Five minutes until midnight. Applejack was wringing her forehooves and pacing in the Royal Courtroom. Braeburn and Big Macintosh fared no better, both stallions trotting from stained-glass window to stained-glass window and staring up at the same images. Though they were silent, Applejack could hear their fear rushing like the blood in her own ears.

It was not like Twilight to be late. Applejack couldn’t speak very much about the others—even Princess Celestia and Princess Luna exchanged their stars late during the summer dusk and dawn—but if she knew anypony, she knew Twilight, and Twilight should have returned with everypony else almost ten minutes ago.

No sign of any of the three Princesses, the other Elements, or even a single Royal Guard. Just three Apples on their lonesome, pacing over the checkerboard floor, burdened by their dangerous knowledge.

What if Bernie Madhoof had already infiltrated Canterlot? What if he had recruited Changelings to join his cause? What if they three they had spoken to were just transformations in disguise, Chrysalis and two other horrendous Queens preparing three cocoons for them?

“Ah don’t know how much longer Ah can take this,” Applejack muttered, rubbing her forehooves together. She turned to the stallions, who were currently looking at the same stained-glass image of the Elements of Harmony defeating Discord that they had seen over thirty times. “What’s takin’ ‘em so long? This ain’t like Twilight at all.”

Big Macintosh raised a forehoof. “Now, sis, calm down." On his face was a mixture of fear and trembling, his muzzle scrunched up in a transparent smile. “Ah’m sure they’ll be here any minute. Jus’ be patient.”

“Applejack, don’t worry! Heh, heh…” Rubbing his nape, Braeburn looked around the empty Courtroom, his eyes following its red carpet to the three empty thrones in the middle. “Ah’m sure they’re on their way.”

“But what if they’re not? What are we gonna do, y’all?” Applejack brought her Stetson to her muzzle. “If they don’t come, Ah don’t think—”

From her peripherals came a burst of bright, purple light. The ruckus of several sets of hooves hitting the floor echoed throughout the Royal Courtroom, making all three Apples turn around fast enough to make their heads spin.

“Ooh, it’s Applejack! Hiya, Applejack!”

Gasping, Applejack’s eyes nearly bulged from her skull.

Princess Twilight Sparkle and the four other Elements of Harmony appeared beside the thrones. The Princess was panting heavily, sweat drenching her fur and feathers. Three of the four Elements appeared to have been momentarily awakened from a particularly deep sleep, while the oddball of the group seemed as chipper as ever.

Pinkie Pie bounced over to Applejack, giggling as she threw her forehooves around her neck and squeezed her into a hug. “Good evening, Applejack! Or, should I say, ‘Good morning!’ because it’s almost tomorrow, which would make it morning, and wow am I so glad to see you, I mean, I saw you yesterday when you were selling apples in town and I bought you that big slice of carrot cake because you looked like you hadn’t had a good piece of carrot cake in a while and I hope you liked it because I made it myself with extra cream cheese frosting that Moorella gave to us, by the way how does she make that stuff ex—”

“PINKIE! Will you shut UP?!" Across the room, Rainbow Dash, her eyes red and bloodshot, chucked a pillow towards the hyperactive mare. “Geez! I just woke up like five minutes ago!”

Fluttershy flipped a strand of pink mane from her eyes and squeaked like a mouse scurrying from one hole in the wall to another. “R-Rainbow Dash, that’s not very nice…”

Rarity pulled her sleep blindfold from her eyes with a groan. “Oh, Twilight, darling, I do hope this is as important as you made it sound! I tried to catch up on my beauty sleep in between teleportation spells, but it was to no avail!”

Applejack shoved a forehoof in Pinkie’s mouth and pried the mare off her. “Heh, heh, good ta see you too, Pinkie,” she said with an honest smile, “but Ah think ya should calm down. Save yer energy.”

Pinkie Pie zipped her lips shut and nodded, giving quick hugs to the two stallions before she hopped back over and apologized to Rainbow Dash.

Braeburn and Big Macintosh grinned towards the Elements. “Glad ta see ya come back, yer Highness,” Braeburn said, bowing to Twilight.

Twilight, still breathing heavily, stood up and stretched her wings. “Th-thanks, Braeburn. Ugh… That took more out of me than I thought. Multiple teleportation spells across cities in the same night wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be.”

“When are the others comin’?” Big Macintosh asked.

“Should be soon… I hope,” Twilight said quietly.

Rainbow Dash yawned and stretched, then trotted over to Applejack. “So, AJ, apparently there’s something happening in Manehatten?”

“Yes, what is going on there?” Rarity joined Dash and Applejack, Fluttershy and Pinkie following behind her. “Twilight wasn’t all too clear. By the time she and Dash teleported into my room in Canterlot’s finest hotel and suite, rather rudely pulling me from my slumber, I might add—” she shot daggers towards the sheepishly smiling alicorn—”all I got was… ahem…”

Rarity cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and blurted, “RaritywakeupquickweneedtheElementsthere’ssomethinghappeninginManehatten!”

With a snort, Rainbow Dash started laughing. Pinkie rubbed her forehooves together and said with an enormous grin, “I taught that mare well!”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “I did not say it like that, Rare.”

Rarity dismissed her with a forehoof. “Oh, sure, darling. My mistake.”

Fluttershy said, “Well, I was already awake because Angel Bunny had a bad dream… And I think Twilight said something about some sort of… monster…”

Braeburn scowled. “Monster’s right, Fluttershy. An’ not jus’ any monster; a monster passin’ himself off as a pony.”

“So, Changelings, then?” Rainbow Dash stood on her hindhooves and put her forehooves up in a boxer’s stance. “Lemme at ‘em! Show Chrysalis and her old swarm who’s boss mare!”

Twilight shook her head, lowering Dash's forehooves with a wing. “No, not Chrysalis. Princess Celestia, Luna, and I will explain on the way there. I don’t want to make Braeburn repeat all that he told us."

Applejack grinned at her friends, stunned that they were actually here on such short notice and on such a night. “Thank y’all fer comin’. Ah… No, we really appreciate this. Ma family an’ Ah.”

Rarity threw a forehoof around Applejack’s shoulders. “Of course, Applejack! What are friends for?”

Pinkie Pie hopped up and down. “Ooh! Ooh! I think it’s hug time!”

Twilight said with a slight grin, “Yes, I think we’re all going to need a hug before the Princesses and the Royal Guard arrive.”

All five Elements threw their forehooves around Applejack and each other, with Braeburn and Big Macintosh sharing a shrug, then joining in. For a moment, it was simply a midnight reunion, nothing more.

With the exclusion of Twilight, Rarity, Braeburn, and Rainbow Dash, all present had remained in Ponyville and saw one another frequently. Still, Applejack reasoned, of any night that would require affection, this would be the one.

When everypony pulled away, twin flashes of golden and dark-purple light at the rear of the Royal Courtroom caught their attention. Turning around, Applejack saw Princess Celestia and Princess Luna appear in a rush of strong magic.

Beside the Royal Sisters were the Captain of the Royal Guard, the First Lieutenant of the Day Guard, and the First Lieutenant of the Night Guard—two strong, mighty unicorn stallions and one mighty pegasus-turned-batpony.

Flashes of gold and purple armor sparkled in the moon’s rising midnight. All three of these officers, spears in their forehooves and (to Braeburn’s relief) holstered pistols on their shoulders, bowed towards the Elements of Harmony, who bowed in turn to the Princesses.

Princess Celestia gestured for all to rise and stood tall to her hooves. “Thank you all for coming tonight on such short notice. There are chariots and Royal Guards waiting outside for us to depart for Manehatten. I shall explain on the way.”

Princess Luna stood tall on her hooves and gestured to her batpony captain. “Captain Comet shall guide everypony who is going by wing. We must get to Manehatten as soon as possible.”

Princess Twilight nodded to her friends, all but one standing in sleepy-eyed confusion. “Everypony, tonight we may be facing a foe as terrible and dangerous as Discord and Sombra. We may have to use the Elements of Harmony—”

“But Twilight, we gave the Elements to the Tree of Harmony years ago!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed. “We haven’t had to use them since, which is great, because we don’t have them!”

Twilight raised a forehoof, explaining, “By the very spirits of Harmony within us, we shall be able to seal him, just as we did with Discord and Nightmare Moon. The Elements are not only physical objects, but they are spiritual ones, too, and their power is not limited to the presence of the gems.”

Silence.

Then, Applejack stepped forward, Big Macintosh and Braeburn beside her. “Everypony, Elements o’ no Elements, there’s a terrible evil in Manehatten, an’ our family an’ friends may be in danger. That’s why Braeburn, Mac, an’ Ah came here ta-night, an’ why y’all are beside me. This’ll be very dangerous; the stallion we’re after doesn’t use magic, but he’s got a ton o’ tricks up his sleeve, none o’ ‘em good.

“It might git real ugly once we git ta Manehatten, so if anypony wants ta leave, they should leave now.”

This time, the silence was brief, broken by Rainbow Dash. Throwing a wing around her friend, she said boldly, “We’re up, we’re here, and we’re not going anywhere, AJ. Right, gang?”

Fluttershy, Rarity, and Pinkie shouted in unison, “Right!”

Princess Celestia flared her wings, that same fiery light shining in her eyes. “So it’s settled then. Twilight, I think I will give you some rest on this one…”

Lighting her horn, Princess Celestia closed her eyes, enveloping everypony within the Royal Courtroom—the Elements of Harmony, Braeburn, Big Macintosh, the three Royal Guards, and Luna—in a radiant, golden light.

~

The six emerged from the Manehatten Police Department’s armory, bloodied blue uniforms replaced. All of their spent weapons had been reloaded and checked once, twice, three times. A pair of Colt pistols and a Colt rifle each, they ascended back to the hallway towards the prison, where Card Slinger and the Manehatten Kings awaited them.

Officer Rustler, his shoulder wound freshly cleaned and bandaged, trotted side-by-side with the detective, as did Officer Lucky Toss. Officer Cotton brought up the rear, trotting next to “Officers” Babs Seed and Apple Bloom.

Between three sets of bulging saddlebags were enough weapons to arm Card Slinger and his forty Manehatten Kings. Along with all the other sins they had committed tonight, the six added theft to their list of transgressions.

Nevertheless, with Bernie Madhoof sure to have his goons check the police station next—especially when Chief Brutus, one of his most important pawns, failed to return to this Master—they had no choice. The Master’s mansion would be no place for hoof-to-hoof combat. No matter how many allies they brought with them, if they were unarmed, it was over.

The detective’s rough hooves had administered to the others' wounds before her own down in the armory. Cotton, Babs, and Rustler all had winced and protested at her quick and dirty first aid, but they were trotting still, ready as could be for the final confrontation.

While they entered the hallway leading to the prison, Babs Seed rubbed a forehoof at the wound on her back, grimacing.

Beside her, Apple Bloom caught her pained expression. “Feelin’ better?” At Babs’s slow nod, she added, “Just' checkin'. Had me worried there.”

Oh, I don’t think dat worry’s gonna lessen, Bloom. Babs just nodded again, returning the slight smile.

Although the thundering hooves in her chest had finally relaxed, giving her a few moments to finally breathe, the urgency rushing through her blood had yet to cease. Forty-seven strong, they would next march to the Mansion on the Hill after arming the Kings.

One final scene awaited in the nightmare tonight before Babs Seed could wake back up in the uncharted territory, Apple Bloom slumbering beside her. When everything was said and done, they would open up their bar for the evening, slinging drinks and exchanging stories with miners, vagabonds, and settlers until Soapy and Dyea arrived and began hammering away on the piano—

Babs Seed shook her head and exhaled. No. Never ‘gain.

I won’t let their deaths be in vain. Not fo’ anythin.’

At the head of the pack, Dove and Rustler reached the prison doors at last. Opening them wide, they trotted inside, Toss holding the doors for the others to enter. Cotton, Apple Bloom, and Babs followed, then Toss.

His scrapes and wounds bandaged with strips of a blanket from one of the cell’s cots, Card Slinger stood tall, Dodge at his right hoof. The rest of the Manehatten Kings waited behind him, practically salivating in anticipation of the sweet taste of revenge.

Terrible criminals stood before Babs Seed: thieves; counterfeiters; drug dealers; drunkards; brawlers; even murderers and rapists. These thugs, brutes, goons, slimeballs, bastards, their malevolent demeanor aside, made no motion to attack the officers when they arrived, appearing as innocent as firstborn foals in spite of their scars.

Every ounce of Babs Seed’s common sense screamed that these ponies were not to be trusted, not to be allowed outside of their cells without chains bound around their hooves. If everything tonight was madness, freeing and recruiting these criminals was the last dollop of insanity.

Even so, as Dove had explained to a still-confused Cotton and a skeptical Rustler down in the armory, the Royal Guard taught her that the enemy of an enemy was a friend. The Manehatten Kings, Slinger included, would be tried for their crimes when the dust settled.

For now, Bernie Madhoof was their enemy, and his enemies, the third of the Manehatten Kings left to die by Chief Brutus's gun, were their friends.

Grabbing her saddlebag of guns, Dove set the treasure trove before Card Slinger’s hooves. Slowly, Toss and Rustler did the same, until all three bags lay before him.

“Enough guns fo’ all o’ youze,” Dove said, sweeping her gaze among the Manehatten Kings and Card Slinger. “One fo’ each o’ youze wit' two loads o' ammo, so make it count.”

Slinger grinned. “Thank youze, Dove.”

Dove stiffened at his gratitude, turning to address the freed Manehatten Kings. “Now, listen up! I don’t know what youze all have done, but ta-night, none o’ dat mattas. We’re goin’ afta Madhoof, fast an’ best we can, an’ takin’ him out. Wit’ him still alive, don’t matta how many lettas we send ta Celestia; she ain’t comin’.

“Once the goon is out, we’ll be gettin’ Celestia, Luna, Twilight, hell, even Cadence heeya, an’ the whole Guard, too. I can’t guarantee youze won’t be prosecuted fo’ anythin’ youze did in service ta dat mothabucka—” Dove’s nostrils flared as she paused on his name—”but takin’ him down most certainly helps. Youze will be tried fairly, no crooked judges o’ street justice. Don’t try any funny business towards us six in blue, an’ we won’t try anythin’ towards youze.”

When she paused, Dove braced for the worst, expecting at least one of the Manehatten Kings to spring at her, to grab a gun from the proffered bags and start shooting.

To her great surprise and awe, the forty either nodded or said nothing, then cautiously approached the saddlebags. Colt pistols were passed around, their holsters tied to shoulders, but remained unfired.

Babs Seed sensed that something drastic had changed within these ponies—something old that, thought to be dead, had sparked again. Far from Witching Hour, there was nonetheless some strong magic at work here.

That, or the Manehatten Kings, Card Slinger included, had finally realized that they were mere pawns on the chessboard, disposable to their King.

With the Manehatten Police Department’s duty pistols strapped to their shoulders, the same pawns had reached the other side of the board and switched colors.

Now, it was time to attack. White goes first.

Card Slinger was the last to take a weapon. He held the pistol up to his eyes, inspecting it before he began strapping the holster around his shoulder.

“Summat wrong?” Dove asked, her tone dripping with a hint of remaining venom.

Slinger finished tying the holster’s knot and shook his muzzle. “Wish I had ma own weapon ta take down the bastard, but we don’t always get what we want, do we?”

Rustler stepped towards the forty. “Youze heard the detective. No funny business an’ nopony gets hurt. Follow us ta the Mansion an’ ta the Masta. Iffa there’s any friendly fire, youze won’t find us bein’ so friendly.”

Dodge lifted a forehoof, smirking. “Oh, trust me, Offica,” he said with a touch of disdain, “I think I speak fo’ everypony when I say dat we don’t like dis anymo’ than youze do. But iffa the Masta continues on, then there’s only one way outta Manehatten fo’ us, an’ dat’s a box. An’ I ain’t ready fo’ no box.”

Murmurs and mutters of agreement followed his statement. With a nod, Rustler turned to Dove, securing the straps of his own weapons across one last time. “We ready?”

Dove looked to Toss, then to Cotton, then to Apple Bloom, then to Babs, all of whom nodded.

Right now, Detective White Dove heard no hooves approaching them from the floors above, but knew they would come, and soon. With Chief Brutus and three other officers dirtying the concrete floor and the rest of the prison empty, it was only a matter of time before they were found out, either by their fellow officers or Madhoof.

Dove's previous plan of waking other officers to join them was discarded by both a lack of time and the presence of forty-one waiting, if somewhat untrustworthy, soldiers. Like it or not, criminals or not, Card Slinger and his Manehatten Kings were the best chance they had of victory.

And they needed victory now, more than any other battle she had fought in her life.

Detective White Dove met Card Slinger’s gaze. “We’re ready. Youze ready?”

Card Slinger grinned. “Fo’ eight years, I’ve been ready.”

Confused by his response, Dove considered asking, but simply spun around. Moving from a trot to a canter, she started out the room, the five other uniformed ponies following her, then the forty-one.

Up the stairs, down the hallway. Up more stairs. Another hallway.

Forty-seven pairs of hooves, churning and thundering like locomotive wheels, eating up the distance between here and there, then and now. Forty-seven hearts, forty-seven pairs of lungs, forty-seven bodies of muscle and sinew and blood and bone, all ready, ready as they could be, scared and scarred, furious and fearful, ready to fight but not to die.

Soon, the doors to the police station swung open again. They were out in the open this time. Galloping through the street.

Apple Bloom racing in time with her, Babs Seed allowed Card Slinger’s words to echo in her ears as they pursued Manehatten Hill and the Orange Family Mansion.

Fo’ eight years, I’ve been ready.

Hooves met cobblestone and concrete. The clock tower in the distance declared that she was living after midnight again. Babs Seed was heading back towards the Mansion, towards Madhoof, towards the Orange, with the Apple of her eye by her side.

Fo’ eights years, I’ve been ready, too, Slinga.

But not fo’ dis.

~

An instant later, the Princesses, Guard Captain and Lieutenants, Apples, and Elements of Harmony were outside of Canterlot Castle, surrounded by Royal Guards of all races and scores of chariots. Pairs of batpony and pegasi guards pulled the chariots, while unicorn and Earth pony guards occupied the vast majority of them.

In totality, at least fifty stallions and mares stood ready for the orders of their Princesses. All guards present had both spears and guns, armed and ready for the oncoming onslaught.

Applejack’s eyes widened as she steadied herself. “N-never knew they all had guns, too…”

“It is important to be able to fight on an even level with one's enemies,” Princess Luna explained, spreading her wings. “While we do not use these weapons outside of emergencies, Bernie Madhoof and his minions do otherwise.”

Dash blinked, then rounded on Applejack. “Wait! Bernie Madhoof? Isn’t that your awful uncle from Manehatten?”

Big Macintosh snorted and glared at Dash. “Nope. That bastard ain’t our family.”

Taking a step back from the stallion, Dash recoiled. “Oh… S-sorry…”

Princess Twilight Sparkle ushered her friends towards the chariots. “C’mon, everypony! Time’s ticking!”

Scrambling, Rarity and Pinkie Pie took one chariot, Applejack, Braeburn, and Big Macintosh the other. The Captain of the Royal Guard and the First Lieutenant of the Day Guard jumped into another chariot. The First Lieutenant of the Night Guard, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash stood beside Twilight, Celestia, and Luna, opening their wings alongside the Princesses.

At Princess Luna’s signal, the batpony guards kicked off their hooves, pulling their chariots into the night. At Princess Celestia’s signal, the pegasi guards jumped into the air, pumped their wings, and followed the batponies.

In one final motion, Princess Twilight motioned for the remaining guards to follow them. Princess Luna, Princess Celestia, the batpony lieutenant, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy kicked off their hindhooves and shot off into the night, following the chariots, while the remaining Royal Guards brought up the rear of their formation.

Into the night sky, the Princesses, Dash, and Fluttershy caught up to the chariots containing the other Elements and the Apples, while the batpony lieutenant lingered behind with the rest of the pegasi and batponies.

Catching eyes with the other Elements of Harmony, Twilight evened the rhythms of her wings and took a deep breath. “Now, what I’m about to tell you, everypony, is quite shocking, and you may not believe me, but—”

“We believe you, Twilight,” Dash interjected, flying up alongside her. “Look at all of us!” Gesturing to the troop of guards, chariots, and ponies within and without, the strongest and mightiest ponies in Equestria, she said pointedly, “I don’t think you would’ve pulled us all together for just a night flight. Now, spill it!”

Princess Celestia and Princess Luna nodded to Twilight, determination visible on their muzzles. Twilight, catching light of her mentor’s eyes, nodded in turn, a wellspring of hope spreading through her veins, making her wings strong, light.

Exhaling thickly, her breath becoming mist in the night, Twilight Sparkle turned to her friends, and began telling them the same story Braeburn had told her, the same story that dripped with urgency, with necessity, with adrenaline, with the beating of their angelic wings in the cold night.

The closer they approached the once-shining city in the East, the thicker the cloud cover became, the colder the winds blew.

To the East, to the beast, they descended, chariot wheels and wings shining in the moonlight.

~

The weary-eyed receptionist barely looked up from her magazine when the door creaked open and a stallion galloped inside. “Yes? Can I help youze?”

Panting, Turner laid his forehooves on the receptionist’s desk and took several heaving breaths. His eyes found a clock slowly ticking on the wall. It was almost half past midnight.

Four other hotels had been nothing but wasted time, wasted, frantic time as their bubblegum-smacking receptionists or yawning desk clerks searched through their registries and found no record of Babs Seed or Apple Bloom. This fifth one, the Comfort Inn, would be a similar waste of time.

“Bah… Hah… Gah… I… I need...” For a moment, Turner was unable to speak, his depleted lungs catching up with his barreling heart.

“What was dat, sir?” The receptionist flipped another page in her magazine.

Turner managed, “I… I need ta… Gah… See iffa… Haah… t-two mares are r-regist—”

“Maybe try when youze can string a sentence togetha, ol’ stallion?”

Turner scowled and stomped a forehoof on the desk, standing tall. Oxygen finally replaced within his burning lungs, he growled and spat back, “N-now, listen heeya! I… I been runnin’ ‘round since I got heeya tryin’ ta find some—”

A heavy sigh interrupted him, followed by a nasally, “How can I help youze, sir?”

Fighting the enticing temptation to smack this sarcastic young mare across her rather homely muzzle, Turner swallowed his vitriol, then replied, “I’m lookin’ fo’ Babs Seed an’ Apple Bloom. Shoulda checked in few days ‘go, unda eitha o’ the names.”

The receptionist finally set her magazine down and grabbed a box of registry notecards sitting on the desk. “One moment, sir.”

A fake smile painted its way across his scowling muzzle. “Thank youze, ma’am.”

The mare glanced up at him, her nostrils flaring. While she chose not to reply, her forehoof wandered through a jam-packed box of notecards, some of which appeared to be quite old. Removing his forehooves from the desk, Turner took another breath and stood on all fours. Quite predictably, this was going to be a dead end.

For some reason he could not explain, Page Turner felt an all-encompassing sense of urgency, which distorted his sense of time and space. Manehatten might as well have been the entire desert between Appleloosa and the Badlands, might as well have been the sea to the far West and East.

Every metronomic ticking from the clock above skittered by like an insect, quick and fleeting. The sands of time were slipping through his hooves—something that, tonight, frightened him to the core. From within him came an endless chant of, Betta move, betta move, betta mo—

“Heeya it is.” Plucking a single notecard from the box, the receptionist slapped it down on the desk. “Hmm. Looks like dey checked out dis—I mean, yesterday mornin’.”

Blinking in disbelief, Turner smacked his forehooves on the desk again, sending the receptionist’s registry box tumbling. “Really? When?!”

Scowling, the receptionist prodded him in the chest. “‘Ey! Youze jus’ knocked ova all ma cards, youze bastard!”

“When did dey check out?!” Turner demanded, ignoring her when she prodded him again.

“I dunno! Ma buckin' registries are all ova the damn floor!”

Turner lurched forward, grabbing the mare by her necklace. Yanking her towards him, the normally polite and courteous vagabond, reeking of sweat and desert and fear, hissed like a mad-stallion through his teeth. “When the buck did dey check out?! Answa me!”

In response, the receptionist grabbed his shoulders and pushed him backwards with all her might. Turner stumbled and swayed on his hindlegs, barely able to keep his balance. A fountain pen whizzed by his forehead, almost smacking him.

“Youze buckin’ psycho! I’m gonna get the police!”

Rubbing his chest, Turner stomped down to his hooves and exclaimed, “Fine! But jus’ tell me where ma daughta an’ her mare went!”

Throwing up her hooves as she backed away from the desk, close to flipping it in her rage, the receptionist shot back across the lobby, “Those dykes left wit’ some stallion police offica ‘round eight o’ clock o’ summat dis morn, okay?! Now, get the buck outta heeya befo’ I have youze—”

Slamming the door behind him, Page Turner galloped into the streets, far away from the Comfort Inn.

Police offica.

Kicking up mud, coating his fetlocks in puddle water and grimy dust, the stallion headed back towards downtown Manehatten, towards hell and darker hell.

~

Bernie Madhoof stood tall on his hindhooves, looking out his majestic bay windows towards the sleeping city of Manehatten.

The falling rain hammered against shingled rooftops below, against the rafters of abandoned buildings, against the panes of windows far less beautiful than his own. From this angle, he could see everything, and, thus, could know everything.

While he lacked wings or a horn, Bernie Madhoof was powerful still, powerful in word and bit and blood. Bits and blood were all that mattered, the wisest words had professed when he was young and learning. In time, he had learned to perfect his words of bits and blood, learned how to bring others to his side, learned how to string up ponies and make them dance for him.

A glass of orange juice lingered near his lips. He drank it slowly, relishing the flavor and consistency of his life’s work. There were a few bits of pulp left, sure, just as there had been a few obstacles to his glory. Mares. Foals. Ponies, Zebras, Griffons, and others who knew too much. Nosy alicorns, haughty and plump on their thrones of gold.

Fools all.

A group of his thugs, many of them former Manehatten Kings, were on their way to the tower to slay those who had dared to become further fools. Reports of a group of officers—and those two mares posing as officers—had made their way to his ears. He had dispatched accordingly, not one hint of fear in his heart.

Almost an hour had passed. When he returned to his skyscraper on Monday morning, the carpets better have been cleaned, or there would be hell to pay.

Bernie Madhoof took another sip of his juice and grinned. “Perfect.”

The streets below were his, all his. Soon enough, his network of annexation would extend farther, even beyond the West, even beyond Manehatten and Trottingham, even beyond Fillydelphia and Canterlot.

With his army having grown nearly forty additional soldiers today, King Orange had nothing to fear. In due time, his destiny would be realized, and he would rule over Equestria, using his legions of Knighted pawns to topple the four faux queens on the board. Even the frozen north would soon bow to him.

Never again would he be little Bernie Madhoof in the cabin in the woods. Never again would he be little Master Orange bowing to Madame Orange. Never again would he have one legitimate foal and an illegitimate one usurping his desires, standing in his way.

Bernie Madhoof’s only regret was that he had allowed that vagabond tramp, that despicable sack of pony flesh that had once shared a living space with him, to run, to live. He had been as weak as his pathetic excuse for a mother.

One day, the page would turn, and he would undo that mistake of his colthood.

Bernie Madhoof turned to his window again.

And then, his eyes widening in pure horror, he dropped the glass of orange juice, shattering it into a million little pieces on his white carpet.

~

With Apple Bloom by her side, Babs Seed rounded the Manehatten Hill for the first time as a mare.

The Orange Family Mansion—no, the Master’s Mansion, the den of the Manehatten devil—loomed to greet them, both black-cloaked stallions and Zebras posted around its perimeter.

The Colt rifle in her forehooves, Babs tightened her grip on its barrel and fired at a nearby guard on the perimeter at Detective White Dove’s command—her own flash of gunfire.

Squeezing the trigger, Babs galloped after the detective, after Officers Lucky Toss, Rustler, and Cotton, as they barreled towards the perimeter gates, shoulders lowered, hooves thundering, weapons steadied and firing.

Behind them, Card Slinger and Dodge led the last fragment of the Manehatten Kings and rushed with them, howling and screeching into the night as they sought siege on their Master’s castle.

When Toss, Rustler, and Cotton lowered their shoulders, the iron gates refused to budge. Dove cursed over the rain and charged, her own shoulder lowered.

Sharing one last glance with Apple Bloom—her last now, not her last ever, because they were going to make it out of this alive, oh yes they had to—Babs Seed lowered her shoulder with her mare and rammed the front gate again as the perimeter guards galloped towards them, as King’s Knights of all stripes poured through the front door of the Mansion.

WHACK!

The iron gate fell over, and the Manehatten Kings poured in.

A sea of ponies rushed past Babs Seed, their molars bared in snarls and growls, their eyes fiery with rage and bloodlust, their hindhooves pushing them forward, one step after another, as their forehooves fired wildly.

Catching her breath and steadying her hooves, Babs yelped as she was suddenly yanked forward. Grabbing her by the forehoof, Apple Bloom pulled her past the gates and into the Mansion’s front yard.

Dove and the other officers were rushing towards the door, firing shot after shot, toppling guard after guard as they challenged them at the front door. Babs Seed pulled off a shot at a nearby guard, missing. Card Slinger, right behind her, returned fire for fire, sending the same guard to grace green below with his red.

Dis is far too easy! There must be summat—

Looking over her shoulder, Babs Seed saw that, in spite of the midnight hour, there were lights in all of the windows of the surrounding mansions and estates. Hooves were stomping down their own stairs in time with the pouring rain.

And, something else.

On the other side of Manehatten Hill, coming the same way they had arrived, were the same twenty or so stallions who had been heading back to the tower. Along with them was another sea of ponies, all clad in black, headed by a black-and-white palomino stallion in a suit.

Behind her, Slinger cursed, “Eight Ball! Buck! Buckity fuck!”

Forty-seven seemed far smaller a number.

Focusing on the door ahead, Babs Seed kept Apple Bloom at her side, rushing after the officers towards the front door of the Master’s Mansion, rifles ready to fire.

Behind them, Card Slinger and his Manehatten Kings dueled with the guards, while the Manehatten Mafia and another pack of thugs headed their way.

Better move.

~

Applejack couldn’t believe her eyes.

Through the pouring rain, she gazed down at Manehatten while her own chariot began to pull her, Braeburn, and Big Macintosh closer to the awaiting concrete and cobblestone below. The city as a whole was a mere ocean of gray—nothing like the shining city she had visited once as a wayward filly in need of purpose. Apartment buildings, businesses, city buildings, all gray, gray, gray.

Except for one. In the middle of downtown Manehatten was a tower, stories and stories high—fancy mathematics was Big Macintosh’s forte, not her own—spiraling up towards the skies and pointed like a black dagger. High and foreboding, it stood far and above all else, demanding everypony come and bow before it.

In a chilling moment of recollection, Applejack remembered the black blade that had sliced open Babs Seed’s ear, and shivered. That was no ordinary tower.

She knew who built it before Twilight gasped and said over the torrential downpour, “That must be Madhoof's mansion…”

“No, Twilight,” Applejack answered slowly, leaning into the wind as the pegasi pulling her chariot descended towards the streets. “That’s not his mansion. That’s his tower. But it’s a stronghold, nonetheless.”

Flying beside them, Rainbow Dash shadowboxed, pummeling her forehooves in the air. “Pffft! One measly tower doesn’t scare me! This Bernie Madhoof doesn’t know what’s coming to him!”

All through Twilight’s explanation, the Elements of Harmony had been mostly silent, although less so than the Princesses. Once they allowed the truth to sink in, they responded in a similar manner as the alicorns.

They were ready to come after him. Not tomorrow, but tonight.

Twilight and Celestia had hashed through a possibility of spells on their way here. While sending Madhoof to the moon or sealing him in stone would deliver a more than fitting justice, if he was not a supernatural being like the spirit of Chaos or the Nightmare that had once possessed Luna, the Elements of Harmony would not be able to destroy him in the supernatural sense. Discord, Nightmare, and Sombra were spirits; if he was no spirit, the typical spell would do little more than stun him, as it would anypony.

There was another way, Twilight explained, and when she explained it, Applejack shivered.

Now, as the pegasi and batponies pulled the wingless Elements, Apples, and Royal Guards into Manehatten, using the train station’s platform as a landing strip, Applejack looked over to see the three mighty Princesses, wings flaring, eyes fiery, staring off into the heart of the city, the city that they had believed to be healing rather than dying.

Bracing herself when the chariot’s wheels touched the wood of the platform, Applejack closed her eyes and held tight, groaning slightly as Braeburn smacked his head into her shoulder.

“Sorry, cuz!” Braeburn muttered, struggling to sit upright.

Big Macintosh, his forehooves clinging to the side of the chariot, asked, “You alright, AJ?”

“As much as Ah can be!”

Twilight landed on her hooves beside Luna and Celestia, counting the chariots as they descended. Once all were present and accounted for,the Elements, Apples, and Guards began stepping out from them. Twilight quickly turned to Applejack. “AJ, do you think you can—”

The Captain of the Royal Guard pointed across the platform, where a beige stallion with a black mane was running towards them frantically, his eyes wide and wild. Holding up a forehoof, the Captain bellowed, “HALT! Who are you?!”

Braeburn jumped out of his chariot, shouting, “Turner?!”

The stallion shouted back, “Braeburn?! What are youze doin’ heeya?!”

Applejack’s eyes widened. Having yet to meet the stallion in the flesh, she now came face-to-face with him. The stallion rushed up to the platform before the Captain of the Royal Guard stopped him, using his spear to block him from progressing forward. She rushed over and took in the sight of the stallion, realizing that, for the first time in her life, she had met Babs Seed’s father.

“Yer Turner?” Applejack asked, although she knew the answer already. From muzzle, to mane, to hooves, he was Babs Seed’s father, and unmistakeably so.

Turner looked from the mare to the large, red stallion beside her. “An’ youze must be Applejack an’ Big Macintosh."

“You know him?” the Captain asked, backing off.

“Let him through!” Stepping aside to meet him, Braeburn asked again, “Turner, what are ya doin’ here?”

Shooting the Captain a glare, Turner joined the Apples and replied, “I asked youze first. What are youze doin’ wit’ all these guards an’ Pri—”

Jaw dropping, Turner stopped, then looked over to see the alicorns of day, night, and magic calmly staring back at him, their manes and wings still flowing and flared in spite of the rain.

Before Turner knew what he was doing, he bowed deeply, almost prostrating himself prone on the soaked floorboards of the platform. “Y-Y-Youze M-Majesties! Fo—forgive m-me, an’ old, foolish s-stallion—”

“It’s alright, Mister, er, Turner." Twilight gestured for him to rise. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m lookin’ fo’ ma daughta!” Turner rounded on the Apples. “Have youze heard from her o’ Bloom? I got dis bad, bad feelin’—”

“Ooh, like my Pinkie Sense!” Pinkie Pie hopped over to the stallion, throwing a forehoof around his neck and yanking him towards her, making him grunt. “Like, sometimes I get this weeeeeird feelin' in my tummy, or my tail starts a-twitchin’, or my eyelids start flutterin’, or—”

Applejack shoved a forehoof in Pinkie’s mouth again, flushing as she glanced over at Turner. “Er, sorry ‘bout that. Um, not that we really have time fer proper introductions, but this here’s Pinkie Pie, the Element o’ Laughter.” Who doesn’t know when ta quit, she thought with a somewhat-endearing groan.

Turner raised both eyebrows, taking in the entire scene. The Elements of Harmony. Three of the four Princesses. Royal Guards of both factions standing before him, almost a hundred total. The dread in his stomach churned further, acid amplifying to fire. “E-Elements, too? What are youze all doin’ heeya? What's goin' on?”

“Ya know a pony by the name o’ Bernie Madhoof, Turner?” Applejack asked.

Turner paled.

Braeburn nudged Applejack in the side, then whispered something in her ear. When the stallion pulled away, Applejack, wide-eyed, mustered a sheepish smile towards Turner. “Eh, heh, s-sorry. Braeburn, er, shoulda told me that befo' we got here. Eh... heh..."

Shaking out of the pit in his stomach, Turner said frantically, “Nevamind dat! I’m lookin’ fo’ Babs an’ Bloom! Have youze seen ‘em? I have dis feelin’, dis feelin’ dat summat’s goin’ on, an’ I left Appleloosa, Brae—” he shot a glance towards him—”because o’ it, I have a feelin’ dat—”

Removing her forehoof from Pinkie's mouth, Applejack’s eyes widened. “Wait a darn minute! Braeburn came ta Ponyville ‘cuz o’ Madhoof, an’ we went ta Canterlot ‘cuz o’ Madhoof, an’ you, Turner, came ta Manehatten ‘cuz o’—”

In the far distance of Manehatten, a sound, carried by the wind through the rain, reached those at the platform.

Gunfire.

Immediately, Turner spun around, his suspicions confirmed. The police station had been locked, abandoned. No sign of Apple Bloom, Babs Seed. The streets had been empty… And so, he had returned here, hoping to find a patrolling officer, at least a train-guard…

Instead, he found all the bastions of Equestrian power, and put two and two together.

Without warning, Turner took off as the shots rang out, louder, louder. Applejack hurried after him, then Big Macintosh, then Braeburn, then the rest, wings and hooves leaving chariots behind.

Turner, breathing deep, looked over as Applejack galloped beside him. “I, I think—”

“Ah’ll lead the way,” Applejack said, as boldly as she could, her heart beating a frantic drum in her chest.

They were heading to Manehatten Hill, the Orange Family Mansion, the stronghold of Bernie Madhoof.

Hopefully, she and Turner’s shared, unstated fears were incorrect, and they would find Babs Seed and Apple Bloom somewhere far away, sleeping, secure, safe.

~

Through the haze of smoke and lead, Apple Bloom and Babs Seed followed behind the Manehatten police officers towards the front door of the Master's Mansion. Apple Bloom had one forehoof on the trigger, her eyes darting all around them, her breath rapid but sufficient enough to sustain her through the madness.

In the front yard of the Mansion and its surrounding gate, the gunfire grew louder, rising in tempo and volume with the shouts of the oncoming King’s Knights. Apple Bloom heard Card Slinger curse as he reloaded, rolling into some bushes, dodging the shots that sent his hooves dancing. Manehatten Mafia and Manehatten Kings met again, a third of the latter now siding with the enemy and shooting against them.

Right in front of her, Detective White Dove shoved the butt of her rifle into a Zebra stallion’s muzzle, pushing him out of the way and onto the floor. Only the six of them had made it to the door so far. Card Slinger, Dodge, and the forty others continued to exchange trigger for trigger in the front yard and gardens, attempting to stem the tide and flood of oncoming evil.

Through it all, Apple Bloom fired, fired, reloading as fast as she could, raising her rifle when somepony aimed towards one of the officers, or, worse, her fiancee.

Her proposal, however sudden and unexpected and, truth be told, odd it was, was one that she had made with every intent of fulfilling. They would be coming home tonight, hopefully in one piece.

As they pushed their way past the front steps and into the Mansion, a raucous shouting rang out from above.

The stallion she had once known as Uncle Orange screamed out past a pair of mahogany doors at the top of another set of stairs, “Get them! Get them, you worthless swine! Secure it! Secure your King’s Castle!”

Beside her, Babs Seed visibly paled, her forehooves trembling as she squeezed off another shot towards a charging stallion. The shot missed, the stallion veering to the left.

BANG! Officer Rustler, his rifle smoking, popped a round into the approacher, only to have him replaced by another.

Quick as she could, Apple Bloom scanned the first floor. What had once been a living room with couches and chairs, bookshelves and lamps, was nothing but a storage area for chess sets of every material, size, color…

“What the fuck is wit’ dis bastard an’ chess?!” Officer Lucky Toss yelled, taking aim at a stallion at the top of the stairs.

Apple Bloom whirled around to see Babs Seed galloping after Toss, Dove, and Rustler as they raced towards the opposite set of stairs. She followed as fast as she could, seeking to keep pace with her mare, even as the hoofsteps of the Mafia behind them drew closer to their protective Kings, even as more guards poured from Madhoof’s office on the second floor and began shooting down towards them, even as Babs pulled her out of the way as a wayward bullet whizzed pass them, even as it sizzled in the floor where she had just stood.

Wanting nothing more than to vomit, or scream, or cry, or be anywhere but here, Apple Bloom gritted her teeth and called up something deep and ancient within her, something Applejack had told her about years and years ago, something that no city and its concrete and darkness could take away.

Calling upon Earth pony magic, Apple Bloom pulsed her energy through the rifle in her forehooves, took aim at a guard, and fired.

~

Get them! Get them, you worthless swine! Secure it! Secure your King’s Castle!”

The two guards beside his door galloped out of the room, as did the guards stationed in front of his bedchamber doors, his bathroom doors, his doors to and in all his rooms on the second floor of his Mansion.

King Orange bellowed a war cry and returned to the window, watching as lights and lamps flickered on all around his beloved Castle. Manehatten, his bride, was awakening, stirring for her stallion as he called upon her.

Eight Ball and his army marched up from the Hill and made their way past his broken gates, past the tangled roots of his upturned gardens, past the divide between holy and unholy, King and all else.

Normally, he would have screeched in fury to see that black-and-white bastard and his half-assed gang enter his territory, but when he saw them exchange bullet for bullet with the traitorous Card Slinger and his pathetic Manehatten Kings, he couldn’t help but let a smile follow his roar.

The day of reckoning had come. King Orange had expected somepony to try, but not so soon—not this soon.

The streets of Manehatten would soon run red with rivers of blood. Blood of the Manehatten Kings, of Card Slinger, of that delinquent detective and the three other officers who accompanied her.

Of Babs Seed and Apple Bloom, the mares from the West, the mares from his mawkish past, whom he had asked his pawns to spy upon, and would have waited until they were at their most vulnerable for him to strike, for him to strike and capture them, bring them to his side of the board, and then destroy, destroy so deliciously in the privacy of his Castle, make them sing and then make them scream.

That plan was inapplicable now. Or was it?

Laughing to himself, King Orange reached behind his bookshelf of chessboards and grabbed his secret weapon.

Colt, the manufacturer of the steel and lead that gave him so much power, had created this beauty especially for him. The most high-capacity rifle ever created, it purred at his touch, lying back in warm welcome for its Master as his forehooves found its grip and safety, then its trigger.

“Let them come!” King Orange declared, holding his rifle steady as he stood up on his hindhooves beside his desk. “Let them come! Let them come and try to dance with a King!”

All around him was gunfire, booming and rhythmic, punctuated only by the tempo of the rain on his roof, his windows, his streets.

King Orange threw back his mane and laughed, laughed, laughed, as Manehatten descended into darkness, chaos, armageddon, as the foal he should have smothered in her sleep fired shot after shot below him, rising with full intent to kill him.

“Let them come! Let them come! LET THEM COME!”

~

Lowering her shoulder and the butt of her rifle, Babs Seed rammed at the guard on the stairs, pushing him aside. Fueled by the fumes of the last adrenaline in her engine of a heart, she stomped and scrambled up the stairs, booming shots echoing and ricocheting all around her.

In front of them, Cotton, Dove, Rustler, and Toss formed a four-way machine of destruction, rifles and pistols firing at the oncoming onslaught of guards emerging from every room on the second floor of the Mansion. Beside her was Apple Bloom, who had fired her weapon several times, just as many times as Babs herself, though, in the speeding rush of bodies, she was the more accurate. Babs Seed found few cacti in the sand up here.

All around them was the rising tide of hoofsteps and bullets, the Manehatten Kings and Manehatten Mafia spelling out the terms of their warfare as both grew closer and closer to the other. Shouts of curses and pained cries from both filled her ears, the air thick with the sickening scent of gunsmoke and blood.

“Go! Go! GO!” Dove shouted, smacking another guard between the eyes with her hot kiss of lead. Shuffling her hooves, she scampered to the top of the stairs, leading them closer to the mad-stallion raving and ranting inside the office on the opposite end of the stronghold.

Rushing up, Babs Seed felt her hindhooves reach the top of the stairs just as Card Slinger called out, ”Retreat! RETREAT! Dey gainin’ on us!”

Buck!

Spinning around, Babs Seed ensured that Apple Bloom was at her side before she sought cover in the corner beside the stairs. Pressing her back against the wall, she fumbled in the pockets of her borrowed uniform for another magazine, her rifle spent.

“Babs!” Apple Bloom tugged at her sleeve, pointing down. “Look!”

There, in a tidal wave of lightning hooves and storm-weathered muzzles, Card Slinger and the last of his Manehatten Kings entered. Only ten Kings. Sixteen of them in total now. Following closely behind old King Crazy and his minions was a sea of ponies cloaked in black, rifles, shotguns, and pistols blazing.

Toss ran over to the far corner of the second floor, calling out, “Hurry up! Hurry up! Retreat! RETREAT!”

Dropping the magazine, Babs Seed fumbled and burst to her hooves after him, Apple Bloom by her side. While Cotton, Rustler, and Dove galloped up ahead to meet him, Babs threw her spent rifle to the ground, grabbing a pistol from its holster instead.

Gotta get out! Out! Inta one o’ the rooms! Dey’re comin’! Dey’re gainin’!

BOOM! BANG! BANG! BOOM! BOOM!

The unrepentant gunfire grew louder, closer, the battle between Kings and Mafia having been brought from the yard to the first floor, and now coming up the stairs, hooves pounding so frantically against the floorboards, and in less than a minute they went from having the upper edge to being outnumbered again.

Right behind her came Card Slinger, his forehooves wrapped around his trusty pistol, his black eyes flickering with cold fire—black flames in the night, in the growing, rising moonlight.

Time slowed, seemed not to matter now, as Card Slinger, in one rush of righteous, vengeful energy, galloped past the rest of them.

Once he rounded the corner, two more guards burst from the bedroom door next to Madhoof’s office, raised their weapons, and began firing at the six become seven, Eight Ball and his Mafia calling up after them.

Babs Seed, Apple Bloom, Card Slinger, and the officers became the middle piece of iron between the hammer and anvil, the final remaining plank squeezed in the growing pressure of the vice.

~

By hoof and wing, the Princesses, the Elements of Harmony, the Royal Guard, the Apples, and Page Turner rounded the top of Manehatten Hill, the fliers among them descending from upon high like angels in the moonlit night.

Turner’s eyes widened in abject, absolute, utter horror.

Shrieking like rats in the alley, ponies, some cloaked in black, wrestled and shot at each other in the front yard past the open iron gates declaring Orange Family Mansion. Weapons raised high, shotguns, rifles, and pistols both, the warring factions of hooves and steel filled the air with gunsmoke and gunfire, burning lead and booming steel.

Turner grew deaf as the gunfire continued, and when he saw an orange mare with a red-and-pink mane galloping past a second-story window of the Orange Family Mansion, he became blind to everything else.

“BABS!”

Mind wiped blank, Page Turner took to his hooves towards the iron gates, towards the Orange Family Mansion, towards his daughter in danger as the warring factions of gun-slinging ponies drew closer to that open door of that terrible artifice, drew closer to her, and in these moments, he knew nothing anymore, no fear and no reason, knew only to run and save her.

Suddenly, Turner was yanked backwards, held up in the sky. Thrashing, squirming, he lowered his shoulders and muzzle and rammed the impenetrable barrier, charging with all his might.

Applejack shouted below him, “Twi, let him go!”

“Applejack, he’ll be killed!”

“LET ME GO!” Turner bellowed, snapping his eyes open. The Princess of Magic herself had him encased in a telekinetic grasp, and still he struggled, flailing and screaming, “MA DAUGHTA IS IN THERE! BABS! BABS!”

“Yer Highness, let him go!” Sheriff Braeburn Apple raised one of his pistols and pointed it towards the Mansion. “Ma cousins are in there! We gotta git ‘im out befo’ y’all—”

Without warning, Big Macintosh, his shoulders lowered, charged towards the iron gates, snorting hot steam, a bull seeing nothing but red, red, red.

Twilight released Turner from her magic in surprise, dropping the stallion down to the concrete with a groan. As soon as he shook himself back into action, Turner galloped off again, Braeburn following after him.

Applejack panicked, “Wait! Wait! Mac! Brae!”

Before she could start after them, Twilight grabbed Applejack in her magic next. “No! We need the Elements to stop Madhoof!”

“Apples don’t abandon FAMILY, Twilight!”

Lowering Applejack beside her, Twilight assured, “They’ll be fine! I promise! Please! Get beside me!”

Princess Celestia commanded the Royal Guard, “Soldiers! Secure the perimeter! Subdue the fighting and arrest everypony! Only use weapons if necessary!”

Princess Luna rose up into the sky, calling out into the darkness in her Royal Canterlot Voice, “BERNIE MADHOOF! COME OUT AND SURRENDER!”

While the Royal Guards rushed towards the iron gates and the battle of bullets in the gardens and front yard outside, Princess Twilight called through the haze of gunfire and rain, “Elements of Harmony! Stand beside me!”

~

Card Slinger pulled the trigger twice.

BOOM! BANG!

Both the stallions fell backwards. Pushing their bodies aside, Card Slinger reached the office of Bernie Madhoof, charged towards those mahogany doors, stretched out his forehooves and pistol, and leapt.

CRASH!

Sailing through the air, King Crazy broke past the barrier of the open doors, thrust them wide open.

And met Bernie Madhoof’s rifle.

POP! POP! POP!

Howling in agony, Card Slinger stumbled backwards, three shots shredding his shoulder blades. The laughing, smirking Madhoof trained his rifle on him as he fell down into the threshold, a flickering darkness dancing behind his eyes, cold fire burning brightly in the dim light.

“I have longed for this day, little colt… The day that we would settle this, stallion-to-stallion… Or, rather, stallion-to-worm…”

Bleeding profusely, Card Slinger breathed heavily, hearing not the hoofsteps of the oncoming officers, of Babs Seed and Apple Bloom, of Manehatten Kings and Mafia, but only Bernie Madhoof’s own breathing in time with his.

When Madhoof thrust the barrel of his rifle down towards him, Slinger grabbed it, yanked, and pulled the stallion down to the carpet along with him.

THUD!

Madhoof screamed as he landed flat on his belly, scrambling to his hooves. Slinger grabbed the rifle and raised it, aimed it against the temple of the sack of slime who had murdered his parents, and—

BOOM!

Jumping back, Slinger narrowly avoided the shot, releasing Madhoof from his hooves. From the stairs, Eight Ball laughed mercilessly, his pistol smoking. “Surrenda, Slinga! We’ve got youze surrounded!”

~

Babs Seed slammed her back, along with Apple Bloom’s, against the wall when Card Slinger kicked the doors in. Looking over, she saw that the tide of stallions charging through the front doors and towards the stairs of the Orange Family Mansion had yet to stem.

Certain that she had had a heart attack or two by now, Babs Seed somehow managed to peel herself from the wall as Officer Cotton charged past them, heading towards the doors Slinger had just opened.

Detective White Dove, Officer Lucky Toss, and Officer Rustler headed back towards the stairs, firing their weapons at the rising tide of swarming Mafia, the screaming, shouting scum and vermin oozing their way towards the stairs.

Apple Bloom grabbed her forehoof and pulled her from the corner, from the rising tide of Reaper’s scythes hurrying their way. “BABS! We gotta move! We gotta move o’ they’ll get us!”

“Hurryin’, Bloom! HURRYIN’!” Babs shouted back, scrambling from the corner.

The few Manehatten Kings perched at the top of the stairs couldn’t hold the Manehatten Mafia back anymore. While the last guard appeared to have died by Card Slinger’s pistol, the Mafia itself seemed limitless. Even with Dove, Rustler, and Toss’s firepower, it might not be enough.

Dodge was long gone, Cotton was galloping towards the office, Card Slinger was surely dead, and Babs Seed and Apple Bloom had nowhere to go.

Burning their candle from both ends would end in only one way. They had to face the true danger head-on. They had to do what they had come here to do.

They had to sever the root.

Swallowing hard, Babs Seed ran faster, faster, the distance between their hiding-place in the corner and Bernie Madhoof’s office growing evermore further.

Resounding gunfire and thickening gunsmoke flooded her ears and nose, leaving only her darting eyes. She clung to Apple Bloom’s forehoof, galloping after her, turning when she did, and—

Came muzzle-to-muzzle with Bernie Madhoof.

Card Slinger laid face-down on the floor beside the desk, bleeding, unmoving. Officer Cotton laid beside him, pooling blood from two wounds on her chest.

Apple Bloom and Babs Seed had galloped straight into his hooves.

Madhoof chuckled, raising his rifle and pointing it straight at Babs Seed. “Well, well, well… This is a lovely family reunion, don’t you think?”

In response, Apple Bloom raised her pistol and fired two shots.

Laughing, a darkness flickering behind his eyes, Madhoof easily jumped aside, then threw his rifle to the floor.

As both mares’ breath and hearts caught in stunned shock in their chests, Madhoof reached forward and grabbed Apple Bloom, squeezing his forehooves around her neck.

Slamming Apple Bloom against the wall, Madhoof leaned in close, breathing hot and slow over her muzzle, whispering, “No need for a gun. This shall be far more satisfying.”

“DROP HER!”

Babs Seed grabbed her pistol, raised it high, and pulled the trigger.

Nothing. Spent. No time to reload.

Panicking, flailing her hindhooves, Apple Bloom struggled to push his forehooves away. Started to turn blue.

“DROP HER! DROP HER O’ I FUCKIN’ SHOOT YOUZE!”

Throwing the useless gun aside, Babs Seed drew her second pistol, raised it high, and pulled the trigger.

Nothing again.

Madhoof tightened his grip, watching with delight as Apple Bloom began to squirm, a worm in his hoof, a twitching salamander—

Throwing the gun down, Babs Seed sprang forward, her hooves outstretched.

WHACK!

“AAARGH!”

Madhoof released his grip as he fell backwards. Apple Bloom crashed back down on the floor, gasping, wheezing, heaving for breath, before she passed out.

On the floor, Babs Seed pinned her forehooves to his chest and looked down, fire in her eyes as she met the darkened eyes of Bernie Madhoof.

The closest she had ever been to the stallion she once called father, and all she could see was herself reflected back in him.

Madhoof grinned, reached up, and punched her square in the jaw. Babs Seed groaned but returned the gesture, stomping hard between his flanks. Howling, Madhoof thrashed and bucked, using all his might to flick her off him.

THUD! Smacking her head against the nearby wall, Babs cried out in agony, seeing stars. For a moment, her world was black, nothing but the drumming of the rain on the roof and the relentless gunfire filling her ears.

When Babs Seed opened her eyes, Madhoof was reaching for Cotton’s duty pistol nearby, staring her down. She rose to her hooves and growled, only to be rewarded by a swift, hard kick of iron hindhoof to her back.

“AAAAAAAAH!”

Babs Seed screeched as Madhoof’s hindhoof came down hard against her spine, pressing her into the carpet, sending the hottest and, by far, worst pain imaginable proliferating through her, quaking the Earth beneath her hooves.

Standing up, Madhoof loomed over her, then stomped the same spot where he had kicked her.

Screaming again, Babs Seed felt something slip, a severe, hot, shooting pain spreading through her limbs, worse than Card Slinger's blade, worse than the bullet in her shoulder, worse than anything she ever felt. Tears leaked from her eyes as she laid prone on his carpet, unable to move.

Grinning that grin, smiling that smile, Madhoof brought the pistol down and pressed it, cold and metallic and uncaring, against Babs Seed's temple. He whispered to her as he steadied his grip near the trigger, speaking in a loving tone towards her for the first time in her life.

“I should have smothered you when you were a foal in your crib. I should have, but I didn’t, and look where that’s gotten me, Babs Seed…”

Raising her head, Babs Seed looked up into the eyes of Old Scratch himself, into the abyss of Tartarus, into the visage of the Most Low on Earth, and whispered back with a low growl, “Yes, youze should have, Uncle Madhoof...”

In his split-second pause of horrified, stunned, wide-eyed silence, Babs Seed tested her hooves, found that she still had feeling in all four. Apple Bloom was coming to beside her, breathing deeply, her pistols still strapped to her her shoulders. If she could just reach out and—

"AAAAAAH!"

Madhoof screamed.

Babs Seed looked up.

Card Slinger, bleeding in buckets but alive, slammed the stallion against his mahogany desk, wrestling the pistol from his hooves. The gun fell from Madhoof's grasp and slid under the desk. Grabbing a paperweight, Slinger brought it down against Madhoof’s face, roaring, “Die, die, DIE, YOUZE SON O’ A BITCH!”

~

Flashes of magic intermingled with those of gunfire as the Royal Guard began to secure the perimeter, slapping hoof-cuffs over those they could, firing bullets at those they couldn’t. While they preferred capture to gunfire, they could only take so many chances, restoring to their spears or guns when orders or stunning spells failed. No unicorn alive knew killing magic; the only three who knew it were the alicorns gathered outside the iron gates.

Twilight lit her horn, enveloping it in a gaze of purple light, then reached out towards Madhoof's Mansion, focusing. If the danger within was supernatural, her magic would return to her white. If it was not, it would return to her black.

Focusing on her runes, on the ancient arrangement of letters that formed this sacred spell, Twilight Sparkle reached through her magic towards the smoke-filled building, searching frantically, passing over bodies both alive and dead, weapons both full and empty, climbing with her magic up a set of stairs, across several hallways, through an open door, and—

Twilight’s eyes shot open, the spell returning to her.

Her aura was black.

“Princess Celestia! Princess Luna!” Turning towards them in the air, Twilight pointed up at her horn. “M-Madhoof, he’s—he’s no supernatural monster! That means we… we…”

Princess Celestia called out to the Royal Guards, “Into the mansion! Get everypony out! If Madhoof fights you, LEAVE HIM BEHIND!”

Princess Luna bellowed out again in the ancient voice, “THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING, BERNIE MADHOOF! SURRENDER OR BE DESTROYED!”

Shouting down to the Elements below, Twilight ordered, “Hang tight, everypony! We can’t cast the spell until everypony is out!”

“What spell, Twilight?!” Applejack yelled back frantically, every passing second spiraling her closer and closer to giving in and retrieving her brother, sister, and cousins herself.

“One that I feared I would have to use…” Twilight shouted towards the Guards, “Hurry! Get everypony out! Get everypony out!!”

Applejack shouted after them, “Git ma brother! Git ma sister! Git ma cousins! GIT THE APPLES! GIT ‘EM OUT!”

~

Slinger raised the paperweight again. A hindhoof stomped back between his flanks.

Screeching in agony, he released the paperweight, then fell backwards, bleeding, battered, and bruised. Above him, Madhoof was rifling through the drawers of his desk.

Across from him, Babs Seed weakly struggled to her hooves, falling down on her stomach when she cried out in pain. Apple Bloom was coming to, breathing fast but deep, color slowly returning to her muzzle.

Clutching at his crotch, Card Slinger rolled to his side, panting, everything tightening to a tight ellipse, blood running down his chest and shoulders, leaving deep stains on the snow-white carpet…

Madhoof spun around on his hooves and raised the dagger high in his forehoof.

The black dagger.

Card Slinger's dagger.

Time slowed. Madhoof brought the blade down, brought it down between almost five years of enslavement, almost three years of complete and total control of Manehatten, almost eight years of hell unleashed.

Madhoof brought the dagger down and stabbed Card Slinger in the stomach, embedding the blade deep into his abdomen.

Eyes and mouth open in torturous horror, Card Slinger stared up as Bernie Madhoof laughed, laughed, laughed, cackling and whooping and belly-laughing as the cold arrived, came crashing through his hooves, freezing up his torso, towards his chest, towards his heart—

Boone’s words echoed in his mind again, ”I see dem, Card Slinga… Youze parents… An’ dey say… Salt an’ fire fo’ us all—”

His heartbeat slowing, his breathing becoming heavier, Card Slinger reached down the last drops of his strength, reached down and wrapped his forehooves around the black blade’s hilt, the blade now tainted with his own blood as well as Babs Seed’s.

And, as Madhoof’s eyes slowly widened, and his laughter slowly ceased, Card Slinger called upon that last bit of magic in him, that last shrivel of memory from the desert, and lurched forward, the dagger raised.

The blade embraced Bernie Madhoof in the chest, stabbing deep into his heart.

When steel met his blackened blood, the same darkness that had shifted behind Bernie Madhoof’s eyes wavered, flickering like a flame, a candle in the wind.

And then, as Bernie Madhoof’s blood intermingled with that of Babs Seed and Card Slinger, he fell forward, landing on top of his attacker.

Blood pooling from above and below him, Card Slinger drew in a sharp breath, shoved Bernie Madhoof off him, and closed his eyes.

The light was bright, warm, welcoming, taking hold of him, saving him from the cold.

"I see dem..."

~

In the haze of her nightmare, Babs Seed raised her head up from the floor to see her father, Page Turner, followed by Big Macintosh and Braeburn. All three were covered in blood, some that was their own, some that was not. All three were injured, wounded, limping, covered in bruises, scrapes, cuts, bullet grazes, bullet holes.

The three stallions, one of whom carried a smoking pair of pistols, surrounded her and Apple Bloom, muttering amongst themselves. Babs Seed couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, though she could see that Apple Bloom was fully awake, although weak.

Before she could comprehend what was happening or try to speak, Turner was slipping his neck and body under her, lifting her onto his back. Her hooves clung to him instinctively—something that made all four ponies around her sigh audibly. For what reason, she didn’t know.

All she knew was pain, a haze of excruciating fire spreading from her sore back and spreading all throughout her. By now, she wasn’t aware of the noises her lips made, but she could tell from the others’ reactions that none of them were good.

Turner whispered to her, words that were unrecognizable but comforting. Then, he looked over his shoulder at his brother on the floor.

Through the haze of her dream, Babs Seed watched Turner move beneath her, trot over to Bernie Madhoof, and bring his forehoof over his wide-open eyes, closing his eyelids.

Turner said something after that. Whatever it was, it sounded sorrowful, even guilty.

Slowly, Turner joined the other two stallions and trotted out of the office as Babs Seed clung to his back, while Big Macintosh, carrying Apple Bloom, followed beside him. Braeburn brought up the rear, wielding both pistols in his forehooves.

Down below on the second floor was a sea of bodies, mares and stallions and some in between, in black, in blue, in everything in between. More officers had responded, it seemed, only to be gunned down. More Mafia had, too, and other servants of Madhoof. The carpets, hallways, and both staircases were a sea of scarlet. Babs Seed tried not to look too much.

At the end of the hallway and by the top of the stairs stood, Officer Lucky Toss, a bandage of cloth over one of his eyes, which was already stained and dripping crimson. Officer Rustler laid on Detective White Dove's back, appearing barely alive, both of them bleeding profusely from several different wounds.

There were others there, too—Royal Guards, Babs Seed realized with a snicker, parading around in their golden and purple armor, mares and stallions of all races, even batponies, something she had never seen with her own eyes beforehoof. The Royal Guards were carrying ponies on their backs or pushing them forward with their hooves. All of their wards were hoof-cuffed, some of them still shrieking, squirming, swearing.

Dove, Toss, and Rustler said something to Babs Seed, but she didn’t understand.

Turner and Big Macintosh were climbing down the stairs now, led by the officers and the Royal Guards. When Babs Seed looked over to the enormous red stallion, she saw Apple Bloom, beautiful as ever, even in the dark and among the dead, staring at her, talking to her, her lips moving, though no words came.

Finally, somehow, something broke Babs Seed's world of silence:

“Ah love you, Babs Seed.”

Coughing, Babs Seed reached down deep inside herself and mustered, every syllable adding to her pain, “I love y-youze too, Bloom.”

Babs Seed didn't know why, but it felt right that they said it in that moment, as if there was some significance there, some sort of mysterious meaning. In spite of everything, she found that it felt right, somehow, in some way that she couldn’t even comprehend, much less articulate.

Across the bridge of the stallions’ backs, one belonging to her cousin, the other belonging to her fiancee’s father, her soon-to-be-uncle, Apple Bloom stretched her forehoof out to Babs Seed.

And Babs Seed crossed that distance, that momentous distance, and held her forehoof, held her forehoof as Turner carried her out of his deceased brother’s mansion, held her forehoof as they stepped across the divide between the past and future.

~

Once Babs Seed, Apple Bloom, Turner, Big Macintosh, Braeburn, the remaining police officers, and the rest of the Royal Guard—carrying or leading those criminals who had come willingly—filed out of the Mansion, Twilight declared, “Elements, focus! Direct the source of your own magic towards reaching out with mine!”

Straining, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, and Fluttershy closed their eyes and called upon the most ancient and primal part of themselves, the most concentrated source of their breath and blood as magical beings.

Lighting up her horn, calling upon the ancient runes she had learned long ago that sparked all unicorn might, Rarity guided her magic to touch Twilight’s beam of purple magic emanating from her horn.

Applejack and Pinkie Pie, calling upon the deep, ancient magic of Earth ponies, reached past the barrier of the city's concrete and drew their power up from below their hooves, focusing on giving that power to Twilight’s own.

Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, stretching their wings high, focused on the rush of thermals and the power of flight, channeling the ancient pegasi magic towards the beam of piercing, purple light above.

Princess Twilight Sparkle, her adrenaline soaring with magical energy as the other Elements added to her power, closed her eyes, then opened them. Her eyes glowing pure white, she willed her beam of magic, endued with each color from each of the Elements, up towards the Heavens.

There, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, focusing on their own magic, channeled a beam each of golden and dark-purple light, meeting it with Princess Twilight’s high near the throne of Galaxia. Their eyes, too, glowed white, as all three alicorns concentrated on the most forbidden and powerful spell of all.

And then, in a heartbeat, released it.

This magic, charged with life and light, arched and dived downwards towards the burning Orange Family Mansion, towards the Castle of King Orange, and struck, a meteor crashing the Earth, the epicenter of an earthquake, the eye of the storm spreading, the blaze of a wildfire overtaking all evil it touched and incinerating it in the wink of a god's eye.

The killing spell was blinding, a flash of pure, holy white light seen throughout Equestria, from the Frozen North to the Badlands far south, from the teepees of the Buffalo and the balconies of Canterlot, from Heaven and Hell and Earth itself.

~

Babs Seed, lying on Turner’s back, looked up just in time to see the Master's Mansion, a prison of black rising against the blue of the twilight atmosphere, wavering and flickering in the torrential downpour of the staccato rain, become engulfed in pure, holy, all-encompassing white light.

Closing her eyes, Babs Seed cried out one more time in agonizing pain, everything slowly fading away from her… Memories of tower, and police station, and mansion fading away, disintegrating…

When she opened her eyes, there was no more Orange Family Mansion, no more Bernie Madhoof.

The killing spell left only a smoking crater in the ground where the source of all this evil once had been, everything ground to dust. Besides the crater, the orange tree that had been planted almost thirty years ago snapped in two. The rain stopped.

Babs Seed looked up at Apple Bloom. Prying her tongue, thick and dry, from the roof of her mouth, she croaked with the utmost effort, “It’s… It’s ova, Bloom.

“It’s finally ova.”

Apple Bloom held Babs Seed’s forehoof tighter as Page Turner and Big Macintosh carried them past the broken gates. “It’s gonna be alright, Babsy. Ah’m here. It’s gonna be okay.”

Sniffling, tears rolling down her cheeks, Apple Bloom whispered, “It’s gonna be okay… We made it, sugarcube we made it…”

Her eyelids feeling heavy, Babs Seed stared up into the eyes of her mare and whispered again with great strain, “I love youze, Apple Bloom.”

Her voice cracking, Apple Bloom whispered back with shining eyes, able to cry at last as the words flowed like melodious music through her ears, “Ah l-love you t-too, Babs S-Seed…”

Leaning her head back, Babs Seed looked up to the Heavens as she had always loved to do, looking up at the stars, shining so brightly, many new ones becoming a part of tonight's night sky.

On her father’s back and in her mare’s grasp, Babs Seed closed her eyes.

The final root was severed at last, and she needed to rest.

Slipping into the hooves of the Sandmare, Manehatten rested with her.