Scootaloo was figuratively bouncing off the walls. In fact, in fleeting moments, she was quite literally bouncing off the walls. Her little body was bubbling over with uncontainable excited energy; she actually ached with joy. And why wouldn’t she be? She was going to be friends with a Wonderbolt! A member of the coolest flying team this side of … well, anywhere! After all, Rainbow Dash was a shoo-in for the position; everypony knew that she was the only pegasus to perform a sonic rainboom in recorded history, and she was the fastest flier around besides.

After a particularly buzzy bounce, accomplishing a brief but exhilarating moment of lift, she felt herself dragged back to the ground by a familiar pair of hooves. It was probably for the best, as a third poster of the ever-popular rainbow-maned pegasus drifted to the ground, dislodged by Scootaloo’s frantic winged bombination.

This poster joined the general detritus on the once-clean hardwood floor. The Cutie Mark Crusaders’ clubhouse was, in fact, in a state of overall disrepair. Sweetie Belle had never realized just how many little things Apple Bloom did to keep the place standing, spick and span, and not effusing a strange smell that she couldn’t find the source of and Scootaloo apparently didn’t notice. Whatever mental faculties should have allowed for remorse, however, were entirely detached from these thoughts, inhibiting her from drawing any unpleasant conclusions from this state. Besides, only one of the group still considered them to be the Cutie Mark Crusaders, as the implied goal was superfluous for the others.

“Come on, Sweetie Belle, aren’t you excited? We get to see Rainbow Dash become a Wonderbolt tomorrow!”

Sweetie Belle laughed at her friend’s antics. In spite of everything that had happened, she was still in many ways a normal filly, who just wanted to have fun with her friends, albeit with an unusual notion of fun. It was in this spirit that she had put a stop to Scootaloo’s hyperactivity, and that she asked, “Don’t you think we could do something to make Rainbow’s victory even better?”

Scootaloo’s eyes widened, her wings a blur with excitement. “And maybe get our cutie marks!”

The little psychopath grinned, playing along. “I was thinking, the sonic rainboom is awesome, but it’s also really pretty, and that’s part of why everypony loves it so much.”

Her friend just raised an eyebrow, not following.

“Well, it could be even prettier if we added something. Something special!”

“Like lightning!”

Sweetie Belle winced. It was as if the air was getting thicker around her. Deadpan, she explained, “like, uh, flowers.”

Scootaloo’s grin vanished and her expression soured in an instant. Her tone bordered on disgust. “Flowers? Awesome ponies like Rainbow Dash and me aren’t into that frilly, frou-frou, girly stuff.”

Her gleeful laughter now filling the air, Sweetie Belle poked her pegasus companion’s ribs, ruffling her feathers both metaphorical and literal. She tryied to explain the scheme without upsetting the increasingly coltish filly. “It’s not for Rainbow, silly, it’s for the audience! Imagine all the flower petals exploding out and floating over the crowd! Now that’s how you get into the Wonderbolts!”

Scootaloo pursed her lips and considered. Her nose twitched in thought. As Dash’s would-be protegé, she refused to relent entirely, but could see Sweetie Belle’s point. With a shrug and a harumph, she agreed to help. “But only,” she added, “if you’re sure this can get us our cutie marks!”

The town was furtively abuzz with anticipation of their local soon-to-be celebrity, maintaining a precarious balance between one hoof of lingering fear, and the other of excitement and much-needed distraction. It was a strange tension, and led to some peculiar behavior. Ponies stared suspiciously at each other with eyes narrowed, yet simultaneously wore wide grins that they simply couldn’t rid themselves of. In truth, whatever grief the town had been under had mostly evaporated, as grief is wont to do; it is a Celestial blessing that happiness is a natural state for ponies. And although fear was more difficult to shake from the town’s collective consciousness than grief, it was easier to balance with the pride and joy they felt for Rainbow Dash.

It was through this conflicted community that Applejack drifted, appearing a phantasm of her former self. She had a destination, she had a schedule, but she didn’t particularly care about keeping them. She didn’t care not to, either. Life to her had become a sequence of meaningless, detached activities, which she carried out by sheer force of momentum, and to avoid the blackness that plagued her whenever she didn’t keep busy.

She was one of the very few ponies who could walk through downtown Ponyville on this day without eliciting a single leer, and with bright eyes to greet her at nearly every corner. It was a small benefit in troubled times of being so well known and respected, but one she didn’t appreciate. She slid spectrally through the streets without any acknowledgment even of the very existence of others.

Her destination was the library, where she would find Twilight Sparkle, Rarity and Sweetie Belle awaiting her. She didn’t bother to knock, nor even say “hello” as she entered, simply lifting her head a few degrees more than usual as a deflated salutation.

Even by Twilight Sparkle’s standards, the library was oddly clean and organized, every book in its place and every counter and table spotless. Every pony had their own way to deal with grief.

Twilight was inappropriately cheery, or at least was presenting herself as such, when the group’s conversation met this welcomed interruption. Her usual thoughtful speech was guided by an intentional lyricism, in a hopelessly misguided attempt to keep her struggling friends’ drowning spirits above water. It seemed to be working on Rarity, or perhaps she was simply playing an act as well, for the benefit of her sister. In fact, Sweetie Belle was the only pony present whose attitude, withdrawn and visibly depressed, didn’t disgust Applejack.

“Applejack!” Twilight interrupted her quiet musing. “I’m so glad you came, maybe you’d like wings! I perfected the spell, I’m just sure they–”

Something snapped. Her detachment gone in an instant, Applejack’s neck seized in anger, her now-firey green eyes piercing through her unwitting antagonist. “Maybe y’all should focus your magic on figurin’ out who killed my sister, and not petty trash nopony cares about!”

All three unicorns retreated from Applejack’s inferno, but mercifully, it was short lived. Her head once again drooped, all the anger that had flowed so readily from her once again replaced by isolation.

“I’m sorry.” Twilight paused, unsure of both her convictions and her confidence. “I’m trying. Princess Celestia sent a guard from Canterlot to assist me, and he had some theories,” Applejack didn’t notice her sidelong glance at Sweetie Belle, “but nothing solid enough to work on. We’ll find her. Or him. Please, Applejack, believe me. I just don’t want to see everypony fall apart. Whoever she is, she’s only won if she tears apart our friendships.”

Applejack snorted indignantly. Twilight was actually overjoyed by it, as it was the only emotion she’d expressed since leaving Fluttershy’s funeral that wasn’t strictly anger or desolation. It was a slow struggle to rebalance a group in emotional turmoil, but an achievable one.

“Um, have you seen Pinkie Pie?”

“Hi, Mrs. Cake.”

Unsurprisingly, the limp blue form of the baker uttered no response, lying motionless in a sterile bed, attached to all manner of machinery. It was an odd atmosphere. There was sound all around, from ponies and from their technology, a constant and vibrant reminder of how much everypony relied on and was in the care of each other. And yet, it felt damnably lonely to Pinkie Pie. In a room, in a building, which was the very quintessence of pony compassion, she just felt alone. Then again, all of Ponyville had felt damnably lonely to Pinkie Pie for several weeks.

“I talked to the doctor today. I don’t know if he told you.” She bit her lip. Was it her place to tell this to a pony who had helped her so much through the years? A tear tickled the corner of her eye, threatening to escape, but she held it back. She didn’t want to appear weak, even though nopony could see her.

“He said you might never wake up.”

She paused, as if awaiting a response. Of course, none was forthcoming. Her eyes drifted to the window, where somepony had closed the curtains, casting a rather unpleasant green glow on the entire room. It was a familiar shade of green, one which she remembered Rarity having described as “garish” on two separate occasions.

“But he also said you might be able to hear me. And I thought, it must be really lonely, lying in this hospital room, all alone. I … I hate to be alone.”

Again she paused, but this time to adjust the position of the little tan foal that slept peacefully in her forelegs. His tan coat and brown hair actually looked quite nice in the green glow, at least to Pinkie’s less-than-discerning eye. It reminded her of one of the times Rarity had described the color as garish. The fashionista had said it was garish on her, claiming her pink coat didn’t go well with green. As always with fashion, Rarity had been right, and the whole group had paid the price. It was only by luck that they were able to remedy the situation with a bit of ingenuity by Fluttershy.

Fluttershy…

Pinkie shook her head, trying to keep the pleasant thoughts that resided there by her nature more numerous than the unpleasant ones.

“Twilight came to see you earlier. Oh, I guess if you can hear me, then you could hear her too.” Pinkie pursed her lips and furrowed her brow, pointlessly affecting an expression that nopony could appreciate anyway. “She’s not angry at you,” she recalled the unicorn’s rather violent changes of temper, “just frustrated. It’s not your fault that you can’t tell us…”

Once again the room fell silent. Pinkie hummed a small melody to the rhythm of a fading heart monitor in an adjacent room. If she’d known the nature of the device, she may not have been so blithe, but ignorance, as it is said, is bliss. Making music in these gaps helped her imagine that she wasn’t alone.

Always so alone.

“Rainbow’s going to be a Wonderbolt tomorrow.” Glancing at a clock, she corrected herself. “Today. Well, she’s going to be in the competition, but of course she’ll win. I was gonna go,” she glanced from the foal in her forelegs to the mare in bed, “but I think maybe I’d rather just stay here with you. If you don’t mind.”

Even if Mrs. Cake could hear the unusually sober mare, she hadn’t the faculties to respond.

The foal Pinkie carried twisted and yawned, awaking from its nap with a warm gurgle. For a moment, she was scared that his new environment might startle him, but instead he looked around with wonderment, his wings flapping lazily.

“I brought Pound to see you. Say ‘momma,’ Pound. Say ‘momma!’”

“Mom–ma.”

It felt good to smile again.

“I guess we’ll have to go on without her,” Twilight sighed. She hated to leave Pinkie Pie out of things, but the it had been difficult to predict anypony’s behavior of late. “Is everypony ready?”

The group agreed unenthusiastically. There were fewer than Twilight had expected, or perhaps just fewer than she was accustomed to. This only made her task easier, however. She looked over the group, making sure nopony was missed or unaccounted for. Applejack looked unenthusiastic but prepared, idly playing with the bow in her hair. Rarity stood with exaggerated posture and poise, occasionally glancing at her sister. Sweetie Belle herself looked downright terrified, shivering slightly with her head in her hooves. She was also wearing saddlebags, with the green threading of their lining nearly bursting from whatever was inside. Twilight took note of the bags only because it would slightly affect the effectiveness of her spell; the filly’s attitude she noticed because it brought to mind another pony who had reacted similarly to the exact same spell.

“Ah just know my lot in life, that’s all. Earth ponies are supposed t’ keep their hooves on the earth.” That had been Applejack’s response, after no small deal of pressing the issue, when this spell was first used. The Applejack that stood before her now didn’t react that way to anything. This Applejack was like the discarded feathers from a molting pegasus, the detritus of her former self.

Twilight lamented being too busy, and frankly, not qualified, to better help her friends through this. But, putting this distraction on her mental checklist of problems to deal with later, she returned to the task at hoof. With only a modicum of focus required for this spell on so few ponies, she didn’t even bother to announce that it was beginning. With a quick flash of red-magenta light, the spell was finished almost as soon as it had started. She grinned artificially at her friends, whose appreciation, if present, was hidden.

A few seconds passed as her grin vanished.

“S-s-somepony’s gonna tell me when it’s over, r-right?”

Twilight and Rarity shared a knowing smile. An honest smile was a rare thing, and that fact only intensified the brief shared happiness. Twilight nudged Sweetie Belle with a hoof, causing the poor filly to jump to her hooves.

“It’s over, Sweetie Belle. Sorry to frighten you.”

“Really,” Rarity interjected, “a unicorn afraid of a little magic? We’ll have to work on that, Sweetie Belle.”

Not allowing one of the oldest sibling feuds in Ponyville once again spill over as it so frequently did, Twilight reintroduced the group to reality. “Well, let’s go! The balloon’s waiting out back. Oh, and so is Scootaloo.”

Sweetie Belle perked up at the opportunity to get out of the cramped library and have fun with her friend once more.

As the group shuffled out, they were all slightly startled to hear Applejack speak up once again. “Ah’ll meet y’all there in a minute.” Her ears were back, her lips twisted into a strange pursed grimace. “There’s somethin’ Ah’ve gotta take care of first.”

Rainbow Dash was, appropriately enough, in training. She had convinced herself that napping on a slowly-drifting cloud, staring listlessly into the stratosphere, was a form of training. After all, a pegasus needs to not merely to use the sky, but to know the sky. That’s what she always used to tell Fluttershy when trying to convince the timid creature to fly, anyway.

Her head tilted from the sky and to her side, where a yellow wing sat, appearing more lazy than she recalled it from before. In reality, of course, it was decaying, wilting under its own necrotic weight. Some time the next day, she expected, she would find it once again in perfect condition, like a ripe fruit freshly plucked from its tree. She was fully aware of Twilight’s little spell that kept the artifact unnaturally preserved, and Twilight probably knew that she was. But neither would say anything. It was all she had left.

“I wish you could be there to cheer me on, Fluttershy. I’ll try to make sure it’s awesome anyway. I promise.”

The wing was an unexciting conversationalist, being moderately more reticent even than its former master.

“Dash? Y’all up there?”

She recognized the voice instantly, of course, and tried to be as happy to hear it as she usually was. Happiness wasn’t so forthcoming, but she could act the role.

“Hey AJ!” It came out artificial sounding but not unpleasant, as she plummeted with all the grace of a boulder to the ground, beside her friend. “What’s up?”

Applejack had been so reclusive lately, it seemed as if she was trying to separate herself from her friends and memories, to bury herself in drudgery and avoid dealing with anypony but herself. The two were similar in many ways, and had been dragged through the same series of tragedies, but while Rainbow had by luck and force of friendship found a compelling distraction, Applejack had nothing but her own thoughts to dwell on. The pegasus’ attempts to help lift her friend’s spirits had all been rather dramatically unsuccessful, and as such, she just wasn’t sure what to expect.

She certainly wasn’t expecting the tight, friendly embrace she received.

“Ah just wanna thank ya, Dash.”

She was too stunned by the sudden show of compassion to respond.

“Ah don’t think ya understand how much Ah need this. How much we all need this.”

“Um,” Dash just stammered.

“Do Ponyville proud, Dash. She needs a hero.”

With another squeeze, Applejack pulled away from the embrace, whatever sentimental spirit had inhabited her flitting away as quickly as it had appeared. For a moment she just gazed piercingly into Rainbow’s eyes, as if judging the other’s intentions and merit. Rainbow’s wings twitched and jerked, as if they’d been slept on at an odd angle; this moment of stress was only exacerbating the strain from her less-than-strenuous training regimine. As much as she loved crowds, performing was easier with less judgment.

The glare didn’t last long, as the life drained once again from Applejack’s eyes. She turned and walked slowly away without another word.

Rainbow put a hoof to her head. “No pressure, Rainbow Dash.”

Although she would never admit it, Scootaloo was becoming excited about Sweetie Belle’s little scheme. She imagined the undeniably cool rainbow explosion that was the natural result of the sonic rainboom, and acknowledged privately that adding another explosion, one of bright and colorful flower petals, was at least kind of cool. And besides, nothing could dampen Rainbow Dash’s never-ending coolness.

The basket of the hot air balloon, which Twilight seemed to draw from nowhere whenever non-pegasus flight or an enormous bit of violet scenery were necessary, was not really intended to comfortably occupy all four mares and three fillies that currently resided in it, but it still provided enough room for the Cutie Mark Crusaders to talk in relative private. Scootaloo looked over the side, her eyes darting from cloud to cloud and her stubby wings flapping uncontrollably. Apple Bloom kept begging her sister to let her climb up on the older mare’s back for a better view, but Applejack would have none of it. Twilight and Rarity just laughed at this display, at least until Pinkie Pie, ever frolicsome, tried climbing onto their backs, claiming between giggles that she also wanted a better view. Sweetie Belle was less enamored with the height, preferring to position herself such that she could only see the sky above them, and not below.

Finally convinced that she wouldn’t get the pony ride she was hoping for, Apple Bloom joined her two fillyhood friends again.

“So,” she whispered excitedly, “did ya get the flowers ready?”

“Yeah, did you?”

Sweetie Belle’s head tilted in confusion. “Um, did I what?”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes overdramatically. Sometimes Sweetie Belle just didn’t seem to pay attention.

“Did you get the flowers ready?” she asked with a slight twang of umbrage.

The filly unicorn beamed, an easy task with her bright white coat. She opened her saddlebag and let her companions peek inside. Exactly as Scootaloo expected, there were dozens, perhaps hundreds, of rose petals. They were in every color of the rainbow and then some, and even seemed to gleam in the sun. Impulsively and before Sweetie Belle could react, she reached into the bag, hoping to examine the beautiful tidbits in closer detail. She received a nasty prick to the side of her leg for her troubles.

Putting the wound to her mouth instinctively, she found the bitter taste of blood. “Ouch!” she hissed, “Didn’t you remember to take out the thorns?!”

Even though the balloon had left Ponyville much earlier than Rainbow Dash, it was arriving at its destination much later. Although Twilight’s magic could keep the otherwise aimless device on course, speed was not its forte.

The cloud coliseum looked strange. It was barren, with its many rows of vaulted clouds almost entirely vacant. The whole construction was such a perfect milky white, the only way in which it usually distinguished itself from the surrounding sky was the presence of ponies, so in this state it looked less like a coliseum than simply an unusually large cloud. Still, Twilight knew the area well, and navigated effortlessly to a suitable disembarkment platform.

“Twilight, dear, are you quite sure this is the right place?” Rarity scanned carefully, trying to catch a glimpse of anything recognizable. Clouds being ever ephemeral by nature, it was unlikely that she would be able to match any details to her foggy recollection, so everything seemed strange and foreign. “Shouldn’t there be a crowd?”

“Rarity,” Twilight chuckled, “this is a private competition. Only judges, competitors, friends and family members are allowed.”

“Actually,” she admitted with a poorly concealed blush, “I had to pull some strings just to get all of you in.”

The group trotted together into the coliseum, its sheer unused size becoming a bit overwhelming. With no guard rails and little in the way of walking paths, it wasn’t especially well suited to flightless ponies, so after entering, Rarity turned to make sure that her sister was keeping pace.

She gasped dramatically. “Sweetie Belle! Sweetie Belle, where are you?! Girls, the fillies–”

“Are you sure you know how to do this, Scootaloo?”

“Sure, I’ve seen Applejack and Apple Bloom do it plenty of times!”

She swung the length of pilfered rope in circles around her head, with one eye closed to concentrate her aim. She looked like she was about to fall over, which did little to instill Sweetie Belle’s confidence.

With a mighty heave, she threw the lasso far into the air, and perfectly snagged a cloud, which had previously been placed by Rainbow Dash. Even she hadn’t expected to do so well, so she looked more shocked than boastful.

“Wow! That was so cool!”

Together, they dragged down the cloud, and put their plan into motion. It was a simple and relatively fast process, and one which Sweetie Belle convinced Scootaloo to allow her to do alone. There was no need, after all, to risk further hurting her friend. Finishing quickly, the pair returned the cloud it to its original location by a very similar feat of filly talent.

Everything had been put away and hidden when the others found the pair.

“Sweetie Belle!” Rarity’s voice carried relief and anger in equal quantities, “Don’t you ever scare us like that again! I thought you’d fallen!”

“Sorry, Rarity.” Even as she bowed her head in simulated shame, she and Scootaloo shared a knowing glance. This was going to be a fun day.

Rarity let the matter drop, and the whole group decided that their current spot, in one of the highest rungs of the coliseum, was a perfect vantage point for Rainbow’s stunt. They settled in to watch the others compete, wordlessly as none were in the mood for conversation.

“An announcement, everypony,” Spitfire hollered through a bullhorn. Nopony had noticed her entry, which is an impressive stunt on its own given that her mane lived up to her name. “Due to, err, unforeseen circumstances–”

Soarin’ pushed her aside, interjecting his own spin. “Due to unforeseen Rainbow Dash!”

Shoving the impetuous lower-ranking Wonderbolt away from the horn, Spitfire continued her original explanation. “Due to unforeseen circumstances, there will be only two competitors, so this will be a very quick selection process, and as you can see, is a very small crowd. Competitor number one, you’re up!”

The group watched lackadaisically as an amber pegasus took to the skies. She was fast, she was daring, and she displayed an extremely impressive talent for sculpting clouds in a whirlwind of energy and precision. The fact that she brought out from one unwitting cumulus a bust of Rainbow Dash spoke volumes about her confidence in winning, or lack thereof, but it was an impressive display nonetheless.

When her little floating sculpture garden was complete, she halted midair, bowed politely to the tiny assemblage, and then flew right into the midst of them.

“Hi, I’m Nimbushapes, but my friends just call me Nimbus.” She spoke with a high, lilting voice that made her bubbly personality almost infectious. “You must be Rainbow Dash’s friends!”

“Oh, yes,” Twilight began, “I’m–”

“Twilight Sparkle! Not too many lavender unicorns who can walk on clouds, you’re bound to make a reputation that way!” She giggled as Twilight’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and humility.

“Well. That was a very impressive performance, Nimbus. I particularly–”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” She put a hoof in the air, dismissively. Twilight would have been frustrated by the constant interruption if not for the undiluted mirth that seemed to emanate from the jubilant pegasus. “I only entered because I needed an excuse to see Rainbow Dash compete! I keep hearing about her sonic rainboom, but I’ve never seen one! I’m so excited!”

To emphasize, she ran circles around the group with her forelegs spread wide in imitation of wings. It was a rather silly imitation, considering the fact that she had real wings to work with, but apparently that notion had flown away from her a long time ago, along with the rest of her common sense. After gaining considerable speed, she leapt into the air with a dramatic yell of “boom!” and spread her legs and wings wide to show a simulated explosion. She span as she fell back to the cloud below. By the time she sprung back to her feet, she’d drawn a small monochrome rainbow in the cloud canvas.

Twilight, Rarity and even Applejack were beginning to get a bit dizzy from the Pinkie-Pie-esque behavior dancing over their heads, and so were glad to be pulled away from this display by the announcement they’d been waiting for.

“Rainb– err, competitor number two. You’re up!”

The routine was simple. Heck, it wasn’t even a routine. She was just going to perform a sonic rainboom, do a flyover for emphasis and show, then land dramatically and accept her nomination into the Wonderbolts. What more could be necessary? Even in the light of everything else that had happened, this, she was sure, would be the greatest day in her life.

Although she’d performed this stunt several times, it still required intense concentration. Usually this was an annoyance, but for this competition, at this time, and with her friends cheering just a tiny bit less loudly than they would have been under different circumstances, being able to concentrate and block out the world was a relief.

With a rainbow-trailed burst, she bolted into the sky, flying fast enough that even the mere act of ascent would have dazzled the crowd, had there been any. With powerful thrusts of her wings, she pushed herself until the air was thin and cold, and the coliseum a speck of cloud floating lazily in the distance. And she stopped, hovering in the air.

It was peaceful. But it was lonely.

Now the real show began. With the same force, the same exertion, she pushed herself with gravity, plummeting towards the distant earth. As her destination became closer, she made some final gut judgments of her speed and timing, before the wind robbed her of her sight. She pushed shut her eyes, both to block the sting of the passing air and to avoid any damage when she hit the cloud that served as her rainboom marker. Her timing was perfect, her descent now solely in the hands of gravity, so all that was left for her was to enjoy the incredible rush of wind and sensation of freefall. No matter the circumstance, this moment was perfection. Flight was her only true bliss.

As her nose hit the cloud, she felt a familiar sensation of cold moisture, the feeling of a normally-solid puff giving way to her superior will. But something was amiss. The feeling was more poignant than usual, sharper and more precise. And although time usually slowed its fervent pace for her during these stunts, it was particularly slow during this one. The strange feeling continued, and in fact only went deeper, leaving her nose and soon her sinuses, and adding a new, sharp sensation to the back of her throat. She cracked open an eye for just long enough to catch a glimpse of gleaming silver, before that sight was replaced by a now-familiar feeling in that eye.

For the briefest fraction of a second, there was fear. Just a small inkling of concern, a trepidation over this new experience. It had no opportunity to evolve into the terror it should have been. As the sensation pushed back further, getting lost somewhere behind her eye sockets, she found that that moment of mild fear was gone, and all sensation was replaced with euphoria. Time sped slightly, no longer crawling, as the cold, sharp feelings grew in number. One in a hoof, then in her chest, then at her side, her neck, her shoulder, her hip. The chill in her spine that usually accompanied these feats was amended by this new chill, and it was exciting. It was exhilarating. This was her moment, this was her day, nothing else mattered, she would be successful, she would be a Wonderbolt.

The cone of gust around her snout tightened.

It smelled like rust, but the rust was joy.

Her cheeks felt wet and sticky.

It didn’t matter. This moment was ecstasy.

There was a burst.

The name “Rainbow Dash” would always be known, the only pegasus in history to perform a sonic rainboom.

Pinkie Pie woke from a restless sleep at the yelp of an innocent foal. She’d bumped it slightly with her right hind leg, twitching in her slumber.

“No … no no no …”

Her left ear twitched with it.

“No! No no no no no!”

Pound squealed in delight as Pinkie veritably threw him into his saddlebag foal carrier. He was a pegasus after all, and pegasi usually loved speed. She ignored the sudden strain, and made no goodbyes, jumping to her hooves.

Then her tail twisted of its own accord. She fought to keep it untangled.

“Nononononononono!”

She bolted from the hospital room. A nurse, with the pile of papers he had been carrying, were knocked to the floor, but she ignored him. She could barely run. The twitching was so strong, she was effectively limping on three legs while dragging the fourth.

She knew this combo well, but knew equally well that there was nothing she could do about it.

“Rainbow Dash!”

“Wooooooooooooooooooooow!”

Nimbus was beside herself with jubilance, bumping into the Ponyville ponies as she zipped between them, hollering. Her gaiety was as infectious as her bubbliness, and the whole group was in improved spirits. They listened and watched in awe as the booming explosion of the trick, emphasized by the slight puff of a disappearing cloud, was followed by a ring of rainbow, spreading at the speed of sound.

Then there was a second ring. This one of a single color, a bright red that shone against the sunlight. It spread much more slowly, forming a mist that gradually fell as it expanded, like a colorful rain. It took several seconds to reach the group, bathing them in now-pink Celestial light that danced with the tumultuous flow of the mist above. It crawled through the air towards them, while everypony still just enjoyed the impressive show. None noticed that Dash’s trademark rainbow arc hadn’t followed the initial burst, too distracted by this new and fascinating addition.

Finally, the mist sank to the level of the clouds, lightly coating them in the pigment. Every pony present was dyed a reddish shade of their natural color, creating a pink Rarity and Sweetie Belle and an umber Applejack and Scootaloo. Twilight and Rarity stared at each other, the fact that something was desperately wrong slowly dawning on them. Nimbus and Scootaloo were collectively being too overjoyed to notice the increasingly-worried expressions around them, as the older pegasus spun her excited younger compatriot by the forelegs, shouting “Rainbow Dash!” repeatedly and in unison. Sweetie Belle stood near them, but affected a neutral expression, more of confusion than anything else.

Applejack was the first to realize the truth. She hadn’t worn more than a small smile before, and that faded into an agape glare at her own forehoof, now understanding exactly what it was covered in.

“Rainbow…”

The second to see the truth was Twilight. She unthinkingly glanced to the fillies. One seemed inappropriately happy. This was bad, she thought. Very bad. Very, very bad. And it was her fault. How could she have not seen it? How can she have not believed?

The third to see the truth was a new visitor, who swooped in with bravado. His stern expression as he cast a quick glance over the group was an odd complement to his bright blue coat, pink mane and silver armor, which bore the regal crest of Princess Celestia. After summing up the situation, he glared at Twilight Sparkle.

She knew what he was asking. She knew what he would say. She didn’t want to hear it. All she did was nod.

He nodded in return, then cleared his throat and spoke in a commanding baritone. “By the power vested in me by their Royal Highnesses, Princesses Celestia and Luna, I place you in the custody of the Equestrian Punitive Council. You are hereby under arrest.”

Scootaloo barely reacted as he pulled her away from her new comrade, then dragged her into the air and towards Canterlot. It was obvious that she had no idea what was going on, and even seemed to be enjoying herself.

Everypony else stared at Twilight.

“I– I refused to believe him. I refused to believe him. And because of me, Rainbow Dash…”

The carnage was indescribable. A cyan foreleg swung pendularly from a tree branch, tangled dangling tendons preventing it from falling to the ground. It left a line of blood droplets in the dirt below, which just served to highlight the butchery there. A bit of ribcage stuck out where it had hit the ground at terminal velocity, the once-solid organs behind it spilling through in a purplish goo. Teeth were visible dotting the landscape for yards around. Some bits of cyan and red had a clear source, but no clear description, having been so severely pulverized that all that remained was puddles of pureed meat with the consistency of porridge.

The mostly-intact right half of Rainbow’s face and skull had landed on its side, exposing her final expression to the agast ponies unlucky enough to be its witness. Twilight was sitting over it, having been staring at it inanimately for minutes. It was smiling. Perhaps even smirking. Even in this state, it was undeniably, unquestionably, Rainbow Dash.

The phrase “she died doing what she loved” floated to Twilight’s mind. It did little to comfort her.

Rarity had dragged a seemingly confused and terrified Sweetie Belle some distance away, and was trying to wait out the others as she and her sister shared in each others’ tears.

In the center of all this, surrounded by mutilation, Applejack lay prone. In her mouth was the end of what remained of Rainbow’s tail. She tugged at it languidly, feeling how little resistance there was.

She wanted to cry. She didn’t know how any more.

Author's note: This chapter is subtitled, "In Which Clavier Needs 5,000 Words To Remember That This Was Supposed To Be a Gorefic"