"This is going to be the best Hearth's Warming Day in history!" exclaimed Discord, leaping into the air and sliding across the ground as bursts of confetti exploded in his wake.
"It's the Festival of the Two Sisters Day..." murmured Spike without much enthusiasm, walking behind him. Big Mac was by his side.
They were in one of the open courtyards of Canterlot's royal castle, the place they had chosen as their meeting point to celebrate what was once the Summer Sun Celebration.
"Minor details, Spike. What really matters is that the three of us—the best group of friends in all of Equestria—are going to have the best holiday ever! Hurray!" declared Discord with a wide grin, suddenly appearing behind them and wrapping them in a hug that felt more like an octopus attack.
"Ee-yup," replied Big Mac, in a tone slightly more assured than usual.
But, unlike their chaotic friend, Spike didn't share the same enthusiasm.
"Well... it's very nice of you to be this excited about our gathering, Discord, and that you're also being unusually inclusive with us today, uhmmm..." Spike said with clear suspicion, before shifting his expression to one of frustration. "Although... I don't know if I can feel the same way as you right now. No, not after they canceled the Ogres & Oubliettes tournament we were supposed to compete in this afternoon at the last minute."
Still hugging them, Discord didn't seem too affected. He let go of his friends and, turning to Spike, declared with a carefree gesture:
"Oh, dear Spike, what a terrible shame! I know. But it doesn't matter. Today is a special day for everyone! Aren't moments like this meant to leave worries behind and embrace unique experiences with friends?"
"Well... that's true, Discord, but—"
"But nothing! Let's head to the fair and have the time of our lives! Nothing in this world can stop the train of our friendship!" he proclaimed to the sky and, with a snap of his fingers, in the blink of an eye, his body transformed into a bizarre living locomotive—with a face, horns, and green smoke puffing from the sides.
It was, without a doubt, a very bizarre means of transportation. No one could blame Spike for hesitating before getting on. However, Big Mac, with his classic "Ee-yup," stepped forward without hesitation and entered the train of flesh and fur.
"Oooh! That tickles!" Discord squealed, writhing as he felt the heavy steps of the farm pony inside him.
Spike, still outside, barely concealed his look of disgust at Discord's exaggerated expressions. However, seeing that Big Mac was already casually chatting with the draconequus and, surprisingly, nothing too "Discord-ant" had happened yet, he decided to climb aboard as well.
With a snap of his fingers, the group of friends—aboard the train-Discord, making lively locomotive noises—vanished in a flash of light, heading toward their next destination...
[---]
A soft, relaxing melody, repetitive yet fresh, filled every corner of the place...
The Grand Canterlot Fair of Wonders was in full swing. Ponies of all sizes and colors moved through the cobblestone streets, marveling at the dazzling attractions offered by the various stalls. Some displayed perplexing living room furniture, seemingly designed for the sole purpose of evoking an enigmatic aesthetic. Others showcased books of magic and fantasy written in forgotten languages, collections of armor and weapons for the more adventurous, and even elegant clothing tailored for species that were practically nonexistent in Equestria. Every corner of the fair held a different oddity, immersing visitors in a world of wonders and curiosities.
Chosen by Discord as the first stop on his friendship crusade that afternoon, the location had proven to be perfect.
For Spike, strolling through the fair was far more entertaining than he had anticipated. Though it wasn't his first time visiting, it was the first time he explored it alone with his friends. Their antics made everything even better. Like earlier, when a group of rope vendors had caught Big Mac's attention, challenging him to a knot-tying competition. To everyone's surprise (except the vendors), the sturdy farm pony lost. Watching Big Mac, with all his size and strength, struggle to untie a small pink rope knot between his hooves was exactly what Spike needed to recover the good mood he had been lacking that morning.
As they walked among the stalls, Spike proudly pushed a cart nearly full of the strange acquisitions he had gathered. Beside him, Big Mac walked in silence, still examining the treacherous rope that had bested him—which he had ended up buying out of sheer stubbornness.
With Twilight by his side, he never would have had the chance to spend his money so freely.
"Wow, look at that! Now that's an elephant-sized horseshoe," Spike exclaimed, pointing at a massive horseshoe displayed at a blacksmith's stall.
"Ee-yup," Big Mac confirmed, snapping out of his fixation on the rope.
"Umm... do you think if we paint it gold, Twilight might want it for the throne room?"
"Nope," Big Mac replied with absolute certainty.
"Yeah, you're right... but it would look awesome as a decoration in a living room. Wait... I got it! Fluttershy's birthday is coming up soon. If I give it a more artistic touch, it'd make the perfect gift. She'd definitely love it if I coated it in silver. Or... should I cover it in wool? Hmm... Discord, what do you think about a gift for Fluttershy's birthday? An elephant-sized horseshoe covered in silver wool... Discord?"
Spike and Big Mac looked around, finally realizing that Discord was no longer with them.
He hadn't been for several minutes...
"Where's Discord?" Spike asked, surprised by the draconequus's absence.
Discord, who had been entertaining them with his antics since they arrived at the fair, had vanished without a word. That was unusual, as he always made his exits known. Moreover, he had been surprisingly well-behaved that day despite his chaotic nature and long history of mischievous behavior. He had even given them gifts, like the caramel apples they had already eaten and the cart Spike was now pushing.
All of this was starting to form troubling signs in the young dragon's mind.
"Mm-hmm," Big Mac grunted gravely in response to Spike's question. Without another word, he pointed his hoof toward the path they had come from.
Spike immediately understood what his friend was suggesting.
"Good idea, Big Mac. Let's head back the way we came—maybe Discord found something interesting we missed," said Spike in a slightly more optimistic tone, pushing aside his worries. Maybe he was just overthinking things...
"Ee-yup," the large stallion replied. Without further words, the two friends retraced their steps. They weaved through the fair's streets, dodging passersby and once again marveling at the exotic oddities scattered here and there.
After stopping several times to scan their surroundings and wait for the dense crowd of ponies to pass, they finally reached the center of the fair—the very spot where they had first arrived, thanks to Discord's magic.
"Do you see him anywhere?" Spike asked, standing atop the piled-up rare items in his cart.
"Nope," Big Mac replied, scanning in different directions.
Taking hold of his cart, Spike moved away from Big Mac and headed toward the northern part of the fair, where they hadn't yet explored.
"Maybe he went looking for exotic food?" he wondered aloud, not caring if anyone heard him. That part of the fair was mostly dedicated to selling foods from other kingdoms, in addition to the traditional meals and drinks for the general public.
Still unsure whether to go or not, Spike stopped near a lamppost, carefully observing the other sections of the fair that remained unexplored.
A soft, relaxing melody, repetitive yet fresh, continued to envelop the atmosphere.
Then... a shiver ran down his spine.
"But... what?"
Spike couldn't help but grimace at the strange presences just a few meters ahead. Still surprised by his discovery, he rubbed his eyes and, driven by an inexplicable curiosity, stepped closer for a better look.
It was a chilling sight.
On the other side of the fair's center, at a lamppost similar to the one he had just been near, a large number of figures hung in the air, suspended from clotheslines that resembled gallows.
"Get your Fantasy Puppets here! Unique in all of Equestria! A gift your spoiled ones at home will surely appreciate!" cheerfully proclaimed an elderly brown-coated pony tending the stall.
But far from looking like simple toys, those puppets evoked a sense of horror at first glance. Disproportionate in shape, some were missing limbs or mutilated, others had exaggeratedly realistic expressions, and many seemed to exist solely to feed the morbid curiosity of those who gazed upon them. They were not gifts for children or ordinary adults, but rather for individuals with dark and sinister tastes.
As Spike closely observed the figures, he couldn't hide his disgust. But that disgust twisted into a knot of dread when, upon stepping closer, he confirmed what he had noticed from a distance.
Many of the puppets bore the appearance of ponies he knew. Friends and acquaintances. Loved ones.
Among the hanging figures, between the twisted faces of old enemies and the distorted expressions of his former Ponyville neighbors, 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 had saved the day more than once.
The Mane Six were there, represented as delicate dolls. They gleamed with the colors and silhouettes that made them unmistakable, but their expressions completely contradicted the memories Spike held of them.
With eyes closed and mouths sealed, the puppets of his friends reflected sadness and pain on their delicate porcelain faces. Dark stains marred the fabric that simulated their skin, as if they had endured a terrible battle. Among them, at the center of that macabre scene, one figure stood, desperately embracing the others as if trying to shield them from a world crumbling around them.
Twilight Sparkle.
Of them all, she seemed to display the greatest anguish. Her wings showed signs of having been violently damaged, her horn bore fine cracks, and her expression conveyed such profound suffering that it was impossible to ignore.
A painful knot formed in Spike's chest. The feeling was so unpleasant that it nearly made him nauseous, accompanied by a chilling premonition of doom.
Big Mac, who had caught up with him, let out a grave "Uhmm" as he took in the scene.
Amid a time that seemed to have frozen. And an endless fairground melody that continued playing. Finally, the young dragon reacted.
"Who the heck did this?" he exclaimed indignantly, leaving behind his confusion and giving way to his anger.
Big Mac, in response, pointed with one of his large hooves at an empty seat nearby. There, where the old puppet vendor had once been, only a sign remained with a message that read:
"Gone to the bathroom. Back in a few hours. Sincerely, Quusnecodra."
The nonchalance only fueled Spike's fury.
"Are you kidding me? Quusnecodra? Who is that? I don't remember any Quusnecodra on the fair's participant list. This isn't even an authorized selling spot. Who does this guy think he is?" Spike exploded, almost breathing fire through his nostrils. The whole puppet ordeal had put him in an awful mood.
In a fit of anger, he reached out to grab one of the nearest puppets by force.
"Bip-bop-bip-bop..."
"Ahhhh!" Spike halted his claw mid-air. A chill ran down his spine, this time with such intensity that he immediately jumped back.
"Bip-bop... bip-bop... bip-bop..."
"Uhmm?" Big Mac grunted, frowning at Spike's reaction. The dragon remained frozen in place where he had landed after his jump.
"Big Mac, do you see that?" Spike asked in a high-pitched, nervous voice, not taking his eyes off the pile of puppets.
Both sharpened their hearing and sight. There, among the toys and wires, something was cautiously moving, emitting a metallic, artificial sound. Neither Spike nor Big Mac could clearly distinguish its form, but the sensation of being watched was undeniable.
Among the loose cables and wooden limbs swaying in the wind, two small glowing yellow lanterns stood out like the eyes of a predator lurking in the darkness.
"What is that?" Spike murmured, feeling an even deeper chill as he realized the hostile presence watching them.
Then, a gust of wind shook the hanging puppets, making them sway to one side and briefly revealing what was hidden. The filtering light uncovered a polished, metallic, and shiny surface. An indecipherable silhouette, distorted by the blinding reflection of the sun's rays. But despite the lack of details, it was evident that it was a sentient being—one that should not and could not be disturbed.
Spike and Big Mac took another step back upon recognizing it.
What was something like that doing in this place? Was it the guardian of the puppets abandoned by their owner? Or was it something else?
The strangeness of the situation heightened Spike's anxiety. He felt, almost with certainty, that if they didn't leave soon, something bad would happen to them.
"Maybe we should just leave this and go somewhere else..." Spike murmured, not taking his eyes off the puppets.
"Ee-yup," Big Mac confirmed with the same certainty.
Both friends began to cautiously move away, wary of that unsettling presence. However, just as they had taken several steps in the opposite direction, they saw 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, handing him a letter immediately.
"Joe? Wait... what? Uhmm..." Spike didn't even have time to greet the newcomer. As soon as he heard the word "emergency" and felt the weight of the letter in his claws, his surprise turned into focus... and then into panic.
This couldn't be true. What he had just read made no sense. When had all of this happened?
He read the letter again, this time more carefully, feeling his stomach tighten.
"Attack on the Ponyville-to-Canterlot train... emergency meeting at the Royal Palace... Celestia and Luna in charge... and this was already an HOUR ago!" Spike shouted, rising into the air and drawing the attention of those around him. "Why didn't I get this sooner?!"
The soldier shrank under the dragon's furious gaze and Big Mac's stern expression as he watched him.
"We're sorry, young counselor, but we couldn't find you sooner due to certain inconveniences at the fair," the guard responded in a tense tone.
"Inconveniences? You could have used the emergency speakers to call me!" Spike snapped, his frustration growing.
"That's the problem," the soldier explained. "The entire emergency system of the capital is down. Communication lines, both physical and magical, are broken. None of the messengers we sent outside have returned so far." His voice lowered, as if trying to contain his own anxiety and prevent the ponies around them from panicking.
Upon hearing such terrible news, Spike remained floating in the air, in shock, motionless like a rock suspended in the wind.
Around him, the fair's music continued to play—soft and relaxing, repetitive yet fresh... as if mocking him.
[---]
A brief moment later...
Spike shot out of the fair like a projectile, soaring through the air as fast as his dragon wings would allow. Within seconds, he disappeared from sight, flying straight toward Canterlot's Royal Palace.
Behind him, on 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 be happening.
However, oblivious to the commotion, the royal guard soldier who remained at the scene watched with growing unease.
"Yes… I suppose that should do something for now..." he muttered, furrowing his brow, visibly concerned.
Almost immediately, artificial sounds shattered the tense silence behind him.
"Bip-bop-bip-bop..."
The soldier (previously identified as Joe), who until then had maintained the composure of a true royal guard, turned around 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 the emotions consuming him also reshaped his being, turning him into a serpentine figure, an impossible amalgamation of different creatures.
To the astonishment of the ponies still lingering nearby, the soldier vanished within seconds, leaving in his place a far more imposing presence.
Discord, the very Lord of Chaos, stood tall in all his extravagant glory. However, unlike his usual theatrical entrances, this time he wasn't seeking anyone's attention. He didn't even care that others were present.
He had other priorities.
"Are you coming out already, or do you need a formal invitation?" Discord asked, his tone somewhere between mocking and serious.
Before him, a screech of clashing gears erupted from the shifting pile of marionettes. Among the wooden bodies and tangled strings, a mechanical figure emerged with precise, calculated movements.
Soon, a blinding silhouette stood firm for all to see.
"Bip..."
Golden horns, gleaming claws, a long segmented tail that shimmered in warm hues, and most strikingly, a pair of glassy eyes radiating a hypnotic yellow glow. Its form was unmistakable.
"...bop."
It was a dragon—small and childlike, yet with an appearance that defied convention. Its body was composed of polished metal plates, assembled with almost artistic precision. Every part of its design seemed to strike a delicate balance between the mechanical and the organic, with visible gears embedded in its joints and luminous patterns tracing its structure. Its skin reflected the colors of its surroundings, shifting between pearlescent whites and metallic sheens depending on the angle of the light.
Its wings, instead of simple membranes, were made of articulated pieces and finely engraved structures, resembling a fully functioning clockwork mechanism. Its long, flexible tail emitted a faint glow as it moved with calculated rhythm. An enigmatic golden clock adorned its chest, its hands spinning erratically, as if its very existence were tied to a time beyond this world...
Without hiding anything of its true nature, it took a few steps forward and stopped, keeping its cold gaze fixed on its target.
"Your... ho-hobbies are as unusual... a-as you are, Lord of Chaos," it spoke through mechanical stutters.
Discord shrugged.
"Friend things. You know how it is, Vim."
"I don't know," it replied without hesitation.
"Anyway... back to what we were discussing. What were you saying about your sister's plan...?" Discord asked, casually biting into a caramel apple while keeping his full attention on the midnight emissary standing before him.
A few minutes later... the revenge of the Knights of Order began.