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When the Curtain Falls

by JohnPerry

Chapter 5: Mastermind

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Sharp Eye awoke slowly, her eyes fluttering open to behold the ceiling of her hotel room, softly illuminated by the morning sunlight. She sighed contently and glanced to her side to find the distinct lack of somepony else in her bed. She blinked a few times, a part of her daring to hope that doing so would reveal a different sight, but the gap in the bedsheets remained as empty as ever.

There was a sudden knock at her door, and Sharp Eye bolted upright, hurriedly looking over at a mirror on a nearby dresser to see a disheveled mess of a mare staring back at her. She leapt out of bed and snatched a brush off the dresser, quickly running it over her mane and coat until it began to resemble something respectable. Satisfied, she dropped the brush back on the dresser and ran over to the door.

Her expression softened when she opened it to see Watt Sun standing in the hallway, holding a tray with a bagel and a cup of coffee sitting upon it. “Good morning!” he said in a cheery tone. “I thought I’d bring you up some breakfast.”

“Aw, you’re sweet,” Sharp Eye cooed, taking the tray in one hoof as she leaned closer and pressed her lips against Watt Sun’s. The stallion’s eyes widened considerably and a fierce blush reddened his cheeks. He remained standing stock-still in the doorway even as Sharp Eye pulled away and took the tray with her back into the room.

“Uh... you seem... cheerful this morning,” Watt Sun remarked, slowly recovering as he walked into the room.

Sharp Eye giggled. “Well, why wouldn’t I be?” she said, waggling her eyebrows at the stallion.

Watt Sun had a blank look on his face. “...I guess I don’t know,” he replied with a lopsided grin.

The mare gave him a puzzled look for a second before shrugging it off and turning to her tray, taking a huge bite out of the bagel. The sight of food made her realize just how ravenous she felt.

“So...” Watt Sun began, “not to sound like I’m prying, but where did you go last night? I got your message but when I got to the Neighpollo I couldn’t find you.”

Sharp Eye paused, turning around to face Watt Sun. After a moment of awkward silence she began to laugh, but quickly stopped when the stallion didn’t join her. “...I don’t get the joke.”

“No joke. I mean, I was just curious is all,” he quickly added. “I would have called you, but I seemed to have misplaced my communicator—”

“Watt Sun... you were with me. You took me to that underwater show, remember? And then you and I came back here.”

The stallion was looking thoroughly confused by this point. “No, I most definitely was by myself last night. In fact, I think I still have the ticket stub.” He reached up to pull off his bowler hat and looked under the inner flap before pulling out a small white slip of paper and hoofing it to Sharp Eye.

She took it and read the name of a show printed on it, along with yesterday’s date and a time roughly around when she had met Watt Sun last night before he had taken her to the Coltacobana. A hole had been punched through one side of the ticket.

A feeling of queasiness overcame Sharp Eye as the single bite of bagel she had taken suddenly felt very heavy in her stomach.


“Bleegh... I don’t know how you stomach this every morning, Vinyl.” Octavia was grimacing at the cup of coffee in her hooves.

“I don’t know how you survive without it,” the DJ responded, taking a sip from her own mug.

The two were sitting in the lounge of Pinkieton headquarters, looking at case documents over breakfast. Octavia was slumped over the table, once again suffering from a sleepless night. Her eyes were bloodshot and the circles under her eyes were becoming quite prominent. She was leaning her head against one of her forehooves, which was placed with the elbow on the table. She gazed down at New Wave’s opened diary in front of her, reading the same paragraph over and over again without really absorbing it:

...not see what I’m trying to do here? He has the gall to deny my story! Are these critics blind to the legions of ponies who are touched by my work? They would fault my art for technical mishaps and fail to see its true intent! And meanwhile Curtain Call grows more distant with me... I dare say she seems to think herself equal to me at times. Why, today she had the nerve to correct me! Me, the one who brought her to where she is now! This filly grows more interested in playing with her illusions than helping me create true art! The entire world clamours for mindless drivel and I am left alone...

Octavia was snapped out of her stupor when she heard the bookcase slide open and suddenly the sound of arguing reached her ears.

“Look, I’m sorry! I didn’t even do anything!” Watt Sun cried as he followed Sharp Eye into the room.

“That’s the point,” Sharp Eye growled, not looking back at the stallion. “You didn’t do anything. You never do anything.”

Octavia and Vinyl gave each other a quick glance as Sharp Eye sat down at the table with a grunt. “Uh... are you two okay? What happened?” the DJ asked.

What happened?!” Sharp Eye yelled, startling Octavia and Vinyl. “Apparently, I just made out with a projection, that’s what happened!”


“...And he never makes the first move, he’s always waiting for me to start anything! It’s almost like he’s scared to make the first move, you know what I mean?” Sharp Eye said.

“You said it, sister,” Vinyl replied in a dull monotone.

The two ponies were trotting through a backstage prior to a themerse show. All around them, ponies bustled about readying the set, getting everything into place, practicing their lines, or giving direction to the actors and crew. Vinyl and Sharp Eye were here to watch the proceedings and keep an eye out for anything strange.

Following the discovery that the Pinkietons had been infiltrated, presumably by their suspect, Octavia had insisted upon keeping their case documentation close by for fear that it wouldn’t be safe at the hotel. Which was why both Vinyl and Sharp Eye were wearing saddlebags laden with police documents and case files, in addition to their normal detective tools.

Octavia and Vinyl also quickly decided on separating Watt Sun and Sharp Eye for the time being. To Vinyl’s dismay, she had gotten stuck with Sharp Eye, who proved to be eager to talk at length about the state of affairs between her and Watt Sun. After far more relationship talk than Vinyl could stomach, the DJ cast a spell to fill her ears with some familiar music while Sharp Eye rambled on, apparently oblivious to the subtle blue glow of Vinyl’s horn. Each time the DJ noticed Sharp Eye’s mouth not moving, she responded with an automatic “Yep,” “Mmm-hmm,” or “You said it.”

So it was to Vinyl’s shock when she noticed Sharp Eye stop in her tracks and begin to wail loudly, tears streaming from her eyes. The DJ stopped casting her spell and looked at Sharp Eye in confusion.

“Oh, you’re right!” Sharp Eye bawled. “I bet Watt Sun doesn’t even think of me that way! Oh, how could I be so stupid?!”

“Wait, what?” Vinyl said. “N-No, I didn’t say... err, that is, uh, what was the question again?” She was becoming uncomfortably aware of the many stage ponies around them now watching them.

Sharp Eye ran a hoof over her tear-stained face. “I (sniff) asked if you thought Watt Sun doesn’t really love me, (sniff) and you said yes!”

“Wow,” Vinyl heard one of the stage ponies mutter. “That is cold.”

“I didn’t say that!” Vinyl retorted, her face flushed with embarrassment. “I just, uh, misheard what you said! I’m sure he, uh, really likes you?” Vinyl found herself envying Octavia. Surely whatever she was going through couldn’t be worse than this.


Octavia found herself envying Vinyl. Surely whatever she was going through couldn’t be worse than this.

“I don’t know, maybe Sharp Eye is right,” Watt Sun murmured, looking down at his hooves. “I mean, I was just outdone by an illusion of me. Maybe I don’t do enough for Sharp Eye... maybe I don’t deserve her.”

Octavia fought a powerful urge to groan and roll her eyes. “Look, Watt Sun, I may not know much about relationships, but if you’re really worried about this, why don’t you just treat Sharp Eye to something nice? Something couples would do, like a nice dinner or a moonlit stroll.” She paused for a moment, then added, “Couples do those things, right?”

“Do they?” Watt Sun asked, his tone utterly sincere. He and Octavia shared an awkward look before Octavia corrected herself.

“I mean, yes. Yes, they do,” she said quickly. “So, just... um, be a little more forward around her. A little self-confidence never harmed anypony! It certainly couldn’t hurt to try, right?” she added with an encouraging smile.

Watt Sun looked unsure. “Uh, I’m not sure... could it?”

Octavia only narrowly resisted the temptation to slam her forehoof into her forehead. ‘It’s like the blind leading the blind,’ she thought. ‘How do I keep getting wrapped up in this nonsense?

Around them, stage ponies were assembling a set piece-by-piece, preparing for a performance tonight. Octavia noticed that many of them looked tense, speaking in hushed tones and constantly on the alert. Word of the “Phantom of the ‘Merse” had spread quickly through the themerse world. The cellist felt her sheathed bow resting against her back, hoping that the sight of a weapon would ease the stage ponies’ fears. But it seemed to serve only to remind everypony of the danger, given the sideways glances they gave the two Pinkietons.

Watt Sun glanced down at a saddlebag hanging on Octavia’s side, which contained New Wave’s diary as well as a folder of case files. “This incident last night worries me... This mare has killed New Wave, Curtain Call, and tried to kill Hitchcolt. Why is she interested in Sharp Eye now?”

“I wish I knew. My best guess is that our suspect is trying to scare us off,” Octavia muttered. “Be on the lookout, and ready for anything.”

“Alright everypony, places!” hollered a stallion trotting out to the middle of the stage. He was wearing a beret, spoke in a loud, commanding voice, and occasionally clapped his forehooves sharply to accentuate his speech. “We need more practice on Scene 23; the atmosphere needs more work.”

Octavia stifled a yawn and turned to Watt Sun. “So who is this pony? I’m afraid I’m starting to lose track of all these directors.”

“He’s Stage Craft,” Watt Sun whispered back. “He worked with New Wave and Curtain Call, although I’m afraid he has nothing to do with Hitchcolt, as far as I can tell.”

Octavia sighed. “Well, it’s better than nothing, I suppose.”

“Are we ready?” Stage Craft yelled as the stage ponies hurriedly took up positions on the edge of the set and the actors assumed their places on stage. The director sat down in a chair in the front row of seats. “Lights!” At his command, the unicorns cast a spell on the stage lights hanging from the ceiling, maneuvering them to focus on the actors on stage. “Set? And... ACT—”

Suddenly, every single light in the theater went out, plunging the stage into darkness. There were a few surprised shouts and groans from the ponies on set as Octavia instinctively reached for the handle of her bow. “Get some light on the stage!” Stage Craft’s voice yelled out amidst the clatter of somepony dropping something.

The glow of several unicorn horns slowly flickered into life, bathing the set in soft light. The stage ponies looked around hurriedly, checking for anything out of place. “Somepony check the fuse boxes!” one of them shouted out.

“Wait, where’s Stage Craft?!” another yelped. Everypony instantly turned towards the seats below the stage, finding nopony in the chair where the director had been sitting just a moment before.

Just then, a high-pitched scream came from overhead. Everypony in the room looked up only for their blood to run cold at what they saw: Stage Craft was dangling from a catwalk high above the stage, clutching the edge of a light stand with his forehooves. Standing above him was the cloaked figure of a mare wearing a dark mask over the top half of her face.

“It’s the Phantom!” a couple of the stage ponies yelped, pointing up at her.

Help me!” the director squealed, looking fearfully down at the stage beneath him as his grip on the catwalk seemed to loosen. Octavia was already racing for the spot below Stage Craft as she watched the Phantom rear on her hind legs and slam down on the director’s forehooves, causing his grip to fail. Time seemed to slow down as Stage Craft fell through the air, flailing in panic as Octavia leapt off the stage, extending her forehooves to catch him before he hit the ground...

But just as she reached up to catch Stage Craft, her hooves closed around him to feel nothing but empty air. The stallion passed through her, as if incorporeal, before vanishing entirely in a puff of smoke. Caught by surprise, Octavia failed to recover mid-leap and landed head-first on the stage, slamming into the floor with enough force to knock her saddlebags off and spill their contents across the stage.

“There!” somepony shouted. Octavia stumbled to her hooves to see one of the stage ponies gesturing out at the rows of seats, where the cloaked figure was standing at the edge of the unicorns’ light, dragging a passed-out Stage Craft with a white cloth pressed over his face.

Immediately, everypony on the stage dashed down into the seats, racing at the Phantom. The cloaked figure looked up to see at least a dozen ponies running at her. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before dropping Stage Craft on the floor and rearing up on her hind hooves. With a flourish, she whipped her cloak around her and vanished in a sudden burst of light and a cloud of smoke, only for no less than six copies of her to reappear around the room in a flash of magic.

Chaos took hold in the theater as everypony made a mad scramble to catch one of the Phantoms in the theater. The light of the unicorns’ horns flashed around as Octavia drew her bow-sword out, carefully following the movements of the nearest Phantom. Just as it came close enough, she leapt off the stage at the cloaked figure, who turned around just in time to see Octavia’s sword slicing through the air straight at her. However, the bow passed effortlessly through the Phantom, which vanished in another puff of smoke.

Undeterred, the cellist leapt over the first row of seats, clenching the handle of her bow between her teeth. She jumped over one row after another, landing gracefully atop seat backs as she tracked down another Phantom. Her attention was focused on one facing down three different stage ponies who were trying to charge it, but were holding back due to the gleaming knife the masked mare was brandishing between her teeth. Just as the Phantom lunged at one of the stage ponies, Octavia leapt in front of her and swung her sword before it could react. It vanished in another puff of smoke as the stage ponies watched on in stunned shock.

“Octavia!” Watt Sun yelled out. The cellist turned to see him standing a few rows over, gesturing frantically at the stage. She looked over to spot another Phantom standing on the stage, unnoticed by the ponies who had rushed down to confront the doppelgangers in the seats. To Octavia’s alarm, the figure on stage was gazing down at the documents spilled out on the stage, showing particular interest in a book the cellist recognized as New Wave’s diary.

Stop right there!” Octavia bellowed, sheathing her sword before she and Watt Sun rushed at the stage. The Phantom looked up and, after a moment’s hesitation, snatched the book up in her mouth before turning tail and bolting for the edge of the stage, with the two Pinkietons in pursuit. Out of the corner of her eye, Octavia noticed the other Phantoms vanish and the stage lights abruptly turn back on the moment the real one dashed out of the theater and whip around the corner. Octavia followed it into a hallway past the theater, with Watt Sun hot on her heels.

Ahead of her, the Phantom plowed through an exit door at the end of the hallway. The door had almost come to a close when Octavia slammed through it, finding herself in a dark alleyway outside the theater. The sound of galloping hooves alerted her to the Phantom racing away, towards the bustling street at the end of the alley. Octavia wasted no time continuing the chase.

The masked mare turned around the corner and ran out onto the busy sidewalk, narrowly avoiding bowling over several ponies walking past. Octavia galloped out after her, darting through the crowd of figures packing the sidewalk. Ahead of her, ponies were stopping in their tracks and turning to stare at the cloaked figure running past them, clearing a path for Octavia. She didn’t let the Phantom leave her sight, watching for any indication of the villain trying to slip away while projecting an illusion or vanish into another cloud of smoke.

The Phantom glanced back to see Octavia gaining on her, then made a beeline for a nearby subway entrance facing the sidewalk, leaping down the staircase into the depths below. The cellist ran after her, taking the steps three at a time as ponies coming the other way hurriedly pressed against the walls to avoid getting trampled.

They raced through the corridor, heading straight towards a set of chest-high turnstiles which were supposed to stop ponies from getting into the subway without paying. The Phantom leapt atop one of the fare machines separating the gates, galloping across the surface with a loud clatter before jumping off the other side. A security officer ran out of his booth to shout at this strange fare dodger only to nearly get run over as Octavia raced past him and mimicked the Phantom, clearing the turnstiles in a single bound. She turned on her hooves to see the Phantom disappear around a corner, past a sign labeled with the words “Trains to Downtown and Bronclyn” underneath a set of colorful circles with letters and numbers in them.

Octavia followed, running down another staircase towards the platform. The Phantom wasn’t in her sight until she reached the bottom of the stairs and looked across to see the cloaked figure push her way into a crowded train. The cellist ran for the train just as an announcement was piped in through the speakers: “Stand clear of the closing doors, please” followed by a chime. Octavia galloped faster as the doors began to slide close. She was almost there. She made a leap for the closing gap between the doors...

Yes! Success! She sailed through the doorway, bracing for the impact against the floor and perhaps a couple of passengers.

But the impact never came. Rather than landing on the floor, she continued through it unabated as the subway car and all its passengers dissolved into smoke around her. Octavia yelped as she plunged into the dark depths below, landing painfully on the hard concrete between the tracks.

She heard shouts on the platform and the screech of an approaching train. The impulse to flee took hold and she reached out a hoof through the smoke still dissolving around her. Suddenly, a powerful shock ran through her body and she cried out in anguish, quickly withdrawing her hoof. The smoke cleared to reveal what Octavia had just touched: the third rail, still sparking with electricity.

She felt her limbs go numb and she collapsed in the track bed, looking up to see the headlights of an approaching train grow brighter. The squeal of the train’s wheels filled her ears as she struggled to lift herself to her hooves, hoping against hope that this was an illusion too.

Just as the train was almost upon her, she sensed something collide into her, shoving her out of the way of the train and carrying her over the third rail and into the adjacent track bed. A scream of pain could barely be made out over the screech and clatter of the train rushing past before it finally squealed to a halt. Octavia lay on the ground, looking up at the side of the train and heaving a sigh of relief at the realization that she was safe. In her current state, she couldn’t feel her limbs, which she was grateful for given the rough landing.

She looked over to see Watt Sun laying beside her, breathing hard as tears streamed down his face. His teeth were gritted and he was clenching his muscles. He glanced up, giving Octavia an apologetic look before squeezing his eyes shut.

“I don’t think I... cleared the train in time,” he whimpered. Octavia saw that he was holding up one of his hindlegs, which was sticking out at a weird angle and had a bloody gash running along one side.

“Is everypony alright? What happened?!” a voice on the other side of the train shouted out.

“I... I don’t know! This train just... appeared on the tracks, and these mares tried to jump on! And they fell through, and then this guy jumped in after ‘em!”

They’re down there!” This voice came from the platform on the other side of the tracks, in full sight of Octavia and Watt Sun. “Somepony help them!

Octavia was barely aware of the voices around her. She managed to nudge one of her numb forehooves towards Watt Sun, taking his hoof in hers as he lay on the tracks, whimpering in pain.

Next Chapter: Strangers Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 6 Minutes
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