"This is going to be the best Hearth's Warming Day in history!" Discord exclaimed, leaping high and sliding across the floor as confetti bombs burst in his wake.
"It's Festival of the Two Sisters Day..." Spike muttered without much enthusiasm, walking behind him, with Big Mac at his side.
They were in one of the open courtyards of the royal castle of Canterlot, the place they had chosen as a meeting point to celebrate what was once known as the Summer Sun Rising Day.
"Unimportant details, Spike. What matters is that we three, the best group of friends in all of Equestria, will have the best holiday that three friends like us could ever have on a day like this. Hooray!" declared Discord with an ear-to-ear grin, suddenly appearing behind them and wrapping them in an embrace that resembled more of an octopus attack.
"Eeeyup" — replied Big Mac, in his usual confident tone.
At his side, unlike his chaotic friend, Spike didn't share the same enthusiasm.
"Well... it's very kind of you to get so excited about our get-together, Discord, and to be so inclusive with us today, uhmmm..." said Spike, narrowing his eyes with suspicion, then letting his shoulders drop in frustration. "Although... I don't think I can feel the same way you do right now. No, not after they canceled yesterday at the last minute the Ogres & Oubliettes tournament we were going to take part in this afternoon."
Still holding them in his embrace, Discord didn't seem too bothered. He released his friends and, turning to face Spike, declared with a carefree gesture:
"Ah, dear Spike, what a shame! I know. But it doesn't matter. Today is a special day for everyone! Aren't we supposed to leave our worries behind in moments like this and keep moving forward, living unique experiences with our friends?"
"Well... that's true, Discord, but..."
"No buts! Let's head to the fair at once and have fun like never before! For there is nothing in this world capable of stopping the train of our friendship!"
A snap of fingers echoed through the air and, in the blink of an eye, the Lord of Chaos's body had transformed into an outlandish living locomotive. A single-car train that retained his face and his horns, ready to depart while blowing intense green smoke from its sides.
"Ughh," Spike let out at the sight.
It was, without a doubt, a very peculiar-looking mode of transportation. No one could blame Spike for hesitating before boarding. However, Big Mac, with his classic "Eeeyup," stepped forward without a second thought and entered the flesh-and-blood train.
"Ooh! You're tickling me!" Discord shrieked, writhing as he felt the heavy footsteps of the farm pony inside him.
Spike, still outside, could barely conceal his expression of disgust at Discord's exaggerated grimaces. However, seeing that Big Mac was already chatting without trouble with the draconequus and that nothing too "dis-cord-ant" had happened yet, he decided to board as well.
With a snap of fingers, the group of friends (with the train-Discord making ambient noises) disappeared in a flash of light, heading toward their next destination...
[---]
A soft, relaxing music, repetitive but refreshing, filled every corner of the place...
The Grand Canterlot Fair of Wonders was in full swing. Ponies of all sizes and colors strolled along the cobblestone streets, captivated by the eye-catching attractions at the stalls. Sheltered under extravagant signs and unusual categories, the shops offered as much or more than a fussy collector could ever dream of.
Among the most common findings were objects of bewildering aesthetics, such as furniture whose only purpose seemed to be to spark curiosity. Other stalls displayed spellbooks written in forgotten tongues, accompanied by their respective promotional keychains. Nor could one ignore the enchanted armor for adventurers or the garments designed for species practically nonexistent in Equestria.
Among these and more, there were also stalls of the most mundane sort, like food stalls, or those that seemed to exist between both worlds, like the one selling fantasy marionettes...
Chosen by Discord as the first stop on his friendship crusade that afternoon, the place was perfect.
At the head of the stroll, Spike walked with spirit. It wasn't his first time visiting the fair, but it was his first without Twilight's supervision. And that changed everything. The antics of his companions made it even better. Like when, moments earlier, a group of rope vendors had challenged Big Mac to a knot-tying competition. To everyone's surprise — except the vendors' — the sturdy farmer ended up losing.
Watching Big Mac unable to untie a small pink knot between his hooves had been exactly what Spike needed to get his good mood back.
As they moved between the stalls, Spike, with head held high, pushed a cart nearly full of strange acquisitions. At his side, far less proud, Big Mac walked in silence, still focused on the treacherous rope he had ended up buying out of sheer stubbornness.
With Twilight around, he never would have had the chance to spend his money with such freedom.
"Wow, look at that! Now that's an elephant-sized horseshoe," Spike exclaimed, pointing to a large specimen on display.
"Eeeyup," Big Mac confirmed, snapping out of his concentration.
"Hmm... Do you think if we paint it gold, Twilight would want it in the throne room?"
"Nope," Big Mac replied with absolute certainty.
"Yeah, you're right... though it would look great in a hall. Wait... I've got it! Fluttershy's birthday is coming up soon. If I give it an artistic touch, it would make a perfect gift. I'm sure she'd love it if I bathed it in silver. Or... should I coat it in wool? Discord? What do you think about an elephant-sized horseshoe coated in silver wool...?"
There was no reply. Spike and Big Mac turned around, finally realizing the situation.
"Where's Discord?" asked Spike, looking around in puzzlement. Big Mac at his side did the same.
Indeed, Discord was not with them. He hadn't been there for several minutes now...
Discord, who had been cheering them on with his mischief since they arrived at the fair, had vanished without a word. It was unusual, since he always made his exits known. On top of that, his behavior that day had been quite out of the ordinary — cheerful, playful, orderly? He had even given each of them gifts as soon as they arrived: caramel apples (which they had already eaten) and the cart Spike was now pushing.
For all these reasons, the draconequus's sudden absence was suspicious. Worse still, it was a bucket of cold water for Spike, who had already gotten his hopes up for a magnificent afternoon among friends. With no complications of any kind. Doing guy stuff...
This incident was, in all likelihood, just another of the misguided schemes one could only expect from the unpredictable Lord of Chaos.
Although...
Spike scratched his head with one of his front claws.
Would he really do something like this after trying so hard? he thought, as his brows began to furrow. Discord had been taking photos with them, he had even sung them a song as soon as they arrived at the fair.
An uncomfortable feeling of worry began to burn inside the young dragon.
"Ahem," Big Mac interrupted his thoughts with a deep tone. Without another word, the burly pony pointed with a hoof to the path they had come from before.
Spike understood at once.
"Good idea, Big Mac. Let's go back the way we came. Maybe Discord found something interesting we didn't notice," he said with a more optimistic tone, burying his unease. Maybe he was just overthinking it...
"Eeeyup," the big pony replied. And with no more words, both friends retraced their steps. They zigzagged through the fair's streets, weaving past passersby and marveling once again at the exotic rarities that peeked out here and there.
After stopping several times to scan their surroundings and wait for the crowds of ponies piling up to pass, they finally reached the center of the fair, the very spot where they had first appeared upon arriving thanks to Discord's magic.
"Do you see him anywhere?" asked Spike, looking out from atop the odd items piled up in his cart.
"Nope," Big Mac replied, glancing in different directions.
Spike, taking his cart, moved away from Big Mac a little and walked toward the north side of the fair, a part they hadn't explored yet.
"Could he have gone for exotic food?" he wondered aloud, not bothering to check if anyone was listening. On that side of the fair, most stalls were dedicated to selling food from other kingdoms, along with traditional food and drink for the general public.
Still uncertain whether to go or not, Spike stopped by a lamppost. With a nimble push, he climbed to the top and surveyed the areas they hadn't yet explored.
From above, the music of the fair — enveloping and monotonous — kept turning in its endless loop…
Then, a shiver ran through his body.
While scanning the northern area, something caught his peripheral attention: a fleeting glimmer between the stalls, accompanied by a discomfort he couldn't explain.
"But... what?"
Spike couldn't help but pull a face when he noticed the strange presences just a few meters ahead of him. Still surprised by his discovery, he rubbed his eyes and, seized by an inexplicable curiosity, descended in flight to get a closer look.
It was a chilling sight.
On the other side of the fair's center, on a lamppost similar to the one he had been on before, a large number of figures hung in the air, suspended on lines that resembled gallows.
"Get your Fantasy marionettes! Unique in all of Equestria! A gift your little darlings at home are sure to appreciate!" a gray-haired brown-coated pony cheerfully called out from behind the stall.
But far from looking like simple toys, those puppets evoked a sense of horror just by looking at them. Disproportionate in shape, some lacked limbs or were mutilated, others had exaggeratedly realistic expressions, and many seemed to exist only to feed the morbid fascination of those who gazed upon them. They were not in any way gifts for conventional children or adults, but rather for individuals with dark and sinister tastes.
Spike, observing the figures carefully, couldn't hide his disgust: he wrinkled his nose and twisted his expression with revulsion. Soon his feeling of distaste turned into a knot of dread when, as he drew closer, he confirmed what he had noticed from a distance.
Many of the marionettes bore the likenesses of ponies familiar to him. Of friends and acquaintances. Of loved ones.
In the midst of the hanging figures, among the twisted faces of old enemies and the distorted expressions of his former neighbors from Ponyville, six presences stood out from the rest. They were the faces of his dear friends, the ponies with whom he had lived countless adventures and with whom he shared the bond of having saved the day on more than one occasion.
The Mane Six were there, rendered as delicate toys. They shone with the colors and silhouettes that made them unmistakable, but their expressions utterly contradicted the memories Spike held of them.
With closed eyes and sealed mouths, the marionettes of his friends reflected sadness and pain on their delicate porcelain faces. Dark stains dulled the fabric that simulated their coats, as though they had been through a terrible battle. Among them, at the center of that macabre scene, one figure stood with arms outstretched, holding the others in a desperate embrace, as if trying to shield them from a world crumbling all around her.
Twilight Sparkle.
Of all of them, she was the one who seemed to show the greatest anguish. Her wings bore signs of having been damaged, her horn showed fine cracks, and her expression conveyed a suffering so profound it was impossible to ignore.
A painful lump formed in Spike's chest. The feeling was so unpleasant it nearly made him nauseous, accompanied by a chilling premonition of doom.
Big Mac, who had caught up with him, let out a deep "Ahem" at the sight.
In the midst of what felt like stopped time, with the indifferent fair music playing in the background, the young dragon reacted.
"Who in Equestria made this?" he exclaimed with indignation, setting aside his bewilderment and giving free rein to his anger.
Big Mac, in response, pointed with one of his large hooves to a nearby empty seat. There, where the old marionette vendor had been sitting, only a sign remained with a message that read:
"Gone to the bathroom. Back in a few hours. Sincerely, Quusnecodra."
The nerve of it only stoked Spike's fury further.
"Seriously? Quusnecodra? Who's that? I don't remember any Quusnecodra on the fair's participant list. This isn't even an authorized spot for selling. Who does this guy think he is?" Spike exploded, nearly breathing fire through his nostrils. The whole business with the marionettes had put him in a very foul mood.
In a burst of anger, he stretched out a claw to forcefully grab one of the nearest puppets.
"Bip-bop-bip-bop..."
"Ahh!" Spike stopped the movement of his claw mid-air. A shiver ran down his spine, this time so intense he leapt backward almost immediately.
"Bip-bop... bip-bop... bip-bop..."
"Ahem?" Big Mac exclaimed, frowning at Spike's reaction. The dragon remained frozen in the spot where he had landed after his leap.
"Big Mac, do you see that?" asked Spike in a high, nervous voice, not taking his eyes off the pile of marionettes.
Both sharpened their ears and eyes. There, among the toys and wires, something moved with caution, emitting a metallic, artificial sound. Neither Spike nor Big Mac could make out its form clearly, but the feeling of being watched was undeniable.
Among the loose cables and wooden limbs swaying in the wind, two small bright lanterns of yellow light stood out like the eyes of a predator lurking in the darkness.
"What is that?" Spike murmured, feeling an even deeper chill as he became aware of the hostile presence watching them.
Then, a gust of wind shook the hanging marionettes, making them sway to one side and briefly revealing what had been hiding among them. The light that filtered through exposed a polished, metallic, gleaming surface. An indecipherable silhouette, distorted by the blinding reflection of the sun's rays. But despite the lack of detail, it was clear that this was a conscious being — and one that could not and should not be disturbed.
Spike and Big Mac stepped back even further upon recognizing it.
What was something like that doing in this place? Was it perhaps the guardian of the marionettes abandoned by their owner? Or was it something more?
The strangeness of the situation made Spike's anxiety grow. He felt, almost with certainty, that if they didn't leave soon, something bad would happen to them.
"Maybe we should drop this and go somewhere else..." Spike murmured, not taking his eyes off the sinister puppets.
"Eeeyup," Big Mac confirmed with equal certainty.
Both friends began to back away cautiously, wary of that unsettling presence. However, just as they had taken several steps in the opposite direction, they spotted a royal guard soldier running toward them at full speed from the other side of the fair.
"Young counselor Spike, thank Celestia I finally found you! We have an emergency!" the soldier exclaimed, immediately handing him a letter.
"Joe? Wait... what? Uhmm..." Spike had no time to greet the newcomer. He barely heard the word "emergency" before the weight of the letter reached his claws, and he found himself reading the document with full concentration.
Gradually, as he read on, the young dragon's eyes went wide. The paper began to crumple under the intense grip of his claws, and his breathing nearly stopped. The color seemed to drain from his scales by the time he finished reading the letter.
It couldn't be true. What he had just read in the letter made no sense. When had all of that happened?
He read the letter again, this time more carefully, letting the emotions reverberating from the pit of his stomach come through in his voice.
"Attack on the Ponyville-to-Canterlot train... emergency meeting at the Royal Palace... Celestia and Luna in charge... and this was more than an hour ago!" Spike shouted to the sky, rising into the air and drawing the attention of those nearby. "Why didn't I get this sooner?!"
The soldier shrank under the furious gaze of the dragon and that of Big Mac, who watched him with a stern expression.
"We're sorry, young counselor, but we couldn't find you before due to certain complications at the fair," the guard responded in a tense tone.
"Complications? You could have used the emergency loudspeakers to call me!" Spike shot back, his anger rising.
"Those are the complications," the soldier explained. "The entire emergency communication system in the capital is down. The communication lines, both physical and magical, are broken. None of the messengers we sent outside have returned yet..."
With each word, the soldier's voice grew quieter, as if speaking them cut off his breath. Between his slight stutter and nervous glance, it was clear how hard he was working to contain his own anxiety and prevent the nearby ponies from catching wind of such dire news.
In response, something clicked in Spike's mind. He stayed hovering in the air, still as a rock suspended in the wind. In shock, from the sudden understanding of what was about to happen...
Around him, the fair music continued, soft and relaxing, repetitive but refreshing... as if mocking him.
[---]
A brief moment later...
Spike shot out of the fair like a projectile, cutting through the air as fast as his dragon wings would carry him. In seconds, he had vanished from everyone's sight, flying in the direction of the Royal Palace of Canterlot.
Behind, from the ground, Big Mac followed with equal urgency.
Among the murmurs of local ponies, tourists, and merchants, confusion and unease spread like a wave. Everyone was wondering what could possibly be happening.
Yet, oblivious to the commotion, the royal guard soldier who remained in the place watched the scene with unease.
"Yeah… I suppose that should do for now...", he murmured with a furrowed brow.
Almost immediately, artificial sounds shattered the tense quiet behind him.
"Bip-bop-bip-bop..."
The soldier (identified earlier as Joe), who until that moment had maintained the bearing of a true royal guard, turned slowly. But his expression was no longer that of a stoic sentinel. His gaze sharpened with vicious hostility, his face twisted into a sour grimace, and beyond his countenance, his very body began to transform.
It was as if those emotions that had taken hold of him were also reshaping his being, turning him into a serpentine figure, an impossible amalgam of different creatures.
To the surprise of the ponies still nearby, the soldier vanished in a matter of seconds, leaving in his place a far more imposing presence.
Discord, the Lord of Chaos himself, stood in all his extravagant glory. Yet, unlike his usual theatrical appearances, this time he sought neither applause nor laughter. He didn't even seem to care that there were witnesses; his gaze, cold and calculating, remained fixed on a point before him.
The atmosphere around him shifted. The music, so persistent until then, seemed to fall silent at the same moment a wind — more of a sigh than a breeze — swept swiftly between the stalls of the fair, causing more than one spectator to turn in his direction.
Discord, not a single hair out of place, raised an eyebrow with indifference.
"Are you going to come out already, or do you need a formal invitation?" he asked in a tone that was equal parts mocking and grave.
Before him, a grinding of gears resonated from the tangle of marionettes shaking. Between the wooden bodies and tangled strings, a mechanical figure began to emerge, moving with precision and metallic coldness.
Soon, a blindingly bright silhouette stood firm in view of all.
"Bip..."
Golden horns, gleaming claws, a segmented tail that flashed in warm tones, and above all, a pair of glassy eyes radiating a hypnotic yellow glow.
"...bop."
It was a dragon. Small, childlike, but with a presence impossible to ignore. Its body of polished metal plates combined with precision the mechanical and the organic. Visible gears pulsed at its joints, while thin lines of light ran along its structure, reflecting pearlescent and steely tones depending on the direction of the shine.
Its wings, articulated and engraved like clock pieces, extended with a faint whir. Its tail, flexible, emitted a soft, rhythmic glow. On its chest, a golden clock turned with erratic hands, as if its very existence were bound to a time that did not belong to this world.
It took a few steps forward and stopped, keeping its icy gaze fixed on its target at all times.
"Your... pas-pastimes are as un-unusual... as you are, Lord of Chaos," came the sound between mechanical stutters.
Discord shrugged.
"Friend things. You know how it is, Vim."
"I don't," she replied without hesitation.
"Anyway... going back to what we were discussing before. What were you telling me about your sister's plan...?" Discord asked, biting into a caramel apple without a care in the world, while keeping his full attention on the midnight emissary before him.
[---]
A few minutes later... the revenge of the Knights of Order began.