“We’ve been going about this all wrong,” Vinyl muttered. She was back in Watt Sun’s hospital room, pacing around the room while Octavia, Sharp Eye, and Watt Sun sat nearby and watched on.

“What are you thinking?” Sharp Eye inquired.

“I’m thinking we made a mistake letting the cops get involved,” Vinyl replied. She paused to glance at a copy of the morning’s Manehattan Times, which had a massive headline reading “NIGHT OF TERROR GRIPS BRONCLYN” and a picture of a huge explosion engulfing the roof of an apartment building.

“Don’t get me wrong, Gum Shoe seems decent and all, but the cops did the only thing they know how to do: charge in blasting.” She looked over at the other Pinkietons. “We’re spies, for crying out loud! If we’re going to catch this mare, we gotta get as sneaky as her.”

“That’s all well and good, Vinyl,” Octavia said. “Though you might be overlooking the small caveat that we have no idea where she is.”

“Did she have any friends?” Watt Sun asked. “Maybe family to stay with?”

“No one,” Vinyl answered. “The landlord said she almost never left the apartment, and records show that her parents passed away several years ago. They left her some money, which is how she’s been able to afford that apartment without an income.”

Octavia rubbed her eyes, which were red from another sleepless night, and groaned. Her normally well-groomed mane was messy and she was slumped over in her seat. “We’re overlooking the more obvious question. What in the world does any of this have to do with Con Mane?”

There was a long, uneasy silence following her words. The others glanced at each other before Watt Sun spoke. “Maybe she read about him? Perhaps there was a picture of him in the newspapers?”

“Even if such a thing did exist, what I saw was far too accurate to be from a second-hoof account,” Octavia replied. “He didn’t just look like him, he had his voice and his manners.”

“Maybe Con Mane met Curtain Call at some point? And told her about us?” Vinyl suggested.

“When? Between San Franciscolt and Canterlot?” Octavia said, raising an eyebrow at her friend. Vinyl shrugged in response. “Even if that was true, do you realize what an unlikely coincidence that would be?”

“I dunno, Octy,” Vinyl sighed, placing a hoof to her forehead.

“The more I think about this, the less sense it all seems to make,” Octavia muttered. “When we first went to Curtain Call’s apartment, she convinced us that she had been killed by the murderer. So why would she remain in that apartment and risk being discovered? Then when the police showed up, instead of using her powers to hide or run away, she tried to scare everypony out and refused to leave. Why?”

“Maybe she was hiding something there,” Sharp Eye suggested.

“Or maybe she’s just a homebody,” Vinyl said. “Perfecting her craft, like a total workaholic. I should know,” she added, winking at Octavia.

“And why impersonate Watt Sun?” Octavia continued. “Why risk being discovered then? And why attempt to kidnap a director off the stage when his entire crew was present? Just to prove that she can?”

“Why not?” Vinyl replied. “I mean, she did say she had to show the directors her talent. This pony lives and breathes themerse. She has to, she’s too good at it. I’ve never seen anypony with the kind of skill and variety that she has. But it sounds like she also hasn’t had anypony to show off that skill to since New Wave blew her off.”

“You almost sound like you’re sympathetic,” Sharp Eye muttered, raising an eyebrow. “Like you feel sorry for her.”

“It’s not that,” Vinyl said hurriedly, “I’m just trying to get into her head. Like... what if your entire life revolved around just one thing? What if the only thing I ever did was make music? I would just sit around my house recording songs, obsessing over it, talking about nothing but music...”

“And this is different from how you normally behave?” Octavia said with a smirk.

“This whole time we’ve been treating her like some kind of master criminal,” Vinyl went on, ignoring her friend’s remark. “But Octy’s right. Nothing she does makes any sense... for a master criminal! A master criminal wouldn’t let the diary slip back into our hooves or risk detection. But somepony who wants to show off would. She does have a flair for theatrics, you have to give her that.”

“So she’s a homebody and a show-off,” Sharp Eye surmised. “Interesting combination. But what does that tell us?”

“It tells us that she only knows one thing,” Vinyl answered. “And she sticks to the familiar. So what place would Curtain Call know best besides her own apartment?”

The streets of Little Tartarus were eerily quiet. Normally the neighborhood would be alive with activity in the evening, with ponies visiting to attend a show at one of the many theaters in the neighborhood. But nearly all of the theaters, even those that didn’t show themerse, had canceled their performances for fear of “the Phantom.” The restaurants and cafes that normally catered to theater-goers had closed early with nopony to serve. If one looked east up the dark, narrow streets, the bright glare of Thyme Square and Broncway shone in the distance like a miniature sun in the middle of Manehattan. Down to the west was the blackness at the edge of the city, where the lights and life of the city gave way to the dark, cold depths of the river.

The Immerse Theater was among the many in the neighborhood that were closed. Locked tight and with nothing advertised on its marquee, the theater had quickly shut down after the death of its star performer. Now Vinyl, Octavia, and Sharp Eye stood atop the roof of an adjacent building, looking over the place where the Phantom had first struck.

“Well, somepony is in there,” Vinyl said. She was wearing a pair of headphones and holding up a device that looked like a megaphone, pointing it in the direction of the theater. “Kinda hard to make out, but there’s definitely activity inside.”

“You really think Curtain Call is in there?” Octavia asked.

“Why not?” Vinyl replied. “She’s got nowhere else to go. Besides, it’s kinda fitting, isn’t it? Returning to the scene of the crime and all...”

“Alright, then,” Octavia said, strapping her sheathed sword to her back while Vinyl put her equipment into the saddlebag she was wearing. “Are we ready?”

“Are you sure we should have left Watt Sun behind?” Sharp Eye asked, looking uneasy. “I mean, considering what we’re up against... if she gets away again, she might look for him.”

“I’m sure your hubby will be fine with the police guards watching him,” Vinyl said, smirking. Sharp Eye merely scowled in response.

Octavia placed a hoof on Sharp Eye’s shoulder, giving her a smile. Sharp Eye nodded in response before they clambered down a fire escape on the side of the building before hopping across the narrow alleyway that separated the theater from the building next to it. All three landed easily on the roof of the theater and began creeping silently across it, pausing near an electric box in the middle of the roof. With a bit of magic, Vinyl opened the box and examined the circuits inside.

“Man, this place has virtually no security,” Vinyl muttered, yanking out one of the cables. “That’s the alarm taken care of. How do you want to enter?”

“Hmmm.” Octavia looked around, scanning the roof. She settled on a huge ventilation shaft that emerged up out of the building before curving to the side, with the opening facing them. “Do you have the rope?”

“Way ahead of you,” Vinyl said, already using her magic to levitate a length of rope out of her saddlebag before tying off one end around a nearby pole. Octavia wrapped it around her midsection, then silently climbed into the ventilation opening. The sheet of metal depressed slightly beneath her hooves, making a small “thoom,” but remained sturdy.

“One at a time,” Octavia instructed, perching herself on the small ledge over the ventilation shaft and peering down into the darkness below. “Let’s try not to make too much noise.” Vinyl and Sharp Eye nodded and she hopped back off the ledge and into the shaft, gripping the rope between her hooves and allowing just enough slack to drop slowly down the shaft. She carefully rappelled her way down, gently placing her hooves against the walls so as to not make a sound.

Her hooves found the bottom of the shaft and she carefully settled herself onto it, hearing the slight thud of the sheet metal beneath her but otherwise not making a sound. She noticed a patch of light nearby illuminating the ventilation shaft and crept slowly along the narrow passage to find an opening in the floor. Octavia peered through the screen covering the opening and found herself looking down into a small office. It was undecorated, with a window that allowed some light in from outside. A single desk, a couple of chairs, and a few filing cabinets were the room’s only furnishings. She pressed down on the screen, finding that it gave away easily and catching it before it could make any noise. She then leapt down, landing catlike on the floor before giving the rope a tug.

Octavia heard the small thump from overhead that signaled another pony passing through the ventilation shaft. A moment later, Sharp Eye’s head appeared in the opening before she slid down the rope into the office. Vinyl followed shortly thereafter, joining the other two before using her “come to life” spell to retrieve the rope and put it away in her saddlebag.

“Alright, stay on your guard,” Octavia whispered, pressing an ear to the closed door. “Keep your—”

There was a sudden thunderous roar coming from the other side of the door, causing Octavia to leap back in alarm. Vinyl and Sharp Eye crouched, bracing themselves for an attack that never came. The roar continued, echoing through the building and mingling with cheering voices and whistles.

“Is that... applause?” Sharp Eye whispered.

The three Pinkietons glanced at each other before Vinyl used her magic to unlock the door, opening it slowly to make as little noise as possible. Her caution turned out to be unnecessary, however, as the applause effectively drowned out any sound the door made. The three walked down the hall towards the roar, which eventually died down with a few solitary hooffalls.

Vinyl walked up to a door marked “MAINTENANCE” and cracked it open, peering through the narrow opening and what lay on the other side. She spent a moment just staring through before glancing back at Octavia and Sharp Eye and pressing a hoof to her lips, then quietly snuck inside. The other two followed, finding themselves on a large ledge overlooking a vast space. A catwalk lined with stage lights spanned across the space from the ledge to the other side of the cavernous room.

The three of them could hear voices coming from below, and crept along the ledge, peeking over the edge to see a huge crowd in the theater beneath them. The seats were filled with ponies, all of them giving their rapt attention to the stage, where a beautiful young unicorn mare was standing before the audience. She was a striking figure, with a deep blue coat that had a sheen to it and a long turquoise mane and tail that seemed to flow out from her, sparkling in the stage lights.

“Is that Curtain Call?” Sharp Eye asked, her tone one of awe.

“Yeah. Why? What did you think she looked like?” Vinyl replied.

Sharp Eye opened her mouth, but took a moment to formulate her response. “Come to think of it, I guess I don’t really know. But I need to make sure Watt Sun never lays eyes on her.”

“Fillies and gentlecolts!” Curtain Call announced, smiling broadly as she looked out at the audience. “You have been such a wonderful crowd! I hope you enjoyed this performance of ‘Mare of the River.’ Thank you all!” The crowd rose to its hooves, roaring its approval and stomping on the floor. Curtain Call bowed as roses were tossed onto the stage, landing gently near her hooves.

Vinyl and Octavia glanced at each other. “Octy?”

“Yes?”

“This is happening, right?”

They turned back to the stage, watching as Curtain Call blew kisses towards the crowd and bow a couple more times before finally retreating behind the curtain. The moment she did, the audience abruptly vanished. There was no trace of the crowd now; the seats below were completely empty.

“I don’t believe it is,” Octavia responded.

Curtain Call strode forward, her mane billowing out behind her as she walked. Around her, backstage ponies were busy wrapping up the set, each one complimenting her as she walked past. Heads turned at her approach, each one gazing upon her with a look of admiration. She acknowledged all of them; a star like herself always made time for her fans.

“Oh Curtain Call, your performance was breathtaking! I’ve never seen such a heart-wrenching portrayal of a mare’s plight...”

“...such an innovative use of themerse techniques. There will be a generation of directors who shall speak the name Curtain Call with reverence...”

“...so brilliantly written, with thought-provoking themes and compelling characters...”

“...it’s as if you have an equally proportionate gift to writing, acting, and directing!”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really!” Curtain Call replied with a giggle. “You’re too kind!” She proceeded to the very back of the room, where a red couch and a pair of young stallions were awaiting her. She laid down upon the couch and felt the gentle touch of one of the stallions upon her back, massaging her shoulders. She cooed softly, relaxing into the plush cushions of the couch.

“That was a wonderful show, Curtain Call,” the masseur said. “Truly, the best performance of ‘Mare of the River’ I have ever seen.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Curtain Call answered. “I dare say I did better than New Wave herself.”

At the thought of her old mentor, a scowl crossed her face. The memory of the diary flashed unbidden through her mind. Around her, the surroundings changed to that of a gloomy subway tunnel, where a single, solitary cloaked figure sat by the edge of the train tracks, clutching a book. Curtain Call remained in her couch, looking upon the illusion of herself. “I knew taking it would be a bad idea, but I had to know what New Wave had written!” she narrated, watching herself read the diary. Tears streamed down the cloaked figure’s maskless face before she closed the book. Her teeth were gritted and her eyes were tightly shut as she rose to her hooves and flung the diary into the gloom, casting its vileness amongst the grime and filth of the tunnel. As Curtain Call watched herself flee from the tunnel, her gaze lingered on the diary. Perhaps some rat would come across the book and make a meal of its pages, consuming such poisonous words.

The tunnel vanished and Curtain Call was backstage once more, still laying upon her couch and tended to by the stallions, even as a solitary tear rolled down her cheek. “Nothing I did ever made her happy, nothing I did ever satisfied her!” she yelled, stomping her hooves into the plush cushions.

She looked across the stage to see New Wave standing there, giving Curtain Call that cold sneer she remembered so well. Curtain Call rose off the couch, walking towards her old mentor with a defiant expression. “Well, what do you think of me now?!” she shouted. “Am I your equal now? Were you afraid that I would finally stand up to you?”

New Wave merely stood in place and stared back even as Curtain Call yelled in her face. “You’re finished! I’m greater than you now! I even have your theater! What do you think of that?!”

Her mentor didn’t respond. “Well?!” Curtain Call bellowed. “Answer me!” She swung her forehoof at New Wave’s face, but it passed right through. The elder mare vanished in a cloud of smoke, leaving Curtain Call alone, panting and bent over with her teeth gritted and her eyes glaring at the spot where New Wave had been standing.

After a moment, she closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. She stood fully upright and gave her sparkling mane a toss. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. I don’t need you. I have my fans now.” As if on cue, she turned around to view a crowd of ponies, their faces lit up with delight and looking eagerly at Curtain Call. They quickly began to surround her.

“Oh Curtain Call, you’re the greatest!”

“Curtain Call, I’m your biggest fan!”

“Ms. Call, could I get a shot for the Times?”

“Ms. Curtain Call, could I get your autograph?”

She reached out to take the small notebook that somepony was holding out to her. “Certainly,” she cooed, pulling out a pen. “And who should I make this out to?”

“Scratch. Vinyl Scratch.”

Curtain Call froze and looked up to see a mass of white before something collided into her, knocking her off her hooves. She fell through the air, her attacker pushing her to the floor before she landed on her back, her head hitting the wood floorboards with a sharp smack. The crowd of ponies around her immediately vanished, leaving only Curtain Call and the pony standing atop her.

“Hah!” Vinyl cried. “I got—”

Her words got caught in her throat when she looked down at the pony laying beneath her hooves. It took her a moment to realize that this was even the same pony who had been on stage just a moment before. The long, flowing turquoise mane was gone, replaced by a short, light blue mane that was frayed at the ends and graying. The luster and sparkle of her hair had vanished. Even more shocking was the change in her figure; where the Curtain Call on stage had a pleasant, healthy-looking figure, this Curtain Call looked thin and frail, with a visible rib cage and neck veins. Her coat was dull blue and unkempt, and her face no longer had the youthful appearance it had a moment ago; there were dark circles beneath her eyes and her cheeks were thin.

Curtain Call took advantage of Vinyl’s astonishment to kick her off, before jumping to her hooves and racing away. But she didn’t get more than a couple of steps before something gray leapt onto her, pinning her to the ground. She felt somepony on her back, pressing her against the floorboards. Curtain Call struggled, but a second figure joined the gray one already on top of her, holding her hooves down.

“Ms. Curtain Call,” Octavia grunted, wrestling her head to the floor, “you are under arrest for the murder of New Wave, and the attempted murder and kidnapping of no less than four other ponies.”

“No, stop!” Curtain Call whined. “Why do you keep ruining everything? Why do you hate my performance?”

A set of white hooves stepped into her vision, and she looked up to see Vinyl staring down at her. “We’re here because you killed New Wave, obviously.”

“Why do you keep saying I killed her?” Curtain Call cried. “She was just here, didn’t you see?!”

“That was an illusion and you know it,” Vinyl muttered.

“No! No, she was here! She was here, and so were all my fans! See?” Her horn began to glow and the crowd of admirers reappeared around them, taking pictures of Curtain Call and complimenting her.

“Stop this!” Octavia growled, smacking Curtain Call’s head against the floor and causing the illusion to vanish. “You know perfectly well that this isn’t real!”

“No, please!” Curtain Call moaned, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t take away my fans...”

Vinyl, Octavia, and Sharp Eye glanced at each other while Curtain Call continued to cry. “I don’t think she’s...” Vinyl paused, pointing a hoof at the side of her head and twirling it around. “...well.”

“Ms. Curtain Call,” Sharp Eye began, “will you admit that you poisoned New Wave?”

“Yes, I did!” Curtain Call replied quickly. “She deserved it, too! Connie said it would end her career, and he was right!”

There was a long silence following her words, and Curtain Call could feel Octavia shaking on top of her. “How do you know Con Mane?”

“He came to find me,” Curtain Call said. “He’s been helping me put together my performance! He told me how to end New Wave’s career and how to get all the other directors to pay attention to me! When I’m done, everypony in Manehattan will know about me!”

“Con Mane is dead!” Octavia growled. “You’ve probably just been imagining him, like these ‘fans’ of yours!”

“No, he’s real! He tells me he’s my biggest fan, and how much he loves my work, and he helps me, and he said he would spy on somepony named Sharp Eye to find out more about the Pinkietons—”

“Stop it!” Sharp Eye cried. “None of that was real!”

Suddenly, all of them were bathed in bright light. The three Pinkietons winced, shielding their eyes from the stage lights overhead, which had abruptly turned on. “What the—” Octavia muttered before a hoof smacked her across the face, striking with enough impact to push her off Curtain Call. She felt the performer slip through her hooves, scrambling away even as the stage lights turned off.

“Don’t take your eyes off her!” Vinyl yelled as Curtain Call leapt down into the audience seats, racing up the aisle towards the front of the building, with the three Pinkietons right behind her. Curtain Call burst through the double doors to the lobby and then across the room and out into the empty street, with her pursuers following close.

She turned right and began galloping west, down the middle of the narrow street. She may have looked thin and frail, but she was proving to be a fast runner, and on the downward slope towards the river she was picking up speed. Octavia, the fastest of the three Pinkietons, kept close even as she began to leave Vinyl and Sharp Eye behind.

Curtain Call was in full flight now, galloping frantically away. Her horn began glowing and a pair of nearby garbage cans were suddenly upturned, rolling straight towards Octavia, but she leapt over them easily. The agent tried to close the distance between them as they crossed another block, bringing them to the edge of Manehattan. Ahead of them, all that could be seen was a vast swath of darkness that Octavia knew to be the river. The smell of salt water was suddenly in the air and it invigorated Octavia, filling her with adrenaline as she felt the end of the chase quickly approaching.

They raced past a huge warehouse separating them from the river before Curtain Call ran for a nearby pier, her hooves pounding loudly on the wooden planks. Octavia followed, hearing the groan of the ancient, rotten wood and the splash of waves beneath her. In the distance, across the wide stretch of river, was a thin line of lights along the opposite shoreline. The pier was dimly lit, with faint circles of light from the lightposts separated by wide stretches of darkness. Octavia briefly lost track of Curtain Call in the darkness before she reappeared in another circle of light further down the pier.

“Wait!” Octavia called out. “I’m not going to hurt you! You need help!” Curtain Call either didn’t hear her or choose to ignore her, continuing to run on.

At last, Octavia watched Curtain Call, barely visible in the darkness, arrive at the end of the pier, skidding to a halt. She glanced back at the approaching agent. “Don’t come any closer!” she yelled. “I’ll jump! I swear I’ll do it!”

Octavia didn’t slow down, watching Curtain Call back away towards the end of the pier. “Don’t jump! You’re not well!”

“Don’t come any closer!” Curtain Call repeated, but Octavia was almost upon her now. She leapt at her, intending to tackle her to the ground before she could slip off. Her outstretched hooves reached for Curtain Call, but as she came closer she finally noticed her features in the dim light: a mare with a healthy-looking figure with a long, flowing mane.

Octavia yelped just as she passed through the figure, which vanished in a burst of smoke. She landed on the wooden planks, skidding towards the end of the pier. The agent had just enough time to throw out her forehooves and catch the ledge before sliding off, falling towards the cold waters below. Octavia now dangled off the end of the pier, desperately hanging on.

“Hah!” a triumphant shout called out. Octavia looked up to see the true face of Curtain Call as she jumped out from behind a box nearby. She began jumping up and down on the wooden planks, cheering gleefully. “You can’t catch me! I’m too smart for you! I’ll always—”

A loud crack rang through the air, followed by several more as Curtain Call suddenly plunged out of sight. Octavia caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure falling beneath the pier before there was a loud splash, accompanied by a series of quieter ones as chunks of wood fell into the water. She heard a desperate gasp over the waves and frantic splashing, staring down with wide eyes to see a figure in the river below, quickly being swept away by the current.

“Octy!” Vinyl’s voice cried out. She looked up to see her friends approaching. Vinyl quickly reached down and grasped Octavia’s forehooves with her own, grunting as she pulled her back up onto the pier. They collapsed onto the edge of the pier and sat for a moment, panting heavily and staring at each other before Vinyl pulled her friend into a hug. Octavia gave a muffled grunt of surprise before smiling and patting Vinyl on the back.

Sharp Eye looked from the gaping hole now in the wooden planks of the pier out over the river, where she caught a glimpse of a figure still struggling against the current, hooves flailing above the water before she slipped beneath the waves, vanishing in the river.