her service to the Bon Hadescream Organization, she had crossed paths with their militant division and knew they were fierce fighters, but the grey mare did not understand why their appearance had given ARGUS pause.

"Hades." Rollins, having lived in the world of shadow wars nearly his entire life, did. "We might just make it out of this alive."

She turned to look at him, surprised at his optimism. "Why?"

He grinned, and stood up from the drivers' seat. "Witnesses."

The three Imparters stepped forward. One drew her thermate-thrower, and with a quick jet of fire incinerated two vampiric corpses. The other two waved at a few of the kneeling ARGUS soldiers, who heeded their commands to form a small pile of the bullet-riddled undead. Their commander said nothing, but took note of their faces. He would have to administer discipline later. Regulations said that he should correct them now and reassert his authority, but the pegasus remembered that he had gotten this position because his predecessor was unwise enough to challenge an Educarchy Inquisitor.

The ARGUS members worked quickly, some helping to move the vampire remains while others collected the bodies of their own fallen. They folded them into their greatcoats, an ARGUS cost-cutting measure, and set the bundles in neat little rows. One of the Imparters said a few words over their departed comrades, which seemed to endear the mares even more to the edgy soldiers. Twin jets of thermate torched the pile of vampiric refuse and made a horrible mess of the pavement, but soon nothing remained of the monsters. The lead Imparter patted each of the helpful ponies, said a few kind things, and then bid them return to their formation. Then her eyes turned to their leader.

"Pardon me, gonna go get m'self killed," Rollins said as he slipped past Octavia and started out the hatch. He paused, then dropped a lid over the barrel Vinyl still lurked within and made sure it was on tight. "Don't wait up." The gryphon smiled at the three Imparters and moved to meet them just before they reached the ARGUS leader. After a few words and an animated gesture or two, each mare gave him a respectful nod. Their leader asked something, then frowned at his response, but the gryphon seemed to smooth it over with a bow of his head. As if on cue, the pegasus stormed over and blustered at them.

Rollins gasped, then took a step back as if hurt by the pegasus' words. He bowed his head again, and Octavia noticed him make an odd gesture with his tail. He caught her eye, winked, then flicked his tail again. On impulse, she pulled her cello case onto her back and trotted outside, just in time to hear the pegasus' voice rise.

"...harboring enemies of the state, and endangering civilian lives with their recklessness!" He pointed an accusatory hoof at the gryphon. "ARGUS was only conducting itself with the most noble of intentions, seeking to contain such behavior before it could spread further!"

The lead Imparter tucked a stray lock of her blond mane back with the rest, and raised an eyebrow at Rollins. "Does he speak truly? Does thine Organization harbor monsters, enemies of Her Solar Majesty, and defilers of knowledge?"

With a weary sigh, the comms officer replied, "the charge is technically valid. I myself am of unworthy blood, as you can see." It burned his tongue to say such a thing, for he was proud of his gryphon heritage, but he knew that would heal quicker than thermate burns. "As you may know, the Bon Hadescream Organization has been faced with many grave challenges, and so we have accepted those who are pure of heart but less so of body."

"The road to destruction is paved with compromise, and many are those who walk it," intoned the two Imparters who stood behind their leader.

She nodded, and narrowed her eyes. "Thy kind was sanctified by Her Solar Majesty for their service in the Great Crusade, but what others doth thy banner harbor?" Her thermate-thrower hung at her side, ready in an instant to immolate.

Rollins waved a claw at Octavia. "She is impure, and has been touched by those who abhor Her Solar Majesty's light."

The mare glanced at him in disbelief. Did he mean to sacrifice her to save his own furry tail? The lead Imparter stepped closer and glared at the grey mare. Octavia resisted the urge to step back, but could not slow the pounding of her heart.

"Victoria," Rollins said, using the name that the Bon Hadescream Organization had issued her as an alias. "Smile at the nice Imparter."

She glanced at him, then forced her lips to part and the corners of her mouth to turn up. The blonde mare reached out and turned her head from side to side, then poked her with the thermate-thrower. "She hides the taint well."

He nodded. "Her heart is pure, it was not her fault that she was touched by a minion of chaos. She was a victim who fell prey to a monster, not a spineless thrall seeking immortality." All of that was technically true.

"How certain are thou that she serves Harmony with all her heart?" The Imparter tapped the ground with a power-armored hoof. "Hatred breeds in the dark shadows of doubt."

The comms officer bowed his head again, then leaned over to Octavia. "Would you happen to know any classical pieces by great Educarchy composers?"

It was rather like asking an accountant if she could add single digit numbers. Throughout history, orchestras and choirs had always been the Educarchy's preferred form of music. An orchestra demanded many individuals reading from the same music, and a choir required all its members to sing in unity. Many of the greatest composers had been educated in Educarchy Scholas. The cellist had never attended one of those gargoyle-studded halls of learning, but she knew many of the songs performed in them by heart. Beginning to understand the gryphon's scheme, the mare blushed innocently as she took out her cello. Best to let the audience underestimate her.

Octavia started with a warm, resonating set of notes straight from Songstress Cheered Heart's Third Sonnet of Sunshine, and moved to the more grim Thunder of Wise Wings by the much acclaimed Composer-General Quicksweep. Almost losing herself in the music to the point that she forgot she was quite literally playing for her life, the grey mare shifted to the controversial but undeniably talented Immolatrix Auburn Anthem's Sound Doctrine Dispels Doubt. The symphony was intended for two cellos, but she managed to make it work by herself. Her father had always abhorred the Educarchy's music, for reasons he never bothered to explain, which made it all the sweeter to his daughter's ears.

Rollins had a secret. He liked few things more than seeing a stuck-up pony brought low by his or her own pride. Perhaps it was simply the predator in his soul, for a gryphon was half-eagle and half-lion, or perhaps it was his personal indulgence. He loved to see those with haughty thoughts and vain deeds topple like a decrepit statue. It was all the sweeter if the humbling came from a modest source. Perhaps it was simply his way of replacing the thrill of the hunt, that horror in the eyes of the prey when it knows it has been caught. It was the closest he could get, since his diet rarely ventured beyond that of a pony's. So, while the grey mare provided some wonderful music, the gryphon rarely glanced at her. His eyes were on the faces of everypony else, but he kept his own under careful control. It would not do to spoil the moment by breaking out in a sly grin, even though his body was raging with victorious endorphins.

Author's Notes:

Finally, we get to see the Educarchy in action! These girls are Imparters, members of the militant wing tasked with the extermination of all things "impure" from Celestia's domain. They're very devoted to that cause, but surprisingly vague on if Celestia ever asked them to start toting around flamethrowers and fighting monsters. Come to think of it, ARGUS doesn't have her stamp of approval either...

Yes, Rollins is getting his trollface on. I try to write him as a minion with a nametag, he has a story just like all the other operatives, his just gets a bit more screentime.

Another chapter hopefully will be out tomorrow!