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Chapter Text

As the blinding light of the Elements of Harmony slowly faded away, the magic that had lifted us off the stone floor began to weaken, and I could feel gravity taking hold once again. The warmth and sheer intensity of the spell drained from my body like water slipping through a sieve, and the next thing I knew, my hooves touched the ground—barely—before I collapsed onto my side, completely exhausted. My breath came in shallow gasps, my vision blurry from the overwhelming magic I had just channeled. My heart thudded in my chest, racing as if it were still trying to keep pace with the immense power that had just surged through me. Every limb felt heavy, as though I had run for miles, and my horn ached from the sheer effort of guiding the Element of Magic.

Around me, my new friends—no, my true friends—lay scattered across the ancient marble floor, every one of them breathing heavily, eyes half-lidded with fatigue. Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Rarity—all of them had stood beside me when I needed them most, even though we had only just met. I had felt it when the Elements activated: the spark, that indescribable warmth of connection, of harmony. It was real, and it was powerful. We had stopped Nightmare Moon. We had stopped the eternal night.

As I lifted my head weakly to look around, I saw it—each of them now wore a necklace, each gem glowing softly, resonating with a unique shape and color that seemed perfectly matched to who they were. Applejack’s was an orange apple, Rarity’s a purple diamond, Fluttershy’s a pink butterfly, Rainbow’s a red lightning bolt, and Pinkie’s a blue balloon. I stared, amazed, as I realized they hadn’t just used the Elements… they had become them.

I felt something pressing lightly against my forehead and instinctively raised a shaky hoof to touch it. My breath caught as I pulled it down and saw a tiara cradled gently in my fetlock, golden and elegant with a brilliant magenta starburst at the center—my cutie mark, the symbol of the Element of Magic. It felt unreal. I had tried to summon the Elements by myself… and failed. But with my friends beside me, something extraordinary had happened.

Suddenly, Rainbow Dash’s voice cut through the haze of fatigue. “We did it! We beat Nightmare Moon!”

I looked over at her, her wings splayed out behind her as she pushed herself to her hooves with a wide, victorious grin on her face. Her energy, though barely hanging on, was still infectious, and despite everything, I found myself smiling back at her. It hadn’t been just me. I was never going to succeed alone. But with them? With all of us together? We had done something incredible.

Applejack, steadying herself as she stood, gave a small shake of her head and said, “Well, I wasn’t too sure about all this ‘Element of Harmony’ business you kept goin’ on about, Twilight. But... looks like you were right after all.”

I was about to respond—maybe even laugh a little—when a new voice, warm and powerful, echoed gently through the chamber.

“That is because all of you are the true bearers of the Elements of Harmony.”

We all turned as one, our tired eyes widening, and there she was—descending from the sky in a radiant beam of sunlight, her wings spread wide and her mane flowing like a living aurora. Princess Celestia. My heart leapt into my throat, and without a second thought, I stumbled forward, my hooves gaining speed until I was galloping, tears springing to my eyes as I cried out, “Princess Celestia!”

She touched down gracefully, her smile serene and eyes full of pride as I threw my hooves around her and hugged her tightly. She chuckled softly, lowering her head to nuzzle me in return.

“You told me Nightmare Moon was just a fairy tale…” I whispered up to her, overwhelmed with questions, emotion, everything.

“I never said that,” she replied gently, her voice like warm sunlight. “I said not to worry about it… and to make some friends.”

Her gaze lifted, now growing serious, and for the first time since she arrived, I saw a shadow of sadness pass across her face. “Now… there is a pony I must ask forgiveness from.”

I blinked, confused, and followed her gaze—toward the place where Nightmare Moon had stood just moments before. The ancient stonework was cracked and scorched, the magic that had swirled so violently now long gone, leaving behind only silence and broken pieces of a nightmare. But… there was nopony there.

No dark figure. No remnants. Nothing.

Princess Celestia’s expression changed, her lips parting slightly as she took a slow step forward. I saw her pupils shrink slightly, her breath hitch in her throat as her wings fluttered once, uncertain. A terrible silence settled over us.

“Wait,” I murmured softly, “where is she…? The Elements should’ve banished her or something… right?”

But Celestia didn’t answer. Her eyes scanned the room with growing desperation, and then I saw something I never expected to see on her regal, composed face.

Fear.

And then… sorrow.

Her voice, when it came, was barely a whisper, trembling with heartbreak and something far deeper.

“Luna…?”

And I realized then… she was crying.

POV Ghost.

Pain.

That was the first thing. Before the light, before the sound, even before memory could piece together what the hell had just happened—there was pain. A deep, pulsing throb that started in the base of his skull and spread through the rest of his body like aftershocks from a goddamn earthquake. His head felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it, and for several long seconds all he could do was lie there, his breath shallow and ragged, confusion gnawing at the edges of his thoughts.

What… what the hell had just happened?

Bits and pieces started to float back to him—screams, gunfire, the thunderous crack of an explosion. Yeah. He’d been in combat. His team had been moving through the rubble of a war-torn street, and then—boom. An explosion. It had been close. Too close. He remembered heat. Pressure. Noise. Then nothing.

Shit.

If he’d taken a hit and survived, that meant one thing: he was probably in a hospital somewhere, hooked up to IVs and feeling sorry for himself. A groan escaped his lips—or at least, he thought it was his lips—as he muttered under his breath, “If I’m in a hospital, I swear to God I’m gonna be so pissed at myself…”

But then… something didn’t add up.

His eyes opened slowly, squinting against the soft glare of daylight. And above him was not a ceiling. Not fluorescent lights. Not a helicopter interior or even the inside of a medic's tent.

No.

It was the sky.

A vast, open sky painted in blue with wisps of cloud gliding peacefully across it. Birds chirped somewhere in the distance. Wind rustled leaves.

What the hell?

Adrenaline kicked in, hard. If the sky was above him… then he was outside. And if he was outside, he might still be in the field—still in danger. For all he knew, the enemy could still be nearby. Maybe he’d only been knocked unconscious for a few minutes. Maybe his squad was still out there, under fire, and here he was, lying flat on his back like an idiot.

He gritted his teeth, willing his body to move, forcing strength into his limbs. He needed to get up, needed to check his surroundings, maybe get eyes on friendlies or cover. Slowly, shakily, he pushed himself up.

And froze.

No.

No, no, no. Something was wrong.

He blinked, shook his head, tried again. But it didn’t change. It couldn’t change.

His arm—his goddamn arm—wasn’t his. It wasn’t human. It was covered in short, blocky black fur, the shape wrong in every possible way. There were no fingers. No glove. No skin. It ended in a rounded, heavy-looking hoof.

“What the fuck…” he whispered, his voice tight with panic, barely recognizing it as his own.

His pulse quickened, heart hammering now in real terror. He tried to stand up, instinctively trying to rise to his feet, to get his bearings, to fix whatever was happening—but the second he shifted, his balance betrayed him completely. He teetered, toppled forward, and landed hard on his face with a grunt and a spit of dirt and grass.

The pain barely registered. Panic had taken over now.

He turned his head, trying to look behind him, and what he saw nearly stopped his heart.

That body… it wasn’t human. It was shaped like a fucking horse. Or a pony. Four legs. Fur. A long tail, flicking slightly in the grass. His torso was broad, his frame compact and low to the ground. He didn’t even have clothes anymore—at least, not in the way he used to. What he did have was black tactical gear that somehow had adapted to this new, alien anatomy: dark combat pants that hugged around his haunches, a vest snug over his barrel, and a helmet still strapped on, but reshaped to fit this head.

This pony head.

No. No. No.

Dragging himself forward with his front legs—he couldn’t even think of them as arms anymore—he refused to try standing again, too afraid of what his own body might do. He spotted a river nearby, its soft babbling sound now maddeningly loud in his ears as he scrambled toward it like a wounded animal. His breath hitched. His legs shook. Every inch of him trembled as he reached the edge and peered over into the water.

And what stared back at him was… not him.

His reflection was that of a stallion—at least, that was the best word he could think of. The face was angular, equine, and striking in a way that sent a fresh jolt of horror through him. His fur was pitch-black, almost unnaturally so, like the color had been sucked straight from the shadows. His mane was just as black, short and unkempt, flopping slightly over one eye, and his eyes…

His eyes.

They were red. Not brown. Not green. Not the blue he used to see in the mirror.

A deep, crimson red that almost glowed in contrast to the darkness of his coat. They stared back at him, wide with disbelief, pupils trembling as if trying to reject the image entirely.

There was no cutie mark—he didn’t need to look at his flank to know. He already felt its absence, a blankness where something was supposed to be. A mark that others in this world wore like a badge of purpose… and he had nothing.

A low, choked noise escaped his throat. Half gasp, half growl. This wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a hallucination.

“What the fuck is happening to me…?”

Ghost stared down into the river, his reflection rippling gently across the surface as his wide, red eyes locked onto the foreign image staring back at him. For a long, agonizing moment—maybe ten minutes, maybe more, he couldn’t tell—he couldn’t do a damn thing but breathe fast and shallow, trying to process the impossible truth clawing at his brain. He was a pony. A four-legged, fur-covered, wide-eyed cartoon-looking pony. Not a human. Not anymore.

“What the fuck is going on…” he whispered again, his voice trembling as it left a muzzle he still couldn’t believe belonged to him.

The panic had come fast and hard, a surge of confusion and fear that had made it nearly impossible to think. He'd paced in circles—well, tried to. Mostly fell on his face, flailed, rolled, and swore a lot. But eventually, with deep breaths and a lot of internal screaming, he started to pull himself together. He was a soldier, damn it. Panic was fine—for a second. But staying panicked? That was a death sentence. And he’d already beaten the odds enough times to know that the first step to survival was getting your shit under control.

So, he did.

He took a breath. Another. Focused.

Then, carefully, he looked at himself again in the water—really looked this time.

Yup. Still a damn pony.

Black fur. Like, black black—no shimmer, no brown undertones, just the straight, shadowy black of night with a matching unkempt mane hanging slightly over his brow. Red eyes stared back at him from the reflection, glowing faintly in contrast, intense and sharp. He turned his head, watching the way his reflection moved with him. There was no mistaking it. This wasn’t some trick, some dream, some coma fantasy.

And what really threw him?

He recognized this style.

It wasn’t just a pony. It was that kind of pony—the kind drawn in soft curves and big expressive features, the kind that came from one of his guilty pleasures. He’d watched that show, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Yeah, it was meant for little girls. Yeah, it was pastel and cute and kind of ridiculous. But damn it, he’d liked it. The stories were good, the characters had heart, and it had gotten him through some rough nights. It wasn’t something he advertised in the field, but he’d never cared what people thought. He was a brony. So what?

Now here he was… staring at his own reflection… and seeing a pony that looked like he’d been drawn straight from that show.

“…No way,” he muttered, dragging a hoof back through his mane. “Am I actually…?”

He looked around slowly, taking in the forest surrounding him. The trees were tall, full of life, and unfamiliar. Birds chirped overhead. A river ran beside him. Everything was just a little too vibrant, a little too storybook-perfect. He narrowed his eyes.

“Am I in Equestria?” he asked aloud, the question heavy on his tongue.

But no. No. He couldn't jump to conclusions. He forced himself to shake his head, muttering under his breath, “Let’s not get carried away. There’s no proof yet. This could be anything. A hallucination. A dream. An experiment gone wrong.”

The forest didn’t answer.

He glanced down at his body again, noting the gear he still wore—his combat uniform had shifted with him, resized and reshaped to fit this strange new equine form. Black camo pants secured snugly around his hind legs, his vest was strapped tight over his barrel, and even his helmet was still there, somehow modified to fit the shape of his now-rounded skull and perked ears. No markings. No insignia. Just black on black. And aside from all that? A single weapon remained.

His combat knife.

Ghost gave a sharp breath through his nostrils as he checked it, still sheathed and secured where he could reach it. No rifle. No sidearm. No grenades. Not even spare mags. “Great,” he muttered. “At least I’ve got something.”

Honestly, it wasn’t the worst situation he’d ever been in. He’d survived with less. Hell, there were times in his training where he’d been dropped with just a compass and a canteen.

Still, if he wanted to stay alive, the first thing he needed to do was stop crawling around like a damn newborn deer. He needed to learn how to move in this body.

And that… that took time.

He had no idea how long he spent there, stumbling around, tripping over roots, falling on his face, cursing like a sailor every time his hooves slipped or crossed in weird ways. It was like trying to learn how to walk all over again, but with a completely different set of limbs and no manual to go with it. Eventually, though—through sheer stubbornness and a lot of creative swearing—he managed to stay upright for more than a few seconds. Then a minute. Then he could move without falling.

Wobbly. Slow. A little drunk-looking.

But he could walk.

And as he finally stood still for a moment, breathing hard, body sore and coated in dirt, he looked out at the trees with a flat expression.

“Fuck this day.”

Ghost was deep in thought as he stared down the length of the riverbank, the water rippling quietly beside him like it didn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, he had about a dozen problems tearing through his head. First on the list? He needed to find civilization—anything. A town, a village, even a shack in the middle of nowhere. Second, and pretty damn urgent, was food and water. The river solved one of those, at least. Clean, flowing water was a gift. But food? Yeah, that was going to be a whole new challenge.

He grimaced at the thought. Could he even eat meat now? He looked down at his flat, herbivore-shaped muzzle and clenched his jaw. Probably not. He didn’t know what this new body could handle, but he’d rather not find out the hard way by throwing up half a rabbit into the woods. No, for now, berries and plants would have to do. He’d deal with the rest later.

So, with a soft grunt and a glance at the position of the sun, Ghost started walking along the riverbank. His hooves crunched through the damp grass and soft dirt, and while his steps were awkward at first, he was getting better at this whole walking-on-four-legs thing. He didn’t know how long he walked—an hour, maybe two? Possibly longer. Time started to blur together. The sun sank lower with every step, painting the sky in orange and pink as it drifted toward the horizon.

At one point, he lucked out. A bush heavy with dark purple berries caught his eye. They looked safe—at least, familiar enough to be edible. He cautiously tasted a few, waited, and when he didn’t immediately keel over, he ate a handful more. It wasn’t much, but it’d keep him going for now.

But eventually, as twilight settled over the forest and the shadows grew long, Ghost knew he needed to rest. Sleeping on the ground? Hell no. Not in a forest, not when he had no idea what sort of predators might be wandering around. He needed high ground—preferably a tall tree with thick branches where he could wedge himself in and sleep lightly with one eye open. Soldier instincts didn’t go away just because he had hooves now.

So he stepped away from the river, moving deeper into the trees, scanning for anything suitable. And then… he saw it.

Something was lying in the grass ahead. A figure. Small, dark, and unmoving.

His body tensed immediately, instincts flaring. He crept closer, each step slow and cautious, ready to bolt or fight if it turned out to be something dangerous. But as he got close, his breath hitched.

He froze.

No fucking way.

There, lying in the grass like some dropped doll, was a pony.

But not just any pony.

His eyes widened. Long horn. Deep blue coat. A flowing, ethereal mane, though it was dim and faded. And even though she looked smaller than he remembered, younger, she was still instantly recognizable.

“Princess Luna…?” he muttered in disbelief, staring down at her unconscious form.

He blinked rapidly, his mind trying to keep up with what his eyes were telling him. That… that was Luna. But not as she was in later seasons. No, this looked like her right after she’d been freed from Nightmare Moon. Small. Vulnerable. Still regaining her strength. What the hell was she doing out here? Alone? In the middle of a forest?

And more importantly—how was he even seeing her?

The realization hit like a punch to the gut.

If Luna was here… if she was real and not some hallucination…

Then he was in Equestria.

Not Earth. Not a dream. Not purgatory or some PTSD-fueled fantasy.

Equestria. The real deal.

He sat down hard, staring at her in silence as the weight of that settled into his chest. He wasn’t going home. At least, not anytime soon.

“…Fuck,” he muttered quietly. “I’ll deal with that later.”

He knelt beside her—well, more like awkwardly folded his legs under him like some confused deer—and reached down to check her pulse. He had no idea how to do it on a pony, but he felt around her neck until he caught it. Steady. Alive. Breathing, too. No obvious wounds, no blood. She was just… out cold.

“Can’t just leave you here,” he muttered. “Not a chance in hell.”

With a grunt, he hooked his forelegs under her and tried to lift. It was awkward. Clumsy. His body wasn't built for this. Every movement felt like he was trying to lift with spaghetti noodles. And carrying someone else as a pony? Ten times worse than carrying a human as a human.

Still, he managed to hoist her onto his back—barely. It was a mess. Her legs dangled limply. His knees wobbled. He nearly fell over twice. But she was up.

And then reality set in.

There was no way in hell he was getting up into a tree with her on his back. He’d kill them both trying.

“…Fuck me sideways,” Ghost growled, slowly lowering her to the grass again.

Alright. Change of plan.

He wasn’t sleeping in a tree tonight.

Looked like he was pulling guard duty instead.

He sat down next to her, eyes scanning the darkening woods, knife close at hoof, muscles tense and ready. His back ached. His brain was fried. But he didn’t move.

He was a soldier. And a soldier watches over their wounded.

Even if that wounded happened to be the goddamn Princess of the Moon.

The sun was just beginning to rise, the soft light spilling slowly over the treetops like golden silk, casting long shadows across the forest floor and tinting the misty morning air with a hazy orange hue. The crisp chill of dawn wrapped around Ghost like a blanket of cold air, refreshing but not uncomfortable, and he let out a quiet, weary sigh. He’d been up all night, his eyes scanning the dark woods for any sign of movement, his ears straining to catch even the smallest sound that might hint at danger. But nothing had come. No beasts. No monsters. No timberwolves, manticores, or anything else this world might’ve decided to throw at him while he was playing bodyguard.

It could’ve been worse. A lot worse. It hadn’t even gotten unbearably cold, which was a damn relief considering he was now covered in fur but still didn’t know how well this pony body handled temperature.

Still, his stomach gave a quiet growl, a low protest at the lack of food. The berries from yesterday were long gone. Not that there were many to begin with. He’d have to forage again, and soon. The problem was, doing that would mean leaving Luna behind—unprotected, vulnerable, and still unconscious. That thought didn’t sit well with him. Even if she was a powerful alicorn—and she was—right now she was helpless. And leaving her alone in the middle of a forest? Yeah, no. That wasn’t going to happen if he could help it.

Just as he was mulling that over, he heard a soft sound.

A low groan, breathy and pained.

His ears perked immediately, head turning toward her, and sure enough, she was stirring. Princess Luna—smaller and younger than he remembered her looking in most of the show—was beginning to wake. Her body shifted slightly against the grass, and after a moment she slowly, unsteadily, pushed herself up, moving into a sitting position. Her movements were groggy, weak, like someone waking from a deep sleep after years in the dark, and her face… her face was marked by confusion. Her wide, teal eyes darted around the forest, taking in the trees, the underbrush, the faint haze of morning light filtering through the leaves. She looked lost.

And then, finally, her gaze landed on him.

She froze.

Didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just stared at him like she wasn’t sure if he was real or some half-forgotten dream.

Ghost didn’t move either. He just sat there, calm, quiet, letting her look at him, study him, try to process what the hell she was seeing. He didn’t want to startle her. Hell, he had no idea what kind of state of mind she was in. Was she still fighting off traces of Nightmare Moon in her head? Did she even know what year it was?

After a few seconds of silence, he finally spoke, keeping his voice low and even.

“You okay, miss?”

He paused for a beat, realizing he’d almost said her name. Bad idea. If he knew who she was, that would raise too many questions. Better to play dumb. Pretend he had no idea she was a princess, at least for now.

She blinked slowly at him, still disoriented, and then mumbled in a quiet, uncertain voice, “I… I am not sure. Where am I?”

Ghost shrugged casually, glancing around at the trees before looking back at her.

“Some forest,” he answered simply. “I was gonna ask you the same thing. I found you out here yesterday. You were out cold, just lying there. Lucky I found you when I did—could’ve been a bear or something else that found you instead. Who knows what would’ve happened then.”

He offered a small nod. “Name’s Ghost, by the way.”

Luna blinked again. She looked like she was still piecing everything together, like her mind was just barely catching up with her body. Then, almost too soft to hear, she whispered, “Wait… I am free? The Nightmare… gone?”

Ghost’s ears twitched at that, and he narrowed his eyes slightly, humming under his breath. That line hit him harder than he expected.

So she had just been freed.

That explained everything—the smaller frame, the confused expression, the fragile state. This wasn’t the Luna from Season 2 or 3. This was Luna right after the Elements had blasted Nightmare Moon off her. But something wasn’t adding up.

In the show, Celestia was the one who greeted her. She welcomed her back. They reconciled right there at the castle ruins. Luna was never alone in the woods like this. She didn’t just wake up in the middle of nowhere with no one around.

So why was she here?

Why was he here?

Ghost’s mind started turning, working through every possibility. Something had changed. Something had shifted. Either this wasn’t the same timeline, or events were being rewritten somehow. And if that was true, if this world wasn’t playing out like the show he knew, then he couldn’t rely on his knowledge to predict what would happen next. He’d have to stay sharp, stay aware, and be ready for anything.

For now, though, the priority was the mare in front of him.

He glanced at her again, her eyes wide, her breathing slow and uncertain. She was still processing everything. Still trying to believe she was even real. He knew that feeling.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Looks like you’re free. Whatever happened, it’s over now.”

And then he stood, brushing himself off with a quick shake of his body. “But we’ve got bigger problems. We’re in the middle of nowhere. I’m outta food, and I’m guessing you haven’t eaten in a while either. So unless you know how to teleport us to a castle or something, we’re gonna have to rough it for a bit.”

He offered her a faint, crooked smile. “Hope you’re not afraid of camping.”

Luna flinched, just slightly, the moment he spoke—when he quietly repeated that she was free. His voice hadn’t been loud, hadn’t been aggressive or suspicious, but it was clear he had heard her mumble, caught just enough of it to repeat it back to her. She hadn’t meant for anyone to hear that. Her first instinct was to pull away, to guard herself, but she stopped short, holding herself still and watching him closely. He didn’t look accusing. If anything, he looked concerned—genuinely, calmly concerned.

He didn’t know. Not really. He didn’t understand what she meant, not fully, not the depth of what she had been under, the things she’d done… the things that had been done to her. But for now, that was probably for the best. There was no reason for him to know the whole truth. Not yet. Not until she could piece her memories together properly and understand who she was again.

She shifted her gaze toward him and spoke with a quiet, composed tone, her voice still a little hoarse from disuse but firm with sincerity.

“Thank you… for helping me,” she said, then hesitated just a moment, catching herself before she added the title. She almost said Princess Luna. Almost. But she didn’t. Her lips froze around the word. And after a pause, she continued instead with a simple, “My name is Luna.”

And in truth… she wasn’t even sure the title still applied.

Nightmare Moon’s control had twisted her, broken parts of her mind and memory like dry branches, scattered everything into confusing pieces. There were gaps. Blank spots. Things she should remember clearly, but they were fogged, hazy, distant. She knew from experience—though how exactly, she couldn’t explain—that her memory would return, slowly, bit by bit, as she recovered. But for now, she wasn’t confident enough to claim any royal station. And besides… it was better this pony didn’t know who she really was. At least not yet.

Ghost simply gave a nod, his expression unreadable but calm.

“Nice to meet you, Luna,” he said.

She gave a small nod in return, her gaze briefly drifting to the side, thinking about the things he had said earlier. Teleportation. Being lost. Running out of food. And that quiet, dry remark about camping. That meant he didn’t know where they were either. He hadn’t just found her—he was stuck out here with her, just as disoriented. That was troubling. But also strangely comforting. At least she wasn’t the only one dealing with this mess.

She looked back at him again, her voice softer now, more thoughtful.

“I cannot teleport us,” she admitted, lowering her eyes briefly. “I… went through something. My magic is weak. Severely. I can barely feel it.” She clenched her jaw slightly in frustration, not used to this kind of vulnerability. “And I have no clue where we are.”

But then she lifted her head, determination blooming faintly behind her eyes.

“However,” she continued, “I can stand. I can walk.”

To prove her point, she rose from the soft grass slowly, legs wobbling for just a second before she steadied herself. She took a deep breath, inhaling the clean, earthy scent of the forest and the nearby river, and then exhaled with a quiet sense of calm as her hooves found balance beneath her.

“So we should go,” she said clearly, “and find food.”

She turned her head, and that’s when she saw the river again, the same one she’d missed during her disoriented awakening. The silver line of water glimmered faintly in the morning light, running steady and calm not far from them. It wasn’t much, but it was something. At least they wouldn’t go thirsty.

She turned back to him, meeting his eyes again. This time, her voice carried a faint touch of humor, the first spark of personality to peek through the dazed fog she’d woken with.

“As for camping…” she allowed the corners of her mouth to pull upward into a small, genuine smile, “I am not afraid of it.”

Her smile lingered for a moment longer, and her thoughts drifted backward to memories she couldn’t quite hold onto, fragments and faded sensations. She could almost picture her sister, clean and regal, disdainful of dirt and cold and bugs, whereas Luna herself had always been the one to charge into the wild, to sleep under the stars and not care about mud or ash in her mane.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that.

She hummed quietly under her breath as they began to gather their things, such as they were. Even weak, even disoriented, her mind remained sharp, ancient beneath the fog of recent trauma. She’d been alive for a long time. There was still knowledge buried in her, waiting to be pulled forward. And she would recover.

She would remember.

But first… they needed breakfast.

And a plan.

Ghost honestly didn’t care whether Luna called herself a princess or not—it wasn’t something that registered as important to him. The way he saw it, title or not, she was just another person who needed help, and he wasn’t about to treat her any differently for it. What mattered more was keeping her safe while she was this weak and disoriented. He glanced toward her and tilted his head slightly before speaking, his tone thoughtful, almost sheepish.

“So… uh, this might sound dumb, but I never really looked into it,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck with one hoof before gesturing with the other, “can we even eat meat?”

Luna blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question, but after a brief pause, she nodded with a calm, neutral expression.

“Yes. We can,” she replied, her voice steady despite the oddness of the subject. “We can’t eat a lot of it—not like griffons or dragons—but fish and small portions of meat are fine. Pegasi, in particular, tend to like fish. I’ve known a few who were especially fond of it.”

Ghost nodded, quietly relieved. That was good to know. The idea of trying to survive out here without at least some meat had been gnawing at him in the back of his mind, especially with how quickly the berries had run out.

“Good,” he said. “I hope you’re fine with that, then. If we can’t find anything else, we’ll have to hunt.”

Luna gave a small, almost indifferent shrug and answered plainly, “I’m fine with it. I know most ponies tend to avoid meat, or think eating it is barbaric, but I’d rather not starve.”

Ghost snorted lightly at that, a dry grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah… me neither.”

Without wasting another moment, he turned and started moving through the underbrush, keeping a sharp eye on the terrain as he walked. Before getting too far, he pulled his combat knife from its sheath and carved an arrow into the bark of a nearby tree, the edge of the blade biting through the wood in one clean stroke. The arrow pointed back toward the river. It was a simple but effective way to make sure they could retrace their steps if they had to. Getting lost out here, in the middle of nowhere, with a recovering magical being and no food, was a death sentence.

Luna, watching him as she stepped up to follow, raised an eyebrow slightly at the marking. It was… smart. Practical. Efficient. Not something most ponies would ever think to do, especially not in a situation like this. Her gaze lingered on the knife for a moment, and something about it made her uneasy. It wasn’t shaped like a common utility blade or a kitchen knife. No, this blade was built for something else. Its edge was designed to cut through more than just tree bark, and its matte-black finish told her everything she needed to know—it wasn’t for show. It was a weapon. Plain and simple.

As she trailed behind him, her eyes drifted over his entire form. She hadn’t had the clarity to really study him until now, but the more she looked, the more questions piled up. She had never seen gear like his before.

The armor he wore wasn’t like the polished gold or enchanted silver of Equestrian guard armor. It was dark—entirely black—and it looked utilitarian, every piece serving a purpose, no decoration or flourish. The fabric of his uniform was heavy, layered, clearly durable. His helmet sat low over his brow, and even though she couldn’t see his eyes from behind it, she could tell from the way he walked that he was constantly scanning his surroundings. His movements were deliberate and sharp, like someone who was trained to expect danger at any moment.

He didn’t move like a civilian. He didn’t even move like a Royal Guard. He moved like a soldier.

A real one.

The tail and mane, also black like the rest of him, only added to the stark, intimidating look. There was something… unsettling about how uniform his appearance was, like everything from the way he stood to the clothes on his back was designed to give off a message—one that said: “Don’t mess with me.”

And despite herself, Luna found her curiosity growing.

She couldn’t see his cutie mark—his clothes covered most of his flank—but even that was strange. Most ponies didn’t hide theirs. It was a matter of identity, of pride. Covering it was practically unheard of unless you had something to hide. Or unless you didn’t have one at all…

Her eyes narrowed slightly in thought. The more she learned about him, the more certain she became—this stallion was not normal. Not by a long shot.

But still… he had helped her. He had kept watch all night. He hadn’t tried to pry, hadn’t demanded answers or recognition. Just quiet efficiency and a calm, patient demeanor. That, at least, earned her trust for now.

She said nothing as they continued deeper into the forest, the sound of the river growing fainter behind them. The world was silent except for the rustle of leaves beneath their hooves and the occasional bird cry in the trees above. The morning sun filtered weakly through the canopy, casting long beams of gold across the mossy earth.

They would find food soon. She could feel it.

But more than that… she was beginning to realize that whatever strange, dark path had brought this stallion into her life—into this time—he might just be more important than either of them knew.

Luna walked in silence behind Ghost, her hooves making soft, almost inaudible taps against the forest floor as she studied the stallion before her with a mind full of thoughts that drifted and twisted like the wind through the trees. Her eyes lingered on the strange, dark gear he wore—its texture, its shape, the quiet clink of hardened fabric and buckles as he moved—and her brow furrowed slightly with a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

A thousand years. That’s how long she had been gone.

One thousand years lost to banishment and darkness, wrapped in the cold, suffocating grip of the moon and imprisoned alongside the voice of the Nightmare that had once consumed her. She hadn’t just been gone from her people, her sister, her kingdom—she had been removed from the very flow of time itself. And now, here she was, stumbling back into a world that had moved on without her, a world filled with strange clothing, stranger ponies, and technologies she could barely understand.

Perhaps this sort of gear Ghost wore was commonplace now—maybe the world had grown so dangerous or so advanced that ponies walked through the wilderness clad in armor like his—but… she doubted it. Deep down, something about him didn’t feel like it belonged. Not just to Equestria, but to anywhere she had ever known. Not even the most secretive branches of the Royal Guard ever wore something so shadowy and intimidating. And Celestia… Celestia would never allow such militaristic garb in her halls. It was too sharp. Too grim. Too... silent.

Then there was the color—black. Every inch of him. His gear, his mane, his tail, even the lack of a visible cutie mark, hidden behind shadowed fabric. It wasn’t just coincidence. It was deliberate. And she found herself wondering—was that the color of the place he came from? Was it some kind of symbol? Did it mean he belonged to something? Or… was it simply a preference? Something he wore not because it was assigned to him, but because it called to him?

And then, quietly, another thought formed—one that made her chest tighten just a little as she looked away from his back and instead glanced upward at the pale morning sky that filtered through the tree canopy.

Maybe… just maybe… he liked the night.

Her ears dipped slightly at that thought, a faint shadow of old sorrow creeping into her heart. Back then, before the banishment, her nights were beautiful, intricate, full of delicate stars and soft moonlight—but no one ever looked. No one cared. While her sister basked in praise for every sunrise, Luna toiled in silence, weaving constellations with no one to admire them, crafting soft dreamscapes that no one remembered.

The silence of the world had hurt more than words ever could.

That emptiness… that neglect… it was the kindling that had let the Nightmare in.

And even now, centuries later, she felt the echo of that pain… but she crushed it, buried it beneath the iron will she had sworn to rebuild. Never again. She would not allow that bitterness to take hold. Not now. Not ever again.

Still… as she looked back toward Ghost—this strange stallion draped in shadows, who moved like a phantom and spoke little—she allowed herself one small, quiet hope:

Maybe he liked the night.

An hour passed. They didn’t speak much as they wandered through the forest, the soft calls of birds and the distant rustling of leaves their only companions. But fortune, as fickle as it was, gave them a small reprieve—they found berries. Not many, but enough. Little clusters of fruit clinging to brambles, half-hidden among thickets and vines.

Ghost knelt wordlessly to gather what he could, his movements precise, economical. He barely touched the berries before deciding which were safe, which were not—likely from years of training, muscle memory doing the work even if his mind wandered elsewhere. Luna joined in, gathering her share with the grace of one used to delicacy, but not without effort. Her hooves trembled slightly. Her breaths were shorter.

By the time they made it back to the river, Ghost’s sharp eyes caught it instantly—Luna looked tired.

Not just a little tired. Not just worn from the walk. She looked drained.

And they’d only been out for an hour.

He crouched beside the river and took a slow breath, letting the cool air settle into his lungs as he looked up at the sun. Judging by its height, it had to be just past eleven in the morning—still early, yet Luna looked like she’d just walked for miles.

She needed more time. More rest. She wasn’t ready for anything major, not yet. He knew it. And he suspected she did, too.

He turned his eyes toward her as she quietly ate a few berries by the water’s edge, her posture slouched, her eyelids low. She looked so tired, so fragile beneath the strong image she tried to maintain.

And as he stared, a cold thought crept up his spine like a shadow.

He knew things.

Too many things.

Things about her. About what she’d been through. About the pain in her heart, the past she barely remembered, the danger she represented and the redemption she still sought. He knew everything that had happened in the show.

His gut twisted.

Should he say something?

Should he tell her?

He stared for a moment longer, then slowly, almost sadly, let out a quiet sigh through his nose. His eyes turned away, toward the trees.

“No,” he whispered under his breath. “There’s no way I should.”

Because how could he possibly explain it? How could he tell her that he knew parts of her life that she didn’t even remember yet? That he’d seen her banishment, her pain, her return… not through history books or stories… but on a screen, like a script?

No.

He couldn’t.

And he wouldn’t.

Instead, he simply turned back to the water, letting the silence settle between them, the forest quietly breathing around them, and the promise of the unknown waiting in the distance ahead.

As Ghost and Luna sat by the slow-moving river, each quietly picking through the small pile of berries they’d gathered, the silence between them stretched on—not uncomfortable, not cold, but heavy with thoughts unspoken. Ghost kept his eyes low as he chewed, the taste of the tart fruit barely registering on his tongue. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak to her—no, it was more that he had no idea what to say. What words could he offer to someone like her? To a princess—no, not just a princess—to Luna, the once-mythical mare of the moon, who had returned to the world after a thousand years of banishment and pain?

He had known her once. In a way. Back when he sat alone in his room, late at night after patrols or missions, letting the glow of the screen light up his face while he watched episode after episode. Back then, she had been just a character—a voice, an image, a story. But now… now she was sitting beside him, living, breathing, wounded, real. That show? That wasn’t this. This wasn’t fiction. This was life. And anything he thought he knew about her—any assumptions, any insights—meant nothing here.

She wasn't a character. She was a person.

But before he could even find a word to break the silence, the hairs on his neck stood up, and Luna suddenly froze, her ears perking as a low, guttural growl rippled through the trees.

His instincts kicked in.

Ghost’s muscles locked into place, every fiber of his body going tense, his training pouring into him like a cold wave of clarity. He was up in a second, knife already drawn in a smooth, practiced motion, his stance solid, his hoof gripping the handle of the black steel blade like it was an extension of his body.

Luna’s head snapped to him, her eyes wide, startled—not just by the growl, but by him.

By how fast he moved.

Faster than any Royal Guard she’d ever commanded. Faster than any soldier she remembered from a thousand years ago. There was no hesitation, no fumbling, no uncertain bravado. He reacted not with courage born of duty, but with the cold, razor-sharp calm of someone who had danced with death more times than most could count.

He said nothing at first, eyes narrowed, scanning the dense treeline as the growl returned—closer now. Then he saw them.

Three wolves emerged from the underbrush, low to the ground, their eyes locked onto him and Luna. These were not timberwolves made of bark and magic. No, these were flesh and blood—real predators, real hunger in their eyes, real muscle under matted fur. Ghost stared them down with the same dead-serious expression he’d given charging tanks back home.

Well, he thought grimly, better this than another armored convoy or mortar strike.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. He glared at them, his stance unwavering, daring them.

Then he shouted, his voice erupting like a bomb through the still woods.

“COME ON, LET’S GO!”

The wolves jerked, visibly startled by the sudden roar, ears twitching, steps faltering. They hadn’t expected prey to shout back. They hadn’t expected him.

But one of them still charged.

The beast sprang forward with a snarl, its jaws wide, teeth bared for the kill.

Ghost sidestepped.

Fast.

So fast it was almost a blur.

The knife slashed upward in one smooth, brutal motion, catching the wolf in the neck. Blood sprayed across the ground in a dark arc as Ghost twisted the blade and dragged it across the throat in a savage motion, dropping the animal in a gurgling heap.

The other two wolves howled and lunged in unison, angered by the death of their packmate.

Ghost didn’t hesitate.

He pivoted into the first one, ducking low under its leap and driving the blade straight into its belly, tearing sideways with enough force to send it crashing into the dirt with a shriek of pain.

The third tried to flank, snapping at his hind leg.

Ghost kicked it—hard. His hoof slammed into the side of its skull, dazing it just long enough for him to leap forward and bring the knife down between its shoulders, pinning it to the ground as it gave one final, strangled yelp.

Then… silence.

Heavy, grim silence.

The forest went still again, the birds having long since gone quiet. Blood soaked the dirt. Three bodies lay motionless around him, steam still rising from their wounds in the cool air. Ghost stood there, chest rising and falling slowly, blade dripping red, his eyes scanning the trees for more.

But there were no more.

He let out a breath and finally turned his head.

Luna was staring at him.

Wide-eyed. Motionless. Her mouth slightly open.

She had seen combat before—she was no stranger to it—but this… this wasn’t like anything she remembered. This wasn’t training. This wasn’t the ceremonial drills of the Royal Guard, or the planned sparring matches of soldiers. This was different.

This was real.

Brutal. Efficient. Deadly.

He didn’t just defend himself.

He killed.

And he had done it with a level of skill, speed, and precision she had never seen in any guard under her command. Not even her sister’s most elite troops. Not even the griffons she once negotiated with. Not the dragons who boasted of strength and fury. Ghost had moved like a predator who had been doing this all his life. And from the cold look in his eyes… she suspected he had.

This wasn’t the kind of training born from a noble cause or a nation’s army.

This was the kind of training forged in war.

And in that moment, Luna knew—truly knew—that the stallion standing before her wasn’t just some odd wanderer in black armor. He wasn’t just a survivor.

He was a soldier.

A real one.

Chapter Text

Ghost stood there for a moment, staring down at the crumpled bodies of the three wolves lying motionless on the forest floor, their blood staining the dirt and painting dark splashes across his black gear. The sharp metallic scent of it filled the air, mixing with the earthy smell of pine needles and damp moss. He let out a slow sigh through his nose and glanced down at his legs, where crimson was smeared across the fabric of his pants and up onto his vest.

Great. Blood. Again.

Still, he thought, at least they had food now. He wasn’t about to starve in this damn place, and he sure as hell wasn’t picky. Meat was meat, and after all the MREs and half-burnt rations he’d lived off during deployments, fresh wolf wasn’t exactly the worst option on the menu. He turned his head toward Luna, who hadn’t moved. She was staring at him—no, through him—her expression unreadable, her deep cyan eyes locked onto his blood-slick form like she was trying to understand just what she had just witnessed.

“Fuck,” Ghost thought silently, clenching his jaw. He’d just gone full predator mode right in front of her. Killed without hesitation, like it was second nature—and to be fair, it was. She'd watched the whole thing, probably still trying to decide if she should be impressed, horrified, or both.

But then his eyes narrowed, and he set his shoulders.

You know what? Screw it. He wasn’t going to hide who he was. Not here. Not in this strange world. Not for her, not for anyone. He wasn’t some sugar-coated storybook knight or soft-spoken cartoon caricature. He was a soldier. A killer when he had to be. That part of him wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how pastel or peaceful this place might look.

So he turned to her and said it flat, voice steady and unapologetic. “Well, we got meat now. We’re not going hungry.”

Luna blinked, as if pulled out of some deep, tangled thought, her gaze drifting from him to the wolves and then slowly back again. She studied him for a second longer, her expression softening just a fraction before she gave a small nod and replied in a quiet, composed tone, “Indeed. It would seem so.”

And just like that, nothing else needed to be said.

The forest returned to silence, the birds cautiously chirping again in the distance. Ghost got to work with the knife, cleaning the meat, washing off the worst of the blood in the river, and setting it over a fire. The taste wasn’t exactly five-star, but it kept their bellies full—and that was all that mattered.

The next three days passed quietly, and before he even realized it, a strange sort of routine had started to form between them.

Luna, to his quiet surprise, was adapting to him. Not just tolerating his presence or enduring his bluntness—she was adjusting, little by little. She started talking to him more, asking questions here and there, listening when he spoke, even smiling occasionally in that calm, regal way of hers. And Ghost, for his part, found himself warming up to her as well. Not completely. Not yet. But enough that their conversations no longer felt stiff or strained. He even found her dry humor unexpectedly sharp, and sometimes, when the fire crackled low at night, he would catch her watching the stars with a look that said she still missed them, even after all this time.

One thing that caught him off guard though—and probably should’ve crossed his mind earlier—was the whole thing with clothes.

Or rather, the total lack of them.

Ponies didn’t wear them. Ever. Didn’t care to. And at first, it was… well, weird. But honestly? It didn’t take long for him to stop noticing. After everything he’d seen in the field—after carrying wounded through mortar fire, seeing men stripped by explosions or medics cutting off uniforms to save lives—nudity had just become another part of the job. The body was just a body, and whether clothed or not, it meant nothing unless you gave it meaning. So seeing Luna without any armor or royal attire? Yeah. Whatever. Didn’t even register after a while. He had way more important things to think about than whether or not a four-legged mythological princess was walking around in the nude.

What did stay on his mind, though, was her strength.

She was recovering. He could see it.

Her steps were more sure now, her shoulders no longer sagged with exhaustion, and her breathing had become steady instead of strained. The berries, the meat, the water—all of it was slowly doing its job, and Luna, former Princess of the Moon, was slowly reclaiming her physical health.

But her magic?

It hadn’t come back. Not even a little.

Every attempt she made ended in flickers of light or soft sparks that fizzled out before they ever formed into proper spells. She hid it well—spoke of it calmly, with the same kind of poise she always carried—but Ghost could tell it ate at her. He could see it in the way she frowned just slightly longer after each failed attempt, in the way her eyes lingered on the moon at night, as if hoping it would answer her.

He had a plan once, a vague idea of how to help her recover it. Some things from the show had hinted at how alicorns regained power after being weakened—but that was the show.

This was real.

And now that he’d seen her up close, seen how drained she really was, he found himself pushing that plan further and further away. If she was going to get better, it wasn’t going to be from some magic MacGuffin or plot device.

It was going to take time.

And Ghost—despite all odds—found himself willing to give her that time.

He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but sometime between the blood, the silence, the firelight, and the stars… he’d decided he was staying. At least until she didn’t need him anymore.

POV: Ghost

Three more days had passed, and at this point, he figured he’d been stuck in this new world for—well, he hadn’t been keeping a perfect count, but it had to be over a week now. Not by much, maybe nine or ten days, but still enough to feel the weight of it in his bones. Long enough for the surreal buzz of disbelief to dull into something heavier, quieter, something more like acceptance—if not comfort.

He hated the forest. He really did. At first, he could tolerate it—he had bigger problems, like survival, food, Luna’s condition—but now? He was over it. The same trees, the same mud, the same damn birds that never shut up at dawn. It was endless. And claustrophobic in its own way. The canopy always hung heavy overhead, blotting out parts of the sky, and though the river gave them a direction, a path to follow, it was starting to feel like they were walking through a looped hallway that never changed. Just green and bark and silence.

But the one thing that kept him from truly cracking was Luna.

At this point, they were completely used to each other. All the weirdness, the mistrust, the tension—it was just gone. Their rhythms synced up like two gears in a clock. She had her space, he had his, and when they talked, it was natural now. No awkward pauses, no hesitation. They just were. A pair. Survivors.

Luna, physically, was fully recovered. Her limbs no longer shook when she walked, her eyes were bright again, and her steps were strong, steady. She carried herself more like what he remembered from the show—not quite regal yet, not completely majestic—but the signs were there. Her body was changing too. He’d noticed it a couple days ago—her frame was a little taller, her mane starting to thicken, her horn longer. Still had a ways to go, but the shift was real. Like watching the moon rise slowly over a dark horizon.

And her mind?

Night and day compared to before.

The soft-spoken, uncertain mare who had trembled after collapsing in the woods was gone. In her place stood someone more confident, more in control. Ghost had a hunch that her memories were fully back now—she never said it outright, but he could see it in her eyes. That knowing stare she gave him when he said something she found amusing or when she looked at the stars without flinching, no longer haunted. She was becoming herself again—becoming Luna. The one from the show. The one he had always admired.

He didn’t say any of this, of course.

Didn’t let a single word of it show.

The part of him that had once been a brony was still buried under layers of military training, discipline, and sheer survival instinct. Even now, sitting here, watching the fire crackle and spit orange sparks into the air, he could still feel the deep roots of professionalism anchoring him. He didn’t fangirl, didn’t stammer, didn’t stare with wide eyes. That wasn’t him. Not anymore.

But deep down, past all the combat reflexes and hardened instincts, he was happy.

Really, genuinely happy to see her like this.

Luna had always been his favorite in the show. Her struggle, her redemption, her personality—he’d connected with it more than he ever realized back then. And now she was here, alive and real, her body changing, her mind healing, her magic—weak, yes, but improving. The sparks she produced now had form, however small. That was more than nothing. That was progress.

At the moment, he sat alone by the campfire they'd built out of sticks and scavenged wood, staring into the flickering flames as they danced in the cool breeze. The sky above was blue, scattered with lazy clouds, and the distant rush of the river filled the quiet between thoughts. The scent of smoke clung to him now, part of his skin, just like dirt and fatigue. The firelight reflected off the black metal of his vest as he shifted, adjusting his seat on a flat rock they’d claimed as part of their temporary base.

Luna was down by the river, a few dozen feet away. He could see her out of the corner of his eye, standing knee-deep in the water, her horn lit with that soft blue glow as she held a sharpened stick in her magic. Fishing.

Yeah. Turned out she liked fish.

She’d been surprised by that herself at first—said it wasn’t something she remembered enjoying before—but now? She had taken to it with a surprising amount of dedication. Ghost let her handle it; she wanted to contribute, and she was damn good at spearing the slippery bastards. The first time she brought back three in a row, he hadn’t even tried to hide the impressed look on his face.

They’d been walking for three days now, following the river as it wound through the forest. Hoping for a village. A town. Something. So far, they’d found nothing—no hoofprints, no lights, no voices. Just forest and more forest.

But Ghost hadn’t lost hope.

Not even close.

He’d been behind enemy lines before. He knew what it meant to be lost, to be alone, to have no map and no intel and still have to keep moving. This? This was just another kind of battlefield. And he didn’t lose battles. Not without a fight.

So, he waited. Watched the fire. Listened to the quiet.

And every once in a while, he’d glance toward Luna, watch her standing tall and proud in the river with the water swirling around her hooves, her mane catching the wind, her eyes focused and fierce.

And he’d think to himself: Yeah. We’re gonna make it.

Ghost sat there silently, his eyes fixed on the flickering, crackling campfire before him, the soft orange glow reflecting in his red eyes as the warmth from the flames pushed back against the gentle chill of the forest morning. The world around him felt deceptively calm—too calm for his liking. After a little over a week surviving out here, he'd learned that quiet didn’t always mean safe. Still, the fire was comforting. It was familiar. Fire had kept him alive before, warding off the dark and giving some sense of order amid chaos, and now it did so again in this strange, vibrant land of magic and talking creatures.

He let his thoughts drift, just a little, not to lower his guard, but to reflect on everything. He was still getting used to this pony body, still adjusting to the different rhythm of walking on four legs instead of two, and the odd feel of hooves instead of fingers. Yet some changes had proved… surprisingly useful. His vision, for one, was much sharper now—clearer at a distance, especially in dim light. His hearing had become almost unnervingly sensitive, picking up the soft rustle of leaves, the flit of a bird’s wings overhead, or the subtle gurgle of the river as it moved slowly along its course. His sense of smell had improved too—he could catch the earthy richness of the forest floor, the clean scent of the river, and the sharp tang of the raw fish they had just pulled from the water.

That fish, in fact, was the result of Luna’s growing independence. He looked up when he heard the soft splashes from the river’s edge, and sure enough, there she was—Princess Luna, though she still hadn’t called herself that—stepping up out of the water with the fluid grace of someone who was finally regaining command of her body. Her deep blue coat glistened, damp and shining faintly in the light filtering through the trees, and her mane, though still recovering its full magical shimmer, clung slightly to her neck and shoulders, dark strands sticking together from the river water. Suspended in her magical aura were three glistening fish, still twitching lightly from the aftershock of being pulled from their element, their scales catching tiny motes of sunlight like little mirrors.

Ghost didn’t say anything—he just nodded at her, and she nodded back, an unspoken agreement passing between them. She came over without a word and laid the fish down carefully near the fire. A couple of flat rocks had already been positioned by the flames to act like crude cooking surfaces. Between the two of them, they had managed to gut and clean the fish quickly—Ghost with his combat knife, Luna with what little magic she could muster to help—and now they sizzled quietly as the skin crisped and the smell of cooked meat began to drift through the trees.

Luna took her place on the other side of the fire, her eyes watching the fish intently, though now and then they flicked to Ghost with a bit more ease than they had days before. Her body had changed a little in just the last three days—he could see it. The small, frail build she had when they first met was gradually being replaced. Her legs looked stronger, her frame taller, her posture more confident, and her mane had started to flow just a little differently, like it was beginning to catch the wind with an echo of its old magic. He could tell that her mind had shifted too—she no longer flinched or hesitated when speaking, and she carried herself with a quiet confidence that hadn’t been there before. It was subtle, but it was real.

He liked seeing that. It felt like progress. Hope, even.

But before he could lean too far into that feeling, his ears suddenly twitched, catching the faintest sound—a shift in the underbrush, the snap of a branch that didn’t quite belong to the rhythm of the forest. His body reacted instantly, honed by instinct and years of training. He stood up without a word, fast but silent, and in one smooth motion pulled his combat knife free from his vest with his hoof, holding it firm, his body lowering slightly as he faced the treeline like a coiled spring ready to snap.

Across the fire, Luna’s ears flicked at the same moment. She turned her head sharply toward the sound, her eyes narrowing slightly as she slowly rose to her hooves. Her horn sparked faintly, but not enough for a spell—not yet.

The tension rose like a slow wave as Ghost stared at the shadow between the trees, watching for movement, reading the forest like a battlefield. His breath was steady, slow, completely in control.

Then he saw it—movement, just ahead. A shape was walking toward them, tall and upright on two legs. Ghost blinked, just once, instinctively questioning if what he was seeing was real. It didn’t make sense—but hell, nothing had made sense for over a week now, and at this point, he’d learned to stop expecting it to. Still, this wasn’t what he expected at all.

Out from the treeline, as if stepping directly from the screen of a game he played as a kid, came a figure he never thought he’d see in real life. She was unmistakable—orange-red fur, a white muzzle, long bushy tail, and a feathered blue tricorn hat with a red plume swaying gently with her steps. Her golden eyes were sharp and calculating, scanning everything before they settled right on him and Luna. She wore that red-and-navy Highlander outfit, complete with gold trim and fitted coat, the blue sash at her hip tied in a pirate’s confident style. Her boots were high and laced tight, well-traveled, worn but tough. She moved like a fighter, like someone who’d seen her share of battle and walked out stronger for it.

Bonnie Anne.

Ghost stared, not moving, not breathing for a heartbeat as the name clicked in his mind. It was really her. From Pirate101. His childhood game. One of his favorite characters—sharp, clever, brave, and deadly with a rifle in hand. Except now she didn’t have her weapon. And yet, she still walked like someone who didn’t need one.

Luna’s eyes narrowed slightly, confused by Ghost’s sudden stillness and the stranger approaching, her voice low and cautious as she whispered, “Do you know her?”

Ghost didn’t look away. He just muttered under his breath, the ghost of a smirk flicking at the corner of his mouth as the absurdity of it all washed over him.

“Well… things just got interesting.”

Ghost leaned ever so slightly toward Luna, keeping his voice low and controlled, barely louder than the breeze rustling the trees above as he murmured, “No… I don’t know her.”

And, in truth, that wasn’t a lie—not really. Sure, he recognized her, down to every detail burned into memory from those long hours spent playing Pirate101 back when life was simple, and war was just pixels on a screen. But knowing someone through a game and meeting them face-to-face in the flesh—or fur, in this case—those were two entirely different things. He’d never met her. Not outside a monitor. So no, it wasn’t a lie. Not technically. But it sure felt damn weird to say it.

His eyes narrowed as he studied her again, his gaze sliding across every detail, memory and present reality overlapping in strange ways that made it feel like his brain was short-circuiting. The Bonnie Anne standing in front of him looked exactly like she did when she was high-leveled in the game—when you had spent hours upon hours building her up, training her, sending her into battle after battle. That outfit, the one with the navy coat trimmed in gold, the red accents, the sharp sash and crisp boots—he remembered it vividly, and it didn’t come early in the game. No, you had to earn that. She had to earn that. Which meant this Bonnie Anne had seen combat. A lot of it. Enough that her presence here wasn’t just a fluke or some early, naive version of the character. No—this was the real deal.

That thought came with another realization that crawled up his spine like a slow, thoughtful shiver. In the game, Bonnie was a pure marksman. That was her strength, her identity. She fought from range, taking enemies down with clean, precise rifle shots, or occasionally using her firearm in close-quarters to bash an opponent back if they got too close. But fists? Kicks? Blades? That wasn’t her thing. She wasn’t designed for it. She’d always had a team to protect her if things got too close—especially him, the player, the Captain, her anchor.

So the question slammed into his brain like a hard punch: If she’s here… where’s her Captain?

He glanced her over again, more subtly this time, wondering. Could she be alone? That made no sense. Bonnie was loyal. Fiercely loyal. In the game, she followed the player through fire and storms, across entire worlds, and she never once betrayed that bond. It was a part of who she was. If she was here without them, that meant either something had gone very wrong… or she had never met them in the first place. Which led to a bigger, messier thought: Is this a version of her that never had a Captain? That never joined the crew?

Ghost exhaled slowly, his grip still tight on the combat knife in his hoof. He didn’t move right away. She hadn't attacked. She hadn't said anything, hadn't made a move to pull a weapon—hell, it looked like she didn't even have one. That was odd, considering how bound she was to her rifle in the game. It was as much a part of her as her accent and her attitude. So the fact she didn’t have it now either meant she lost it… or never had it. Either way, her ability in hand-to-hand was unknown, and that was dangerous. Based on what he did know, he doubted she’d be highly skilled in it—maybe enough to hold her own, maybe some basic survival instincts—but not much more. She wasn’t a brawler. Not like him.

Luna gave him a soft nod from across the fire, her stance relaxing just slightly, though her eyes remained sharp and focused. She trusted his judgment—he could see that. And honestly, that meant more than he was willing to admit out loud right now.

Bonnie Anne stood there on the edge of their firelight, her golden eyes flicking between them both, but lingering mostly on him. Her brow furrowed slightly, just the faintest edge of confusion crossing her face, which made perfect sense. After all, there weren’t any ponies in Pirate101. Not a single one. If she came from that universe, this would be the first time she’d ever seen anything like him or Luna. It had to be strange as hell for her, and judging by the way she was scanning him—starting from the helmet down to the black camo military vest and combat gear—she was trying to make sense of it.

Ghost could practically see the gears turning behind her eyes. Smart. Calculating. She might not know what he was, but she was trying to figure it out, and fast. She might not recognize the exact details of his gear, but she’d fought enough battles—real ones, apparently—to know armor when she saw it. And probably guessed the knife wasn’t just for fish.

He didn’t want to make her an enemy. That’d be stupid. If she was like the Bonnie from the game, she was loyal, sharp, and worth trusting… eventually. Besides, she hadn’t attacked. She hadn't drawn a weapon—if she even had one. Right now, all she’d done was walk out of the forest and look confused.

So Ghost made his choice.

Slowly, deliberately, he lowered the knife, flipping it in his hoof before sliding it back into its sheath with a practiced motion. He stood tall again, but not in a threatening way—just firm, grounded, alert.

He didn’t speak yet. He just watched her, watched the way her ears flicked at the sound of the knife being put away, how her eyes narrowed slightly with curiosity. Her body language still wasn’t aggressive—just wary, guarded. Same as his.

Inside though, deep down where the old part of him—the part before the war—still existed, he wanted to groan and mutter to the skies.

“Fuck you, fate,” he thought bitterly, eyes still locked on her. “First Luna, now Bonnie Anne? What’s next? A dragon from Skyrim?”

He stayed ready. Still calm. But yeah… this just got a hell of a lot more complicated.

The crackle of the fire filled the forest clearing, the light dancing across the three figures as the tension slowly bled away like steam rising off a boiling pot. Ghost, still wary but professional as ever, stood a moment longer as he watched Bonnie Anne’s stance relax just a hair the second he sheathed his combat knife. Her posture—arms sliding to her hips, weight shifting comfortably to one side—made it clear she’d decided he wasn’t a threat. At least, not yet.

He decided to be the one to break the silence. His voice came out calm and casual, but with that familiar edge of a soldier always measuring everything and everyone around him.

“Well… sorry, lady, for pulling a knife on you. Just… strange to find someone out here in the forest. Usually it’s wild animals out here, not talking foxes.”

He’d chosen the word “lady” on purpose. Polite, neutral, and—most importantly—something that didn’t hint at recognition. Because no matter how much he knew her from the game, no matter how many times she’d been on his screen growing up, this wasn’t Pirate101 anymore. This was real. He couldn’t just blurt out that he knew who she was. She wasn’t lines of code or a sprite following his pirate captain. She was standing there, breathing, blinking, and appraising him with eyes that were sharp and golden and far too intelligent to underestimate.

Bonnie nodded, her ears giving a small twitch as she glanced around the forest and responded with a smirk in her voice. “I can understand that. I’d do the same. I’d be suspicious if someone just walked into my camp, too—especially in the middle of nowhere.”

Ghost hummed softly, just low enough to avoid sounding rude. Her voice... damn, it was just like he remembered from the game. But something about it was more natural now. Less scripted. No exaggerated pirate drawl or theatrical inflection—just clear, clean, and real. Honestly, it made her feel all the more tangible. Not a game character. Not a figment. Just a living, breathing soul.

Bonnie looked between them, then back to the trees and asked, “Speaking of forests… do you two know a way out? I’ve been walking for a while, and I’ve completely lost track of where I am.”

Ghost gave a slow nod, almost sorry to deliver the news. “Well… sorry to say, but we’re lost too. No clue where we are. We’ve been following the river for a few days, hoping it leads somewhere.”

Bonnie blinked, then let out a small exhale—not quite a sigh, more like a quiet resignation—and shrugged. “Oh. Well… do you mind if I join you for a bit? I’ve been walking for a bit now, and I’m tired. Could use a rest.”

Ghost turned his head slightly, his red eyes flicking toward Luna. She just gave a small shrug, as if to say “your call.” She didn’t seem bothered, not by Bonnie’s presence or her request. Maybe she just trusted his judgment, or maybe she was curious too. Hard to tell with her sometimes—her face had gotten better at hiding things in the past few days.

Ghost looked back to Bonnie and gave a short nod. “Sure. Hope you like fish.”

Bonnie gave a small grin and nodded. “I do.” Then she added, hand over her chest in an almost formal gesture, “Name’s Bonnie Anne.”

Luna smiled softly from her place near the fire. “My name is Luna.”

Ghost gave a casual nod. “Ghost.”

Bonnie's ears twitched as she heard the names, maybe storing them away, maybe reacting slightly to how strange they sounded together. Still, she didn’t ask any questions yet. Instead, she walked over to the fire and settled down with them, her movements relaxed, but Ghost could still tell she was keeping an eye on everything. Not paranoid. Just sharp.

He and Luna followed, sitting down once again by the fire, the smell of cooked fish mingling with the crisp forest air. The flames flickered and hissed as the fish began to sizzle, the skins bubbling and crisping from the heat.

As Ghost sat there, eyes shifting between the river, the trees, the crackling fire, and the fox now part of their little camp, he hummed to himself again. Low, thoughtful. The quiet melody of a man who had seen far too much weirdness to be surprised anymore.

Let’s see where this goes.

The scent of cooked fish was rising steadily now, rich and warm, the edges of the meat just beginning to flake and curl from the heat, steam wafting lazily through the quiet air above the fire. Ghost didn’t move to serve it just yet. He watched the flames, calm on the outside, but his ears were tuned in sharply to the conversation. Every word, every shift in tone, every expression—they all told him more than the words alone.

Luna, perhaps feeling the moment had grown too still, flicked her eyes toward Bonnie and asked with a casual, light curiosity, “So, what are you doing out in the forest?”

She kept her tone soft, polite, but Ghost could hear the interest behind it. He had the same question gnawing at the back of his mind—how someone like Bonnie Anne, someone from a completely different universe, ended up here—but he didn’t let it show. His face stayed calm, unreadable, his body language casual as he simply let the conversation unfold.

Bonnie looked over to Luna with a shrug and a sigh, her red ears twitching as she spoke. “I got no clue.”

Luna blinked, tilting her head slightly in confusion. That clearly wasn’t the answer she expected. Ghost caught the slight crease of Bonnie’s brow as she glanced down at the ground, her tail flicking behind her in quiet frustration before she looked back up.

“One moment I was sittin’ at a bar in Skull Island—just outside the gunnery tower—takin’ a load off after a long job. Wasn’t drunk or anything, hadn’t even gotten through the first drink. Just wanted a moment to breathe. Then outta nowhere there’s this bright, white flash—like someone set off a powder keg in my face—and when I come to, I’m lyin’ in the dirt surrounded by trees I ain’t never seen before.”

Ghost hummed under his breath, quiet and low, still looking at the fire. Skull Island. The infamous pirate stronghold. The base of operations for privateers, outlaws, sky pirates, and adventurers alike. It wasn’t exactly the safest place in the Spiral, but it was familiar ground. Still, it didn’t make sense. This Bonnie clearly wasn’t a rookie. Her coat, her stance, her gear—it all screamed experience. You didn’t survive long in Skull Island without knowing how to fight, and she looked like she'd been through a hundred battles and come out sharper for it. So what the hell was she doing there just relaxing?

Luna looked puzzled. “That… sounds strange. But I’ve never heard of this ‘Skull Island’ before.”

Bonnie blinked. “You’ve never heard of Skull Island?” Her voice lilted with disbelief, and she looked between Luna and Ghost like she was expecting one of them to laugh and tell her they were joking.

But Ghost stayed silent, and Luna just shook her head.

Bonnie’s expression twisted into confusion, her ears twitching, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to piece it together. “It’s one of the bigger islands out there. A real pirate haven. Hidden out in the skyways, thick with jungle, caves full of treasure, and more than a few folks looking to make a name for themselves—or rob someone else of theirs. There’s a fortress there, guarded cannons, a port, and more taverns than you can count. Anyone who sails long enough ends up there sooner or later.”

Luna blinked again, now looking not just confused, but stunned. “Skyways?” she echoed. “Do you mean… rivers of air?”

Bonnie nodded slowly, now sitting upright, her hands resting on her lap as she studied them. “Yeah. That’s how we travel between islands. There’s no land bridges where I’m from—everything’s floatin’ in the air, held together by the Spiral currents. You sail through it in ships. Big wooden ones with sails and rigging. Sometimes you use stormgates—kind of like… magical tunnels that connect the different realms. But I haven’t seen any gates here, or heard a whisper of wind that sounds like the Spiral.”

Luna’s wings twitched at her sides, her expression shifting from confusion to awe. “That sounds like… something out of a fantasy tale. Where I come from, traveling to different realms or planes of existence requires incredibly powerful magic—and even then, it’s almost always dangerous, unstable. We don’t have anything like this… Spiral. And definitely no flying ships.”

Bonnie looked at her for a long moment, her gold eyes thoughtful, puzzled. “Huh. That’s… strange. Real strange. You’re sayin’ this world don’t have sky travel? Or stormgates? Or even a way to get to other islands?”

Luna shook her head again. “No. This world is all one landmass, or at least one planet. What you’re describing sounds… impossible by our rules of magic.”

Bonnie leaned back a little, her arms folding over her chest. “Well that don’t sit right. Far as I know, I ain’t crossed no stormgate, and I sure didn’t sign up to be magicked away into some unknown realm. This place—these woods, this world—it don’t feel like any part of the Spiral I’ve ever heard of. I figured I just ended up on some backwater island no one’s charted yet, but now I’m not so sure.”

Ghost still didn’t speak. His eyes flicked once toward the fox, then to Luna, then back to the fire. His body was still relaxed, but his mind was running hard. So Bonnie didn’t know. She thought she was still in her own universe—or at least, somewhere near it. That made sense. If it was anything like his situation, she didn’t see this coming at all. She wasn’t here by choice.

The fire popped again, louder this time, and Ghost reached forward to prod one of the fish gently with the tip of his hoof. The skin was golden now, the meat inside steaming gently. They were ready.

But he wasn’t focused on the food.

He was focused on the fact that he and Bonnie had something disturbingly in common.

They didn’t belong here.

And neither of them had a clue why they were.

Ghost carefully reached for the skewered fish, the wood warm beneath his hoof as he lifted the first one away from the fire, the meat flaking just right, glistening with oils and heat. One by one, he pulled them free from the flames, laying them gently onto a flat rock they’d cleaned earlier for just this purpose. The smell was mouthwatering, rich with a wild, earthy scent, and even though he was listening in, his movements stayed precise and practiced—just like a soldier used to doing three things at once.

Bonnie shifted a little on the log where she sat, her gold eyes now focused on Luna as her ears flicked forward with curiosity. “So… where am I exactly?”

Luna glanced at her before replying calmly, “You are in Equestria.”

Bonnie blinked. “Equestria? Never heard of it,” she said, frowning slightly as she leaned back, folding her arms. “And I’ve been just about everywhere in the known sky. So that explains why I’ve never seen your kind before.”

She gave Luna a bit of a sideways glance, curious but not rude, and added, “No offense, but… what are you? You don’t exactly look like any horse I’ve ever seen—not fully, anyway.”

Luna nodded, clearly used to such questions, and answered evenly, “That’s understandable. We are not horses. We’re ponies—smaller, magical, and very much our own kind. And you… I know what a fox is, but I’ve never seen one speak, or walk upright, or wear clothes quite like yours. You’re unlike anything I’ve encountered.”

Bonnie smirked softly at that and let out a small breath of amusement. “Well, ain’t that a surprise. Seems like today just keeps getting stranger and stranger.”

Luna nodded once, her expression thoughtful, then asked in a slightly more pointed tone, “You mentioned Skull Island earlier… you said it’s a place for pirates. So… are you one?”

The question was calm, but there was a glint in Luna’s eye, a subtle narrowing, not quite hostile but certainly wary. Ghost could tell—Luna didn’t like the idea of pirates.

Bonnie noticed it too. She raised both her hands in a slow, non-threatening gesture, her voice still relaxed but a bit more serious now. “Hold on now. Yes, I am a pirate—but not like the kind you're thinkin’. I don’t go around plunderin’ and pillagin’ for no reason. I’ve got standards. I’m not some backwater raider. I fight when I have to, but I don’t enjoy causin’ harm. I take pride in keepin’ my word, and I avoid unnecessary trouble when I can.”

Luna tilted her head, still watching her closely. “Fine,” she said after a moment. “But let me give you a warning. Don’t go telling others you’re a pirate—not around here. Pirates were hunted down and wiped out across Equestria long ago. There are no more left, and anyone caught claiming to be one would likely end up in jail.”

Ghost glanced at Luna as she said that, noting the way her tone shifted just slightly. That was new information—he hadn’t heard that before. Pirates… gone from Equestria? Wiped out completely? That was worth remembering. The more he learned about this world, the more complex it became.

Bonnie, meanwhile, looked genuinely surprised. “Wiped out?” she repeated, blinking. “Well, that’s impressive. You all managed to do what no one else has. Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll keep that in mind. No point stirrin’ trouble I don’t need.”

Luna nodded, relaxing a bit again. Then she paused, her brow furrowing as she added, “And after listening to everything you’ve said… how different your world sounds, the kind of magic and technology you describe, and even the name of that light you mentioned when you arrived… I’m going to say this bluntly: I don’t think you’re in the Spiral anymore. You’re not on one of its worlds. You’re on the planet Earth… this planet.”

Ghost blinked once at that, his ear giving a small twitch. Earth? That name again. That wasn’t what he expected to hear from Luna of all ponies. She said it so simply, but it hit like a hammer. This was Earth?

Bonnie's ears lifted, her expression thoughtful now rather than confused. She looked up at the sky for a long moment, then let out a slow breath. “Huh… I think you might be right. That would explain a lot. Things feel… off here. But maybe that’s not so bad. I mean… maybe being stuck here won’t be the worst thing in the world.”

She gave a small smile then, the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes but carried a glimmer of hope anyway.

Ghost looked back at the fish. He pushed one toward Bonnie, then one toward Luna, before settling down himself.

“Yeah,” he murmured, mostly to himself, “let’s see where this goes.”

Ghost passed out the food without saying much, sliding the freshly cooked fish toward both Bonnie and Luna with a practiced motion. They both gave their thanks—Luna with a soft nod and Bonnie with a more cheerful, “Much appreciated”—before they each started to eat. The fire crackled gently beside them, casting flickers of light over the clearing as the warmth mixed with the cool night air.

Bonnie chewed quietly for a bit, then glanced over at Ghost, her golden eyes curious beneath the brim of her feathered hat. “So,” she said casually, “what’s your story? I didn’t ask what brought either of you out here, not yet anyway. But I’ve been talkin’ to Luna for a bit, so… what’s up with you?”

Ghost looked at her, his face unreadable, not saying anything at first. Truth was, he wasn’t sure what to say. How do you explain something you haven’t even figured out yourself? The silence stretched, and Luna, picking up on it, raised an eyebrow. She then turned her attention to Bonnie, her voice calm and measured.

“Ghost found me in the forest,” she began. “I was unconscious. I didn’t know how I got there. At first, I couldn’t remember anything—not even who I was. But it came back to me eventually. I don’t want to go into every detail, but... I’m certain Ghost saved my life. If he hadn’t found me when he did, something else likely would have.”

She paused a moment, taking a small bite before continuing. “And actually… I’ve only known Ghost for just over a week now. Funny to think, isn’t it? With how things have been, it almost feels longer. But he hasn’t told me much about himself. Just his name. I figured he had his reasons, and I didn’t want to press him. I respected that boundary.”

Then she turned to face him, her expression softer, though still laced with curiosity. “But maybe it’s time. Ghost… what were you doing out in the forest before you found me?”

Bonnie blinked, looking between them both now, clearly intrigued. “Wait—you two only met a week ago?” she asked, her voice laced with surprise. “Huh. Wouldn’t’ve guessed. Thought you knew each other way longer with how you move together.”

Ghost looked to Luna, his expression steady. “You first,” he said simply, his voice level.

Luna took in a deep breath, her eyes drifting to the fire as if gathering her thoughts. Then she nodded.

“Well… I suppose I can’t keep it a secret forever. My name is Luna, yes—but what I didn’t say before is that I am Princess Luna. One of the two co-rulers of Equestria.”

Bonnie’s eyes went wide, a fish bone halfway to her mouth as her ears perked sharply. “Wait—what?”

Ghost kept his face neutral, showing no surprise outwardly, but inside, he was quietly processing it. So she finally decided to tell the truth.

Bonnie quickly added, “Oh—sorry! I didn’t know you were a princess!”

Luna just shrugged, her expression tired but understanding. “Honestly? It’s refreshing, for once, not being bowed to. It’s nice to be treated normally… like just another pony.”

Bonnie nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah… I get that. Sounds exhausting, bein’ on a pedestal all the time.”

Luna smiled faintly at that, then sighed and looked back into the fire, her voice quieter now. “But… I don’t actually know what state Equestria is in right now.”

Bonnie blinked again. “How can you not know?”

There was a heavy pause before Luna answered.

“Because,” she said slowly, “I’ve been gone for a very long time. I was banished to the moon… for a thousand years.”

Bonnie stared at her, mouth slightly open, all trace of humor gone from her face.

Luna went on, her tone carrying both weight and sorrow. “Long ago… I was not myself. I let bitterness and jealousy consume me. I felt overshadowed by my sister, Celestia, and believed ponies no longer appreciated the night I worked so hard to create. That pain twisted into something darker. I became a being known as Nightmare Moon—dangerous, powerful, and… lost.”

Bonnie remained frozen, listening intently, her face showing more and more disbelief with each word.

“My sister had no choice,” Luna continued, her voice quieter. “To protect our world, she used the Elements of Harmony to seal me away—banish me to the moon, where I remained for one thousand years. Alone. Dreamless. Silent. Time… didn’t pass the same way. When I returned just over a week ago, I was still that twisted version—Nightmare Moon. But the Elements… they were used again. And this time, they did not banish me. They freed me. Brought me back to who I once was.”

Bonnie sat back slowly, her food forgotten, eyes wide and stunned. “That’s… that’s a lot,” she murmured, shaking her head slightly. “You’ve been through a lot. A thousand years? I can’t even imagine what that feels like.”

“I don’t recommend it,” Luna said softly, almost with a sad chuckle. “It’s strange… I’m ancient by your standards, and yet I feel new again. Out of place. I don’t know what’s changed in Equestria. I don’t know how to rule in this age. I… I don’t even know who I am fully yet.”

Bonnie let out a long breath, visibly moved by the confession. “Well… for what it’s worth, I think you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. That’s not an easy thing to come back from. And the fact that you want to do better now? That matters. A lot.”

Luna gave her a grateful look, and for a moment, the firelight danced in her eyes like faint stars.

Ghost sat still, taking it all in, watching the flames, watching the ponies and the pirate beside him.

So Luna was royalty. Banished for a thousand years. Transformed into something dark and dangerous. Freed just a week ago. And now… here they all were.

What a strange trio they made.

But he said nothing, simply biting into the fish and letting the warmth of the fire and the weight of stories hang gently in the night air.

Luna let out a quiet sigh, her wings slightly drooping as the emotions of the evening slowly built up inside her. Her voice, when she spoke, carried that weary tone again, the weight of years behind it. “After the Elements of Harmony were used on me,” she said slowly, thoughtfully, “I didn’t return to the moon. For some reason… they sent me to this forest instead.” She shook her head slightly, as if still puzzled by the turn of events. “I don’t know why. I don’t know who used them—perhaps the new bearers, whoever they are—but instead of banishing me again, they set me free. They tore the nightmare out of me.” Her eyes softened, and a small but genuine smile touched her lips. “And for that, I am grateful. I may not understand it, but… I’m grateful.”

Bonnie simply nodded at first, saying nothing as she absorbed Luna’s words, her sharp golden eyes now dimmed a bit with empathy. But Luna, still processing everything, turned her head to Ghost, her expression slowly shifting into one of curiosity.

“You know,” she said gently, “you don’t look surprised at all by my story. Not even a little. I told you I was a princess from a forgotten time who got possessed by a dark force and banished to the moon for a thousand years, and you’ve barely blinked.”

Bonnie blinked herself and turned to look at Ghost as well, now noticing the same thing. Her brow raised, one ear twitching as she studied his face with fresh interest.

Inside, Ghost flinched slightly, that cold pit in his stomach briefly tightening as he realized he’d slipped up. Damn it, he thought, I should’ve pretended to be surprised. Letting my training get the better of me again…

He let out a long breath and looked between them both before finally speaking, his voice low but steady, and carrying with it the weight of more than just experience. “Hard to shock someone who’s seen hell,” he said.

Both Luna and Bonnie paused, their eyes locking onto him with sharper focus, the silence between them going deep and still like the breath before a storm.

Ghost straightened his back, shoulders squaring as a flicker of steel pride touched his voice. “Sergeant Ghost,” he said clearly, not hiding the conviction behind the words. “United States Army. 102nd Infantry Division. Special Operations. Special Forces.”

The words landed like a stone dropped into still water.

Luna blinked rapidly, a rare look of stunned surprise flashing across her face, and Bonnie’s expression shifted from curiosity to wide-eyed realization. She didn’t say anything at first, but her lips parted slightly, as though trying to find the right thing to say and coming up short. A second passed. Then another. And then Bonnie gave a soft whistle under her breath, a low, impressed sound as her gaze narrowed thoughtfully.

“Special Forces…” she muttered, almost to herself. She shook her head slowly, her voice now serious, her pirate swagger gone for a moment. “I may be a pirate, but I ain’t stupid. I know what that means. The Armada’s elite troops… they were monsters. Tacticians. Killers. Hardened and trained to perfection. You only sent in those kinds when you really needed someone dead, or some place burned to the ground. We learned real quick not to cross them unless we wanted to disappear.”

Ghost gave a slow nod, meeting her eyes steadily. “Special Forces means you don’t just survive the worst the battlefield throws at you. It means you excel in it. You don’t just follow orders. You make the call. You adapt. You operate behind enemy lines. And you finish the job.”

Luna slowly shook her head, her expression changing from surprise to quiet awe. “I don’t know what the United States is… but I know what Special Forces are. I remember hearing about elite units back before my banishment—across the lands, in distant kingdoms, legendary soldiers who only came back with victory or not at all. That you earned that title… and that rank… it tells me enough.”

Bonnie nodded, her voice softer but still filled with that sharp understanding. “You’ve seen things. Done things. Probably more than either of us could guess.”

Ghost looked at the fire, the smirk that came to his face not full of pride, but of a deep, private satisfaction. “You have no clue what I’ve done for my country,” he said, his voice lowering with a hint of steel. “But I did it. Every mission. Every fight. I did it for them.”

He let the words hang for a moment before his gaze lifted again, meeting both their eyes. And then he said something that made the fire suddenly feel colder.

“But as for why I was in the forest before I found you?”

They leaned in slightly—Bonnie’s ears perked high, Luna’s wings twitching just faintly in anticipation.

Ghost’s eyes narrowed, and the smirk vanished into something unreadable. “Simple,” he said. “I died.”

There was no punchline. No humor. Just cold certainty.

Bonnie blinked. “Wait… what?”

Ghost nodded. “Oh yeah,” he said with a quiet snort. “Funny thing. You’re not the only one who doesn’t belong to this world, Bonnie. Took me a while to piece it together, but… yeah. I’m not from Equestria either.”

Bonnie and Luna stared at him. Silent. Eyes slowly widening as the pieces began to fall into place.

Ghost looked back at the fire as the flames danced over the remains of their meal. “My country was at war. I was on the front lines. Not in the back giving orders. I was right there in it. I don’t remember exactly what happened—might’ve been an explosion, artillery shell, maybe a mortar round. Doesn’t matter. I got hit. I was dying. I know I died. And then… I woke up here. In this forest. As a pony.”

Neither Luna nor Bonnie said anything for a while. There were no words to respond with. What could you say?

Bonnie leaned back slightly, her expression pale and stunned, blinking slowly as she tried to absorb the impossible. Luna’s lips parted, her eyes dark with sympathy and disbelief.

“You… died?” Bonnie repeated.

Ghost nodded slowly. “Yeah. For my country. For my team. And now… I’m here.”

The fire crackled again.

Luna glanced at Bonnie, who looked back, both of them finally grasping just how strange and deep the mystery around Ghost truly ran. This wasn’t just a quiet, intense soldier. He was something more. Something else. A warrior torn from death itself and thrown into their world without explanation, without warning.

And now he sat by their fire, living a second life that shouldn’t have existed at all.

What do you say to a man who came back from the grave?

Neither of them knew.

Luna blinked, her expression suddenly shifting to something sharper, more alert, and she leaned forward slightly with her eyes locked on Ghost. “Wait, wait,” she said, lifting a hoof with a sudden sense of urgency in her tone. “You said… ‘woke up here, in this forest, as a pony.’ What exactly do you mean by that?” Her brow furrowed, the suspicion now turning to confusion. “Are you saying you… weren’t one before?”

Bonnie’s ears perked and she turned her full attention on Ghost as well, her tail flicking lightly behind her in clear interest. Her expression wasn’t wary—just curious, intrigued, maybe even a little impressed.

Ghost met both their gazes steadily, then gave a slight nod. “Yeah,” he said simply, without any dramatic pause. “I was something else. A species called a human. Two legs, no fur, no tail, completely different biology. But when I ended up here… I wasn’t human anymore. I woke up like this. Black fur, red eyes, full gear—Earth pony body. I didn’t ask for it, didn’t expect it. It just… happened.”

Bonnie tilted her head, giving a quiet hum of thought as she processed that. “Well, not to be mean,” she said with a small shrug, “but I’m glad I didn’t go through that kind of change. I mean, I already feel out of place just being from another world, but waking up in a body that’s not mine? That’s a bit much.” Her voice softened, more thoughtful now. “I don’t know how much I could handle that. Being something I wasn’t born as, looking down and seeing something completely unfamiliar... I think I’d lose my mind.”

Ghost looked at her with a kind of hollow amusement in his eyes, not angry, just distant, like he was staring down a memory and not particularly fond of what it showed. “Yeah,” he said. “Lucky you. At least you didn’t die. I know exactly what it feels like now. The last moment. The explosion. That cold, weightless drop into nothing. It’s burned into me. How many can say they really know what dying feels like?”

That quiet statement seemed to echo a little too long. The flames from the campfire gave no comfort in that moment, flickering against three faces that were still and silent.

Bonnie and Luna looked at each other, the weight of his words leaving a visible mark in the air around them. It wasn’t fear exactly—more like awe, edged with quiet discomfort. The kind of awe that made the world feel a little larger and darker than it had a minute ago.

Luna cleared her throat gently, trying to reclaim the conversation. “Well… probably no one else,” she said softly. “This is the first time I’ve ever heard of someone dying and then… coming back like that. Alive. Breathing. Whole.”

Bonnie nodded slowly, her tone cautious. “Same here. I’ve seen… things. Fought in places where the dead didn’t always stay dead, but those were undead. Rotten. Hollow. Not really alive. Not like you. You died… but you didn’t come back as a monster. You came back as… you.” She gave him a long look, eyes searching. “How the heck does that even work?”

Luna, though, looked deeply troubled by something else Bonnie said, her mind caught on the word undead. That old worry crept back into her eyes, even though she tried to push it down. “There haven’t been undead in Equestria for a very, very long time,” she said cautiously, as if testing the words. “My sister and I made sure of that. If you’ve seen them… they weren’t here.” Her gaze slid to Bonnie. “You’ve been to places with them?”

Bonnie nodded once, seriously. “Yeah. Other skies. Other lands. Some were worse than others.”

Luna didn’t press, but she didn’t hide the concern in her eyes either.

Ghost, meanwhile, sighed and slowly reached up to his head. The moment had grown heavy again, and for the first time since either of them had met him, he reached up and unclipped his helmet. The sound of it detaching from the rest of his gear felt oddly final, and as he pulled it off and set it down beside him, both Bonnie and Luna instinctively straightened a little.

This was the first time either of them had seen his face fully—no shadows, no glass, no helmet. Just him. A pony like any other on the surface, and yet, the quiet tension in his expression, the sharpness in his red eyes, the hard lines etched subtly into his face from stress and survival—it all set him apart.

Luna stared at him, her head tilted slightly as she realized how unusual this moment truly was. Until now, he had always been half a mystery behind his gear, faceless in his silence. But now he was exposed, if only slightly, and somehow more real.

Bonnie looked at him too, her gaze roving just a little more openly. She didn’t blush, didn’t gawk, but she did let herself admit something quietly in the back of her mind—he was cute. Just a bit. In a rugged, sharp-featured sort of way. It was nothing serious, just a first impression from finally seeing a face that had been hidden this whole time. He was still Ghost—quiet, strange, guarded—but… well, he wasn’t bad to look at.

Then Luna, voice quieter now, asked gently, “Ghost… how old are you, anyway? You… you look younger than I was expecting.”

Ghost blinked, then shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “Twenty-five.”

Both Luna and Bonnie blinked hard at that.

Luna’s wings twitched faintly. “Twenty-five?” she repeated, sounding genuinely surprised.

Bonnie gave a similar reaction, leaning back slightly as her mind reeled at the number. “You’re telling me… you’re only twenty-five? But you’re Special Forces? And a Sergeant already?”

Ghost looked at them with a raised brow, honestly a bit puzzled by their reactions. “Yeah? That’s normal where I’m from. Twenty-five’s not even that young for what I did. I joined young. Trained. Deployed. Moved up. That’s how it works.”

Luna looked genuinely baffled, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to grasp that. “I’m sorry, Ghost, but where I come from… most elite soldiers, especially ones with command or rank, don’t even get considered until they’re at least thirty-five. The kind of training and experience required for Special Forces is… immense. To see a pony your age leading, fighting, surviving like that—” She stopped herself, then shook her head with a bewildered smile. “It’s incredible. But also… concerning.”

Bonnie nodded, looking equally surprised. “I mean… wow. You must’ve gone through some intense stuff to be that far at twenty-five. That’s insane. Most of the elite in the Spiral? They're older. Seasoned. You? You’re still… well, no offense, but you’re young.”

Ghost blinked again. From his perspective, twenty-five wasn’t unusual at all. Plenty of soldiers in the U.S. military hit that age and had already served multiple tours. Some never even made it to twenty-five.

Still, hearing their reactions, he couldn’t help but think just how different their worlds really were. If they thought twenty-five was young for elite soldiers… then what did that say about the kind of soldiers they trained?

He gave a small shrug, smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Sounds like your armies need better standards.”

Bonnie gave a soft laugh and rolled her eyes, while Luna just shook her head with a ghost of a smile, unsure if she should be impressed… or concerned.

Bonnie's laughter slowly faded, the soft crackling of the campfire filling the momentary silence between them. She tilted her head slightly, brushing a strand of fiery orange-red fur from her eyes as she gave Ghost a crooked smile. "Well, Ghost," she said, her voice light but laced with that familiar edge of foxlike honesty, "I’m a pirate. I’ve got no army, no code of standards. I’m just a girl who does what she wants, when she wants. Standards? Nah. I’ve always danced to my own tune."

Luna gave a faint smile at that but then gently turned her attention back to Ghost. Her voice was a little quieter now, more thoughtful, and tinged with genuine concern. "Also, Ghost... I was just going off what I knew, keep in mind. I’ve been gone for a thousand years. A whole millennium." She looked down at the fire, her expression clouding just slightly as if the flickering flames reflected memories she hadn't wanted to revisit. "So for all I know, things have changed. They must have. But... if I’m being honest, I don’t think everything changes that much. Not truly."

Then, her eyes turned toward him again—soft, searching, and concerned. "But there’s something else... how are you doing, really? I mean... mentally? You died, Ghost. That’s not a small thing. It’s not something someone can just brush off. You may look fine, strong, even steady right now\... but how are you really?"

Bonnie hummed softly as she leaned back a little, her tail flicking in thought. Luna’s words rang true. They made her pause. She’d just met Ghost, yeah—maybe thirty minutes ago, an hour tops—but still... he’d been calm, collected, and even generous. He gave her food. He spoke with steady words. He didn’t treat her like a stranger even though they clearly didn’t know each other. And that alone said something.

So even though she hadn’t known him long, she found herself sharing Luna’s concern. Her golden eyes flicked toward him, measuring, quietly watching.

Ghost didn’t respond right away. He was still. His eyes stared into the fire for a long, slow moment, the orange glow dancing across his features as he let their concern soak in. It was… strange, almost. Not bad. Just rare. He was used to comrades, brothers-in-arms, but that kind of concern had always come with a rough edge, a joke, a half-hearted jab. This was quiet, and it wasn’t forced.

Finally, his voice came, low but firm.

"Honestly? I’m doing okay," he said with a slow nod, but his eyes stayed on the fire. "Look… when you’re in the army—when you’re in a war—you know you can die. You accept it. Every day, every mission, it’s there. Waiting. I was ready for it. Willing, even. I didn’t leave much behind anyway… not much of a family left. Not many real friends either. Being a soldier… that was my life. It’s all I had left."

Luna's face tightened slightly, but she said nothing at first. There was something in the way he said it that made her think maybe this wasn’t just a soldier’s acceptance—it was someone who had been quietly grieving for a long time, even before the explosion. But she respected the boundaries in his tone. She nodded gently instead, the firelight catching in her midnight-blue eyes. “If you say so,” she said softly, and didn’t press the issue.

She looked away, exhaling slowly, and then spoke again with a distant warmth in her voice. “Me… I’m excited. But I’m also nervous. It’s been a thousand years, Ghost. A thousand. That’s how long I’ve been gone. And now I’m supposed to face my sister again. I wonder how much she’s changed. Or if she’ll even want to see me…” She looked down for a moment. “She’s all I have left. My only family. And after all that’s happened, after everything… I’m scared. Scared of what she’ll see when she looks at me.”

Bonnie gave a small, comforting smile and scooted just a little closer to the fire, eyes gentle as she looked at Luna. “Hey,” she said quietly, “Don’t overthink it. Just talk to her. Whatever happened back then... she’s your sister. I bet she’s been waiting to see you for just as long. Probably longer.”

Luna met her gaze and nodded, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips, grateful for the support.

Ghost, however, had been thinking—this moment felt right. The campfire, the quiet honesty in the air. He turned his head slightly, looking directly at Bonnie now.

He’d been wondering this since she revealed she wasn’t from this world either. In his mind, a theory had started forming, a quiet question that scratched at the edges of his thoughts. Was she… part of the story too? Did she ever join the Player?

"You?" he asked, his voice casual but with a sharp curiosity behind it. “You’re not from this planet. And this place isn’t part of your Spiral either. You could be stuck here, Bonnie. Did you leave anyone behind?”

Bonnie looked at him, then gave a simple shrug, not with sadness, just a matter-of-fact calmness that came from someone who’d already walked through her own conclusions. “Nope. Not really,” she said honestly. “I was solo. I never had a crew of my own, and to be honest, I never really cared for one. When I was younger, sure, there was one moment I thought about it…”

Ghost stayed quiet, listening closely, and Bonnie didn’t seem to notice the intensity in his eyes as she kept talking.

“I met a crew back on Skull Island. Some scrappy little band of misfits—funny, full of hope, like they thought they’d take on the world. I helped them out once. They were trying to find someone named Fin.” She smirked lightly at the memory, eyes distant. “I helped them get him. After that… they offered me a place on their crew. I thought about it. I almost joined them.”

Ghost hummed, a slight narrowing of his eyes as he pieced the memory together. She was describing the Player’s start—Fin Dorsal, Skull Island, the earliest threads of that journey. So she was there. She did start the path. But she didn’t follow it.

Bonnie continued, not noticing how much Ghost was studying her story. “But… I didn’t really like how they acted. Too noisy. Too wild. It didn’t sit right with me. So after we caught Fin, we split ways. They went off chasing whatever dreams they had. I stuck to my own path. I always did better that way.”

Ghost nodded slowly, his thoughts turning quietly in the back of his mind. That answered a lot. She had met the Player—but turned away. She wasn’t the Bonnie from the tale that helped storm the Armada. She was a variant, a version that carved her own way instead of following destiny’s leash.

“Interesting,” Ghost muttered. Not judgmental. Just intrigued.

Bonnie finally glanced over, catching the thoughtful look in his eyes, and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He shook his head with a small, neutral smile. “Just... interesting, that’s all.”

The fire popped once more, and for a moment, all three of them sat there in the quiet, the heat brushing their fur, the night wind whispering through the trees beyond their little clearing. They were strangers—different worlds, different lives—but in that quiet space, they shared something rare.

Honesty. Vulnerability. A rare moment where none of them were playing a role, or hiding behind armor.

And somehow, despite the chaos that had brought them here… they weren’t alone.

Chapter Text

As the glow of the fire crackled low and the sun dipped further behind the trees, shadows stretched longer, and the golden haze of late evening began to turn amber and dusky blue, Ghost found himself blinking, something subtle finally clicking in his mind. It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t dramatic, just a quiet realization, the kind that creeps in during a lull—something he’d noticed but hadn’t had the words for until now. Every time Luna had spoken about others, she never once said somepony. She said someone. Again and again. And that wasn’t just a slip of the tongue. In the show—even after her long banishment—Luna still spoke like the rest of the ponies. Everypony, somepony, anypony—that Equestrian dialect was consistent across the board, drilled into the culture like it was part of the air they breathed.

But she hadn’t used it once.

That was odd. Odd enough that Ghost’s thoughts lingered on it. He wanted to ask her about it, to understand why someone like her—who’d supposedly just returned after a thousand years of isolation—was using a term like someone instead of the expected Equestrian phrasing. But how could he even ask that? From their perspective, he was just some stranger who’d been wandering the forest, clearly new to their world, and totally cut off from Equestrian society. How would he know what their common speech was like unless he had seen it elsewhere?

It wasn’t worth the risk… not yet. So, he shelved the question, silently filing it away, and turned his attention instead to finishing what was left of the cooked fish. The others didn’t seem to notice his moment of reflection. The camp settled into a slow, quiet rhythm, and nothing significant stirred in the air. The rest of the evening passed in an oddly comforting haze—soft conversation, the last flickers of light fading from the sky, and the gentle lapping of the nearby river.

Bonnie, surprisingly, seemed to really enjoy talking with Luna. The two got along well, which was… unexpected. Bonnie had this fiercely independent streak, like she didn’t want to be tied to anyone or anything, but with Luna, she was open, maybe even a little relaxed. She also made an effort to talk with Ghost again here and there, though while he did respond, he didn’t offer much. His answers were brief, sometimes just a nod or a glance, but Bonnie didn’t seem to take offense. If anything, she rolled with it, unbothered by his silence, accepting that maybe he was just the type who didn’t like to speak unless something needed to be said.

Eventually, Ghost figured it had to be close to 6 p.m. now, the sun low but not yet gone, the horizon dimming to purple and burnt gold. He found himself walking again beside Luna, both of them stepping into the same river he’d followed for the better part of a week now. He didn’t say much as they waded in, the coolness of the water rising around his legs, soaking through his gear—which, of course, he was still wearing.

Some might’ve questioned it, but for him, it made perfect sense. The gear needed cleaning just like his body did, and stripping it off was always a tactical decision. Out here, in an unknown land, with unknown threats, removing it wasn’t worth the risk. Besides, it wasn’t like ponies cared about nudity. Luna certainly didn’t. She wasn’t wearing anything, just like most ponies never did. But that’s when he noticed something.

Bonnie was standing at the edge of the water, just outside of it—close enough to be watching, but she hadn’t moved a step forward. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she wasn’t facing them directly. Her eyes kept darting away, and more tellingly, her cheeks were tinted red beneath her fur. She wasn’t just standing there casually—she was hesitating, visibly uncomfortable.

And just like that, it all made sense.

Ghost couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at his mouth, subtle but sharp. She was embarrassed. Not about the water, no, but about the situation. Just like humans, she was bipedal, humanoid in structure. That meant clothing mattered to her—especially modesty. Even if ponies didn’t wear clothes, she clearly did for a reason. The way she deliberately avoided looking at Luna said enough, and she definitely didn’t want to strip down in front of two strangers—even if one of them was technically also unclothed by pony standards.

Ghost started walking toward her, the water rippling around him as he approached. The cold licked at his legs through the gear, but he didn’t care. Once he was close enough, standing just in front of her, he looked up, just slightly, and said casually, “So... not a fan of water or something?”

Bonnie looked at him, and the blush was still there, but her eyes had no trouble meeting his. He was, after all, fully dressed—drenched, sure, but still covered head to hoof in military-grade gear. She gave a small huff, her tone flustered but sharp. “I’m not sure you really understand…”

But then she saw that damn smirk on his face. Suspicion narrowed her golden eyes, and she gave him a slight glare, like she was trying to figure out just how much he knew.

Ghost nodded, his smirk not fading in the slightest. “Oh, I understand just fine,” he said evenly. “Fun fact—humans? Kinda look a lot like you. Stand on two legs, have two arms, same general shape. The only real differences were that we didn’t have fur, no tails, and our ears weren’t as… sharp. But otherwise? You’re basically the same as a human female.”

Bonnie blinked, taken aback.

He continued without hesitation, voice calm and almost clinical, like he was explaining a military formation. “And I also know why you’re still wearing clothes. Trust me, I noticed—same proportions, same shape. So yeah. You’re not stripping down because your ‘goods’ would be out in the open. And I get that. No judgment.”

Her eyes widened slightly, the blush intensifying, not because she was angry or offended—but because he was absolutely right. Not just right—completely, precisely correct. Her mouth opened slightly, then closed again. She wasn’t sure what shocked her more—that he figured it out so easily, or that humans sounded so similar to her species.

Eventually, her blush calmed a little, replaced by something more thoughtful. But the embarrassment returned full force when she realized what he’d said at the end. Her goods, out in the open. She exhaled hard, then just sighed, nodding in defeat. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right.”

Ghost didn’t gloat. He just nodded slowly.

“It’s just… I didn’t expect humans to be like me,” Bonnie admitted. “It’s weird. Kind of nice, though. Not having to explain everything. At first, I just assumed you were like Luna—ponies don’t seem to care about clothes. I figured you wore yours because of the military thing. I didn’t really think to ask what humans actually looked like.”

Ghost nodded. “Yeah, I get it. Honestly? It didn’t click with me either right away. When you’ve seen the kind of combat I have, nudity stops being a priority. It all gets trained out of you. But looking at you now, yeah—you’re built just like any human woman I’ve known.”

Bonnie gave a small nod, more understanding now. “Makes sense. When you’re busy saving your comrades’ lives, modesty isn’t exactly a big concern.”

The blush was gone now. She wasn’t embarrassed anymore. She felt seen, in a good way—understood. Ghost gave her a slow, approving nod. “When Luna’s done, I’ll let her know to give you privacy. I’ll explain why. Just a heads up though—ponies really don’t give a damn about nudity.”

Bonnie shrugged slightly. “Yeah, it doesn’t bother me too much. I mean, yeah, it’s still weird seeing them all unclothed, but they’re covered in fur, and their tails cover everything pretty well. I just… I’m not used to being around people without clothes. And... thanks, by the way. For coming over. For saying all that. For making me feel a little better. And… for planning to tell Luna. No offense to you or her, but I like my privacy. No way am I stripping in front of you two.”

Ghost gave her a nod of full agreement. “That’s fine. Just don’t be a fucking idiot about it. If you’re in the river cleaning and something attacks you, I don’t give a shit if you’re naked—you call for help. Last thing I want is to find you floating face down because you let your pride get in the way.”

Bonnie looked at him long and hard. And then, without warning, she smiled. Genuinely. “You know… I don’t think I’ve ever had someone who gave a damn about me like that. Hearing you say that? Kinda makes me happy. And don’t worry—I’m not dumb. I’m not risking my life over being naked. I’ll call for help.”

Ghost gave a quiet nod. “Good. I might not talk much, and I might seem cold, but I’m a soldier. Keeping people safe is what I do.”

Bonnie returned the nod, then, with a sly little glint in her eye, tilted her head and smirked. “So… if my body’s just like a human girl’s… am I hot?”

Ghost let out a sigh, heavy and full of the kind of exhaustion only women’s games could bring. His expression didn’t change—deadpan, unimpressed.

Every girl’s the same.

He didn’t even answer the question directly. He just said, “Remind me later—I gotta explain what a furry is. I was one. Still am.”

Bonnie blinked, utterly thrown. That wasn’t an answer. That was something else. “What’s a furry?” she mumbled to herself, watching Ghost turn and walk calmly back into the river.

And for some reason, the hair on her neck stood up slightly.

Why… why did she have a feeling that it was about her?

Bonnie Anne remained by the edge of the river, her sharp eyes following the retreating figures of Ghost and Princess Luna as they stepped out of the shallow current and onto the grassy bank just beyond the camp. The way they moved—silent, easy, without fanfare or pause—told her immediately that Ghost had done exactly what he said he would. He'd spoken to Luna about her discomfort, had explained it simply and without making a scene, and, perhaps more importantly, Luna hadn’t reacted with scorn or confusion. There was no teasing, no mocking questions shouted back her way, no awkward glances cast over their shoulders.

It was, if she were being honest with herself, one of the most considerate things anyone had done for her in quite some time.

She exhaled slowly, her arms still crossed over her chest as she watched them wander a bit further off, just past the main circle of the camp. They didn’t go far—just enough to be out of her direct line of sight, enough to give her space. They sat down beside each other, close but not too close, their forms outlined in the fading orange glow of the setting sun. As the river's current babbled gently beside her, Bonnie caught the faint shimmer of conversation between the two—quiet voices, too soft to make out, carried only briefly by the wind before vanishing into the rustling of leaves overhead.

They weren’t looking. Not once. Not even a sideways glance.

The realization came with a small breath that left her lips shakier than she expected. She hadn’t been aware of how tightly she'd been gripping herself, how hard her heart had been pounding, until that moment of silent trust hit her fully. And it wasn’t just the fact that they weren’t watching—it was that they never intended to. That simple gesture spoke volumes. Ghost hadn’t been humoring her. He meant what he said. And Luna… for all the regal aura and otherworldly power she carried, she hadn’t once acted entitled or intrusive. They were giving her space, privacy, respect—and that was rare currency in the Spiral.

Her golden eyes lingered on the two ponies a moment longer, watching their stillness, then slowly she allowed herself a small, cautious nod.

Trust had to start somewhere.

With that thought warming her heart just a little, she began to undress. One article at a time, deliberately, carefully, fingers hesitating on old fabric, boots creaking softly as she loosened the laces and tugged them free. She slipped off her boots first, setting them gently beside her with the care of someone who had relied on them through countless miles. Then came her socks, damp with sweat and dust from the road, peeled away from her paws and pressed neatly atop the boots. Her hat came next, the feather trembling slightly in the wind as she took it off and cradled it briefly in her hands before setting it down beside her pack.

Her coat—deep red with navy trim—fell next, the Highlander fabric weighty with soaked-in sun and travel. It whispered as she folded it across her knees, the gold buttons catching the fading sunlight. Beneath it, the lighter shirt she wore clung faintly to her fur, and she slipped that off as well, revealing the copper-orange of her coat in full to the wind and the woods around her.

All the while, she glanced up again and again—just checking. Ghost and Luna hadn’t moved. They were still seated, backs partially turned, engaged in some slow, thoughtful exchange she couldn’t hear but could feel the mood of—calm, steady, composed.

Swallowing a breath, she stood slowly and undid the fastenings of her pants, sliding them down with a soft swish. The light wind danced over her legs and tail, brushing against her bare fur in a way that felt startling at first, but not unpleasant. She stretched subtly, loosening up muscles that had been held tight in hesitation. Then, with a deep breath, she removed the last of her garments—bra and undergarments—folding them neatly and setting them beside the rest.

Fully nude now, she felt the cool of the evening air wrap around her body, light and fresh, not oppressive like it sometimes could be back on her homeworld. And most importantly—no one looked. Not a single glance. Not even from Ghost.

That made her smile.

The river was colder than it looked, and she hissed softly under her breath as she stepped in, the chill rushing over her paws and legs and climbing quickly until it washed over her shoulders. But once she was submerged, it was easier—gentler. She dipped her head beneath the surface, golden eyes briefly blinking against the murky water as she let herself float for a second, limbs outstretched in weightless surrender. Her tail swirled behind her, the water catching it like silk threads trailing in a current.

As she washed, scrubbing gently through her fur, working out the grime and sweat from the day's travel, her thoughts wandered. Ghost had surprised her. Really surprised her. Not just because he hadn’t looked—but because of everything leading up to that moment. His words earlier… she could still hear them. Firm, blunt, clear. If you're in the river, cleaning, and you get attacked—I don’t give two shits if you’re nude, you better call for help.

He hadn’t said it to impress her. He hadn’t said it to sound noble. He’d said it because he meant it. Because he actually cared.

It had been so long since someone cared without wanting something back. So long since someone offered help without angling for leverage. In the Spiral, kindness was often a mask—one that hid knives behind smiles and ropes behind outstretched hands. She’d seen it too often. Lived it. But Ghost… Ghost had given her no reason to doubt. And somehow that scared her more than if he had.

A warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the water. She closed her eyes, letting the current tug lightly at her limbs as she relaxed for the first time in days—maybe weeks. She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but eventually, she turned her attention to her clothing. It wasn’t terribly dirty, but it didn’t hurt to freshen it up. She spent another ten minutes at least, washing each piece by hand in the river, squeezing the fabric gently and laying it out nearby on the rocks.

Once done, she climbed out slowly, shaking droplets from her fur and wringing out her tail. Her skin prickled at the contrast between water and wind, but she didn’t hesitate. She moved to her clothing, still damp but cleaner, and dressed without delay. Bra, underwear, shirt, pants, coat. Every piece snug against her damp fur, a little uncomfortable maybe—but a small price to pay for peace of mind and not making Ghost and Luna wait any longer than they already had.

By the time she laced up her boots and adjusted her hat back into place atop her still-damp ears, her gaze flicked once more toward the two ponies seated not far off.

Still talking. Still not looking.

A small smile pulled at the corner of her lips.

Maybe today was the start of something new. Maybe it wasn’t just another stop on a long road. Maybe—just maybe—it was the start of a real crew.

And with that quietly blooming hope tucked close to her heart, she turned and padded softly toward them, her steps light, cautious—but not hesitant.

Not anymore.

As I stepped lightly across the soft grass, each footfall squishing faintly against the damp earth, I could feel the residual chill of the river clinging to my fur beneath the half-damp folds of my clothing, the fabric heavy with water but bearable thanks to the gentle heat still rising from the early evening sun. The flickering glow of the campfire ahead pulled at my eyes, inviting, steady, and warm, a sharp contrast to the coolness that still clung to my limbs. I caught the shift of movement ahead, the subtle turning of heads, as both Ghost and Luna heard me approaching. Their eyes found me easily in the dimming light—Ghost with his usual, unreadable expression that bordered somewhere between calm and calculating, and Luna with that soft, reserved sort of curiosity that never felt invasive, only... interested.

I smiled at them, and even though the fabric of my shirt stuck a little to my fur, and the wind still teased against the wet cuffs of my pants, I found myself speaking with a casual cheer that came surprisingly easy.

“Well, I’m done,” I said lightly, tilting my head toward the fire. “Come on over, let’s all warm up and dry off.”

They didn’t question me. They didn’t hesitate. Ghost simply gave a single, solid nod—the kind that told you he didn’t waste energy on unnecessary words when a simple gesture would do—and Luna, ever the graceful one, dipped her head with a quiet smile that said more than enough. Together, the three of us made our way back into the heart of the camp, the fire’s soft crackling filling the silence between us until we all eased into place around it.

The warmth felt amazing. Like the sun condensed into a single point, radiating out and wrapping around us like a blanket. I stretched my arms subtly, curling my tail a little tighter around my leg as I settled in, the firelight dancing off the tips of my damp fur and making the orange and red of my coat shimmer like coals. I looked between them, my expression softening just slightly—just enough to let the sincerity seep through.

“Thank you both,” I said, voice quieter now, more measured, the flames reflecting in my golden eyes. “For letting me do that. For not… you know. Making it awkward.”

Ghost didn’t say anything right away. He just gave that same nod again, steady and sure. No awkward shifting, no flickering gaze. He meant it. Luna, however, gave me a smile that was touched with understanding—just a little sad, a little wistful—and her voice was gentle when she said, “Of course. No problem at all.”

It struck me just how rare this was—two complete strangers, letting me do something so vulnerable, and not once trying to take advantage of it. I’d been traveling for so long, been through so many crews, so many ports, and more than a few betrayals, that I’d forgotten what it felt like to be respected just because you asked for it.

But the moment passed quickly as Ghost turned his gaze on me with that sharp-eyed focus of his, and in that cool, matter-of-fact voice he asked, “So Bonnie… you’re a pirate, right? Was thinking, you’d have a weapon or something.”

I blinked, not expecting the question to come so suddenly, but it wasn’t rude or accusing—just curious. I nodded and shifted a little closer to the fire.

“I do. Or… did,” I said with a sigh, my ears twitching slightly with frustration. “When that weird light showed up—the one that yanked me here—my weapons didn’t come with me. I only realized that once the panic died down.”

Then I frowned, my brows pulling together slowly as the memory crawled back into focus. “Actually… I bet someone stole them.”

Luna’s eyes dimmed slightly at that, her mouth turning downward with quiet empathy. Ghost didn’t say anything—just nodded again, slow and solemn, like he understood what that meant. Like he’d seen it before.

“I used to carry a musket,” I said, folding my arms loosely across my chest as the fire warmed my damp shirt. “Or a flintlock rifle, depending on the job. I was really good with them. Sharpshooting was kind of my thing.”

Ghost’s face twitched slightly in something that might’ve been approval, and he gave a slight grunt of agreement. Luna, on the other hoof, tilted her head with a soft frown.

“What is a musket? Or… a flintlock rifle?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.

I blinked, then hummed thoughtfully, glancing between the two. “Wait… are guns even a thing here?”

Luna shook her head gently. “No. Not in Equestria.”

But Ghost… Ghost gave me a look that told me he absolutely knew. He knew more than I expected. That same unreadable expression on his face, but behind his eyes was a storm of memories, of facts, of experience.

“Of course you know,” I said with a quiet laugh, blinking in surprise. “Seems like our worlds might be a little closer than I thought.”

Luna nodded when I asked about bows and crossbows, confirming they did have those. I smiled a bit and added, “Well, a musket is kind of like a crossbow, but way more deadly. It shoots using explosive powder and a metal ball.”

Luna hummed softly, her expression focused, a little tight around the eyes, clearly trying to imagine it.

Ghost leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing just a bit, and asked, “So what do your guns shoot?”

I shrugged, casually tossing out, “Fast lightning balls, really.”

But he didn’t laugh or smirk or even blink. He just nodded and said, “You might have fur on, but I know what a gun is. I also know what a musket or flintlock rifle is.”

That stopped me cold. My ears perked, and I blinked again, this time with real surprise. “Wow. Our worlds have so many things in common.”

“True,” he said. “But the weapons from my world… they’re way more advanced than anything you had. Your muskets and flintlocks were one-shot deals—you fire, reload, fire again. In my world, every soldier in the army has a fully automatic rifle. Each one can hold up to thirty rounds and fire them all off in five seconds. Some can shoot even faster. Light machine guns—LMGs—they hold two hundred rounds, and depending on the model, they can empty the whole belt in twenty seconds or less.”

I stared at him, my mind trying to grasp what he just said. That wasn’t just impressive… that was terrifying. The sheer scale of firepower he was describing sounded like something out of a nightmare.

“And,” he added calmly, “our guns don’t shoot lightning. They shoot bullets. Small, fast, super deadly. You can’t dodge them. By the time you hear the shot, the bullet’s already hit you.”

I just… stared. Eyes wide. Tail still.

“Your whole army had weapons like that?” I asked, barely above a whisper.

Ghost gave a grim nod. “Every single one.”

My mind spun. The Spiral had its dangers—magic, swords, cannons, even monsters—but this… this was something else entirely. No slow reloading, no single shots. Just constant, rapid-fire death. His army wouldn’t fight wars—they’d end them before they even began.

“Forget fighting your army,” I muttered, stunned. “You could steamroll over the entire Spiral. There wouldn’t be a fight.”

He shrugged. “I haven’t even gotten to support units. Or vehicles. Or air support. Or artillery.”

I could feel Luna staring at him the same way I was—wide-eyed and stunned, her lips slightly parted as if the weight of what he was describing hadn’t quite finished sinking in.

I turned slowly, looked at him with something between awe and disbelief, and asked, “And… you guys were at war? Like… actually fighting?”

Ghost gave the faintest smirk, a dry, humorless glint in his eye. “Yeah. Some really dumbass people thought they could take us on.”

I blinked once.

Then again.

“…Well, fuck,” I said, voice quiet and honest. “Your army sounds badass.”

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure if I was amazed… or a little scared. Maybe both.

From where I sat, the firelight catching the edges of Ghost’s armor and casting little flickering shadows along the curve of his helmet, I just couldn’t quite believe it. Not just the way he said it, that calm, easy tone like he wasn’t even bragging—but the content. The sheer scale. The idea that every single soldier in his army, every last one of them, walked into battle carrying firepower and armor that made the deadliest pirates in the Spiral look like children playing at sword fights.

I glanced over at Luna, curious how she was taking all of this, and even in the low light I could see the expression on her face—eyes wide, mouth ever so slightly parted, like she was still reeling from what she’d just heard. I wasn’t even sure she understood all the little details—like what exactly a “bullet” was, or how fast thirty rounds in five seconds really meant—but the emotional weight of it? Yeah, I think that hit her. It definitely hit me.

Because the more I thought about it, the more I realized just how far ahead Ghost’s world must have been. He wasn’t talking about a better sword or a stronger cannon. He was talking about technology, tools, gear, tactics—all of it so advanced, so refined, that it made everything we used look like toys by comparison. And that was just the guns. He’d mentioned air support and artillery and vehicles, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine what those looked like. In the Spiral, our “vehicles” were mostly skyships—wooden hulls, sails, floating through the air with magic and windstones—but the way he said it, I got the impression that whatever his world used made ours look like rickety rafts.

I turned my head slowly, still watching the fire crackle and cast dancing orange light on Ghost’s gear. His helmet caught the glow, smooth and matte black, and I could see just how solid it was—nothing decorative, nothing flashy. Just built to survive. And I couldn’t help it. The question slipped out before I even realized I was saying it.

“So… what’s normal for a soldier in your army to have on them?”

Ghost didn’t hesitate. He didn’t have to think. This was second nature to him—etched into his bones.

“Automatic rifle,” he said, like he was ticking items off a checklist. “Then a sidearm—pistol. Ammunition for both. Some basic medical supplies. Full body armor, like what I’m wearing now.”

He tapped his chest with a hoof, the faint clink of gear against armor giving the statement a solid punctuation.

“Also,” he went on, his voice still that calm, level tone, like this was just another day in the field, “flash grenades. Stun grenades. Smoke grenades. And frags—explosive grenades.”

He gave a little nod, the same way someone might nod at the end of a grocery list.

“That’s the standard loadout. But if you're a specialist—like anti-tank, sniper, combat medic—then your kit changes a bit.”

I just stared at him.

Mouth open. Tail still. Ears angled fully forward.

Every single soldier. Not just commanders. Not just elite units. Every single one of them, that geared up? Fully armored? Fully armed? With tools to blind, to deafen, to smoke out enemies, to blow things up? With medical kits to patch up wounds right in the middle of a battlefield?

In the Spiral, if a pirate went into battle, they were expected to bring their own weapons—whatever they could afford, whatever they could carry. Some had swords. Some had pistols. A few lucky ones might have a cannon or two. But gear like that? Gear like Ghost was describing? That wasn’t even a dream. It wasn’t possible.

I looked at him again—really looked. His gear was a lot easier to appreciate now, now that I knew just how standard it had been for his kind. Full clothing under the armor—pants, shirt, even boots—and then on top of that, the armor itself, sleek and black and perfectly fitted to his frame. Even his helmet, which at first I thought looked strange for a pony, now made sense. It was made for battle. Not to look cool. Not to show off. Just to protect.

And if every soldier was that well-equipped…

A part of me almost wished Ghost’s army had made it into the Spiral. I couldn’t help but imagine what would’ve happened if they had—the Armada, that cold, mechanical empire trying to strangle the skies, would’ve been wiped out in an instant. Ghost’s soldiers wouldn’t have fought them. They would’ve annihilated them.

But then again… pirates probably wouldn’t have fared much better.

And that was when the weight of the thought settled in, slow and uncomfortable.

“Maybe,” I muttered under my breath, “it’s a good thing your army isn’t in the Spiral…”

Because for all the wrongs we fight, for all the tyrants we try to push back, pirates like me… we’re still chaotic, messy, half-lost souls drifting from port to port. We’re not perfect. We’re not organized. We wouldn’t stand a chance against an army like that.

And for all my admiration—my honest awe—at what Ghost had been part of… there was a small, quiet fear nestled in my chest now. A fear of what would’ve happened if that army had come through. Not just to our enemies.

But to all of us.

From where he sat, just barely out of reach of the fire’s warm flickering edge, Ghost kept his gaze locked onto Bonnie’s face, studying her expression like he’d been trained to do in a hundred debriefings—sharp eyes catching every twitch of surprise, every subtle shift in her brow, every glance that lingered just a second too long. She wasn’t trying to hide the shock; hell, she probably couldn’t. Her jaw was still slightly slack, and her eyes were wide with that half-excited, half-disbelieving gleam that always showed up when someone first realized just how far ahead humanity was when it came to the art of war. He didn’t blame her. It was a lot to take in, especially if your frame of reference was flintlocks and cannons rigged into sailing ships.

He turned his attention toward Luna next, watching how the alicorn princess was processing all of this. Her wings were tucked tight to her sides, her eyes fixed not on him, but on the fire—as if the flames might offer answers she couldn’t find in his words. She looked shocked, sure, but in a different way than Bonnie. Her expression was more distant, like she was trying to picture it all in her mind but coming up short. And honestly, Ghost couldn’t blame her for that either.

Because how could she understand? She came from a world where a crossbow was considered advanced weaponry. A world of magic and myth, where things were powered by ancient runes and enchanted gemstones—not shaped steel and ballistic science. The most she could probably imagine was some hyper-powered version of a bow—one that fired faster than any pony could load, with bolts too fast to see. But it still wasn’t the same. Not even close.

Bonnie, at least, had a better baseline. She’d held guns before. Used them. She knew the weight of a flintlock, the way powder burned and smoke curled and recoil kicked back against your shoulder. She understood what it meant to aim, to breathe, to fire. So when he talked about automatic rifles and thirty-round mags and light machine guns tearing through cover like paper, she had something real to compare it to. Something tangible.

And sure enough, it didn’t take long before she turned those wide, fascinated eyes on him again. There was a flicker of something behind them now—curiosity, a bit of mischief, maybe even longing. She leaned forward just a little, her tail flicking behind her, and with a crooked little grin said, “Call me crazy, but… I kinda really want to see your weapons.”

Ghost blinked. His brow rose slightly, one eyebrow lifting beneath the edge of his helmet, and for just a second he wasn’t sure if she was being serious or teasing again. But then she huffed, that same Bonnie-style frustration mixed with pride, and added, “Look, I like to shoot guns for fun too, you know.”

That made Ghost nod, just once, a faint smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. He got it. Oh yeah, he definitely got it. “Oh, yeah. The weapons back in my world? They were fun all right,” he said, voice calm but tinged with the ghost of memories that carried weight. “Lotta noise, lotta power. Hell, some folks shot just for sport. Target shooting. Competitive ranges. Recreational stuff.”

Bonnie nodded in agreement, her smile softening into something more thoughtful. “Yeah… kinda sad now. I get to miss out on that.” Then her ears drooped slightly, and the sparkle in her eye dimmed just a little. “But… at least I don’t have to see the war.”

Ghost’s gaze settled on her again, and this time the smirk was gone. Replaced with a quiet, solemn look—the kind that came from seeing too much, knowing too much. “Yeah,” he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of it. “It was bad.”

He paused for a moment, letting the fire pop and crackle in the silence. Then he added, “Still… a lot of it was captured on video. Put online. So… even people who weren’t there… they still saw it.”

That made both Luna and Bonnie blink, their heads turning toward him almost in sync. Bonnie tilted hers slightly. “Video?” she asked, clearly puzzled. “Sorry, but… I don’t know what that is.”

Luna nodded slowly in agreement. “The term is unfamiliar to me as well.”

Ghost exhaled and gave a slow nod, realizing again just how far apart their worlds were in some ways. “Right… of course you wouldn’t.” He glanced at the two of them and tried to think of the easiest way to explain. “You know what a photo is, right?”

They both nodded.

“Well… a video is like a photo that moves. It captures motion and sound. It’s like… a memory you can watch over and over again. Another way to think about it—it’s like a play. Something you can watch like a theater performance. But it’s recorded. You can replay it whenever you want, wherever you want. On a device.”

Both of them went quiet for a second, then Bonnie’s face lit up in fascination. “Like… you could see the battle again? Like it happened yesterday?”

Ghost nodded. “Exactly. Most soldiers had helmet cams—small devices built into their helmets that recorded everything they saw and heard. Partly for intel, partly for documentation. Some of that footage… it ended up online, where civilians could watch it.”

Bonnie’s eyes widened, and Luna’s lips parted, her expression somewhere between intrigue and unease. Ghost could practically see the gears turning in their heads.

Then Luna’s eyes suddenly went even wider. “Wait…” she said slowly, staring directly at his helmet. “If that is true… then do you have one?”

Bonnie looked stunned, then whipped her head toward him. “Wait, do you?!”

Ghost paused, suddenly aware of the weight of his helmet sitting on his head. His brows drew together slightly, and without a word, he reached up and unlatched the clips, pulling it off with practiced ease. His red eyes scanned the inside of the helm, and sure enough—right there near the top ridge—was the lens, still intact. Still staring.

He blinked once. “Well… damn. Forgot I had one. But yeah. I do.”

He looked up at them both, seeing the surprise, the interest, the sudden intensity of attention. “So… yeah. I guess you could see a little of my world after all. Some of the combat I was in. If it was recording when I got pulled into this place, there might even be footage from that moment. Although the memory’s probably full by now.”

Neither Bonnie nor Luna moved. They were just… staring. Not in fear. Not exactly. But in that hushed, captivated way that people do when they’re about to learn something that could change the way they see the world.

And for a split second, Ghost found himself wondering what they’d think of it. Of his world. Of the endless chaos, the modern war machines, the dirt and the blood and the noise and the confusion. Of the soldiers yelling, running, bleeding, firing—living on adrenaline and dying on asphalt.

He wondered if they'd still want to see it. Still want to understand it.

Because seeing a weapon was one thing.

Watching it used?

That was something else entirely.

The fire crackled softly between them, casting long, flickering shadows that danced across the trees and painted every face in shifting hues of orange and red, the warmth seeping just deep enough into his coat to fight off the evening’s chill. Ghost held the helmet in his hooves, the matte black surface dull in the firelight, his gaze lingering on the small embedded lens near the brow, that tiny, unblinking eye that had recorded so much of his life—moments of silence, of waiting, of chaos, of blood and fire and pain—and perhaps, if it had been running the whole time, even the impossible instant where everything had changed. Where he had left one world and slammed without warning into this one.

Bonnie’s eyes were locked on it, wide and fascinated, while Luna—quiet and thoughtful—watched him with an almost regal stillness that didn’t quite hide her interest. He could read them both easily now. Bonnie had always worn her emotions on her sleeve, and Luna… she might’ve been better at hiding her thoughts, but she wasn’t unreadable. Not anymore. He could see that same subtle pull of curiosity, that silent tug that made people lean forward without even realizing it.

Still holding the helmet in one hoof, he exhaled slowly through his nose and said, “Well… even if you want to see it, you can’t. This thing recorded, yeah—but I don’t have anything to play it back on. It needs a connection, a screen, something to project it. Without that, you’re out of luck.”

And just like that, the mood shifted. He didn’t need words to read the disappointment that washed across their faces like a shadow crossing the firelight. Bonnie’s ears dipped and her shoulders slumped just a little, the excitement in her expression fading into something softer, more wistful. Luna’s reaction was subtler—her posture barely changed, but her eyes, those deep, starlit cyan eyes, dimmed slightly with quiet regret.

It tugged at him more than he expected.

Then Luna tilted her head slightly, one ear perking up as she looked at him with thoughtful curiosity. “So… you need something to show what’s in that device? Something to… project it?”

He nodded, lifting the small camera unit from the helmet, turning it slowly in his hooves until the tiny port on its side faced her. “Yeah. Back in my world, we’d plug it into a terminal or a mobile device—something with a screen. Then we could watch whatever was recorded. But unless you’ve got a magic crystal that can turn into a computer, we’re kinda stuck.”

Luna was quiet for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly, then her eyes lit up as if something had just clicked into place. “Actually… there is a spell I know,” she said slowly, the idea forming in her mind even as she spoke. “It’s meant for public speaking—say, if I were giving a royal address to a large crowd in a city. I cast it on myself, and it creates an illusion—a projection—of me above the square, so everypony can see and hear me clearly. Like a large, visible echo. It shows my form and mimics my voice exactly. Do you think… that might work?”

Ghost blinked, considering that. “Huh… I mean, maybe. I’m not sure how it’d work on a machine instead of a person, though.” He held the small black camera unit up, turning it toward her. “See this little port? This is what we’d normally plug into something. All the data’s in here, but we’d need something to translate it into a signal the spell could read. Can your magic… do that?”

Then another thought occurred to him, something that had been quietly bugging him ever since they’d been trudging through these woods. He looked at Luna, frowning slightly. “Also, wait a second. I thought your magic was still weak. If it’s not, why the hell are we still in this damn forest? Can’t you teleport us out?”

Bonnie blinked in surprise, her ears perking at that. “Wait, you can teleport?”

Ghost raised an eyebrow at Luna, clearly not buying what she’d claimed earlier. But Luna just rolled her eyes and gave him a withering, princess-grade deadpan. “Firstly,” she said with that signature, unamused tone of hers, “the spell I mentioned is very low in power and relatively easy to cast. Even in my current condition, I can manage it without strain. Teleportation, however, is a very different matter.”

She shifted her weight slightly, her expression firm but not annoyed—more like a teacher correcting a clueless student. “I am still recovering, Ghost. While my strength is slowly returning, I’m nowhere near ready for long-range teleportation. Especially not blind jumps. Teleporting somewhere I haven’t physically been recently is extremely dangerous. I could appear inside solid rock, beneath the earth, in midair—or worse. And I’ve been gone for over a thousand years. I don’t know what’s changed, what buildings have moved, what structures exist now. I am not going to risk that.”

Ghost leaned back slightly and shrugged. “Well damn. Guess you don’t have much of an adventurous spirit, huh?”

That earned him an unblinking stare from Luna so flat, so dry, that even Bonnie couldn’t help but burst into a smirk.

Bonnie covered her mouth with one paw, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh wow,” she chuckled. “Did you really just say that to her?”

He turned to Bonnie with a slight grin of his own. “Hey, at least you have an adventurous spirit. I mean, you’re a pirate, after all.”

Bonnie arched one orange eyebrow, crossing her arms and giving him a look that was half offended, half entertained. “Okay, first of all, just because I’m a pirate doesn’t automatically mean I’ve got an adventurous spirit. That’s a stereotype, you know.”

She paused, then shrugged, the smirk creeping back across her muzzle. “Buuuut… I do like adventuring. So… I guess you got me there.”

Ghost nodded with mock solemnity. “Exactly. Thank you for proving my point.”

Luna groaned softly and facehoofed, muttering something about “foalish stallions” under her breath, but there was a trace of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth nonetheless.

Ghost sat back, the fire crackling warmly beside them, the strange little camera unit resting on the ground near his hoof. They still didn’t have a way to play the footage, not yet—but they were one step closer. And more importantly, they were talking, laughing, learning.

Three souls from three very different worlds—sitting together around a fire, under the stars, trying to understand each other.

As the last of the evening’s warmth clung to the fading edges of the firelight, Ghost sat there, still, with the weight of the day folding itself neatly into the corners of his mind like a closed mission file. His eyes wandered lazily toward Luna, catching the way her mane shifted with the wind—those swirling stars glowing faintly like the dying embers between them. But what stuck with him wasn't the fire or the air or even the words they’d shared. No, it was something subtle. Something small.

Something she said.

Everypony.

That word.

That damned word.

He blinked slowly, his brow furrowing as the moment replayed itself in his mind. She’d been explaining the spell, how she projected her image in cities, and then she’d just said it like it was the most normal thing in the world: everypony. Not everyone. Not every creature. Just… everypony. And now it buzzed in his head like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. She usually didn't say it. Most of the time, she used more neutral words. Maybe for him. Maybe not. But now?

Did she just slip? Or does she just… use either as she sees fit?

He sat there a few seconds longer, watching the flames curl around a half-burnt log, then exhaled through his nose. In the end, it didn’t really matter, did it? It was just words. He wasn’t about to fight a princess over vocabulary. He had bigger issues on his plate—like how to project helmet footage using lunar magic, or the fact that today’s peace could be shattered by tomorrow’s chaos.

Still, the thought hovered.

But instead of dwelling on it, he shifted his weight and glanced at the two mares beside him—Luna sitting tall, her expression unreadable but eyes bright with that still-burning curiosity, and Bonnie lounging like a cat who’d found the warmest stone in the sun, that small, relaxed smirk still lingering on her muzzle.

Ghost gave a small shrug and said flatly, “Well, we can try the whole projection thing tomorrow. After we all get some sleep. It's getting late, and, well—no offense—I really don’t want to wake up in the middle of the night to you screaming from a nightmare after seeing the crap I’ve got recorded.”

His tone was half-joking, half-serious—but as soon as the words left his mouth, he could see it. That sharp glint in Luna’s eye. The flick of her ear. That slow turn of her head as she fixed him with a look that could cut steel if sharpened just a little more.

“I was possessed by Nightmare Moon,” she said with the faintest edge in her voice, like a breeze brushing across a blade. “I think I’ll be fine.”

Ghost blinked, but before he could say a word, Bonnie chimed in, her tone dry but tinged with a smirk. “And I’m a pirate, believe it or not. I’ve seen some seriously messed up stuff. Ghost, you’d be amazed what a drunk captain and a cannonball can do to a crew’s morale.”

He couldn’t help but snort at that, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, alright. Still—whether you’ve seen horrors or been possessed by evil, we’re all getting tired, and I’m not the type who likes to take unnecessary risks.”

He paused, watching Luna’s expression harden just slightly.

“I mean it,” he added, a bit softer but still firm. “It’s late. You need sleep. I need sleep. We all do. We’ll mess with the spell in the morning, after we’ve had rest.”

Luna narrowed her eyes slightly, her wings shifting ever so subtly against her sides. “So what are you really saying here, Ghost? That you’re just putting it off? That you don’t trust me to handle what I see? Or that you think I’m still too messed up to help, even when I say I’m not tired?”

There was no outright anger in her voice, but there was tension. Resentment coiled just under the surface, not hostile, but clearly born from frustration—maybe not even directed at him, but still there, raw and simmering.

Ghost met her eyes without flinching, his voice low and steady. “No. I just don’t like to take chances when I don’t have to. That’s all. This world’s thrown enough weird shit at me already. Call it caution. Call it whatever you want. But I’d rather you be rested than risk you burning yourself out trying to read a combat video from a tech system your world’s never even seen.”

For a moment, the fire cracked louder than the space between them.

Then Luna exhaled through her nose, her lips pressing into a thin line as she turned her gaze back toward the trees. She didn’t argue again. Not directly. But her silence was pointed.

Bonnie, meanwhile, let out a chuckle and lazily stretched her arms overhead. “Honestly,” she said, flicking an ear, “I find all this back-and-forth hilarious. You two argue like an old couple. One’s grumpy and stubborn, the other’s all majestic and dramatic.”

Luna groaned softly. Ghost sighed.

“You’re not helping, pirate,” he muttered, but there was no heat in it.

She just smirked wider, clearly enjoying herself.

As the quiet settled in and the stars wheeled overhead, the fire burned lower, licking at the last of the dry wood. The forest around them hushed into a soft rhythm of crickets and the occasional breeze that brushed gently through the leaves, tugging faintly at their manes and fur.

Ghost lay down on his side, his helmet resting beside him, the blackened camera eye staring blankly into the night. His body, despite everything, welcomed the rest, the long tension of the day finally giving way to stillness. His thoughts, though, drifted restlessly.

Bonnie had shown up out of nowhere, completely unexpected—and yet, it felt like she belonged now. Like this ragtag trio was starting to settle into something that worked. She brought an edge, a spark, and a laugh that kept things from getting too heavy. But beneath it all, Ghost knew things weren’t just casual. Bonnie had her own stories, her own pain, her own fights—ones she hadn't told yet. He respected that.

Luna was still a puzzle. Maybe not as sharp and mysterious as she’d been when they first met, but there were layers under her calm, pieces of her that still hadn’t settled right. He could feel it in the way she responded to certain things—like his comment about nightmares. Maybe she wasn’t as past all of it as she wanted to be.

But those thoughts eventually drifted into the fog of sleep, even as the stars kept shining overhead, indifferent and cold, but beautiful all the same. Tomorrow would come. And with it, maybe answers. Maybe even footage of a world long gone.

For now, he let the fire’s dying warmth carry him off.

And in the silence, with the trees standing like dark sentinels around them, Ghost finally closed his eyes and surrendered to the night.

The fire crackled softly in front of them, low and steady, its orange fingers licking lazily at the half-burnt logs nestled in the ash-covered pit, casting a warm, dancing glow across the surrounding grass and the boots of two very amused onlookers. Ghost sat still, shoulders relaxed but spine straight, eyes half-lidded as he watched Luna with quiet, contained amusement, his forelegs crossed in front of him while the blackened body of his helmet sat beside him on a flat rock, the small port on its side faintly shimmering with the occasional flicker of dark blue magic. Beside him, Bonnie leaned back just a little, her arms propped behind her, one leg bent slightly over the other as she chewed lazily on a blade of grass she'd picked out of the dirt, her golden eyes half-lidded but glinting with mirth as they followed every tiny twitch of Luna’s wings and ears while the alicorn silently grumbled at the helmet like it had personally insulted her.

It was late morning now, the sun climbing past the treetops with a gentle warmth that soaked into the clearing but didn’t scorch it, birds occasionally chirping overhead but otherwise the world was relatively still. The forest around them was alive but quiet, as if it too was waiting to see if Luna could actually pull this spell off.

And she was trying—no doubt about that.

Ghost could see the faint, steady aura of her magic swirling along the small, square port on the side of the helmet, like a glowing ribbon of soft indigo that refused to properly connect. Every now and then, a few sparks would pop or a brief flicker of a projection would tease itself into existence—maybe a vague, ghostly shape or the faintest whisper of sound—but nothing stayed, nothing was stable, and certainly nothing was clear.

She had been at it for two hours now. Ghost had been keeping track in that calm, soldier way of his, not with impatience but simply by noting the passing of time, the change in the sun’s angle, the number of times Bonnie shifted position or rolled her eyes.

He tilted his head slowly, cracking his neck with a faint pop, then turned his red eyes lazily toward the fox sitting next to him. "So," he said dryly, voice low and smooth like a chuckle trapped in a whisper, "you think the cam’s just gonna explode at this point?"

Bonnie didn't even look at him at first. She just arched one slender brow, pulled the blade of grass from her mouth, twirled it between her fingers, then gave a slow, foxlike smirk that tugged just a little more on the corner of her muzzle. “Honestly? There's a good chance,” she said, voice casual and amused. “I mean, knowing your world, it’s probably booby-trapped to fry itself if the wrong kind of signal touches it.”

That earned a grunt of half-laughter from Ghost, but it also earned something else—an audible, sharp huff from just a few feet away.

Luna, who was now standing over the helmet with her wings half-flared and her horn glowing with just the tiniest hint of frustrated urgency, turned her head ever so slightly, one eye twitching as she muttered something under her breath that definitely wasn’t polite. She’d heard them. Oh, she had absolutely heard them, and she wasn’t thrilled.

Ghost smirked wider. Bonnie, ever the instigator when she was bored, leaned forward just slightly and rested her elbows on her knees, her eyes twinkling like sunlight on rum. Ghost gave a slow look toward Luna, then, perfectly deadpan, called out, “So, Luna… how’s it going?”

The moment was priceless.

Without even turning, Luna’s wing twitched again. Her eye narrowed. Her horn flared just a touch brighter—and nothing happened. No projection. No breakthrough. Just a very annoyed princess trying very hard not to blast the both of them into the treeline.

She slowly turned her head, the cool grace of royalty just barely covering the stormy agitation bubbling under her skin, and fixed Ghost with a look that could drop the temperature of the fire by several degrees. “You know how it’s going, Ghost,” she said, every syllable laced with that kind of sharp elegance only she could pull off. “So why are you asking?”

Ghost just gave a half shrug, playing dumb as his smirk tugged a little wider. Bonnie, barely containing her laughter now, tilted her head and said, “Careful, Ghost. You’re gonna make her mad. And you know what happens when you make a princess mad.”

“I get banished?” Ghost offered casually.

“Or turned into a frog,” Bonnie added with a grin.

“I don't think that’s a thing here.”

“I’m still not ruling it out.”

Luna exhaled hard through her nose, her wings snapping tight against her sides as she turned fully toward them now, her mane swirling like a shadowy galaxy caught in a silent storm. “Can you two shut up?”

Both Ghost and Bonnie looked at her.

Both of them nodded in perfect unison, like guilty schoolkids who knew exactly what they were doing but also knew when to quit—for now.

Luna stared at them for another second, then turned back to the task at hoof, her horn lighting up again with that steady hum of focused, carefully measured magic. But the smirk Bonnie shot Ghost—quick, sharp, and dripping with barely contained laughter—said it all.

She was having just as much fun with this as he was.

And Ghost, for all his calm exterior, couldn’t help but feel that little flicker of amusement deep in his chest, a rare and welcome break from the tension that usually dogged his every step. Because even if nothing came from this spell—even if they couldn’t get the camera to project anything at all—moments like this, quiet and ridiculous and full of small, harmless chaos, were the kind of things he didn’t realize how much he missed.

So, he just sat there, his smirk lingering, the fire crackling between them, Luna muttering to herself as she resumed trying to bend a foreign world’s technology to her stubborn, regal will, and Bonnie twirling that blade of grass in her fingers like she hadn’t a care in the world.

Yeah, Ghost thought.

This wasn’t a bad way to spend a morning.

The warmth of the fire had started to fade into the comfortable kind of background heat, the sort that didn't steal attention anymore but simply made its presence known through the occasional crackling pop or the steady warmth on Ghost’s side as he sat, posture relaxed, muscles loose under his black camo gear, one hoof lazily tapping the ground in a quiet rhythm. His eyes were half-lidded, not from fatigue, but because of how calm the moment had become, how oddly peaceful it was to just sit there, watching Luna’s stubborn magic dance and flicker in silent frustration over the recording port on his helmet. Then, without any warning, Bonnie turned her head away from the project altogether, her ears flicking once as she looked directly at Ghost, her expression unreadable at first, caught between casual mischief and something bordering on genuine curiosity.

“So, Ghost,” she asked, her tone smooth but not as teasing as it had been the previous day, like now the question had shifted from playful baiting to something more sincere and maybe even a little personal, “you gonna explain what a furry is?”

Ghost blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly in reflex, not from anger or suspicion, but from a simple moment of confusion as his brain pulled up the relevant memory. Then, as it clicked, he let out a small breath through his nose and gave a slow, almost lazy nod, remembering clear as day how this little thread started. Yesterday near the river, Bonnie had tried to tease him again, fishing for some reaction by asking if he thought she was attractive after realizing that human females, at least in body shape, weren’t all that far removed from how she looked. And in return, without giving her the satisfaction she clearly wanted, he’d just muttered something about being a furry and left it at that. Now here they were, the embers still burning, the sun creeping higher, and Bonnie clearly hadn't let that go.

She hadn’t dropped it. Not even close.

And it was Luna’s reaction, subtle but clear, that gave him even more reason to smirk. Her back was to them, horn glowing as she tried again to force her magic into doing something entirely unnatural, but one ear flicked hard in their direction, like a dish catching a signal. She was listening, no doubt about it, and Ghost knew it.

He shrugged slowly, turning his head just enough to meet Bonnie’s gaze, his eyes calm but faintly amused. “A furry,” he began, voice low and steady, like he was explaining something mundane but also just a bit absurd, “is pretty much… you.”

Bonnie blinked once. Then again. Her lips parted a little like she was going to respond, but she didn’t get a word out. She just stared at him, golden eyes narrowed slightly, and clearly waiting for more because, as far as explanations went, that one told her absolutely nothing. Ghost caught that look and gave a small snort, nodding as he folded his forelegs across his chest, the firelight glinting off the black of his armor.

“Alright, alright,” he said with a slight smirk, “so, a furry’s someone who likes animal characters—like, animal people. Human-shaped animals. Think foxes, wolves, dragons, cats, whatever, but they got, y’know, human-like bodies. Some folks really get into it. Like, they buy big fuzzy suits, dress up in them, go to conventions—big events where people who are into that kinda thing hang out. Others draw pictures of their characters, buy pillows with the art on it, or just enjoy the style in shows or games. There’s something about human-shaped animals that a lot of people are drawn to. Me? I liked it. Wasn’t, like, crazy about it or anything, but yeah, I liked it.”

Bonnie leaned back slightly, her face shifting into something thoughtful, like she was chewing on his words and trying to pin them down into something solid that made sense in her world. “So, because I’m a fox that looks kinda human to you,” she said slowly, tilting her head, “it’s a little better? Or cool in a way?”

Ghost nodded, not with enthusiasm but with that same steady, casual honesty he always carried. “Yep. Pretty much.”

She hummed, then let the silence hang just long enough before tilting her head and shooting him a narrow-eyed look, one brow rising high. “But yesterday,” she said, her voice teasing again but with a bit of something sharper buried under it, “I asked if I was hot. And all you told me was that you’re a furry, then left it there. What, now that I know what it means, you gonna finally give me a straight answer? You like how I look because I’m a fox, sure, but that doesn’t tell me if you think I’m hot or not.”

Ghost’s response came after a pause, not because he was unsure, but because he always measured his words before he let them out. He turned slightly toward her, his red eyes meeting hers with a look that was honest and unflinching, completely calm as if the topic didn’t rattle him in the slightest. “In all honesty?” he said, his voice dropping into something softer but just as certain. “I got no clue, Bonnie.”

She blinked again, visibly caught off guard. “What?”

He nodded again, slow and certain. “Even before I joined the army, I was never the kind of guy who cared about how someone looked. Didn’t look at girls and think, ‘oh, she’s hot,’ or anything like that. Wasn’t wired that way. I looked at who people were. How they acted. Their personality. What kind of person they were, under it all. And even then, I just didn’t want a girlfriend. Didn’t feel the need. Didn’t care.”

Bonnie sat there, her smirk fading into something more neutral as her ears slowly tipped back, listening closely now.

“Then I joined the military,” Ghost continued, “and that sure as hell didn’t change things. If anything, it made me want a relationship even less. I was a soldier in a war. Death was real, right in front of me, every damn day. I didn’t have time to think about that kind of stuff. Didn’t want to. Didn’t want to bring someone into that mess just to lose them. So to really answer you, Bonnie? I got no clue if you’re hot or not. I’ve never looked at a girl that way before. Not once. It’s not how I think.”

There was a moment of quiet after that, a real one, no fire crackles loud enough to fill it, no breeze brushing the leaves hard enough to break it. Just the sound of birds somewhere in the distance, and Luna’s faintly glowing magic as she quietly, persistently worked.

Bonnie stared at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face like she was trying to spot a lie but found nothing. Then, slowly, she leaned back, crossed her arms, and let out a breath like she wasn’t sure what to say but was impressed anyway.

“You know,” she said quietly, “I wasn’t expecting any of that. Not even a little.”

He said nothing, just watched her with that same calm, steady gaze.

“I mean,” she went on, voice softer now but still carrying that familiar edge of amusement, “I get not looking for someone. Lots of folks don’t want a partner. But not being interested at all? Never looking at a girl like that, even once? That’s rare. Most guys eye up at least one girl in their life.”

She tilted her head, then smiled—not a teasing smile, not a grin, but something warmer. “But you? You don’t judge people. You don’t care about looks. You care about who they are, what they do, how they act. That’s rare, Ghost. Rare and kind of amazing.”

He shrugged again, not brushing it off but just not dwelling on it either.

She chuckled then, a light, amused sound that curled around the clearing like a little gust of wind. “Also makes you hard as hell to mess with,” she added, her eyes glinting again. “I mean, how am I supposed to tease you if you can’t even tell if I’m hot or not? You just don’t care.”

She leaned a little closer, resting an arm on her knee, voice playful again but still touched by that quiet admiration. “But I get it now. And honestly? I’m happy about how you see people. Means you look at everyone the same—girl or guy. No judging. Just... you.”

Ghost didn’t respond right away, just watched her, the corner of his mouth tugging upward in a small, quiet expression of appreciation.

Bonnie smirked again, this one softer, and gave a half-laugh under her breath. “You really are full of surprises, Ghost. But I think that’s what I like about you. You’re just you. You don’t give a crap about impressing me or anyone else, and I love it.”

And with that, she leaned back again, the moment slowly slipping back into the rhythm of their strange little group—two near-strangers turned crewmates in a world neither truly belonged to, sitting beside a fire while a stubborn alicorn muttered to herself, trying to make magic talk to metal.

And as the light flickered across their faces, and Ghost sat quietly beside her, there was an odd, fragile kind of peace that lingered—built not on shared backgrounds, or looks, or trying to impress—but on something far rarer.

Understanding.

The fire still crackled softly, its glow flickering over the shapes of logs half-burned through and the faint curls of smoke rising up like lazy ghosts into the still air of the late morning. It was warm, but not too warm, the kind of steady heat that just seemed to sink into the bones and loosen the muscles, and despite Luna’s continued silent battle with her own spellwork just a few feet away, there was a strange sort of stillness between Ghost and Bonnie, a tension that wasn’t quite hostile, wasn’t quite romantic, wasn’t even teasing in the usual way—but something in between, something odd and curious, like two mismatched puzzle pieces being slowly turned and examined to see if they might, somehow, fit.

Bonnie turned her head toward him, her ears twitching subtly as she studied Ghost, and there was this little frown at the corners of her mouth—not one of annoyance, not even a playful one, but thoughtful, searching, like something about him was frustrating in a way she couldn’t quite put into words. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t blush. He didn’t get awkward or nervous or flustered or even confused the way most males did when a woman—especially one who looked like her—started prodding at that invisible line. He just… stared, shrugged, and moved on, armored in some kind of mental clarity that made him immune to her efforts.

And maybe that was why she stood up, brushing the dirt off her coat with a casual sweep of her paws, her tail flicking once as if considering the impulse before she even acted on it. Her feet shifted, stance adjusting slowly, her legs stretching a little more than they needed to as she straightened her back and struck a subtle pose, not overtly vulgar or exaggerated, but deliberate—hips tilted, chest lifted, hands on her waist in a sharp line, every detail from the way her red-furred tail arched to the confident little smirk on her lips designed to push his buttons just a little.

“So…” she said slowly, voice almost sing-song, but carrying just a thread of challenge beneath it, “I’m really not hot? This do nothing for you?”

Ghost’s eyes shifted toward her, and for the briefest second, it looked like maybe—just maybe—he might have some kind of reaction. But then he rolled his eyes, not rudely but with the kind of practiced indifference that came from someone who had made a habit of not letting things get to him, and he turned his gaze away again like her little show hadn’t even registered as worth commenting on.

Bonnie gave a soft huff under her breath and dropped the pose, letting her arms fall back to her sides and her weight shift naturally back onto one hip as she sat down again, shoulders sinking into a more natural slouch. Truthfully, she hadn’t really expected it to work. She wasn’t even particularly good at this kind of thing—hell, she'd never really done it before, not seriously—and it felt more like some strange experiment than actual flirting. But something about what he’d said the day before, and again just a few minutes ago, had burrowed into her mind, curling around in the back of her thoughts. The idea that someone could go their whole life without even looking, without even noticing—that made this weirdly fun. Not in a cruel way, not in a manipulative way, but in that odd, almost childlike way you poke a rock with a stick just to see what’s underneath it.

Because Ghost didn’t look. Not even when she posed. Not even when she pushed just enough to make it obvious. And that’s what made it entertaining—not because she was trying to seduce him or get some weird validation, but because she knew he wouldn’t, and she wanted to test it, see if there was any line she could cross that would draw something out of him, even if it was just a glance.

But nothing. So now what?

She tilted her head, watching Luna for a moment as the alicorn quietly muttered to herself, her magic fizzling across the lens of the recording cam yet again with no success, before Bonnie suddenly got an idea—an odd one, unexpected even to herself. Her lips quirked up slightly, not into a smirk this time, but something softer, something more amused and genuinely curious, and she turned toward Ghost again, golden eyes gleaming faintly in the firelight.

“Hey, Ghost,” she said casually, as if she were just asking about the weather, “you wanna pet my tail?”

He turned to her, his red eyes blinking once, then narrowing in clear confusion, not offended, not embarrassed—just genuinely trying to understand the question. “What?”

Bonnie shrugged, leaning back slightly on her hands as she let her tail swish slowly beside her, its rich red and white fur catching the light in a gentle ripple. “What?” she repeated, voice light but sincere. “You said you were a furry, right? Well, you’ve got the real deal right here. Might as well let you have a little fun. Live at least one dream.”

She smiled faintly, but there was no teasing in it now, not really. Just something genuine—perhaps even kind, in a strange way.

“I mean, if I’m being honest,” she continued, her voice a little quieter now, more thoughtful, “your life sounds like it sucked. Fighting in a war, the army, all that... doesn’t sound like much fun. You had dreams, right? Even if they were weird little ones. So come on. You can't tell me you're not even a little interested in petting a real fox tail.”

Her eyes softened, just a little, and her voice shifted into something more grounded. “Just… don’t pull on it, alright? And keep your hooves near the end—not near the base, near my ass. That part’s sensitive.”

Ghost was quiet for a long moment, staring at her like he was really thinking about it—not debating whether or not it was appropriate or some kind of test, but genuinely considering whether it meant anything, what it said about him, about her, about this weird little moment in their tangled story. And Bonnie, watching him from the corner of her eye, suddenly found herself asking something silently in her own head, not at him but at herself.

Why was she offering? She didn’t let people touch her tail. Not ever. Not for fun. Not for affection. Not even during flirtations. It was a private thing, something close to sacred for her kind, a vulnerability wrapped in fluff and instinct. And yet, here she was, casually offering it to this emotionally numb ex-soldier who didn’t even know what it meant to find someone attractive.

And it wasn’t even to get a reaction.

It wasn’t to make him uncomfortable, or to test him, or to flirt—not anymore. Somewhere deep inside, it felt more like a small gift. A quiet gesture. A way of saying, You didn’t get to have dreams. So here’s one of mine. You can borrow it for a minute.

After a long pause, Ghost sighed, his expression unreadable, his voice low and tired, but also carrying a faint hint of acceptance, like this moment meant more than he wanted to admit.

“Fine,” he muttered. “You win.”

Bonnie’s smile widened a little—not smug, but warm. Satisfied in the softest possible way. They were already sitting close, so she just slowly curled her tail around and held it out toward him, her fingers brushing over the end once as if to fluff it slightly, then letting it rest there, inches from his hoof, her body perfectly still as she watched him move.

He reached out slowly, his hoof moving with a kind of careful deliberateness she hadn’t expected, no hesitation but no rush either, like he knew exactly how strange this was for both of them and wanted to make sure it didn’t become something awkward or overstepped. His hoof touched the fur near the tip—lightly at first, then slowly stroking downward, never tugging, never shifting toward the base. His motions were gentle, focused, respectful in a way that surprised her.

It was… weird.

It didn’t feel like being touched. Not in the way that made her shrink back or tense up. It felt… calming. Familiar in a strange way. Warm. Comforting.

Like being pet. And somehow, she didn’t mind.

She hummed faintly, eyes half-lidding as she let herself relax into the sensation, her ears flicking once and then going still. It was strange to feel something so passive, so oddly innocent, but it didn’t feel demeaning or weird. Just… nice.

After a few moments, he stopped, giving a small nod in her direction, his face neutral but respectful.

Bonnie nodded back silently, then slowly pulled her tail back toward herself, wrapping it loosely around one leg without thinking, her smile still lingering softly at the edge of her lips.

She didn’t say anything for a long moment. Neither of them did.

But she felt it. A little bit of something unspoken pass between them.

Not attraction. Not flirtation. Not teasing.

Just understanding. A tiny spark of warmth in the wreckage of war and weirdness and magic.

And it felt good. Like, for once, someone had been given a little piece of kindness from her world. And it had mattered.

The quiet hum of wind in the trees stirred above them, branches rustling like whispers exchanged between unseen watchers, and the last of the morning sun was beginning to slip toward its noon arc, casting long dappled shadows around the small campsite. The fire crackled softly, still holding a good flame, its light dancing across the nearby stones, and the tension between Ghost and Bonnie had just barely begun to dissolve back into silence, the kind of silence that wasn’t uncomfortable but instead just… there. Full of unspoken things.

But then, a voice broke through it—calm, feminine, and touched with the faintest thread of teasing amusement, though there was something else under it too, something deeper.

“Well,” Luna said softly, her tone like velvet brushed against a smooth blade, “that was cute.”

The sound startled both of them, just slightly—not because it was loud or sharp, but because it reminded them that they weren’t alone in their strange little moment. Ghost’s red eyes shifted over with the slow, guarded indifference of someone used to being observed, while Bonnie’s ears perked and twitched in mild annoyance as her golden gaze flicked toward the alicorn, clearly not thrilled to be caught in something that had felt oddly private despite being out in the open.

Luna hadn’t moved from her place, still seated by the camera, her horn now dark as she let the strain of magical effort ease out of her posture, and yet there was a small, knowing smile playing on her face. Her eyes were half-lidded, calm and observant, her expression betraying none of the frustration she’d surely been feeling after hours of struggling to get the spell to work with the cam. Instead, she just looked… amused. Gentle. Softened by what she had just seen.

Ghost didn’t say anything right away, but Bonnie gave a short little huff, her cheeks puffing out for just a second before she looked away, brushing her tail down over her leg with a casual sweep.

“Hey,” she muttered, not really defensive but not ready to be teased either, “it wasn’t anything bad. I was just letting him live at least one dream, alright?”

There was no guilt in her tone. No awkward embarrassment. Just a small thread of honesty braided through her words, like she was stating something she couldn’t quite explain but believed in anyway.

Luna nodded gently, her eyes drifting between the two of them as that same smile softened a bit more.

“I know,” she replied, her voice quieter now, more reflective, “and… I agree with Bonnie.”

She turned her head slightly, her gaze settling on Ghost with a clarity that cut through the moment like a gentle breeze parting a fog.

“Ghost,” she said softly, “your life kind of seems to suck.”

Ghost blinked slowly, his head tilting just a fraction, then shrugged—not dismissively, not even defensively, but with that same quiet acceptance he always wore when the topic came up, like someone pulling a familiar coat over their shoulders, worn and frayed and not particularly warm, but still something that fit.

“It was my life,” he said simply, the words stripped of emotion but not without weight. They just hung there, dry and clean, like dust on stone.

The campfire cracked again.

Both Bonnie and Luna frowned, almost in unison, and in that shared reaction, something passed between the two of them—a quiet understanding, one that didn't need words.

Because for all her smirking and teasing, Luna had been watching—not just the tail petting, not just the conversation, but the whole arc of it, the strange way Bonnie had shifted from mock flirtation to something else entirely, the way her ears had tilted, the way her tail had curled loosely back around her own leg after, the subtle smile that still lingered when she wasn’t looking. Luna could see it clearly now. It hadn’t been a joke. Not fully. Not really.

Bonnie had offered Ghost a small gift—not because he asked for it, not because he demanded it, but because somewhere, buried beneath her cheeky pirate bravado, she understood that he had been carrying nothing but the weight of conflict and pain for longer than anyone should, and he had no idea what to do with kindness when it showed up.

And Ghost? He hadn’t flinched away from it. He hadn’t recoiled, or refused it, or treated it like a joke. He’d accepted it with the same calm, tired honesty that he seemed to carry in everything he did. And maybe, just maybe, that had shifted something. Even if just a little.

Luna’s thoughts drifted as she glanced again at Bonnie, who had turned back to the fire but was no longer really watching it. Her eyes were on Ghost again, though softer now. Thoughtful. Not appraising. Not playful. Just… seeing him.

And that was the part that hit Luna hardest, in a way she hadn’t expected.

Because Ghost was a soldier, yes. A trained killer. Someone pulled from a world soaked in violence and stripped of joy. But now… maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t only that. Maybe she and Bonnie—two wildly different souls from two impossibly different backgrounds—could be something more than just travel companions. Maybe they could be his first true friends. The first ones to look past the gear and the knife and the thousand-yard stare, and give him something more than a mission to survive.

Maybe they could help him live.

And that thought, strange and bold and quietly terrifying in its own right, planted itself in Luna’s heart like a seed.

She let the moment breathe, didn’t press it, didn’t say anything else. The silence returned, not cold but thoughtful now, like a blanket settling across the camp.

And as the fire popped once more and the late morning light danced through the leaves above, the three of them sat together in that strange, quiet peace—bound not by duty or strategy or magic, but by something far older and deeper.

Compassion.

And the beginning of something new.

Chapter Text

The soft hum of insects filled the air like a gentle background melody, the kind that only comes when the world is still and warm, when the heat of the day lays across the earth like a heavy blanket, thick with the scent of sun-warmed grass and the quiet bubbling of a river sliding gently past its own polished stones. The hour was late enough that the shadows had begun to stretch just a little longer, trees casting elongated fingers across the dirt and grass as if reaching out lazily, while the golden sun hung low and steady in the sky, still fierce with heat but beginning its descent into evening.

It had been two full days since that strange little moment with the tail—two long, slow days where, if one were just watching from the outside, not much of anything seemed to happen. No monsters, no threats, no missions, no objectives. Just walking. Just talking. Just the gentle rhythm of hooves on packed dirt beside the winding ribbon of river, and the occasional rustle of the wind playing through the leaves overhead.

But Ghost noticed. He always noticed.

Even in the quiet, his mind tracked patterns. He wasn’t the type to miss changes in behavior, even subtle ones. And over those past two days, there had been changes—small at first, quiet like ripples across still water, but building as time went on. Both Luna and Bonnie had begun to speak to him more, and not in idle, casual ways. Not just passing comments or trivial observations. No, it was different. It felt... intentional. Personal. As though they were trying to bridge some invisible gap they could both see but couldn’t quite name. As though they were trying to be something more than just travel companions.

Friends.

The very idea made something twist just slightly in Ghost’s gut—not in discomfort, but in that strange, distant ache that came from unfamiliarity. It wasn’t that he disliked what they were doing. Quite the opposite. He could see the effort. He could tell that they were trying to be there for him. That they thought, for some reason, that they could help him change. That if they tried hard enough, maybe something in him would soften. That maybe, just maybe, there was still more to him than war and survival.

And maybe they were right.

Or maybe they were wrong.

Ghost didn’t really know. He didn’t fight it, though. He let them try, even if some part of him doubted it would go anywhere. He’d been a soldier too long, lived too many years in a world where being vulnerable meant dying. He didn’t know what it meant to let people in. But he wasn’t stopping them, either.

What surprised him more was Bonnie.

He could understand Luna doing this. She was a pony. From Equestria. Kindness, compassion, friendship—that was baked into her bones. But Bonnie? She was new. Freshly introduced into this strange trio. A fox pirate from a whole different world. And yet… after the tail incident, something had shifted. He could see it in the way she looked at him. The way she watched him, even when she tried to act like she wasn’t. Like maybe that little moment—something so simple, so seemingly inconsequential—had meant more to her than she let on. Maybe, somehow, he’d made a good impression on her without even trying.

It wasn’t what he expected.

And now, here they were, sprawled out in the grass near the riverbank, the heat too thick to bother with a fire. There was no real reason to push forward for now, not with the day so warm, not with the river right there, cold and clear and inviting.

Luna lay nearby, her long legs stretched out, her dark blue coat shimmering faintly in the golden light as she dipped her hooves in the water. Her mane rippled with its ethereal flow, drifting slowly in the air like starlight caught in a breeze, and despite the frustration of two days of magical failure, she still worked, still focused, horn lit with that soft, determined glow as she once again tried to coax the illusion spell into working with the video feed. Ghost was beginning to suspect she was just refusing to give up at this point, more out of stubborn pride than anything else.

Bonnie was closer to him, lying in a loose sprawl on her side in the sun, her usual Highlander coat folded neatly beside her on the grass. She wore a dark red tank top underneath—something Ghost hadn’t realized she had until today—and it clung snugly to her lithe, furred frame, her orange-red fur seeming to glow under the sun’s touch. Her golden eyes were half-lidded as she rested, not quite napping, but not really alert either. She looked more relaxed than he’d ever seen her.

And Ghost, well… the heat was getting to him, but not in a way that bothered him. Just enough to weigh down his limbs, make his eyes heavy, and stir up that rare, almost alien desire to just… rest. Not because he had to. Not because his body demanded it from exhaustion or injury. But because the moment allowed it.

So when he spotted Bonnie’s folded coat, its thick material slightly puffed in the grass, he smirked just a little and thought, why the hell not?

He got up, slow and deliberate, and moved over to it, dropping to his side and laying his head on it like a pillow. The scent of her fur clung faintly to the fabric—sun-warmed and wild, like dry grass, wind, and something vaguely cinnamon. It wasn’t unpleasant. Just… Bonnie. Unique.

He exhaled, the breath long and slow, and let his eyes fall shut.

---

POV Bonnie:

She sighed, ears twitching at the hum of cicadas somewhere in the trees, and rolled a little to one side, stretching her arms above her head and letting her claws dig lazily into the grass. She hated being hot. Her fur didn’t help. Sun was nice—up to a point. But there was a fine line between “sunbathing” and “slow roasting.”

Thank goodness for the river.

She glanced over at Luna, watching as the alicorn narrowed her eyes in quiet focus, that horn glowing again. Bonnie shook her head. Luna had been at this for two days. Two whole days of trying to get that stupid helmet camera spell to work. It was like watching someone slowly lose their mind with quiet dignity. Impressive, but insane.

Her eyes drifted, curious, then paused.

Ghost wasn’t where he’d been.

Her ears perked slightly, scanning, then caught sight of him lying not far away—and using her coat as a pillow.

She blinked once, flatly. Then rolled her eyes with a slow, amused huff.

Of course he’d do that. Of course he would.

She couldn’t help but wonder if it was payback for how she’d been acting the last couple days—trying to talk to him more, trying to get to know him, maybe pushing her luck a little here and there. She wasn’t usually this forward with anyone, but something about him made it feel worth it. He wasn’t easy to tease. He didn’t fluster. But there was something real under that calm soldier exterior. Something broken. Something strong. And if letting him pet her tail helped even a little… so be it.

She stared at him for a moment longer, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, and then just shook her head with a small grin.

“Whatever,” she muttered under her breath, tail flicking lazily.

He could use the coat.

Not like she was using it.

The late afternoon sun dragged itself lazily across the sky, now heavy with the kind of heat that pressed down on the land like a living thing, thick and relentless, wrapping every breath in the warmth of summer’s weight. The air shimmered faintly above the riverbanks, waves of distorted light dancing just above the grass and stones, making everything feel dreamlike, almost distant. Bugs chirred from their unseen perches, a rhythmic background hum that added a sleepy, hypnotic undertone to the already still world.

Bonnie Anne let out a sharp, irritated sigh, her ears twitching as another bead of sweat trickled down the back of her neck. Her tail flicked, more in annoyance than anything else, and her golden eyes slid sideways toward the motionless form of Ghost, who still lay exactly where he'd dropped his head—right on her coat like it was the most natural thing in the world. She shook her head slowly, a tired smirk tugging at the corners of her muzzle.

“Why is it so fucking hot today…” she grumbled under her breath, dragging the words out like they were too heavy to lift cleanly from her tongue.

But her gaze didn’t move. It lingered, locked onto Ghost, that grumpy, stoic Earth pony whose only concession to the brutal heat had been removing his helmet. His full combat gear, all that heavy black camo and layered fabric, was still on him like armor welded to his very skin. She squinted at him like he was some kind of puzzle she hadn’t figured out yet, her voice lowering even more.

“You’re crazy, Ghost… seriously, this hot out and you’re still in full gear? Do you ever even take that stuff off? I swear, I’ve only ever seen you remove that helmet. That’s it.”

But there was no answer. Of course not. He was asleep—somehow. Just lying there, out like a light, head resting on her coat like it was the most comfortable place in the world. She sighed again and looked away, running a paw over her forehead and flicking sweat off her fur.

“Fuck it,” she muttered, standing up with a low grunt. Her boots thumped softly on the grass as she pulled them off, then her damp socks, and finally her hat, her fingers running through her short fur to let her head breathe. The heat was unbearable, but the river glistened beside them like a promise, clear and cold and just deep enough to tempt her fully in.

She stepped toward it, her bare feet sinking into the cool mud at the edge, and as she slid into the water with a long, grateful sigh, it felt like heaven poured right over her. The icy chill wrapped around her calves, then her thighs, and soon her whole body as she eased in deeper, her tank top clinging slightly as it grew damp. She let herself sink, slowly ducking her head beneath the surface, ears flattening and tail floating behind her. It was silent underwater, serene, her thoughts hushed beneath the bubbling current. She resurfaced with a small splash, her muzzle breaking into a relaxed sigh as the coolness chased the heat off her skin.

It was just a river, not particularly deep, but right now it felt like a luxury spa.

She swam lazily for a while, letting herself just float and drift, the water carrying her worries off one by one. She didn’t know how long she spent like that—ten minutes, maybe twenty—but eventually she swam toward the bank again and pulled herself out with a wet squelch, padding softly over to where Luna still lay beside the water, her forehooves trailing lazily in the current as she half-watched the camcorder, half-lost in her own thoughts.

Bonnie dropped down next to her with a faint groan, the grass cool beneath her soaked pants, her dark tank top clinging to her trim, furred frame. Droplets of water glistened on her arms and neckline, catching the sunlight as they rolled slowly down her body, and she looked down at herself with a crooked grin.

“Well,” she said dryly, “lucky me, huh? I’m glad I went with a dark red tank top. If I had a white one or something, I wouldn’t be able to swim at all—you’d see right through it.”

Luna looked over at her, eyes drifting down to her soaked shirt, and then back up with a curious tilt of her head. “I didn’t even know what a tank top was until now,” she said, smiling faintly. “We ponies don’t really care much for clothing, you know.”

Bonnie laughed softly, nodding. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”

She pinched the hem of her shirt between her fingers and pulled it slightly away from her body. “This is a tank top,” she added, then let it fall back against her.

Luna nodded again, thoughtful. “I see. Still… I don’t know how you can stand wearing clothes at all in this heat. I mean, Ghost talked to me about it a bit, but it must be awful for you. Add fur to the mix and I imagine you get overheated pretty fast.”

Bonnie grunted and flopped back in the grass, one leg bent, arms stretched out beside her as she stared up at the sky.

“Oh, you have no idea. This fur soaks up heat like a sponge. Sometimes I feel like I’m just walking around in a sun-baked towel.”

Luna gave a sympathetic hum, her eyes flicking to Bonnie’s arm, and she tilted her head slightly.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you without your coat on,” she said quietly. “You’ve got a bit of muscle on you. Not a lot, but it’s there.”

Bonnie lifted one arm, flexed it briefly, and then looked at it critically.

“Yeah, well… I needed some to hold a gun steady, y’know? But I always hated close combat. Never wanted to be a brawler. I’m not that strong, honestly. Just… good enough.”

Luna gave a half-smile but then her tone shifted just slightly, the edge of concern sneaking in. “Bonnie… I hate to say it, but in Equestria, most weapons are swords. Or bows, or crossbows. And even those aren’t exactly common unless you’re in the Guard or in the middle of a war. Relying on one weapon you don’t even have anymore isn’t safe. You should at least get a knife. Learn how to use it. I bet Ghost would help you if you asked.”

Bonnie sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, droplets flicking from her still-damp fur. “Yeah… I know. I’ve been thinking the same thing. You’re right. Just relying on my gun, well… it’s a little dumb, huh? It’s not even here.”

She hesitated, then smirked wearily. “I’m not sure I want Ghost to train me, though. He’s a soldier. His training probably sucks. Probably full of yelling and pain.”

Luna giggled softly, eyes bright. “Oh, I bet it is. But I also bet he’s the best teacher you’ll find. And he has seen combat. You could trust him. And if you’re serious about surviving—and protecting us—you might want to ask him.”

Bonnie nodded slowly, her golden eyes serious now, the teasing edge fading as reality settled in. She knew Luna was right. If she wanted to stay alive… if she wanted to keep them alive… she needed to learn.

And Ghost? As rough as he was, as unshakable and closed-off as he could seem, she trusted him more than anyone else she’d met in this world. That mattered.

Then Luna’s voice shifted, quiet and a little hesitant.

“I do want to say… I’m a little jealous of you, Bonnie.”

Bonnie blinked, confused, her head tilting to one side. “Jealous? Of me?”

Luna pointed gently at her, at her soaked figure still glistening in the sun, her soaked shirt hugging her frame.

“Look at you,” Luna said softly. “It’s hard to tell with your coat on, but like this—wet shirt, pants, no extra layers… you’re in good shape. You’ve got… nice curves. You look good. I may not be your kind, but I can still tell when someone looks attractive.”

Bonnie’s brows shot up, then a slow smirk curled across her face, a warm, amused glow flickering behind her golden eyes. The compliment caught her completely off guard—but not in a bad way. It was… oddly sweet. Unexpected. Real.

Luna, meanwhile, let out a soft sigh. “I know I look fine,” she said quietly. “But sometimes… sometimes I don’t feel as nice as everypony says. Sometimes I wonder if I even look appealing at all.”

Bonnie’s smile softened, the teasing melting into something more sincere.

“Hey,” she said gently. “You do look good. You look pretty to me, Luna. And if any guy can’t see that? Then they’re just dumb.”

Luna turned to look at her, the smile she gave this time small, but deep. “Thank you,” she whispered.

And between them, for just a brief, golden moment, the river hummed softly, the sun dipped a little lower in the sky, and a quiet sense of warmth—not from the heat, but from something else—settled around them like a second kind of summer.

The river murmured softly beside them, its gentle currents whispering around stones and roots like an old lullaby, comforting in its constancy. Birds chirped lazily overhead from sun-drenched branches while the golden hue of early evening cast long shadows across the clearing. The heat of the day hadn’t quite lifted, but the edge of it had dulled, softened by the coolness of the river and the shade now stretching across the grass. Bonnie sat in her soaked clothes, still damp from her swim, her dark red tank top clinging snugly to her form, the outline of her bra faintly visible beneath the fabric. She had settled into a kind of peaceful calm after their earlier talk—until Luna shifted beside her, her voice suddenly softer, tinged with hesitation.

“Bonnie,” Luna began, her tone careful, deliberate, the words coming as if she was testing the waters with every syllable, “not to be mean or get into your space or anything, and you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but… there’s something that’s been worrying me a little.”

Bonnie blinked and tilted her head, fur still glistening faintly in the golden light, ears twitching toward Luna as she turned to face her more directly. Her expression tightened slightly with curiosity. “What’s up?”

Luna let out a sigh and her eyes drifted for a moment, like she was searching for the right words, then slowly found her way forward.

“It’s… well… back when you were in the river alone the day we met, cleaning up, Ghost… he explained things to me. In a lot of detail, actually. About clothing. Nudity. Your culture. All of it.”

She gave a tiny, amused huff, her dark mane falling over one shoulder as she rolled her eyes. “I think he went a little overboard, honestly. He even pointed out where, anatomically, everything was—like on a human, and then on you, just so I’d understand why it mattered. Why clothing was important to you. I didn’t expect a lecture, but… well, I guess he wanted to be thorough.”

Bonnie stared at her for a moment, then groaned and dragged her palm slowly over her face, her fingers digging into her fur just above her eyes.

“Oh my god… Ghost really went that far?” she muttered, half mortified, half exasperated.

Luna giggled, clearly amused by the reaction, but her smile quickly faded into something gentler, more thoughtful. Her eyes lingered on Bonnie for a second longer before she leaned in ever so slightly, her tone lowering.

“But… please tell me to stop if this crosses a line. I just want to finish this thought. It’s been sitting in my head.”

Bonnie lowered her hand slowly and gave a small nod, though her brows were drawn with a touch of concern now, unsure of where this was going.

Luna pointed, slowly, delicately, not touching but indicating the center of Bonnie’s chest with a hoof.

“Those… are your breasts, right?” she said softly. “I know we ponies have them too, but they’re… well, not in the same place, and we don’t really think about them the same way. But, when I was looking at you just now—again, not trying to stare, I swear—I noticed something that made me worry. I just want to make sure you’re okay, that you’re not hurt.”

Bonnie blinked, confused by the question, then followed Luna’s gaze down to her chest, frowning slightly as she stared at her tank top. The fabric did hug her body rather tightly, the water making it cling to every curve, and sure enough, the slight outline Luna was talking about was visible if you looked closely. But Bonnie wasn’t in pain. Nothing felt wrong.

She glanced back up, puzzled. “Hurt? No… why would you think that?”

Luna looked genuinely concerned now as she leaned in a little closer, still careful not to touch, just pointing near the same area.

“It’s just… the way the tank top fits—it shows your… your shape really clearly. And it looks like there’s a small dent, right… there. On both sides. I thought maybe you’d taken a hit, or you’d been hurt somehow. But you’re saying you’re not?”

Bonnie blinked, stared again… then suddenly let out a sharp giggle, covering her mouth as the realization hit her all at once.

Luna tilted her head in confusion. “What? Did I say something funny?”

“No, no, Luna—it’s not you,” Bonnie said between laughs, trying to regain control of herself as her tail flicked behind her. “I get it now. You’ve never seen one of these before.”

She reached up and tapped her chest gently with a finger, smirking now.

“What you’re seeing? That’s not a bruise or a dent. That’s my bra. Another kind of clothing. It’s… kinda like support wear, really. Helps keep things in place.”

Luna blinked again, her mouth parting in a small “oh” as the pieces began to click into place. “A… bra?”

Bonnie nodded. “Yeah. See, when I’m standing or even sitting, gravity does its thing. My boobs can sway or hang in a way that’s just… not comfortable, especially if I’m moving around. The bra helps keep them steady. Gives support. It’s also part of underwear.”

She chuckled again. “I guess Ghost didn’t go over that part of the anatomy lesson, huh?”

Luna’s face turned just a little pink beneath her fur, her ears flicking back slightly in embarrassment. “No… no, he didn’t. I feel kinda dumb now.”

“Don’t,” Bonnie said quickly, waving a hand. “Seriously. It’s fine. Your culture’s totally different. I’m honestly glad you asked instead of just… I don’t know, staring and wondering. And it means a lot that you were worried. That you noticed something and thought to ask.”

Luna looked relieved at that, though her voice remained soft. “I’m sorry if it was inappropriate. I wasn’t trying to look. I really wasn’t. I just… it worried me.”

Bonnie nodded again, her smile returning, this time warm and sincere. “It’s all good, Luna. Honestly. I’m glad you look out for me.”

They sat in silence for a few beats, the river bubbling nearby, and then Luna glanced back at her chest again, tilting her head slightly.

“So… if you have a bra on, why don’t you just take the tank top off to help with the heat? I mean… your boobs are still hidden, right?”

Bonnie laughed again, this time less out of surprise and more at how innocent the question sounded. She shook her head gently and leaned back on her arms.

“Well, kind of. The bra doesn’t cover everything. Like… if I took the tank top off, the top parts of my boobs would still be visible. Not fully, but enough that it feels… well, exposed. And yeah, technically I wouldn’t be fully naked, but it’s still underwear. And in my culture, walking around in underwear is almost the same as being nude. It’s not as bad, but still.”

Luna nodded slowly, absorbing every word. “I see. Wow… our cultures really are different.”

Bonnie chuckled and let out a breath. “They really are. And trust me, if it had been someone else—someone who did understand nudity and still said or did what you did—I’d be pissed off. But with you? You’re just being honest. You weren’t pervy or anything. You were just worried.”

Luna looked at her for a long moment, eyes soft. “Thank you… for understanding.”

Bonnie looked back, and this time there was a small pause—comfortable, not awkward—before she replied.

“Thanks for caring.”

The quiet lull of the river filled the air between them once again, the sound of gently shifting water like nature’s way of giving space for thoughts to settle. The air still hung heavy with lingering heat, but the sun had begun to dip lower behind the trees, casting long streaks of golden light across the clearing and shimmering across the surface of the river in gentle ripples. Luna, still seated beside Bonnie, let her gaze drift over to where Ghost lay sprawled out beneath a patch of dappled shade, the black camouflage of his gear still wrapped tightly around him like a second skin. His helmet was resting beside him, his head tilted slightly to one side, and his breathing was calm—steady and slow in a way that only someone used to sleeping in danger could manage.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Luna’s lips, a glint of amusement flashing in her eyes as she turned back toward Bonnie and nodded her head slightly toward the sleeping Earth pony.

“So… I see you’ve lost your coat to Ghost?” she said, voice light but laced with that familiar, teasing warmth.

Bonnie rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, letting out a low groan as she glanced at the stolen item bunched beneath Ghost’s head.

“Yep. Seems like he decided my coat makes a better pillow than his helmet,” she muttered, shaking her head a little. “Didn’t even ask. Just saw it laying there, grabbed it, and flopped right down like he owned it.”

Luna chuckled quietly, the sound soft and musical under her breath, but it faded into a sigh as she let her gaze drift back toward Ghost again—this time more thoughtful, more subdued. Her eyes lingered on him in silence for a few long moments, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the faint tension even in sleep that spoke volumes to her trained eye.

“I worry about him,” she said at last, her voice quieter now, the smirk gone from her expression.

Bonnie turned toward her slowly, one brow raised in mild curiosity. “Worry? About what?”

Luna hesitated, searching for the words as she stared at the sleeping stallion. Her voice came a little more slowly, each word carrying the weight of experience, memory, and a subtle unease that came from having seen more than most.

“I’ve seen soldiers before, Bonnie. I’ve seen what war does to them. After battle, after death… most of them break in some way. Some cry. Some shut down. Some get angry. Some never sleep right again.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “But Ghost? He’s… different. He’s calm. Collected. Cold, sometimes. Sure, he jokes with us, he steals your coat and makes little sarcastic comments, but I’ve watched him. There’s something in his eyes. A quiet, still place where something should be moving. Feeling.”

She paused, drawing in a breath and exhaling slowly, her gaze hardening just a little. “I don’t think he’s numb. Not exactly. I think he’s just very, very good at hiding how he really feels. Or maybe… maybe his training took those feelings and buried them so deep, even he doesn’t know how to find them anymore.”

Bonnie’s expression had shifted while Luna spoke, her easy grin fading, her ears flicking slightly as she looked toward Ghost again. Her golden eyes narrowed just a touch, not with suspicion, but with growing understanding. With concern.

“He told me some things. Bits and pieces,” she murmured. “About being a soldier. About combat. He doesn’t give a lot away, but when he does… yeah, I get that feeling too. That he’s seen things. Lost things. Maybe even died a little inside.”

Luna nodded grimly. “I’ve seen him fight, Bonnie. You haven’t yet, but… trust me. We were attacked by wolves a while back. Three of them. They came out of nowhere. I didn’t even have time to react. But Ghost—he moved like it was nothing. Took them down fast. Too fast. With just his knife.” Her voice dropped lower, heavier. “No fear. No hesitation. And no remorse. He didn’t care about blood or pain. He just ended them.”

Bonnie was silent, her tail flicking once behind her as she absorbed that. Then, slowly, she let out a thoughtful hum.

“You know…” she said, voice almost musing, “I kinda want to ask him to fight me. Not like, really fight me. Just… a test. A spar. See how he moves. What I could learn.”

Luna turned sharply toward her, eyes widening slightly. “Bonnie, are you sure? You do realize what you’re asking, right? If you want to spar with Ghost, then I hope you like pain, because that’s what you’re going to get.”

Bonnie shrugged, the corners of her mouth twitching into a faint grin. “Maybe. But at least I’m willing. I bet you wouldn’t.”

Luna scoffed at that, puffing out her chest a little. “Excuse me? Of course I would! I’m not scared of Ghost. And yes—I can fight, thank you very much.”

Bonnie’s smirk widened slowly, and she tilted her head to the side, her tone becoming sly. “Oh? You only use magic though, don’t you? I mean… isn’t that kind of the same thing you told me not to do? Rely on just one weapon? You were all like ‘Bonnie, you need to train with a knife,’ but here you are, talking big with your fancy horn.”

Luna blinked, clearly caught off guard, and then narrowed her eyes. “That’s not the same! Magic has hundreds of different applications!”

Bonnie raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Sure, sure. But you said you’re weaker right now, didn’t you? So you can’t use most of them. Meanwhile, I lost my gun. You don’t have your magic. Kinda sounds like we’re in the same boat, don’t it?”

Luna opened her mouth to respond, paused… then let out a sigh, her ears drooping just slightly. “Okay… okay. Fair point.”

She looked away for a second, thoughtful, and then nodded resolutely. “Fine. You know what? How about this—we both ask Ghost to train us. Together. We’ll suffer. We’ll be in pain. But we’ll learn. And if nothing else, at least we’ll have each other to complain to afterward.”

Bonnie grinned wide, her tail flicking happily behind her. “Now that I can get behind. Sure. I’d love to.”

Luna gave her a faint, wry smile, glancing once more toward Ghost’s resting form, still peacefully sprawled beneath the shade, the stolen coat cradled beneath his head.

“Well,” she said softly, “we’ll see if he’s still feeling generous after his nap.”

Bonnie chuckled and stretched her legs out in front of her, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. “If he says no, I’ll just take my coat back. That’ll wake him up fast enough.”

The two of them laughed quietly together, the bond between them quietly solidifying—not just as teammates, but as something stronger, something forged through tension, honesty, and a little bit of shared mischief. Whatever Ghost had endured to become what he was, whatever training had shaped him into the weapon he now represented, both Bonnie and Luna had made a choice.

They would learn from him—not because they wanted to become like him, but because they knew the world they were in now demanded it.

And neither of them planned to be left behind.

The sun had crept high into the sky by now, its golden rays burning gently through the forest canopy above, casting dappled light across the river’s surface in slow, shimmering ripples. The water flowed smooth and quiet beside them, a low, constant murmur beneath the soft sounds of birds flitting through the branches and the distant hum of insects caught up in the lazy heat of the afternoon.

Bonnie sat back along the edge of the riverbank, her long legs stretched out before her, fur dry at last from her earlier swim. The last traces of dampness had long since been drawn away by the warmth of the sun, leaving her coat fluffed and clean, the deep red of her tank top resting lightly against her frame. Her dark pants clung comfortably to her legs, loose at the cuffs where her bare feet rested against the warm earth, toes wriggling now and then in the grass. Her boots and socks were somewhere behind her, forgotten for now—she hadn’t bothered putting them back on after the swim, and honestly, she didn’t see much point. It was hot, the walk had left her tired, and the river was far too peaceful to care about laces and buckles.

Luna sat nearby, her posture poised but relaxed, her wings tucked in at her sides and her mane flowing gently in the dry breeze, still dim but shimmering ever so slightly more than it had days ago. The two of them had passed the time mostly in silence, broken only by the occasional bit of conversation, their rhythm easy now—comfortable, even, in a way neither of them would have expected when they first crossed paths.

Bonnie tilted her head back and let out a long, quiet sigh, staring up at the fluttering leaves above before glancing sideways at the alicorn beside her. Her ears twitched a little at the sound of the river, her voice casual, but curious.

“So, Luna… while Ghost is still out cold and we’re just sittin’ here waitin’… how’s that magic spell thing of yours going? The one with that, uh, video thing in his helmet?”

Luna let out a breath, her gaze slipping toward the dark, curved helmet that still rested near Ghost’s sleeping form, nestled against the bundle of fabric beneath his head—Bonnie’s coat, she reminded herself, which he’d taken without so much as a word before dropping down into the grass and promptly passing out. Luna’s tone was calm, but it carried the weight of frustration behind her composure.

“It has been nothing but a pain,” she admitted, her expression drawn slightly with a tired frown. “His technology—his world’s technology—is... impressive. Unsettlingly so. It resists my magic in ways I did not expect. But despite that… I believe I am close.”

Bonnie blinked, sitting up straighter as her tail flicked behind her with a little twitch of excitement. “Wait—really? You think you’re actually about to crack it?”

“Yes,” Luna said with quiet confidence, her eyes focused on the helmet now as though daring it to deny her. “You and he may not believe I can do it… but I assure you, I will. I think… I may even be able to manage it very soon.”

“Oh, hell yes!” Bonnie grinned wide, her ears perked, eyes practically gleaming. “We’re finally gonna get to see what’s on that thing? I mean, no offense, but I kinda thought you’d given up. You’ve been at that thing for days now.”

“I know,” Luna said simply, glancing toward her. “But I am not finished. And I will not fail.”

“Well damn,” Bonnie said, still smiling as she leaned back on her hands again, her tail swishing slowly behind her. “Guess I owe you an apology for doubting ya.”

Luna didn’t respond right away. She just nodded slightly, eyes drifting back to the trees across the river as the afternoon wore on. Minutes passed, maybe an hour, slow and quiet and calm. The two of them sat in companionable silence, listening to the river, soaking in the heat, occasionally shifting or making some idle comment that drifted away with the wind.

And then… there was movement.

Bonnie’s ear twitched at the rustle in the grass. Luna’s head turned a moment later. Both of them looked back in sync, just in time to see Ghost finally stirring from his nap, his black-clad form shifting slightly as he groaned and rolled onto his stomach, pushing himself upright with the stiffness of someone who had not intended to sleep so long.

His eyes were half-lidded, the sharp edge dulled by the haze of rest, and he sat there a moment in silence, adjusting his posture before reaching for his helmet. Without a word, he pulled it back over his head, the dark visor catching a shimmer of light as he set it into place with practiced ease.

He looked exhausted. Still shaking off the fog of sleep. He didn’t move with the usual controlled precision—this wasn’t the soldier they saw when he was awake and alert. This was the quiet, groggy version, the one who’d let his guard down without realizing it. He walked toward them slowly, dragging his hooves a little through the grass, and without ceremony dropped down to sit beside them, letting out a long yawn that stretched his jaw wide.

He blinked once, then looked toward the two of them—first Luna, then Bonnie.

And then, without so much as a pause or a second thought, he muttered in that low, gravelly voice:

“…You look good without the coat on.”

Silence.

Pure, unfiltered silence.

Both Luna and Bonnie froze like statues. The breeze kept blowing. The birds kept chirping. The river kept running.

But their minds? Stopped.

Bonnie’s face was a mixture of shock and something else—something more delicate and deeply personal. She blinked once, ears twitching, and then slowly turned toward Luna, her mouth open in the beginning of a question she couldn’t even form. Luna, in turn, looked at her, one brow raised high, the corner of her mouth already beginning to curl.

And then—like a spark catching dry leaves—Luna giggled softly.

She leaned in close, close enough that Bonnie could feel the warmth of her breath as she whispered just above the surface of her ear.

“Well… it seems a tired Ghost is a little more friendly and loose with his compliments.”

Bonnie’s face flushed instantly, the faint red blooming beneath her fur as her ears snapped back and her jaw clenched in a grimace of embarrassment. She shot Luna a sharp glare, golden eyes narrowed as if to say you say one more word and I swear to the stars, but Luna just laughed again—quiet, regal, amused.

Bonnie groaned and turned her attention back to Ghost, scowling. “Oh yeah, sure. Not like you asked or anything,” she snapped, trying to sound annoyed but unable to fully hide the nervous wobble in her voice. “You just took my coat and used it as a damn pillow.”

Ghost gave a lazy shrug, utterly unfazed. “You weren’t using it.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes hard, huffing under her breath. But then… she looked down. Looked at herself—her bare feet in the grass, her worn but comfortable pants, the tank top clinging to her in the late heat of day. She hadn’t even thought about what she looked like. It was just easier this way. Simple. Cooler. Less to carry.

But now, that quiet little comment—so unexpected, so uncharacteristically blunt and… oddly sincere—lingered like an ember in her chest.

He thinks I look good like this?

She bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to smile, trying not to let it show.

But despite her best efforts…

The blush stayed.

Ghost didn’t seem to notice the blush still lingering on Bonnie’s face. He didn’t see the way Luna was watching her with that soft, knowing smirk that suggested she’d already pieced together something Bonnie hadn’t even admitted to herself. Whatever moment had passed between them—whatever accidental crack had opened in his otherwise unflappable wall of silence—was already forgotten to him, buried under something else entirely.

He was hungry.

With a quiet grunt, Ghost pushed himself back to his hooves, adjusted the strap of his vest, and without a word started making his way back toward the river. His steps were a little firmer now—sharper, more precise. The grogginess was gone. His mission mindset had slipped back into place like an old glove. He stepped into the shallows with practiced care, eyes scanning the water as his hoof dipped down near a half-sharpened stick he'd left behind earlier, and with slow, deliberate movements, he began the patient task of fishing.

Bonnie watched him from her place on the riverbank, her arms folded loosely over her knees, tail flicking behind her as she squinted into the sunlight. Beside her, Luna’s expression softened with quiet amusement as she followed her gaze.

“So…” Luna began lightly, her voice smooth and airy as she watched Ghost wade forward with calculated stillness, “it would seem Ghost thinks you’re cute.”

Bonnie’s ear twitched hard. She rolled her eyes immediately, not even turning her head. “That is not what he said,” she said flatly. “He said I looked good. Not cute.”

Luna giggled again, her wings giving a small, teasing flutter. “You don’t take compliments well, do you?”

“I handle them just fine,” Bonnie huffed, finally turning her head to look at her. “It was just… outta place, coming from him. That’s all. I’ve had plenty of people comment on how I look—pirates, scoundrels, the usual bunch. Most of the time, it’s just sleazy types trying to get me to let my guard down or talk all nice to manipulate me. It’s not new. I know how to deal with it.”

Luna gave a small, thoughtful hum, not pressing, but clearly not done either. She turned her eyes toward Ghost again, watching the way he moved—calm, focused, methodical.

“I think the reason it caught you off guard,” she said gently, “is because he wasn’t trying to get anything out of you. He wasn’t flattering you to soften you up or lure you into anything. He was just tired. Barely thinking, really. And when he looked at you, he said what he saw. That you looked good. Simple. Honest.”

Bonnie didn’t reply at first. She looked down at her lap, her fingers twitching slightly against her pant legs, and her ears drooped just a hair as she processed that. The silence stretched for a moment, filled by the sound of the river and the distant splash of Ghost lunging—unsuccessfully—for a fish.

“…You may be right,” she said quietly at last.

Luna’s smirk returned, subtle and smooth as silk. “Maybe you shouldn’t wear that coat as much anymore.”

Bonnie snapped her head around to glare at her, her golden eyes sharp with playful warning, but Luna just giggled, clearly enjoying herself far too much.

“Oh, shut it,” Bonnie muttered, crossing her arms again. “I’m not showing off my body to Ghost. I’m just not that kind of girl. Sure, I like a real compliment—when it’s not wrapped in a lie or trying to pull something—but walking around in just this tank top isn’t my usual style. I’m only doing it because it’s hot today. Not to… prance around or anything.”

Luna gave a graceful nod, her expression thoughtful now rather than teasing. “I understand. But honestly?” She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing as she studied the distant silhouette of Ghost, still neck-deep in water and seemingly uninterested in anything but catching dinner. “I don’t think he’d care. I mean that sincerely. You could be wearing anything—or even nothing at all—and he wouldn’t look. Not unless you were injured or dying and needed help.”

Bonnie opened her mouth as if to argue—then paused. Her lips parted halfway… then closed again. She looked away, down at her arms, then to the river. Her brows furrowed slightly.

“…You know what?” she murmured. “You might be right. He probably wouldn’t.”

She let that sit for a second, letting her tail flick across the grass behind her before she finally spoke again, more quietly.

“I mean, I get it. He’s a soldier. He’s been through things I can’t even imagine. I know war messes people up—but even then… most guys, even the ones who’ve seen hell, still look. They might keep it subtle, but they look.” Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. “But him? He just… doesn’t. Not even a flick of the eye. Like none of it even registers.”

She exhaled slowly and leaned back again, one hand propping her up, her other brushing a lock of fur back from her face.

“It makes me wonder what he’s really seen.”

Luna didn’t answer right away. Her expression softened, her eyes distant. “We can’t say for sure,” she said gently. “Not unless he tells us. And he doesn’t strike me as the type who shares unless you ask. Or unless you’ve earned it.”

Bonnie nodded slowly, her golden eyes still fixed on Ghost’s shape in the river, the way he stood like a statue, unmoved by the sun or the water or the way it clung to his coat. She watched as he struck again, fast and precise, lifting a fish from the current in one fluid motion, then another.

Then Luna spoke again—soft, almost playful, but still with that glint of curiosity behind it.

“Well, we can’t say for sure he wouldn’t look,” she said with the smoothest smile. “You haven’t tried yet.”

Bonnie whipped her head toward her with a shocked, scandalized look. “No, Luna. I am not trying that.”

Luna giggled behind a wing, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“No one sees my body,” Bonnie said firmly, jabbing a finger toward her chest. “Not unless I’m dying and need medical help. That’s it. So don’t go getting any ideas.”

Luna held up a hoof in mock surrender, still grinning. “I wasn’t suggesting anything. Just… observing.”

Bonnie groaned, dragged her hand down her face, and flopped back into the grass with a sigh.

“I hate how good you are at getting under my fur sometimes.”

Luna’s only reply was another soft laugh.

And in the river, Ghost stood silently with two fish already laid at his hooves, his red eyes scanning the water for a third—completely unaware of the blush that had returned to Bonnie’s cheeks… or the way Luna kept watching both of them with that quiet, thoughtful smile that said she was already seeing the story unfold before anyone else did.

Unseen by any of them, tucked into the deep shadows of the treeline just beyond the river’s edge, a pair of eyes stared—unblinking, focused, and patient. They had been there for some time, watching the trio with a quiet, primal hunger that knew no reason and bore no strategy, only instinct. Branches trembled gently, not from wind, but from something moving within, and the stillness of the forest began to shift.

Ghost had just finished hauling the last fish from the river, the sunlight flashing off its silver scales as it flopped in his grip. With practiced ease, he flicked it onto the pile with the others, the smell of fresh water and blood clinging to his fur and gear as he began stepping out of the shallows, ready to return to the fire. But even before his hoof hit dry ground, something changed.

The sound came first—wrong. A shaking, a burst of movement too fast, too heavy to be harmless. Leaves rustled violently, bushes buckled, and the sudden crack of breaking twigs was followed by a surge of movement. Ghost’s eyes snapped up instantly, scanning the treeline—and then he saw them.

Four shapes broke from the forest all at once, moving with impossible speed and fluid menace. They weren’t wolves—not like the ones he’d fought before. These weren’t made of blood and fur and bone. These were timberwolves—living beasts of wood and bark, snarling with mouths full of jagged branches and glowing green eyes that pulsed with ancient, predatory hate.

And they were charging.

Three were headed straight for Bonnie and Luna. The fourth, larger than the others, moved differently—its glowing eyes locked on Ghost himself.

His breath caught, heart slamming into gear as adrenaline burst through him like fire in his veins. Without hesitation, he ripped the combat knife from his vest and shouted loud across the clearing.

“TIMBERWOLVES—MOVE!”

Bonnie’s ears flicked, Luna’s head snapped around, and both mares turned just in time to see the snarling wooden beasts break into the open. There was no hesitation, no warning growl—just attack.

They reacted fast, instincts driving them into motion. Bonnie surged to her feet in a blur of motion, hands clenched into fists as claws sprang from her fingers, and her lips peeled back into a snarl that was all fox, all fury. Luna’s horn flared weakly, the effort visible in the strain on her face, but the spell still lit the air with a soft, flickering blue glow.

The three wolves bore down on them with terrifying speed.

Bonnie dodged the first leap with a tight sidestep, fast and clean—but the second wolf was right behind it. She tried to move, tried to spin away, but she wasn’t fast enough to clear both. The second timberwolf caught her across the flank with a shallow swipe, wood-for-claws raking along her side, drawing a growl of pain from her chest as she twisted and slammed her claws into its stomach. It yelped, bark splitting, but it didn’t go down.

Luna fired her spell at the wolf diving toward her—light flared, struck the beast’s shoulder, and stunned it for a split-second. But that was all it got. A second later, it shook off the blow and pounced.

Luna’s scream tore through the trees as the timberwolf tackled her, claws digging into her back, slamming her to the ground with brutal force. Her eyes went wide, her breath stolen by pain and panic.

Ghost didn’t waste a second.

He saw it all—saw Luna pinned, saw Bonnie engaged with two of them—and made his call. His hooves pounded the dirt as he sprinted forward, eyes locking on the largest timberwolf bearing down on him, the one that had veered toward him alone. The thing was massive, at least a head taller than the rest, its wooden form cracked and reinforced with moss-wrapped plating. It lunged at him with jaws wide.

He sidestepped—fast, low, deliberate. The beast flew past him by inches, and he brought the knife up hard, driving it into the side of its neck. The blade sank deep, splintering wood and leaking sap like blood, but the monster didn’t die—not yet. It howled in pain, whirling around, eyes burning with fury.

Ghost yanked the blade free and followed up instantly—one hard slice across the throat, splitting the neck open in a flood of snapping bark and shrieking timber. The beast collapsed in a heap, body shuddering once before falling still.

He turned immediately and ran.

Luna.

She was still on the ground, the wolf pressing its claws into her back, her wings twitching helplessly beneath her. Her eyes met his for a split second, and in that moment, he saw it—pure pain, pure panic. She couldn’t fight it off. Not in time.

He launched himself at them.

His body hit the timberwolf like a freight train, knocking it clean off Luna and sending both of them rolling through the dirt. Before it could recover, Ghost pinned it down, teeth clenched, and drove the knife down with both hooves, straight into its skull. A sickening crack echoed out as the blade punched through the cranium and into the mossy brain beneath.

It spasmed once. Then went limp.

Luna collapsed beside him, gasping, eyes fluttering as blood soaked into the fur along her back. She looked dazed. Her legs trembled. But she was breathing.

“Stay down!” he barked, already rising again. “Don’t move!”

He didn’t wait to see if she answered.

Bonnie was still fighting—and she was in trouble.

One wolf was pinned beneath her, snarling and thrashing, but the other had gotten behind her. Before Ghost could shout a warning, it lunged—its jaws closing down hard on Bonnie’s left shoulder.

Her scream tore through the forest.

She flinched, her body seizing as she lost her grip on the timberwolf beneath her. That one—now free—rolled fast and slashed upward, catching her in the upper leg with a brutal rake of its claws. Bonnie cried out again, stumbling as blood bloomed across her thigh and shoulder, her stance falling apart.

Ghost didn’t think—he just moved.

He was on them in seconds, knife raised. The wolf latched onto Bonnie’s shoulder didn’t even see him coming. He brought the blade down in a clean, practiced arc—stabbed it in the back of the head. The creature gave a sickening crackle and dropped like a stone, jaws releasing as it went limp.

The last wolf turned—just in time to catch Ghost’s eyes.

Too late.

He slammed the knife forward—into its throat, under the jaw, deep and brutal.

It fell.

The clearing went still.

No snarls. No screams. Just the ragged sound of three people breathing hard through pain and adrenaline and blood.

Ghost stood there, chest heaving, eyes wild, knife dripping green sap and dark red blood. Around him lay the broken bodies of four timberwolves—one still twitching, the others silent.

He turned, fast—first to Luna, who lay motionless in the grass, her wings trembling, blood trailing down her back in thin rivers. Her eyes were open, barely.

Then to Bonnie—clutching her shoulder, breath shallow, one leg trembling as she forced herself not to collapse.

He moved between them, knife still tight in his grip, breath short, eyes scanning the woods again—because in his world, one attack never meant it was over.

But for now…

The danger had passed.

And the blood told the price they had paid.

Ghost moved the moment his brain calculated that Bonnie couldn’t keep herself upright on her own. She was bleeding too heavily, and her leg—her left leg—was dragging slightly as she tried to shift her weight. Without waiting for her to ask, he was at her side in a blur, his voice low and controlled but urgent.

“Lean on me. Now. I’ve got to get you to Luna.”

Bonnie didn’t argue. She just gave a tight nod and slung her good arm around his shoulders, wincing as she shifted her weight to him. Her body was hot with pain, her breathing uneven, the claw marks on her chest and the deep bite in her shoulder still oozing. Her tank top, once a dark red, was quickly turning darker—patches of crimson and near-black where the blood soaked through the fabric. Her left leg hung limp at her side, only the barest pressure making her wince hard enough to grit her teeth.

Ghost didn’t waste time. He dragged her as quickly and steadily as he could across the uneven ground, his powerful earth pony frame making short work of the distance. He wasn’t gentle—not because he didn’t care, but because time was his enemy. The longer they bled, the worse things would get.

They reached Luna, and Ghost eased Bonnie down near the riverbank before turning to assess the alicorn.

His eyes narrowed the moment he took in her condition.

Luna’s entire back was torn open, a mess of gashes and shredded fur, streaks of red matting her midnight coat. She had passed out, or at the very least lost consciousness from the sheer shock of the pain—her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shallow but present. The timberwolf that had jumped her had raked her over and over, and it showed in the blood pooled beneath her and the trembling of her wings.

Ghost’s expression tightened. He had no medical supplies. No gauze, no alcohol, not even clean cloth. But he had what was around him, and the instincts of someone who’d helped patch up dying men under fire more times than he could count.

He turned fast, scanning the area. The dead timberwolves, their bodies shattered across the clearing, still held the leafy moss-like fibers clinging to their bark. He moved in a blur, gathering what he could—soft, broad-leafed foliage, the inner layers of bark, anything that could serve as absorbent material. There were bushes nearby too, with clean, fibrous underlayers he could strip. It wasn’t ideal, but nothing out here was.

He returned to Luna quickly, scooping water from the river with cupped hooves and using it to wash the blood from her back, rinsing the gashes and letting the water run clean for a few seconds before beginning to pack the wounds. He worked quickly but not carelessly—wrapping tight, even layers, keeping pressure where it needed to be. He remembered what combat medics had taught him, the way he’d helped hold down his squadmates while a corpsman tried to keep their insides from spilling out.

It took six long minutes.

When he was done, Luna was still unconscious, her body lax from the blood loss, but the bleeding had slowed to a stop. That alone was a small victory.

He turned to Bonnie then.

She was watching the whole time, her expression unreadable at first—tense, clearly shaken, blood still trailing down her shoulder and leg—but her concern was all for Luna. When Ghost met her eyes, she didn’t speak, but he saw the weight there. The fear. The guilt.

“I stopped the bleeding,” Ghost said simply, quietly. “She’ll live. But I can’t do anything for the pain.”

Bonnie nodded once, her jaw tight.

“Now,” Ghost said, gesturing toward her, “I need to work on you. Get over here, closer to the river.”

She obeyed without question, with a slight hiss of pain as she shifted. He helped lower her down next to Luna, easing her back against the grass. She was already pale beneath her fur.

Ghost crouched beside her and looked her in the eyes.

“Bonnie,” he said evenly, his tone professional, clear, and without the faintest trace of awkwardness, “I know how you are with privacy. I can work on your shoulder without removing your tank top, but the claw across your chest is bad—real bad. I’ll need to remove the shirt to clean it properly. Same with your left leg. The claw hit is high up, near your hip. Your pants are too thick to roll. I’ve got two options—cut the left side off, or pull them down.”

He paused a beat, watching her closely.

“Or you can treat yourself, if you think you’re able.”

Bonnie winced at the thought. “No… no, I can’t. I never learned medical. If I got hurt, I’d find a doctor. That was my system. So… no, you gotta do it.”

She took a long breath, pain in every exhale. “Fuck my shirt—just remove it. I want to live. And… just pull the pants down. I’d look too damn stupid with one side missing anyway.”

Ghost nodded once and moved fast. No hesitation. No lingering. Time mattered more than anything else now.

He peeled her shirt off first—lifting it over her head gently, exposing her bra, now stained from blood but still mostly intact. Her chest, just beneath the collar and above her breasts, showed three deep claw lines, the worst of which had stopped bleeding but looked ragged and raw. He gave it a glance, committing the severity to memory, then lowered his eyes to the injury on her leg. He moved to her pants next, undoing them quickly and pulling them down just far enough to reach the claw marks near her left hip.

Bonnie laid still through all of it, her jaw tight, breath shallow. She wasn’t flustered. Wasn’t even embarrassed. She was in too much pain to care, and more importantly—she trusted Ghost. She knew he’d see her—her body, her wounds—but she also knew he wouldn’t look. Not like that. He’d see what was there because he had to, but his eyes would be professional, not searching.

And true to her faith in him, Ghost didn’t flinch. Didn’t gawk. He worked.

He cleaned the bite on her shoulder first—gently but firmly, wiping away blood and dirt, then packing the wound with makeshift materials before bandaging it tightly. She hissed in pain, her claws digging into the grass, but she didn’t cry out. She endured.

Next came the leg. The gash was deep and long, nearly tearing into the muscle. He worked in silence, wrapping it carefully, then binding it in layers to reduce movement. She whimpered once, unable to stop the sound from escaping her throat, but Ghost didn’t pause. He worked clean. Efficient. Unshakable.

Then came the chest.

He looked it over, brows drawn.

“You got lucky,” he muttered, voice low. “That claw came close to your throat. Too close. You could’ve died on that hit.”

Bonnie nodded faintly. She knew. She felt it the moment it hit.

He cleaned the wound, wrapping it as gently as possible to avoid putting pressure on her throat.

And then he paused, eyeing a thin line of blood just barely visible along the curve of her right breast. A shallow scratch, not deep, not bleeding much—but real. A graze from the claw, just barely nicking her.

He didn’t assume.

“Bonnie,” he said calmly, eyes still on the wound, “that last swipe—some of the claws barely made it to your right breast. It didn’t hit the bra or go far down, but it is on it. I’m asking—do I treat it?”

Bonnie glanced down, saw the scratch, and sighed. It was barely anything. But infections didn’t care about size.

“Yeah,” she muttered. “Thanks for asking. Just patch me up already.”

Ghost nodded and cleaned it with the same quiet professionalism, touching only where he had to, wrapping the injury with steady hooves. He didn’t comment. Didn’t linger. And never once looked her in the face—not because he didn’t care, but because she knew he did.

And soon… it was done.

“You’ll live,” Ghost said, sitting back, his coat flecked with blood and sap, his breathing steady. “All bleeding’s stopped.”

Bonnie gave him a tired smile, weak but real.

“Thank you. For saving me… and patching me up.”

Ghost only nodded, his red eyes scanning the treeline again, always watching. Always ready. Because rest… would have to wait.

Ghost turned back toward Bonnie once he’d finished bandaging her final wound, and for a long moment, his red eyes lingered—not on her body, not on the damage, but on the careful rise and fall of her chest, the shallow rhythm of her breathing, the tightening at the corners of her eyes that told him how much pain she was still holding inside. He didn’t say anything, didn’t give her some tired reassurance or ask if she was alright. He just moved with that same steady, unshaken focus, crouching back down beside her and reaching out toward the waist of her pants.

He paused, just a second, enough to glance up and silently check her eyes.

Then, slowly and with the utmost care, he guided the waistband of her pants back up over her hips, making sure not to tug or twist or bump the fresh bandages on her injured leg. His movements were slow, deliberate, respectful—he adjusted the fabric over her without a single ounce of discomfort in his posture, and made sure the rough seams didn’t catch on her wounds. And Bonnie… she just watched.

Her face was still flushed faintly, but her expression had softened. As she felt the cloth slide gently back into place and saw how Ghost worked—how precise he was, how he never looked anywhere he didn’t need to—she smiled faintly and gave him a tiny nod, a silent thank you, not just for helping, but for giving her back her privacy without ever making her ask.

In her mind, she couldn’t help but think back to everything she’d just been through—the pain, the terror, the blood—and how he’d handled it all. She’d been fully exposed to him, there was no point denying that. He had seen her bra, her underwear, and the messy way her body looked in the middle of all that violence. Not in a clean, elegant way—but raw and real and bloody. And never, not once, had he stared. Not once had his eyes drifted to the wrong place. Even when it was all right there in front of him, even when she knew you physically can’t block your sight from something so direct… he never looked in a way that made her feel small. Never in a way that made her feel seen wrong.

And for someone like her, someone who’d lived her whole life surrounded by pirates and silver-tongued liars and wandering eyes that always wanted something, that… meant everything.

That moment—that quiet, unseen line—was where something shifted. She didn’t just trust Ghost to fight beside her anymore. She trusted him with her life. With her body. With her safety in ways she’d never handed over to anyone before. She would never like showing her body, not ever—but the fact that he’d seen it now, and she didn’t feel wrong or ashamed or wary in the slightest, told her one thing with perfect clarity.

She trusted him. Fully.

Ghost glanced down at the ruined tank top beside her, picking it up and holding it between his hooves for a moment as he examined the long, jagged claw mark tearing through the chest. The fabric had been shredded across the front, from just beneath the neckline to halfway down the left side, and the left shoulder strap was barely attached, hanging by a few frayed threads. He looked at it a second longer, then held it out toward her.

“Well,” he said flatly, “not sure how useful this’ll be.”

Bonnie raised her head and looked. The moment she saw the damage, she exhaled in a tired breath and let her head fall back again with a soft groan.

“Yeah… it’s trash,” she muttered. “Didn’t care for it much anyway.”

Ghost nodded once, no comment, and with a clean toss, let the fabric drift off into the grass, forgotten. He stood, walking a short distance back toward the campfire site, and after a few seconds returned with the black coat—her coat—the one he’d used as a pillow earlier.

She watched him as he knelt beside her again, and gently laid the coat over her, not like a garment to be worn, but like a blanket. He covered her chest with it, careful not to let the fabric press down on her bandaged shoulder, tucking it just lightly over her midsection so she wouldn’t feel exposed.

“Keep it on you,” he said, his voice low and even. “Don’t put it on yet. The wounds need time.”

Bonnie just nodded again, her arms moving slowly to hold the coat in place. She didn’t say thank you out loud this time. She didn’t need to. Her expression said it all.

Ghost didn’t linger beside her. He stepped back a few paces, his eyes already scanning the treeline again, the knife still tucked into its sheath but ready, his entire body shifting back into silent vigilance. He didn’t sit. Didn’t relax. Just watched. Waited. Guarded.

Bonnie lay back slowly, the soft rustling of leaves above her playing in her ears as her golden eyes drifted toward the treetops, watching the wind stir through the canopy, sunlight slipping in and out of shadow. The pain was still fierce, every throb in her leg and shoulder like a fresh reminder of just how fast things could go wrong—but that wasn’t what burned most in her chest.

No, what stung was the realization that she’d been caught off guard. Not just for herself, but for Luna. If she’d seen the wolves coming—if she’d been more alert—maybe Luna wouldn’t be lying next to her right now, unconscious and bloodied. Maybe she could’ve done more. Maybe they’d both be walking, unhurt, if she’d just been sharper.

She clenched her jaw, fists curling into the grass beneath her.

She hated that feeling. Powerless. Vulnerable.

But she wouldn’t let it happen again.

As she stared up at the sky, Bonnie made herself a promise, clear and cold as steel in her mind: when she was healed, when she could stand again without pain, she’d ask Ghost to train her—really train her. She didn’t care how hard it would be. She didn’t care if it hurt. She would not be caught slacking again. Not ever. No one else was going to get hurt because she wasn’t fast enough.

Not while she was still breathing.

Chapter Text

The night dragged on like molasses, thick with silence and the quiet groans of pain from the wounded.

Ghost sat in the same spot for hours, his back straight, his eyes constantly moving, scanning the treeline, listening to every crack of a twig or whisper of a breeze as if the trees might suddenly breathe danger again. He didn’t rest. He didn’t allow himself even a moment to doze. Guard duty was second nature to him by now—more reflex than decision. After so many nights spent in warzones, his mind knew how to keep him alert without asking permission.

Behind him, Bonnie let out the occasional pained sigh or soft whimper, the kind she clearly tried to suppress out of habit. He wanted to help, wanted to ease her pain, but there was nothing more he could do for that. His field training only went so far—he could stop bleeding, he could bandage a wound, he could even improvise when things got ugly, but pain? That was something you endured. Something you pushed through or drowned in.

He kept watch.

The rest of the night passed without incident. No more timberwolves. No glowing eyes from the woods. Just the chirping of insects and the low murmur of the river, peaceful in the way that only wilderness could be—uncaring and vast and quiet.

Eventually, morning crept in slow and gray through the trees. Birds started to sing again. The sun reached through the branches in long slanting rays, casting dappled light over the clearing.

Ghost glanced at the sky—judging by the light, it was about 10 a.m. His stomach gave a low grumble. He frowned slightly, remembering that none of them had eaten yesterday—not since before the attack. He looked down beside him, where Bonnie still lay beneath her coat, curled slightly on her side, her breathing steady but tense. At some point, she had managed to fall asleep.

He leaned down slightly and nudged her shoulder with his hoof. “Bonnie.”

She stirred immediately, her brow scrunching in pain as she winced from the movement, one hand raising to rub at her eyes. She yawned—soft, groggy, pained—then looked at him.

“Sorry to wake you,” Ghost said, keeping his voice low. “But I need to check your bandages and change them out.”

Bonnie nodded wordlessly, her face still drawn tight with exhaustion. She sat up with effort, her coat sliding off her shoulders as she moved. Ghost got to work.

He removed the bandages on her shoulder first, then her chest, checking for signs of infection. The wounds were raw but clean. Still angry-looking, but no pus, no heat. He replaced the wraps with fresh materials—more moss, soft bark, and thin strips of cleaned cloth he’d salvaged from his undershirt overnight. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing.

Then, with professional detachment, he worked her pants down again to check the wound high on her hip. It was healing slowly, but still red and sore. He cleaned it with river water, applied pressure where it was needed, and re-wrapped it carefully, then helped her pull the pants back up when he was done.

He did the same for Luna next, checking the massive claw wounds along her back. Her breathing was slow and even, but still shallow, still strained. She hadn’t moved once since the night before. He re-wrapped her wounds, being as gentle as possible, though she twitched faintly when the cold river water touched her skin.

He sighed once the work was done, wiping his hooves off on the grass. They needed food. If nothing else, it would help them keep their strength up.

He turned to Bonnie.

“Hate to ask this, Bonnie,” he said, standing again, “but can you help me with lookout? I need to get more fish. I’m staying right here by the river—no risks. But I need eyes up while I’m focused.”

Bonnie shifted her shoulders, adjusting the coat across her body again. “Yeah,” she said simply. “I can do that.”

Ghost moved beside her and gently helped her into a sitting position, taking care not to jar her shoulder or her hip. She hissed through her teeth, a sharp intake of pain that made him grimace slightly.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s fine, Ghost,” she breathed out. “You’ve done all you can.”

He nodded once and turned to the river, staying near the shoreline, never more than a few feet away from where they rested. Bonnie, now upright and alert, scanned the treeline with a sharpness she hadn’t shown before. Even through the haze of pain in her limbs, her eyes moved constantly—trained now, focused, no longer assuming safety was something the forest would grant without question.

Ghost worked quickly, catching fish one by one, using a sharpened stick and sheer precision to spear them from the shallows. When he had enough, he brought them back and started building a fresh campfire, setting it up close—right next to the riverbank and beside the others, so he wouldn’t have to move them. The fire caught fast, smoke rising in lazy spirals into the sky. He laid the fish across a makeshift grill of branches and stood back, the scent of cooking meat slowly curling through the air.

Then he turned toward Luna.

He moved to her side and knelt down, nudging her gently with a hoof. She groaned, her brows tightening, and after a moment, her eyes opened.

Immediately, she hissed in pain, her body tensing against the dirt.

“Don’t move,” Ghost said quietly. “Just stay on your stomach. You’re patched up, but your back’s a mess. I did what I could, but… yeah. I can’t do anything for the pain.”

Luna gritted her teeth and gave a small nod, her eyes glistening slightly from the raw intensity of it. She tried to shift, only to wince again, breathing hard through her nose. After a few moments of struggling, she managed to turn her head just enough to glance back—and froze.

Her eyes widened.

Her entire back was wrapped—thick makeshift bandages covering nearly every inch of skin from her shoulders down to the base of her spine. She stared at it in disbelief, blinking slowly, realization sinking in. She knew she’d been hurt, knew the wolf had gotten her, but to see it laid out in full—the scale of it—was something else entirely.

After a long, stunned pause, she turned her head back and looked at Ghost.

“…That bad?”

Ghost gave her a calm nod. “Yeah. You got messed up bad. I patched you up as well as I could.”

She blinked again, glancing at the material. “These bandages… they’re improvised, but… solid.”

“They’ll hold,” Ghost said.

Then Luna turned her head slightly toward Bonnie—and her expression shifted again.

Bonnie, seeing the look, understood immediately. She pulled the coat off her chest with one arm, letting it fall down around her waist, exposing her shoulders and bra. Her chest was bandaged in clean strips of cloth, the edges of the claw marks still red but clearly healing.

“I figured you’d wonder,” Bonnie said, shrugging. “He had to patch me up too. And yeah, he’s seen it all. But I trust him now. Fully. Didn’t even flinch.”

Ghost glanced over at her at the word “fully,” his expression unreadable—but then looked back to the fire.

Bonnie added with a softer smile, “I don’t care if you see it. You’re a girl, and a friend. Doesn’t bother me.”

Luna nodded slowly, eyes flicking across the injuries—then winced in sympathy as Bonnie leaned back and carefully, very carefully, pulled her pants down just enough to reveal the vicious claw marks along her left leg. Blood had dried around the edges, and the wraps were tight and well-secured, but the injury was no less nasty.

Bonnie pulled the pants back up and laid the coat over herself again like a blanket, sighing.

“Yeah,” she muttered, “trust me. I feel your pain, Luna.”

The alicorn just nodded quietly, her eyes distant, voice barely above a whisper.

“…We both got lucky.”

The smell of cooked fish filled the air in the soft hush of the morning, rising with the lazy swirls of smoke from the low-burning campfire beside the river. The flames crackled gently, warm and controlled, and the meat was perfectly done—crisp on the outside, soft and steaming within. Ghost, quiet and methodical, removed the fish from the makeshift grill, plating each one with care on broad leaves he’d gathered during his patrols.

He didn’t speak. He just moved to Luna first, setting the fish gently in front of her where she lay on her stomach, careful not to force her to shift or reach too far. She gave him a tired nod of thanks, though even that small motion made her wince and draw in a sharp breath through clenched teeth.

Then he moved to Bonnie, setting her fish at her side the same way, not requiring her to lift more than a hand to eat. She, too, gave him a nod, accompanied by a quiet grunt of pain. It was rough, but food was food—and they all needed the energy.

Bonnie started eating in silence, shifting slightly to balance herself upright. Her coat, still draped over her like a blanket, hung across her shoulders and chest, covering her modesty but rubbing awkwardly against the bandaged wounds on her shoulder and across her chest. At first, she tried to ignore it—just grit her teeth and push through—but every time she reached to lift a piece of fish to her mouth, the coat shifted, dragging the rough inner lining over raw flesh, making her flinch each time.

Finally, with an irritated growl and a sharp huff, she reached down, grabbed the edge of the coat, and tossed it off to the side with a flick of her arm.

Luna glanced over in surprise, then softened her expression as she saw Bonnie’s relief. The fox let out a quiet sigh and settled back, the pain ebbing just slightly now that nothing was rubbing against her wounds. She didn’t care that she sat there in just her bra and pants anymore. Comfort came first. Pain had stripped away whatever modesty she might’ve clung to. She could breathe easier now, and that was worth it.

She returned to eating, taking slow, careful bites of the warm fish.

Then, without preamble, she turned her head and looked at Ghost—serious now, her eyes sharp and focused.

“Ghost,” she said, her tone heavy with meaning, “after I heal up… I want you to train me.”

Ghost blinked and looked up from where he sat near the fire. His brow furrowed slightly, confused, and he tilted his head. “Train you?”

Bonnie saw the look and nodded once. “Yeah. Look—I suck at close combat. I mean it. I’ve always used a gun. That’s it. That was my thing. I don’t have it now. And after yesterday? Look at me. Look at Luna. We both got messed up bad. If I had taken the time to actually learn how to fight with my claws, with my hands, anything... it might’ve gone differently. Hell, I’ve got sharp teeth. I’ve got claws. I’m literally built to fight up close, but I didn’t use any of that—not really.”

She paused and looked down at the ground, jaw tightening.

“I thought a gun was all I needed. That was stupid.”

Before Ghost could say anything, Luna’s voice broke through softly.

“It’s not your fault, Bonnie.”

The fox turned to her, surprised.

Luna continued, her voice quiet but firm. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I relied on my magic. Too much. I’m a Princess of Equestria… and yet I made the same mistake so many others make. I assumed I could handle anything just because of my magic, my title. I didn’t learn how to fight with my hooves, or my body, or any of the things I should’ve. I was arrogant. So please… don’t put this all on yourself. We don’t plan to be attacked. We weren’t ready, that’s all.”

She turned her gaze to Ghost, her eyes earnest now.

“But… I agree with Bonnie. We need training. We need to learn how to fight. For real.”

Ghost looked between the two of them. The fire popped quietly in the background. A cool breeze stirred the grass at their feet.

He didn’t speak right away.

Then, at last, he nodded slowly.

“I’m willing to train you. A little.”

Bonnie’s eyes lit up slightly, though she kept her expression serious. Luna perked her ears, surprised.

“There’s a lot I can’t—or won’t—teach,” Ghost continued. “Guns are out. You don’t have any, and I’m not giving anyone that knowledge unless I have no other option. And a lot of the special ops stuff I’ve learned… it’s not the kind of training you want. Trust me.”

There was a long pause.

Then Bonnie looked him dead in the eye.

“You know… if I’m gonna live the rest of my life here, I don’t want to ever be in a spot again where my friends get hurt because I wasn’t ready.”

Her voice dropped just a bit, more serious, more personal.

“And Ghost? I see you as a good friend. No… not just that.”

She leaned forward slightly, eyes firm.

“I see you as my crew. I see you as my captain.”

Ghost blinked.

That stunned him.

He stared at her, unsure how to respond, caught somewhere between disbelief and the ghost of something like emotion flickering in his chest. It hit in a strange place—one he hadn’t felt in a long time. A place where camaraderie, loyalty, and something unspoken lived. In his world, things like this were rare. Trust like that didn’t come easily. And Bonnie had just handed it over like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Luna, watching silently, smiled faintly. She didn’t speak, but she understood. A pirate’s loyalty wasn’t given lightly. To name someone captain… it meant everything.

Bonnie pressed on, her voice soft but unwavering.

“So if that’s what this is… then I want to learn everything you can teach me. Not just the easy stuff. Not just when it’s convenient. I know your training’s gonna be hell. I expect that. And I’ll wait until you say I’m ready. But when I am—I want you to teach me.”

Ghost sat in silence for a long moment.

Then, slowly, he nodded.

“I’ll think about it.”

Bonnie smiled then, small and real, nodding back at him.

He looked to both of them, their bandaged bodies sitting side by side, their expressions hardened with resolve.

“…But for now,” he said, leaning forward to check the fish, “once you’re both healed, I’ll start training you in close-quarters combat. No weapons. Just the basics. What I can teach.”

Both Bonnie and Luna smiled—wincing, tired, but hopeful.

It wasn’t just healing now. It wasn’t just surviving.

It was the beginning of something stronger.

The fire had burned low now, reduced to glowing embers and soft orange flickers beneath the crackling logs. Smoke drifted lazily upward into the trees, curling into the clear morning air as birds chirped faintly in the distance. All around them, the forest had returned to a deceptive stillness, peaceful in the way wild places often were after violence—quiet, but never truly safe.

Ghost sat still, his body upright but relaxed in posture, the kind of stillness born from deep thinking rather than calm. His red eyes stared into the fire, not really seeing it. His mind was elsewhere—locked on something Bonnie had said.

“I see you as my crew. I see you as my captain.”

He hadn’t expected that. Not at all. The words had hit harder than any physical wound ever could, not because they hurt, but because they meant something—something bigger than trust. It wasn’t just loyalty. It was family. It was responsibility. And he wasn’t used to that. Not anymore.

Back in his world, the closest he’d ever come to friendship had been with his special ops team. Those men and women, the ones who bled beside him, who lived and died on the edge of war with him—they had been the only ones he’d ever opened up to, even a little. But even that came with its own kind of pain. Because in that life, friends died. Too often. Too easily.

He still remembered what it felt like—dragging a teammate’s body out of a blast zone, knowing they wouldn’t make it, watching the light go out in someone’s eyes and knowing their name, their history, their dreams. It never got easier. No matter how many times it happened, no matter how many times he told himself to get numb, to harden up, it never got easier when it was someone you knew.

Strangers dying? That was war. You accept it.

But teammates… brothers and sisters-in-arms… friends?

That stayed with you. It burned.

And now Bonnie had called him her captain. Called herself crew. That wasn't just her being dramatic—that was her pirate soul laying something serious at his hooves, and he could see it in her face, in the way she said it. She meant it. She’d placed that kind of bond between them. Permanently.

And Luna—while quieter about it—wasn’t far behind.

If he was going to accept that responsibility again, if he was going to lead anyone, even unofficially… he couldn’t afford to be soft. He had to train her right. He had to train both of them. Because if either of them got hurt again—if either of them died because he didn’t push them hard enough—he knew damn well that guilt would land squarely on his back and never let go.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he thought back to the fight.

The timberwolves. Four of them. Fast, aggressive, smart. He’d killed one with precision, taken another off Luna, finished both of Bonnie’s attackers in rapid succession. It had all happened in seconds.

But it was what they were that stuck in his mind.

Timberwolves.

That wasn’t random.

He remembered the show. Vividly. Timberwolves weren’t just monsters—they were native to one place: the Everfree Forest. In the cartoon, that forest was wild, strange, and dangerous—but it had been mostly centered near Ponyville. It was supposed to be avoided, not just because of monsters, but because it couldn’t be controlled. The weather, the wildlife, the plants—everything in it moved on its own, outside pony influence.

And that idea had always struck him as funny. Because his world? That was the norm. No one controlled the weather. No one controlled the growth of forests or the movement of clouds. Nature was nature. So in a way, this forest felt more real to him than the rest of the magical world surrounding it.

But if timberwolves were here—and they were—that meant this was the Everfree.

Maybe.

And if it was… then that meant something.

He turned his head slowly, looking across the fire toward Luna and Bonnie. They had both finished eating, their empty leaves set aside, their bodies resting again, wrapped in makeshift bandages and the remnants of comfort.

“Luna,” he said quietly, his voice pulling her from her haze.

She blinked once, then turned her head to look at him.

He studied her for a beat, then asked, “The timberwolves… seeing them here—does that tell you anything about where we are? You’ve been gone a thousand years, I know. But it’s still you. Does any of this seem familiar?”

Luna hummed softly, her gaze turning distant as she looked toward the dark treeline.

She didn’t speak right away.

Then, slowly, she nodded.

“Well… if nothing has changed too much since my time,” she said carefully, “timberwolves were a known threat in the Everfree Forest. Back then, it was a far more dangerous place than most ponies would ever dare explore. And yes… it’s true. That forest was once home to the capital of Equestria.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow slightly.

“The capital was in a place like this?”

“Yes,” Luna said, her expression thoughtful now. “At the time, it made sense. We needed a location we could defend. High ground. Dense woods. Magical pressure. Back then, Equestria wasn’t the peaceful place it is now. There were wars, rebellions, outside threats. The Everfree, for all its dangers, gave us control. Isolation. Power.”

She frowned a little. “But… over time, things changed. If I had to guess, my sister Celestia made peace with many of those threats after I was gone. She wouldn’t have kept the capital here, not forever. Not in such a dangerous place. So if we are in the Everfree now, we’re far from the current seat of power.”

Ghost nodded slowly.

“Still,” Luna added, “if I can find familiar landmarks—rivers, cliffs, ruins—I may be able to tell where in the forest we are. I just need time. And strength.”

Ghost turned back to the fire, nodding again. The quiet fell between them for a moment, the flames cracking softly.

So. They might be in the Everfree.

That told him something.

And it told him they were probably alone out here.

Which meant no backup.

He exhaled, slow and quiet.

Whatever came next… he’d have to be ready.

And this time, so would they.

The fire crackled softly beside them, the river murmuring in the background, and for a long moment, the three of them sat in relative silence—until Luna turned her head and frowned in quiet thought. Her eyes flicked toward Ghost, and her brow furrowed just slightly as a thread of logic tugged loose in her mind.

“Wait… Ghost,” she said slowly, shifting slightly despite the pain in her back. “You’re not from this world. You haven’t left this forest since arriving, correct?”

Ghost blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. He nodded, a little unsure. “Yeah. That’s right. You were the first one I met after I landed here.”

Luna’s frown deepened slightly. “Then how,” she said carefully, “do you know what a timberwolf is?”

Bonnie, still half reclined on her makeshift bedding, turned her head at that, her ears perking with curiosity. She looked at Ghost too—though not with suspicion, more confusion. Interest. The kind that came from realizing something wasn’t quite adding up.

She didn’t press him. But she was definitely listening now.

Ghost stiffened slightly. Not outwardly—but just enough. Internally, one word echoed in his mind, slow and loud and dry:

Fuck.

He’d slipped. He’d said too much. And now Luna had caught it. And Bonnie was watching him too, her eyes narrowing not in distrust, but like someone pulling the corners off a mystery and starting to see what might be underneath.

He didn’t answer right away. His hoof drifted up slightly, brushing at the side of his helmet. His gaze lowered. He thought fast—but also carefully.

They already trusted him. Bonnie more than anyone, maybe. She’d made that clear. And Luna—she was sharp, but not cruel. She’d seen enough by now to know he wasn’t a threat.

Still… this was going to be a lot.

“I’m not sure you’ll believe me,” he said at last, his voice low. “And honestly, you might just think I’m crazy.”

Luna gave him a flat look, her expression unreadable. “Ghost. You and Bonnie are not from this world. That alone is already insane. I think I can handle a little more crazy.”

Ghost let out a breath, almost a chuckle—dry, tired, but honest.

“Alright. Fair.”

He turned his head toward them both, his expression serious now. “Before I explain anything, I need to tell you something about where I come from. About my world.”

Bonnie and Luna both leaned in just slightly, listening. Neither interrupted.

“On my world,” he said slowly, “we have something called ‘TV.’ Short for television. You won’t know what that is, but think of it like this: imagine a stage play. You know how plays work—actors, sets, scenes performed live. Well… instead of performing for a live audience, people use something called cameras to record what happens. You already know what my helmet cam does—it records what I see. A camera is like that. But designed to record people acting out stories.”

Bonnie’s brow rose slightly. “So… it’s like someone’s helmet cam, but made to watch people perform things on purpose?”

“Exactly,” Ghost nodded. “And the footage gets played back through a machine—TVs. People buy them for their homes, and they can watch these recorded shows whenever they want. Stories, performances, even history or news. Entertainment.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “And anyone can buy one of these… ‘TVs?’”

“Yeah,” Ghost said. “Pretty much every human on my planet has one. Most families have four or more in different rooms. It’s part of daily life.”

Bonnie gave a quiet whistle. “Damn. Wish the Spiral had something like that. Sounds… relaxing. And useful.”

Luna nodded in agreement. “Indeed. A way to bring stories to the people… without needing to gather in one place. Fascinating.”

Ghost hesitated for a moment, then pushed forward.

“Okay. So now here’s where it gets… weird.”

He looked directly at Luna.

“What if I told you that one of the shows people can watch on my world… is called My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. And it’s about this world.”

The look Luna gave him was frozen, like someone whose brain had just momentarily unplugged.

Bonnie stared too, mouth half open, her ears twitching in disbelief.

Ghost continued, calmly, evenly.

“I mean it. A show. For entertainment. Made by humans. About this world. About Equestria. About you.”

He pointed at Luna.

Bonnie finally blinked. “Wait… you’re saying… the world I ended up in, the world we’re in right now, was just… some kind of story on your planet?”

Ghost nodded. “Yeah. People used to watch it all the time. In fact… I was one of them. I watched the show. That’s how I knew what a timberwolf was.”

Luna gave a quiet exhale, then dropped her head into her hooves for a long moment.

“Okay,” she muttered. “I take it back. There is, in fact, more crazy left in this world.”

Bonnie leaned back slowly, her eyes wide, still processing. “So… wait. If you watched that show, then that means… you’ve seen stuff before it happened? Like future events?”

Ghost nodded slowly. “Some of them, yeah. Not everything. But depending where we are in the timeline… I might know a few things. What’s coming. What might be important.”

Luna lifted her head again, her face caught somewhere between disbelief and resignation.

“And you just… watched our lives? Like it was a story?”

Ghost shrugged slightly. “I didn’t know it was real. None of us did. We thought it was just fiction. But now… I’m not so sure.”

Bonnie just shook her head slowly, her expression unreadable.

And then, very softly, she muttered:

“…Your world is weird.”

Ghost smirked faintly.

“You’ve got no idea.”

Luna exhaled slowly, her chest rising and falling with a deep, controlled breath as the fire crackled quietly nearby. Her eyes were still locked on Ghost, her expression a mixture of curiosity, apprehension, and sheer disbelief. After a long moment of silence, she finally spoke, her voice level but edged with something uncertain.

“There is… a lot to unpack here.”

She looked at Ghost directly, her eyes narrowing slightly, but not in anger—more in overwhelmed amazement. “First off, I’m not sure how I feel about being watched like that. Having my entire life shown as some kind of performance for another world…”

She trailed off, but then her eyes sparkled with a touch of dry sarcasm, and she smirked faintly.

“…Thank you for the complete lack of privacy, I suppose.”

Ghost chuckled under his breath, just a little. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“But,” Luna continued, the seriousness returning to her tone, “like Bonnie pointed out—you knowing the future? That is a very big deal.”

Ghost gave a small shrug, but his face stayed serious. “Yeah. It is. But you gotta remember something. What I know from the show? That’s… not guaranteed. It’s just a version of events. Things can be different here. And… probably already are.”

He looked at Luna evenly.

“But I’ll be honest with you. Yeah—I knew who you were the moment I saw you. I knew everything. The Nightmare. The banishment. The prophecy. The redemption.”

He paused for a second, letting the weight of it sink in.

“The very first two episodes of the show were about you. About Nightmare Moon being defeated, and you being freed. I knew who the Element of Harmony bearers were going to be before I even saw a single one of them. I knew about Canterlot. About the Everfree. About the threats to come. A lot.”

Luna’s face had gone still, the light fading slightly from her eyes as the scope of what he was saying began to register. Her voice, when it came, was quiet, and just a bit harder than before.

“And… you didn’t think to tell me this?”

“I didn’t want to interfere,” Ghost said calmly. “And you’re not going to like this—but I was worried about changing the timeline. Because if I told you things too early, it could mess with how they unfold. Especially with the Element Bearers. They’re not just some chosen ones—they grow into it. They earn it. If I tell them what to expect, it changes that.”

Luna frowned, thinking deeply, chewing on the idea. But before she could say anything else, Bonnie finally sat up a little straighter, wincing but nodding.

“Well… if what you say is true,” she began slowly, “then yeah. The growth of these ‘Element Bearers’ or whatever—sounds important. But Ghost… I hate to break it to you…”

She looked him in the eye.

“…That timeline you’re so worried about? It’s already completely screwed.”

Ghost blinked. “How do you figure?”

Bonnie tilted her head, motioning slightly with her hand. “Well… for one, you’re here. You said yourself—you weren’t supposed to be. Second, Luna now knows a lot more than she did in the show already. Right?”

Ghost slowly nodded.

Bonnie’s tone turned dry. “Was I in the show?”

He shook his head. “No. Not even a mention.”

Bonnie shrugged. “Then yeah. The timeline was broken the moment you showed up. Even more so when I landed here.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Luna looked at Ghost and asked, voice carefully neutral, “In this show… when I was freed from Nightmare… where was I? Still in this forest?”

Ghost shook his head. “No. You were freed where Nightmare was defeated—in the ruins of the old castle. You met the Element Bearers there. Then your sister came to get you. Took you back to Canterlot. That’s the capital. If you didn’t know.”

Luna slowly nodded, expression tightening.

“Well… seeing as I’m here in a forest, sitting beside a former soldier from another world and a pirate fox girl also from another world,” she muttered, “I think it’s safe to say the timeline is already very broken.”

Ghost sighed. “You’re right. It is.”

He looked down at the fire for a long moment, then slowly looked back at them.

“I’ll tell you what happens. I will. But not all at once. It’s a lot. And I mean… a lot. We handle it one piece at a time.”

Bonnie chuckled under her breath. “Fair.”

Ghost nodded, then gestured loosely with a hoof. “Most of the stuff, at first, revolves around the Element Bearers. But after that? Bigger threats come in. Nightmare was just the first big bad. The next… is Discord.”

Luna’s eyes widened in horror. “Discord? He escapes?!”

Ghost nodded.

“Oh no…” Luna groaned.

Ghost leaned back slightly. “Honestly? Discord’s not that bad.”

Luna stared at him like he had just grown a second head.

He raised a hoof. “I mean it. He causes chaos, yeah, but he gets defeated by the new Element Bearers. And later on… he switches sides. Joins Equestria.”

Luna blinked once. Then twice.

“…Discord joins us?”

Ghost nodded.

Luna just sighed, dazed. “Well… for how powerful he is… it would be nice to have him on our side.”

Bonnie, clearly confused, raised a paw. “Uh… who is Discord?”

Luna turned her head toward Bonnie and explained softly, “Discord is… a being of chaos. Unimaginably powerful. He bends reality at will. Magic that warps the very laws of the world. And he’s… unpredictable. Dangerous. And, apparently, a future ally.”

“Eventually,” Ghost said.

Luna blinked, still trying to wrap her head around that.

Bonnie shook her head. “Wow. And here I thought pirates were wild.”

But then Luna looked back at Ghost again. “You said worse things happen after Discord?”

Ghost nodded, his tone darkening. “Yeah. Much worse.”

“Like what?”

Ghost exhaled. “Changeling invasion. Canterlot gets overrun. Then, years later, the Storm King’s army attacks Canterlot again. Full siege.”

Luna’s eyes went wide. “What?! The changelings are still around?! And—who the fuck is the Storm King?!”

Ghost snorted. “Don’t worry, you’ll find out.”

Luna scowled. “We need to get the Royal Guard ready. Train them. Equip them. Prepare—”

Ghost held up a hoof, smirking. “About that…”

Luna paused. “What?”

Ghost’s voice dropped, drier than dust. “In the show… the Royal Guard? They suck. Like, really bad. Can’t win a single fight. Absolutely useless.”

Luna stared. “That can’t be right.”

“I’m serious,” Ghost said. “They get overwhelmed every single time. Changeling invasion? Overrun. Storm King? Same thing. They’re basically ceremonial.”

Luna looked genuinely disturbed. “But… before my banishment, the Royal Guard were elite. We had specialized units. We had special forces. What happened?!”

Ghost gave her a long look. “Peace happened. Your sister, after banishing you, worked to make Equestria peaceful. For 1000 years, it’s been calm. No war. No real threats. So the Guard got soft. They don’t need to fight anymore. They became glorified police.”

Luna just stared.

“And,” Ghost added, “your sister kind of let ponies think she was a god. Not figuratively. I mean literally. They worship her. Blindly.”

There was a long silence.

Then Luna asked, carefully, “What about… my Night Guard?”

Ghost frowned. “Well… after you were banished, the Night Guard were seen as traitors. Disbanded. Banished, probably. I don’t think they even exist anymore. And bat ponies? Most ponies today probably don’t even know what they are.”

Luna froze.

And then, slowly, she brought a hoof to her face.

“…Damn it, Celestia,” she muttered.

Ghost blinked.

Bonnie blinked.

And then Luna’s voice rose—her composure finally cracking as her hoof slapped down against her forehead.

“Damn it, Celestia, what the fuck?!”

The profanity dropped like a brick into the clearing.

Both Ghost and Bonnie stared, stunned.

Then, slowly, Ghost smirked. And Bonnie broke into a grin.

They both watched as Luna sat there, facehoofing again and again, cursing under her breath—muttering a long string of ancient royal swears in a voice filled with disbelief, frustration, and the kind of deep sisterly betrayal only one alicorn could truly feel.

And for once… Ghost just sat back and let her vent.

Luna sat hunched forward, her injured back aching beneath the weight of stress and disbelief, her hooves cradling her forehead as she mumbled quietly to herself. She had been face-hoofing so hard and so often, Ghost had started to wonder if she was going to give herself a concussion. Her sighs were sharp, full of tired breath, and occasionally spiked with muttered curses—each one aimed squarely at her sister, and the state of Equestria she’d clearly lost control over in her thousand-year absence.

Across the fire, Ghost watched her silently for a moment, his brow lifted ever so slightly, his eyes flicking with that quiet deadpan humor of someone who’s seen one too many military officers snap under pressure but still try to look like they’re in control. After a moment, he tilted his head, and without even trying to hide the smirk in his voice, he spoke.

“So… how funny is it to watch you hit yourself over and over again?”

Luna froze mid-facehoof, her hoof still plastered to her forehead, then let out the slowest, most exhausted sigh imaginable.

“You do realize you're still injured, right?” Ghost added.

She dropped her hoof at last, wincing slightly at the pull on her bandaged back, then slumped against the ground with the look of a mare who had aged another decade in the past ten minutes. She turned her head slightly, just enough to peer at Ghost through half-lidded eyes.

“…Can this get worse?” she asked, with the kind of drained sarcasm that didn’t really want an answer.

Ghost paused.

Then hummed thoughtfully.

Luna’s eyes narrowed with immediate dread. “Don’t.”

Bonnie, still half-covered with her coat like a blanket and propped up comfortably, giggled softly, clearly enjoying Luna’s rising frustration. Ghost, meanwhile, smirked just a bit and shrugged, the motion casual, but that glint of dry amusement never quite left his face.

“Well,” he said, drawing out the word just long enough to be suspicious, “now that I think about it…”

Luna groaned softly and closed her eyes.

“But yeah,” Ghost continued, a little more serious now, “there’s more.”

He leaned forward, voice calm and measured.

“The Element Bearers? Good people. No question. But… they do some dumb stuff. And honestly? You and your sister are partially to blame for that.”

Luna blinked, lifting her head again. “What?”

Bonnie raised a brow, intrigued.

Ghost kept going, eyes focused. “You and Celestia put blind trust in them. I mean it. Blind. You send them out on missions they’re not trained for. You expect them to solve problems that would require real experience—tactical, diplomatic, or even combat training. They don’t have any of that. They’re just… regular civilians.”

Luna frowned, looking visibly confused. “What sort of missions?”

“Well,” Ghost said, “first example I remember? There was a dragon. Big one. Sleeping in a cave near their town. Dangerous as hell. Could’ve destroyed everything if it got pissed. And Celestia? She sends them—just them—to talk to it. Not a single guard. No backup. Just six untrained mares who had never dealt with a creature like that in their lives.”

Bonnie made a sharp face. “Yeah, sorry Luna, but… that’s really dumb.”

Luna nodded slowly, her face darkening. “Indeed. I… I can’t believe we did that.”

Ghost shrugged. “You and your sister saw them as heroes. I get that. They freed you. You felt close to them. You saw them as symbols of harmony. Friends. But… it felt less like faith and more like blind hope. And yeah, they pulled off miracles, but there were times where it looked less like trust and more like negligence.”

Luna looked down, ears drooping slightly. She didn’t argue.

Ghost leaned back again, more thoughtful now. “And it wasn’t just that. A few of them… they got cocky. Let the title go to their heads. Not all the time, and not all of them—but it showed. Some of them thought being Element Bearers gave them power—like they could give orders, expect special treatment. Even act above reproach.”

Bonnie tilted her head. “What, like royalty?”

“Not quite,” Ghost said. “But more like—if they walked into the castle and didn’t get let in right away, they’d pull the ‘Do you know who I am?’ line. And it worked. Guards just stepped aside. They never claimed they were part of the military or anything, but the way everyone treated them… it sure looked like they had authority.”

He turned to Luna. “Just to be clear—they’re not considered part of your guard, right?”

Luna shook her head, her voice quiet. “No. The Element Bearers are important… but they’re not military. They’ve never been trained or sworn into any command structure. They're not soldiers.”

Ghost nodded. “Yeah. Figured. But they sure acted like it sometimes. And the guards? They let them. Whether it was fear, respect, or just habit… they gave them a lot of leeway. Too much.”

Luna’s expression hardened slightly, and she gave a slow, sharp nod. “That needs to change. If the Element Bearers are to act on behalf of the crown, they need to understand the responsibility. Not just the title.”

Ghost smiled faintly. “Good. Like I said—they’re not bad. They’re good-hearted. Brave. But they need discipline. And some humility. And they need to stop thinking being an Element means they’re untouchable.”

Luna nodded again, the gears clearly turning in her mind.

“I’ll make sure of it,” she said, quieter now. “And Ghost… a lot of what you’ve said tonight, I… I’m not happy about. But I’m grateful for it. You’re telling me what I need to hear. Not what I want to.”

Ghost simply nodded.

That kind of truth? It was the kind he understood best. And it felt damn good to finally say it out loud.

Bonnie leaned back, arms crossed, watching them both.

“Y’know,” she said with a grin, “I’m starting to think maybe Equestria needed someone like you a long time ago.”

Ghost glanced at her, then gave the barest of smirks.

“Better late than never.”

Nothing had happened for hours now.

After Ghost had finished telling us all the things he knew—things from his world, from his show—he said that was enough for one day. I had agreed. So had Bonnie. There was only so much a pony could take before her mind simply stopped trying to process it all, and by the end of it, I could feel the exhaustion sitting on my chest like a stone. We hadn’t spoken since sunset. Ghost had quietly put out the fire down to coals, just enough heat left to keep the chill off us, and now the world had settled into silence, broken only by the soft crackle of embers and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures.

I looked up at the sky.

Midnight.

The stars were bright, untouched by city lights, framed by the jagged canopy of the Everfree’s trees, which stretched high above us like a watchful web. The moon glowed almost full—my moon. Still there, still mine, even after everything. I could feel its gentle tug, like a familiar old friend whispering to me from far away. But it didn’t bring comfort tonight.

My back still throbbed. The pain wasn’t as sharp now as it had been during the attack, but the ache was deep and constant, woven through the muscles and every movement. Ghost’s makeshift bandages held tight, but no spell, no wrapping, no salve could erase the way my skin felt bruised all the way down to the bone. If I could sleep through it, I would have. But every time I shifted, even a little, a fresh lance of pain woke me again.

So I stayed still. Lying there. Watching.

Bonnie was asleep nearby, curled under her coat, which she used like a blanket. I could see the tips of her ears poking out, twitching faintly in response to sounds only she could hear. She flinched every so often—small, involuntary jerks, subtle movements of her shoulder or leg. Her injuries were still fresh, and I knew that no matter how brave she tried to act during the day, the pain didn’t magically go away when the world went quiet.

I exhaled quietly.

She’d changed a lot since the attack.

Bonnie had trusted Ghost before, but now? Now it was something else entirely. She had declared him her captain. That wasn’t just a casual title. She was a pirate—someone used to choosing her own path, deciding who to follow and why. Calling someone captain meant loyalty. For life. And she’d given that to him.

And maybe it wasn’t just loyalty. She didn’t seem to realize it herself, not yet, but… the way she looked at him. The way she let herself be vulnerable in front of him without hesitation. How she trusted him with her life, her body, her pride. I’d seen her shrug off modesty without a second thought—not just because she was in pain, but because she knew he wouldn’t see her like that. Because she believed in him. Not as a soldier, but as a person.

She trusted me, too. I knew that. She let me see her without clothes, she answered me without flinching, and she laughed with me even after the blood dried. But I could feel it. Subtle as it was—she trusted Ghost more.

I didn’t resent her for that. Honestly, I didn’t blame her at all. He had saved her. He had thrown himself between her and death without hesitation, and even in the middle of treating her wounds, never once did he falter. Never once did he abuse her trust. I saw it with my own eyes. He didn’t just keep her alive—he preserved her dignity.

And me?

I didn’t say it aloud earlier, but I’ll admit it now—even in the quiet of my own thoughts.

I trust him more than anyone.

More than the guards. More than the ponies back in Canterlot.

More than my sister.

And that says more than I ever thought I’d allow myself to admit. Not because I hate her. Not because I think she’s evil. But because… after what Ghost told me today? I don’t know what she’s been doing. I don’t know how far Equestria has drifted from what it once was. What happened to the Night Guard? Why did she let ponies believe she was a goddess? Why did she strip the guards of their strength?

Why did she let things fall so far?

I don’t know what I’ll find when I return to Canterlot.

But first… we need to get out of this forest.

I turned my head slowly, ignoring the dull throb in my spine, and looked across the camp.

There he was.

Ghost.

Sitting by the edge of the dying fire, facing outward, eyes watching the trees. The same way he had the night before. The same quiet vigilance. His posture didn’t change, didn’t relax. He wasn’t sleeping. Not even trying. His gear was still on, his helmet nearby, and his ears twitched faintly at every movement in the woods.

This was his second full night without rest. Watching over us. Guarding. Ready.

No pony—not even the best of my old guard—could stay that sharp for this long. But he didn’t complain. He didn’t even mention it. He just accepted the role without question.

We needed to make him rest. Tomorrow, when Bonnie and I could move a bit more, we’d make him lay down, even if we had to sit on his back to keep him there.

Still… watching him like that, alone in the dark, reminded me of something from long ago. Back before the Nightmare. Back when my sister and I still walked Equestria side by side. There was something noble about ponies who chose to protect others. Even when it cost them rest. Even when they didn’t have to.

Ghost didn’t have to protect us. But he did. Just like that.

Maybe it was military instinct. Maybe it was something else.

Whatever it was… I trusted it.

I trusted him.

With that final thought, I let my eyes close slowly. I wouldn’t sleep well—not with the pain in my back, not with the heaviness in my chest—but I could at least rest, knowing someone was watching.

And for the first time in a long time… I didn’t feel afraid.

I woke slowly, blinking up at the canopy above me. The sunlight was bleeding in through the leaves, casting wide patches of gold and green across the moss and dirt around our camp, soft and quiet, the kind of light that only shows up after the sun’s already halfway through the sky. If I had to guess, I’d say it was around two in the afternoon—maybe a little later. Not the most tactical way to wake up, but after two nights of no sleep and keeping watch over a pair of wounded allies, I figured I’d earned the right to not snap awake like I was still in a war zone.

I stretched slowly, letting my limbs extend out and feeling the stiffness pull across my back and shoulders. Every joint protested the movement. Staying up that long without sleep wasn’t something you did for fun. But I’d done it before. Too many times, honestly. Once the adrenaline faded, the weight settled in. My body wasn’t broken, but it wasn’t exactly happy either.

I sat up, rubbed the side of my neck, and scanned the camp with slow, trained eyes.

Nothing had changed.

Same patch of forest. Same trees. Same soft trickle of the nearby river. The fire pit was cold now, long since burned down to ash, and the gentle breeze carried no scent of blood or rot or predators. Just trees and old leaves.

Luna and Bonnie were still in the same places I’d left them when I finally laid down this morning. Bonnie was half-curled beneath her coat, her head propped against her makeshift pillow, tail flicking faintly as she dozed in and out. Luna, lying on her stomach, wings limp at her sides, had barely moved either—still resting from the damage those timberwolves had left across her back. The fact that neither of them had moved much wasn’t a surprise. Not with injuries like that.

It had been three days since the attack, and both of them were still healing slowly. Their spirits were fine, if not a little roughed up. But their bodies were still in that fragile place where moving too fast would mean reopening wounds, and infection was always a risk. I’d already cleaned and checked their bandages earlier today, same as the last two days. Routine. Efficient. Keep the wounds clean, dry, and wrapped. That’s all I could do out here.

When I’d finished, they told me to sleep.

They didn’t ask.

They told me.

Apparently, two full days of standing watch without rest was their limit for how long they’d let me play tough guy. And fine—I didn’t argue. Not because I couldn’t handle more. I could. But because I could tell they weren’t going to let it go. And honestly? They deserved to feel like they were doing something for the group.

So I slept.

Now I was awake again.

And they were both staring at me.

I blinked once, registering the two sets of eyes—one tired, the other amused.

“Well,” I said, voice a little rough from sleep, “thanks for keeping watch.”

Bonnie waved lazily with one hand, resting her head against the side of her coat like it was the softest pillow in the world. “All good,” she said with a half-smile. “You’ve done way more for us. We’re alive because of you, remember?”

I gave a small nod. “Yeah… and yesterday was fun.”

Luna scoffed, her voice sharp with sarcasm. “Oh yes. So fun. Finding out our lives are part of some show you watched. And all the chaos you dropped on me like a bag of bricks? Absolute delight.”

Bonnie chuckled, still smiling. “No kidding. That’s a lot to take in. Good thing I don’t have to worry about any of that mess… right, Ghost?”

The way she looked at me—cheeky, playful, like she was just poking fun—I could tell she didn’t really expect anything from it.

So, for a moment, I said nothing.

I just raised an eyebrow, turned my gaze slightly to the side, and started cleaning some leftover debris off my foreleg. Very pointedly.

The silence stretched.

Bonnie’s smile twitched.

Luna noticed first. I saw her glance sideways at Bonnie, her eyes lighting up with amusement as she realized what was happening.

Bonnie’s smile started to falter. “Right, Ghost?” she repeated, slower this time.

I finally looked at her.

“So… funny story,” I said, my tone way too casual, “now that you bring it up—”

Bonnie groaned, dropping her head back and dragging both hands down her face. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Really?”

Luna giggled softly, and it was the first time I’d heard her laugh like that since the attack. Not forced. Not bitter. Just amused.

She looked at Bonnie with a sly smile, wings twitching faintly behind her. “Well… at least you get to suffer with me.”

Bonnie gave her a deadpan look that could have cut stone. “Oh joy. Just what I needed.”

She mumbled something under her breath—probably cursing whatever gods were listening—and then glared at me like this was somehow my fault for answering her question honestly.

I just smirked, resting back against the tree behind me, letting the weight of my own words hang in the air for a moment.

“Well,” I said casually, “you asked.”

Bonnie was glaring again.

Not the dangerous kind of glare. Not the fox-about-to-bite kind. More like the annoyed sibling who knew she walked into something and didn’t want to admit it was her own fault. Her golden eyes narrowed, teeth clenched just slightly, and she let out a deep, dramatic sigh like she was already regretting the words that were about to come out of her mouth.

“You’re right,” she said with a dry huff, “I asked. Even though it was supposed to be a joke.”

She leaned back slightly on one arm, resting more weight into her good side, and gave me a look that said Well? Come on then.

“So… how much do you know?” she asked, more serious now. “You seem to know Luna better than she does. So what, you know me better than me? You know all my secrets or something?”

I raised a brow, calm as ever, then gave a small shrug.

“Well… not really.”

Bonnie blinked. “What?”

“You’re not from a show,” I explained, sitting back a little and folding my forelegs across my chest. “Unlike Luna, you’re from a video game.”

There was a pause.

Bonnie tilted her head. “A what?”

I blinked once, then nodded. “Right. You wouldn’t know.”

I leaned forward a little, letting my voice ease into the usual professional rhythm I used when explaining tech to civilians during deployments—simple, straight to the point, but with enough care to not sound condescending.

“A video game is… sort of like a TV show, but interactive. It’s entertainment, just like a show or a play, but instead of just watching, the person holding the controller makes the choices. They move the character. They fight, solve puzzles, explore worlds. Think of it like you’re reading a book, but instead of turning the page, you’re the one steering the story.”

Bonnie’s ears twitched, her brow rising slowly as she tried to picture that. She didn’t speak—just nodded a little, processing.

“The game you’re from,” I continued, “is called Pirate101.”

Bonnie blinked again. “That’s… specific.”

“Yeah,” I said with a faint smile. “I played it. A while back. I never finished it. Lost interest. Moved on to other games. So yeah—I know who you are. I remember some of your look. A bit of your attitude. But honestly? That’s about it. I never really followed the full storyline. Just played for fun.”

Bonnie’s expression shifted—surprise, disbelief, then something else entirely.

“So…” she said slowly, “my world was boring to you? You didn’t care about it? Just played around and moved on?”

I shrugged again, nodding once. “Pretty much. It was fun. Just not something I got invested in.”

For a second, she just stared at me, blinking.

Then her face cracked into the biggest grin I’d seen from her since we met.

And she burst out laughing.

Loud, unfiltered, genuine laughter. Her head tilted back, one arm wrapping around her ribs as she winced through the motion, but she couldn’t stop. She wheezed a little, tail twitching with every breath, and her voice came out choppy between laughs.

“I… I don’t know,” she gasped. “If I should be relieved that you don’t know every little thing about me… or insulted that you thought I was that boring!”

She laughed harder, wiping at her eyes, and the sound of it filled the clearing in the most unexpected, most welcome way. The tension that had been trailing all of us since the attack, since the timberwolves, since all the truths I’d dumped on Luna the day before—it cracked. Just a little. But it cracked.

I couldn’t help the small smirk that pulled at the edge of my mouth.

Luna, meanwhile, let out an exaggerated huff from where she lay. She turned her head away dramatically, ears flattened as she mumbled under her breath.

“Not fair…”

Bonnie finally managed to calm herself down enough to smirk sideways at her, brushing her bangs out of her eyes with a smug little flick of her hand.

“Sorry, Luna,” she teased. “Looks like I don’t have to suffer with you after all.”

Luna pouted, eyes narrowing.

“This is injustice,” she grumbled. “Blatant favoritism by the multiverse.”

Bonnie grinned wider.

Luna huffed louder.

I just leaned back against the tree trunk behind me, folding my forelegs again and watching the two of them bicker like old friends.

Honestly? It felt nice.

After everything—blood, wounds, pain, secrets, revelations—it was good to see them laugh. Even if Luna was pouting, even if Bonnie’s ribs still hurt when she moved too fast, this felt like progress. Not just survival.

Connection.

They were starting to feel like something more than just two strangers who got pulled into a mess. They were becoming something close to a team.

Maybe even the start of a crew.

I looked up from where I sat, catching the look on both of their faces—Bonnie wearing that smug, self-satisfied grin like she’d just pulled one over on the universe, and Luna pouting like a noble who’d just been told the dessert table was off-limits. The contrast between them made me snort softly and shake my head.

“Also,” I said dryly, “Bonnie, for the record—you weren’t the only one in the game, you know.”

She blinked, expression softening just a little. “Huh?”

I stretched my legs out in front of me, giving my joints a satisfying pop, and leaned back against the tree trunk again. “I didn’t stop playing because I thought you were boring. The game had tons of characters. You meet all kinds of people—crew members, enemies, kings, ghosts, weird little magical creatures, you name it.”

Bonnie tilted her head, brows furrowed just slightly now, curiosity piqued.

“But,” I added with a small smirk, “what’s funny is that the whole point of the game was for the player to build a crew. Travel across the Spiral. Gather allies. And you?”

I glanced at her meaningfully.

“You were the second person to join.”

Bonnie blinked. “Wait. Second?”

“Yep,” I said. “One of the earliest companions. Basically the first real crewmate. So you calling me ‘captain’ now? Pretty much lines up with the game. You followed the logic without even realizing it.”

I gave a small shrug, smiling faintly. “I never finished the game… but by the time I stopped playing, you were still there. Still on the crew. So yeah. I might’ve quit the game, but in the end, I got the real Bonnie. I call that a win.”

Bonnie stared at me for a moment, visibly surprised. Her ears twitched once, then flattened slightly—not in anger, but from a mix of emotions. She didn’t seem to know whether to smile or roll her eyes, so instead she just blinked, mouth parting like she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words yet.

Before she could, Luna beat her to it—giggling softly, the sound a warm contrast to her earlier pouting.

“Oh, that is funny,” Luna said, her voice lighter now. “I agree with Ghost. He might’ve stopped playing, but he did win. He got the real deal. Right, Bonnie?”

Bonnie finally sighed, her expression half-exasperated and half-embarrassed.

“Well,” she muttered, “you sure are lucky, huh.”

I shrugged casually, though I couldn’t stop the grin tugging at the edge of my mouth. “I guess so.”

Then I turned my gaze to Luna. “And hey—stop giggling so much. I didn’t just win once. I won twice.”

Luna blinked, brows raising slightly. “Twice?”

I nodded. “Sure. Bonnie made me her captain, sure. But I also got to meet you. Both of you. So yeah… double win.”

There was a pause.

Then Luna sighed—but smiled. Her voice was softer when she spoke. “Indeed. You are… very lucky.”

Bonnie just rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips.

“Well,” she said, looking at me again, “you’re still my captain. Doesn’t matter what some game says. So yeah—looks like you got the real me. Something I bet any player on your world would’ve lost their mind over.”

I nodded. “Oh yeah. No doubt.”

I leaned back a little more, glancing up through the trees at the sunlight breaking through the leaves.

Then, almost absently, I hummed and said, “You know, Bonnie… you are different from your in-game version.”

Bonnie glanced sideways at me. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” I said. “First, the way you talk. In the game, it was all old-school pirate stuff. ‘Aye, Cap’n,’ ‘Scallywag,’ all that. Thick pirate accent, like it came out of a cartoon.”

Bonnie made a face. “Yeesh. Really?”

“Yep. But you? You just talk like you. It’s… more natural. More real. Honestly? Better.”

She smirked. “Good. I never liked all that fancy pirate talk anyway. Always felt like I was trying too hard.”

I chuckled softly. “You weren’t missing much. The second difference? In the game, there were humans. Your world—the Spiral—had all sorts of races. But humans were a big part of it.”

Bonnie frowned, tilting her head. “Really? Humans?”

“Yep,” I said. “In fact… your boss, the guy who runs Skull Island—Captain Avery? He was a human.”

Bonnie’s eyes widened slightly, then she shook her head. “Nope. Not in my world. Captain Avery’s a fox. Same as me. Kinda short. Red fur. Big ego. Drinks way too much.”

I nodded, unsurprised. “Yep. That’s the difference, then. Your world and the game version? Not the same.”

Bonnie hummed softly, leaning back again and folding her arms over her chest. “Seems like it.”

For a moment, the three of us sat in silence again—just the sound of the wind through the trees and the rustling of leaves above.

Luna glanced between the two of us, her expression softer now. “You know… I’m almost starting to enjoy this chaos.”

Bonnie snorted. “Almost?”

Luna smiled. “Let me have some dignity, please.”

I just leaned my head back against the tree and closed my eyes for a second.

This world? As messed up as it was?

It was starting to feel like home.

I looked up again, catching Luna still pouting and Bonnie still smirking, and I couldn’t help but let a grin slip across my face.

“You’re starting to enjoy our chaos, huh?” I said to Luna. “I swear, if Celestia ever hears that, she’s gonna have a heart attack. Hell, even Discord might drop from shock.”

Luna blinked, caught off guard, then snorted before a sigh escaped her. But she smiled. “You know… it’s kind of funny. I can see it now. Both my sister and Discord wearing the same horrified expression. Side by side. Frozen in disbelief.”

She gave a half-shake of her head and looked toward me again. “Still hard to believe he joins us later. But I suppose it will be… interesting.”

I nodded but didn’t add anything else right away. I let the silence linger for just a second more. Then, without even fully meaning to, I found myself watching them.

Both of them.

Bonnie and Luna.

Still resting in the exact spots they’d been in since I went to sleep earlier that morning. They hadn’t moved much—not surprising considering how torn up their bodies still were. But as I watched them now, eyes trailing over their frames, a slow thought began to creep in.

They hadn’t cleaned themselves up since the timberwolf attack.

Three days.

Sure, I’d kept their wounds clean—used river water, cleaned out the worst of the bleeding, kept the bandages fresh—but the rest of their bodies? Never touched. Covered in dirt, dried blood, sweat, and forest grime. Their fur and skin were matted, and, to be blunt… they were starting to smell. Not horrible, but enough that it made me realize how long it had been since either of them had even seen clean water outside of when I was pouring it over their injuries.

They didn’t notice me looking at first. But the longer I watched, the more I scanned them up and down, the more Luna’s eyes narrowed, a curious flicker rising on her face.

“You’re staring at us,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “But not like that. You’re not… looking at us. Not in that way. So what’s going on in that soldier brain of yours, Ghost?”

Bonnie glanced over from her spot, ears flicking slightly as she raised an eyebrow.

I nodded slowly. “I was just thinking… if it’s safe for either of you to wash up in the river.”

Both of them blinked.

Luna frowned. “Wash up?”

I nodded again. “Yeah. It’s been three days since the attack. Your wounds are the only parts of your bodies that are remotely clean—because I’ve been tending them. But the rest of you?” I shrugged, gesturing vaguely with one hoof. “You're filthy. Covered in sweat, mud, and blood. And—no offense—you’re starting to smell.”

There was a pause. Then they both glanced down at themselves.

Really looked.

Luna slowly lifted one foreleg and sniffed her own coat. Her face scrunched instantly in disgust.

Bonnie followed suit, lifting her arm and sniffing near her side. “Ugh.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Exactly.”

“But…” Luna said, frowning again, “even if we wanted to get clean, our wounds are still fresh. They hurt too much to move, and if we soak the cuts, it might be unbearable. And honestly, I have no idea if water will make them worse.”

Bonnie nodded, her expression tightening. “Yeah. Laying in the river sounds nice, but I’d probably pass out from the pain before I got clean.”

I nodded slowly. “Right. That’s what I figured. But…”

I looked over at Luna again.

“You might be able to manage it,” I said. “Your injuries are all on your back, right? If you laid on your stomach in the water, you’d keep them mostly dry. You wouldn’t be able to move, but… I could wash you.”

Luna’s eyes widened slightly. She didn’t say anything right away. Just looked… surprised.

Then thoughtful.

And then—genuinely intrigued.

I turned to Bonnie. “You’d be harder. If it were just your shoulder and chest, I could wash you. But your leg wound’s high—near your hip. That changes things.”

Bonnie frowned, clearly disappointed. But after a second, she said, “If I lay on my right side, it might work. My shoulder and leg wounds are both on the left, right? So if I keep my left side out of the water, I could manage. It’d hurt like hell… but I could do it.”

I gave a slow, measured nod. “You could. But it’ll be painful. And you won’t be able to move much. I’d have to do most of the work.”

Bonnie’s expression hardened. “I need to be clean. If I stay like this, infection’s gonna be ten times more likely.”

Luna nodded beside her. “Agreed. We can’t stay like this, Ghost. We have to clean ourselves up.”

I sighed. “Alright. But before we start… how much cleaning are we talking here?”

They both blinked.

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, don’t give me that look. I’m saying, do you want just your arms, legs, chest—non-sensitive areas cleaned? Or do you want a full-body cleaning?”

Their eyes widened slightly as they finally caught on.

“I need to say this now,” I said firmly. “If I’m cleaning everything—and I mean everything—then that includes your private areas. Not in a perverted way. But I’m not going to accidentally brush against something and have one of you freak out on me. If we’re doing this, I need to know up front what you’re both comfortable with.”

Luna sighed heavily and muttered, “That sucks. But… let’s be honest. Our most uncomfortable areas are probably the dirtiest.”

She looked me straight in the eyes, firm and unwavering.

“I want a full-body cleaning,” she said. “And yes—it’s awkward as hell. But I trust you, Ghost. More than I’ve trusted anyone. I wouldn’t even let my own sister do this. But you? After everything we’ve been through… I trust you more than anyone else.”

Bonnie nodded beside her, eyes serious. “Same. I wouldn’t let anyone else touch me like that. But you? You’ve proven yourself. I trust you too, Ghost. And yeah—it’s awkward. But I’m not gonna risk infection just because I’m shy.”

Their words hit me harder than I expected.

All that trust.

That weight.

I looked down for a second, quietly exhaling.

“…Didn’t think I’d ever have real friends again,” I muttered without thinking.

They both heard it.

And I felt the silence that followed—soft, but heavy.

Then Luna spoke, her voice low, but warm. “Ghost… we’ll always be here for you.”

Bonnie nodded. “We’re way past just being friends at this point. We’re not lovers—but what we’ve got?” She smiled faintly. “It’s more than friendship.”

I looked up at them again, caught between disbelief and something that almost hurt.

It was too much. And yet, it wasn’t enough.

Bonnie suddenly smirked, breaking the heavy moment with a sharp glint in her eye. “Also… Luna’s naked. I’ve already been naked in front of you. And let’s not forget—you had to touch the top of my boobs to clean my chest wound. What’s a little more touching, hmm?”

I snorted.

Couldn’t help it.

A quiet laugh escaped me, and both of them broke too—Luna giggling into her hoof, Bonnie chuckling low, ears flicking.

In that moment, as absurd as it all was, I couldn’t stop the thought from rising again:

I really do have a new family.

And I’d protect them with everything I had.

Chapter Text

“Alright,” I said, standing up slowly and stretching my legs, the stiffness of sleep still clinging to my muscles. I rolled my shoulders, casting a quick glance at the river just beside us, then back to the two mares still lying in the grass. “So. Who wants to go first?”

Neither of them jumped to volunteer. Not that I blamed them. With the kind of pain they were still in, even moving was a struggle. The idea of dragging themselves into the water just to get scrubbed down probably felt like a punishment more than a favor.

Still, the silence hung there awkwardly for a moment—until Luna let out a long, tired sigh.

“I’ll go,” she mumbled, her voice low, resigned.

I gave a nod, stepping back to give her space.

What followed was… not graceful. She didn’t stand. Didn’t even sit up. She dragged herself in the most awkward, uncomfortable-looking shuffle I’d ever seen, pulling her hooves and legs beneath her with just enough strength to slide forward, gritting her teeth with every inch of movement. The pain was all over her face. She never screamed, never cried out—but I could see the effort it took in the way her jaw clenched, her eyes stayed half-lidded, her nostrils flared as she forced herself forward.

She made it to the river after about a minute of dragging and eased herself down slowly, carefully, belly-first into the shallow water. The stream wasn’t deep here—just enough to let her lie down and get her front submerged. Her wings stayed flat at her sides, the water lapping just under them.

I stepped into the river after her, the water cool but not freezing, and sat next to her at her right side. Her mane floated slightly around her face, half-wet, clinging to her neck like soft ink in the current.

“You ready?” I asked quietly.

Luna didn’t speak at first. She shut her eyes, her chest rising and falling in long, slow breaths as the cold water and her damaged muscles waged war inside her nerves.

“…Give me a moment,” she whispered.

I nodded, saying nothing else. Just waited.

Five minutes passed like that—quiet, still. I let the water flow around my legs, watching her face, watching her body slowly begin to relax. Not completely. But just enough.

Finally, she exhaled sharply and opened her eyes. “Okay. Most of the pain has passed. You can start.”

So I did.

I began at the top—her face, her ears, the edges of her mane. I cupped the water in my hooves, gently working out the grime and dried sweat that had collected around her temples, under her jaw, along the base of her horn. I didn’t rush. I didn’t scrub hard. Just slow, careful movements. Wipe, rinse, repeat. Let the water take what it could, then carry it away.

Next came her neck, then her chest. Her coat was slick with oil and dried blood, but it came off bit by bit. I used smooth, circular motions with my hooves, working the water into the mess, breaking it up gently. Her front legs were next, one at a time, slowly down to the knees. Her breathing remained steady, but her ears twitched every so often—reflexes she couldn’t quite control.

When I reached her right side, I paused at her wing, glancing at her with a small nod. “I’ve got no idea how to clean these properly.”

She glanced back at me, and despite the pain still flickering in her eyes, there was a faint hint of amusement. “That’s fair.”

She slowly stretched her right wing out toward me. “I’ll walk you through it.”

And she did—step by step. Use the water to smooth the feathers, not scrub. Work from the base outward. Use flat pressure, never dig between them. She told me which spots were sensitive and which were tolerable. I listened carefully, working through the ten-minute process like I was defusing a bomb.

When that wing was clean, I moved back to her side, finishing her ribs, her flank, then slowly working around to the other side. The process repeated—left wing, left side, back legs, haunches. Every inch cleaned, every motion done with calm precision.

Until I was standing behind her.

Still in the river. Still holding the same professional calm.

But I froze.

She hadn’t moved. Her wings were relaxed. Her breathing steady. But I just stood there, staring at the space between her hind legs, knowing what I had to do next.

And for the first time… I hesitated.

My hooves didn’t move. My mind did. Loudly.

This wasn’t combat. This wasn’t field triage. This wasn’t a wound that needed patching under fire. This was intimate. Deliberate. The kind of thing most ponies only experienced in private—or with lovers.

And yet… it had to be done.

Still, I was standing there like an idiot.

Luna noticed.

She turned her head slightly, blinking at me through a half-lidded eye, and after a beat of silence, she snorted.

“Well,” she said dryly, “looks like the mighty soldier finally hit his limit. Not in battle. Not while bandaging bleeding wounds. But here. Standing behind a mare in a river, staring at her ass.”

Somewhere behind us, Bonnie giggled softly.

I rolled my eyes. “Look. Combat? Patch jobs? That’s all reflex. Training. This? This is… new territory. I’m not a nurse. Not a medic. I’ve never bathed someone else. And I definitely don’t go touching mares’ privates.”

Luna giggled—actually giggled—and I could hear the mix of sympathy and amusement in her tone.

“Well, this is new for both of us,” she said gently. “But you’re the only one I trust to do it.”

Then, after a beat, she added with a smirk, “Also, staring at my butt isn’t moving this along.”

“Right,” I muttered. And finally moved.

I started with her flanks. Gentle. Careful. I did my best to keep everything professional, deliberate, neutral.

But bodies were bodies.

And no matter how serious the context, nerves still fired. Reflexes still worked.

And when I moved closer, when I started to clean the most sensitive areas—her rear, between her legs, the areas most ponies never touched outside of mating or medicine—Luna reacted.

Her body twitched. Her tail flicked once.

And then…

A sound.

A moan.

Soft. Sharp. Sudden.

She stiffened instantly, face going crimson in less than a second.

Her breathing sped up. Her back arched faintly. She bit her lip.

But I said nothing.

Didn’t flinch. Didn’t stare. Didn’t acknowledge it.

I kept going. Faster now. Not rushed—but firm. Clean and done. That was the goal. Her reaction wasn’t her fault. Just the body doing what bodies do when nerves get activated. That was all.

By the time I finished, she was panting faintly, her face bright red, her eyes unfocused from the weight of everything. But when she looked at me again—just briefly—there was a flicker of something else.

Gratitude.

And trust.

She didn’t thank me aloud. She just nodded. Once. Subtle. But it said everything.

I helped her out of the river, careful with every movement. I dried her off gently, kept her warm, eased her down onto the softest patch of grass nearby, and let her lie back.

That’s when I looked up.

Bonnie was watching.

Her face was redder than Luna’s had ever been.

Her ears were standing straight up, twitching slightly, and her eyes kept darting between Luna and me like she’d just witnessed something private she hadn’t been ready for.

I didn’t say a word.

I just sighed.

Because now I had to do it again.

One more time, I thought, already preparing for whatever awkward hell Bonnie was about to put me through.

But at least… I wasn’t alone anymore.

I had them.

And they had me.

As I stood there in the river, letting the water roll quietly around my legs, I looked down at Luna lying on the grass now, still flushed and still catching her breath after everything we’d just done, and then looked over at Bonnie—who wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding the blazing red color overtaking her entire face—and while I didn’t say anything right away, it was painfully obvious that the sounds Luna had made during her cleaning had affected her more than she probably expected.

Bonnie tried to cover it with a weak smile, one that didn’t hide the nervous energy she was practically radiating, and after a beat, she gave Luna a sideways glance and muttered, “Well… Luna, you’re all clean now.”

Luna, still catching her breath but managing to settle down a bit, nodded slowly—though her eyes flicked toward Bonnie’s face, clearly catching the depth of her blush, and she raised an amused eyebrow. “I am… but you’re very flushed for someone who only watched.” Then she grinned, faint but sly. “I felt all of it… and you’re almost more red than I was.”

Bonnie groaned and rolled her eyes. “Oh come on. Just watched? I heard every sound you made. You were moaning up a storm over there, and you clearly enjoyed it.”

Luna huffed, looking only mildly embarrassed now. “Hey—I’m a living being just like anyone else. I can’t help it, alright? You want honesty? Fine. Yes. It felt good. I enjoyed it. My body reacted the way bodies do, and I couldn’t stop it any more than you’re going to be able to in a minute.”

Bonnie gave a sheepish smile, brushing her hand over her face as if trying to cool herself down. “Oh, I know. Trust me. I know what’s coming. I’m about to do the single most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.”

Luna chuckled knowingly. “Oh yeah. You definitely are.”

I cleared my throat.

Loud enough to remind them both I still existed.

They looked at me like they’d forgotten I was standing right there.

Luna, of course, couldn’t help but pout dramatically. “How the hell are you not blushing?” she asked. “You just fully—completely—washed me. You touched every part of me. How are you this calm?”

I shrugged, keeping my tone even, though my ears flicked slightly. “I’m good at keeping that kind of thing down. Doesn’t mean I don’t feel awkward—because I do. Believe me. It’s just… I’ve got a lot of practice suppressing stuff.”

Bonnie snorted. “You sure about that? ‘Cause at the start, you kind of stood there staring at Luna’s rear like it was a tactical threat or something. Enjoy the view a little too much, maybe?”

Luna rolled her eyes but smirked. “Oh, I bet he did. Let’s be honest, he’s very lucky. He just got to feel up a princess—fully, might I add—and now he gets to do the same thing to you. Two women in one day. That’s gotta be some kind of jackpot.”

I sighed, shaking my head. “Keep trying to get a reaction out of me, and I will tell Celestia everything we just did.”

Luna’s eyes went wide. “Ghost! Are you crazy?! She’d kill all three of us!”

Bonnie actually choked laughing, and Luna, seeing her expression, added in a mutter, “She might start with me, honestly…”

I just looked at Bonnie, the humor in my eyes tempered by the next task ahead. “You’re going to be harder,” I said honestly. “And what I mean by that is… Luna was a little easier because her body shape is still all pony. You, though…” I gave a slow breath. “You’re closer to human. And I… am a little bit of a furry. So that’s not helping.”

Bonnie laughed awkwardly but nodded. “Yeah, I figured that might make it more complicated. But I’m ready. If you are. You don’t have to do it, Ghost. If it’s too weird, I get it.”

I shook my head. “No. I can handle it. Just… brace yourself. It’s going to be awkward for both of us.”

Bonnie didn’t argue.

She just took a deep breath and nodded again.

I stepped closer and carefully helped her up, supporting her gently under one arm as we both moved toward the riverbank. She hissed softly with every step, her wounded leg making the walk miserable, but she didn’t complain. I eased her down slowly into the shallows, laying her gently on her right side, keeping her wounded left shoulder and leg free from pressure. She was already wincing, sweat building on her brow from the sheer discomfort of the angle, and I could tell this wasn’t going to be quick or easy.

We waited. Just like with Luna. Long enough for the worst of the pain to settle.

Almost seven minutes passed before Bonnie let out a deep breath. “Alright. Pain’s… mostly passed. Let’s do this.”

I gave a small nod, watching as she slowly unwrapped the coat she’d been using for warmth, setting it aside on a rock to keep it dry. She was already down to her bra and pants, but even those were soiled—mud, dried blood, sweat, and forest grit clinging to every edge.

I looked at her. “Your clothes are going to have to come off, Bonnie. They’re too dirty to leave on—and I can’t clean properly around them.”

Bonnie didn’t even flinch. She just looked down at herself and nodded. “Yeah… I know. Go ahead.”

I moved carefully, stepping behind her. I reached for the back of her bra, unclipping the latch and slowly sliding the straps down her arms. The fabric was stiff with grime, but I was gentle, and as it came loose, I let it fall into the water for a moment before scooping it out and tossing it to the shoreline.

Bonnie was already red. Her arms were trembling slightly, but she didn’t stop me.

Her pants were next. Trickier, since I had to avoid the wound on her left leg, but I took my time, easing the waistband down and peeling the fabric away from her hip, making sure not to brush the bandages. Her underwear followed last, and when it was all said and done, Bonnie lay there in the water, completely exposed.

But she didn’t look away in shame.

Just flustered. Deeply. Intensely.

And brave.

“I’ll start now,” I said softly.

She nodded, biting her lip, and turned her face away.

I began with her head—ears, hair, cheeks, chin. She was silent at first, trying not to move, but her eyes flickered shut as the water touched her skin. Her shoulders tensed. Her breathing deepened.

Next came her neck, then the shoulder that wasn’t injured. I worked around the tender side with extreme care, taking extra time to avoid even brushing the wound directly. Washing her on her side was far more awkward than Luna—she was more flexible, but the angles were harder to reach without causing pain.

Her back came next. She shivered a little as I ran water over her spine, and I felt her tense under my hooves. She sighed deeply—not in discomfort, but in relief. I think the feeling of being washed, despite the awkwardness, was soothing in its own way.

When I reached her tail, I paused. “Is there a way I should wash this?”

Bonnie shook her head. “No… it’s just fluffy. Nothing special like Luna’s wings.”

I nodded and cleaned it quickly, then moved on to her legs—both of them, including her feet and toes, which made her twitch slightly, but she didn’t complain.

Her stomach was last before the truly sensitive areas—and the moment I touched it, she flinched and giggled.

“Ticklish?” I asked.

“Very,” she said between breaths, clearly trying not to squirm.

Finally… I had to ask.

“You ready?”

She didn’t look at me. Just gave a single, shaky nod.

I began washing her chest carefully, doing my best to keep my motions clinical—but there was no avoiding it: her body reacted. Her breath hitched, and the moment I passed over the more sensitive areas, she let out a soft, audible moan. She didn’t apologize. Didn’t try to hide it. Just turned her face away, clearly overwhelmed, clearly embarrassed, but not pretending.

It wasn’t loud. But it was raw.

Real.

And deeply vulnerable.

I said nothing. I didn’t let my face change. I didn’t look at her differently. I just kept going.

By the time I reached her lower body—her rear and beyond—she was trembling lightly, not from fear, but from holding in the sheer emotional intensity of the moment. She moaned again as I washed her backside, and again as I cleaned the most intimate area.

And again—I said nothing.

Not because it didn’t matter. But because it did.

She was trusting me in the deepest way possible—and no part of that deserved teasing, laughter, or judgment.

When it was done, she was flushed. Panting. Her tail limp in the water. Her expression unreadable.

Luna called out softly from her spot on the grass. “Holy hell, Bonnie… you haven’t had sex in a long time, have you?”

Bonnie exhaled hard, still not looking at either of us. “…Yeah. You’re right. I haven’t. Like… once in my life. Long time ago. So yeah… I guess I was a little… pent up.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “No kidding.”

Bonnie groaned and looked at me. “Ghost… just get me out of the river before I drown in embarrassment.”

I nodded, stepping in carefully and helping her sit up, then lift.

And as I did, I thought to myself—not with sarcasm, not with humor, but with quiet, steady conviction:

These two… are my family now.

And I’d do this a hundred more times, if it meant keeping them safe.

After I helped Bonnie out of the river and eased her gently onto the grass beside Luna—who was still lying on her stomach, wings limp and eyes half-lidded in quiet exhaustion—I stood there for a moment, just taking in the sight of the two of them next to one another, bruised and bandaged, red-faced and soaking wet, but somehow still managing to smile even through all the embarrassment and the pain, and I felt something heavy and warm settle in my chest that I couldn’t quite put into words.

I turned back to the river and waded in again, this time collecting the small pile of Bonnie’s discarded clothes—her pants, her bra, her underwear, and her coat—all of them waterlogged and crusted with blood, sweat, and river muck, and without asking or waiting for permission, I decided right then that they needed to be cleaned too.

Bonnie didn’t say anything. She watched me for a moment, but when I didn’t get any protest or even a raised eyebrow, I took that as a quiet okay.

It took me around twenty minutes to rinse and scrub everything as best I could, using flat rocks and clean river water to work out the worst of the stains. The bra and panties came clean fastest, the coat taking longer with all the thick fabric, and by the end, I had them all wrung out and laid across a flat rock to dry under the late afternoon sun before picking them up again and walking back to the girls.

Bonnie looked up as I approached, her eyes falling on the clothes in my hooves—still damp, but clean now—and her face lit up with something between surprise and genuine gratitude.

“Thank you,” she said softly, the blush finally beginning to fade from her cheeks.

I nodded and stepped beside her, kneeling down and helping her into her clothes one piece at a time. First her underwear, then her bra—she shifted awkwardly, still sore and stiff, but I moved carefully, threading her arms through the straps and easing the fabric over her chest without a word—then her pants, which I helped pull up and button, mindful of her bandages. Last came her coat, but instead of putting it on, Bonnie simply pulled it around herself like a blanket and tucked it under her arms, exhaling as the familiar fabric covered her up.

Luna, still half-drenched and lying low in the grass beside her, gave a soft sigh as she rolled a little closer to the new campfire I’d built—flames flickering steadily, the warmth beginning to crawl out from the stones and wrap around them like a gentle embrace. Bonnie turned slightly toward the heat, her eyes drooping slightly from fatigue, but the second the warmth hit her damp coat and skin, she let out the most content little sound I’d heard all day.

Luna wasn’t far behind.

They both exhaled, long and slow, shoulders dropping as their bodies finally began to relax.

“Thank you, Ghost,” Bonnie said again after a moment, this time with more weight in her voice. “Really. For everything. And also… sorry I was so loud.”

I didn’t flinch or smirk. I just gave her a small nod. “It’s all good.”

Luna shifted and gave me a tired, but sincere look. “Ghost… really. Thank you. I know what we just did… it’s not a small thing. It’s something lovers usually do. But you didn’t treat it that way. You helped us with nothing but respect, and that means more than I can explain.”

I nodded again, voice low and even. “No problem. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you two.”

And that was the truth.

Both Bonnie and Luna smiled at that. Real smiles. Not strained. Not forced. Just quiet and full of something that felt like peace.

After a moment, Luna cleared her throat and looked at me again, this time with a little more hesitation in her eyes.

“So… um… can I join the crew?” she asked.

Bonnie and I both turned to look at her.

She shifted, clearly trying not to meet our eyes, ears twitching a little with nervous energy.

“Let’s be real,” Luna said, her voice lower now, more vulnerable. “We’re already this close. Not like lovers—just… something else. Something like family, but maybe more. I don’t even know what I feel exactly, but… Ghost, I think I might have a bit of a crush on you. I’m not sure yet. But… I wanted to be honest.”

That one hit out of nowhere.

I blinked, surprised, not expecting that from her of all ponies—but before I could respond, Bonnie, already smiling faintly, nodded beside her.

“If I’m being honest,” she said softly, “I think I’ve got a crush on him too. Not sure when it started, and I’m not saying I’m in love or anything, but… I feel it.”

I stared at them both.

Then I sighed, rubbing a hoof across the back of my neck.

“I really hope not,” I said with a weak chuckle. “I’m not boyfriend or husband material. Not even close.”

They both giggled—genuine, tired, and a little flustered.

“Oh, we know,” Luna said with a smirk. “Like I said… I don’t know exactly what I feel. It’s not romance. Not yet, anyway. But it’s something. Something deep. Closer than friendship. Deeper than just teammates. More than duty. It’s… a kind of family love, I guess. Hell, it’s stronger than what I have with my own sister. And considering we’ve all bathed together now? Yeah. We’re bonded.”

Bonnie nodded. “Yeah. Feels right.”

Then Luna gave me a hopeful look. “So? Can I join?”

I was quiet for a second, then shrugged. “Sure. If you want to join the crew, you’re in. I mean… it’s not like I ever really made one. Bonnie kind of just declared it, and I went with it. But I’m not against keeping the name.”

Bonnie smiled, clearly pleased. “It fits.”

Luna nodded, looking happy now—relieved, even. “I’m fine with it. This crew thing… I like it. And you being our captain? Makes sense.”

I snorted. “Great. Look what you started, Bonnie. You’ve turned Luna into a pirate.”

Bonnie giggled, and Luna rolled her eyes—but she didn’t argue. She smiled instead, soft and real.

And just like that, I realized something strange and simple.

We weren’t just a trio surviving together anymore.

We were a crew.

A mismatched, broken, awkward, slightly scarred, completely unconventional little family.

As I sat there by the fire, arms loosely crossed over my chest, legs stretched out to soak in the residual heat flickering off the stones, I glanced over at Bonnie, who was curled up with her coat draped over her shoulders like a cape again, the collar turned up against the wind, but something felt a little off visually—like she was missing something, a part of her usual silhouette that was just… gone.

After a moment of scanning her figure and the space around her, I tilted my head slightly and asked, “Hey, Bonnie—where’s your hat?”

She blinked at me, clearly not expecting that question, then followed my gaze as I looked toward the top of her head, and after a second of mental inventory, she let out a soft, “Huh?” before lifting a hand to tap where the brim should’ve been. “Oh. Right. It’s… over there.” She pointed lazily toward a flat rock about a dozen paces away near the tree line, and sure enough, her signature feathered hat was sitting right where she’d left it, caught between two stones like it had gotten stuck mid-escape.

I blinked. “Why the hell is it over there?”

She shrugged, completely unbothered. “Wind probably caught it. It landed over there and got wedged. Wasn’t worth making a fuss over. Figured I’d get it later.”

I rolled my eyes, already standing up. “You’re seriously gonna sit here hatless like a lost pirate while your damn hat’s right over there?”

Bonnie smirked but didn’t answer. Luna watched the exchange with that familiar half-lidded expression of amusement, the kind of grin she wore when she was waiting for something dumb to happen, and I didn’t disappoint her.

I walked over, plucked the hat from its rocky trap, brushed a few leaves off the brim, then strolled back with it casually in one hoof. Bonnie raised her head as I approached, probably expecting me to hand it back with some polite little gesture.

Instead, I stepped behind her and plopped it right down on her head—hard enough to cover her eyes completely.

“Hey!” she yelped, jerking slightly as the brim dropped like a curtain across her vision. “Ghost, I swear—!” she started to grumble, but Luna had already lost it, stifling giggles behind one hoof, her shoulders shaking from the effort of holding it in.

I grinned, completely unrepentant, and turned to sit back down on the far side of the fire like I hadn’t just temporarily blinded a fox.

Bonnie let out a frustrated huff, then shoved the hat up with both hands so she could see again, her eyes narrowing into that theatrical glare she always did when pretending to be mad. “Rude,” she muttered, not even bothering to sound serious about it, and when I didn’t respond, she huffed again, mumbled something under her breath that sounded like “I swear, one of these days…” and settled back into her seat.

The fire popped quietly between us, smoke curling lazily into the canopy above, and for a while, the silence was peaceful.

And then—two weeks passed.

Just like that.

Two full weeks had slipped by since the day I helped wash them in the river, since that awkward, vulnerable, deeply bonding moment we’d all shared—the kind of moment that didn’t just create trust but cemented it—and as much as I hadn’t realized how long it had been until I started counting the days, the change in both of them was almost hard to believe when I stopped and really looked.

Luna, who had been bedridden with claw wounds ripped down her back just fourteen days ago, could now stand and walk again with almost no trouble. The bandages that once wrapped half her body had been stripped away bit by bit as her wounds closed and the pain dulled, and though she still winced every now and then when moving too quickly or stretching too far, it was clear she was almost fully healed. She’d still have scars—long ones, ugly ones—but thanks to her coat, they’d be hard to see. Not that it mattered. She didn’t seem to care about hiding them anymore.

Bonnie had made similar progress. Her chest wound, the shallowest of the three, had healed the fastest and was already just a pink line under the fur now. Her leg, which had taken a deeper hit near the hip, was better too—no longer wrapped, no longer bleeding, just sore when she put too much weight on it. The bite on her shoulder had taken longer, but even that was almost fully closed now, with the last of the bandages probably coming off in the next couple days. Like Luna, she’d have scars too—but fur was forgiving, and frankly, I don’t think either of them would let that bother them for long.

The best part?

They didn’t need me anymore.

Not for washing, not for walking, not for dressing. After that first bath—hell, that event—neither of them had wanted to repeat the experience for a few days. The pain had made even the thought of another cleaning unbearable. They both went five days without bathing, choosing instead to stew in their discomfort until the smell practically forced a decision, and when they realized they still couldn’t do it themselves, I had to step in and do it again.

Thankfully, that was the last time.

Five more days after that, and they could both handle it solo again—awkward, careful, slow, but independent.

And it was… peaceful. Calm, even.

For the last three days, Luna had gotten back into a regular bathing routine, joining me at the river like clockwork—always early, always quiet. At first, she’d wait for me to finish before getting in, but now? Now she bathed at the same time, just on the other side of the water, never once acting shy or nervous about it. She was comfortable. At ease. She trusted me—and that meant more than she probably realized.

Bonnie, perhaps more surprising, had joined the routine as well. After the first time I’d washed her, she seemed to decide that modesty had taken enough of a beating, and now she bathed right alongside us, just as casually, just as freely. No flirting, no teasing, no awkward tension—just three people, washing off the grime of the day, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

And honestly?

It kind of was.

The world hadn’t ended. The forest hadn’t caught fire. No monsters had come out of the trees in the night. For two whole weeks, life had been quiet, stable, and—dare I say it—good.

No chaos.

No heartbreak.

Just the warmth of a fire, the sound of the river, and the kind of companionship I never thought I’d have again.

I didn’t know how long it would last.

But I’d protect it with everything I had.

The sun was high overhead, not scorching but definitely making its presence known, casting lazy golden light across the treetops and reflecting off the surface of the slow-moving river nearby; the water rippled gently as a soft breeze rolled over it, cool and teasing against my face, and the three of us—me, Luna, and Bonnie—were stretched out comfortably near the riverbank, no fire needed today thanks to the warmth, no urgent tasks to handle, just a rare, quiet break in the usual pattern of survival.

I found myself watching the water as it moved, eyes trailing the currents, and my thoughts started drifting with them—slow, unhurried, but deep—and before I even realized it, my mind latched onto something that made me blink in surprise.

Has it really been that long?

I stared out at the reflection of the sky, narrowing my eyes slightly, and then said aloud, mostly to myself but loud enough to be heard, “I can’t believe it… how long’s it been since I came to this world?”

There was no answer at first, just the soft rustle of leaves and the bubbling of water.

“…It’s been a month now. Or so,” I murmured. “A whole damn month… stuck in Equestria.”

I shook my head slowly, still half in disbelief. “And in that whole time, I’ve only seen one environment—a fucking forest. That’s it. No towns, no cities, no roads, no other ponies. Just trees. And out of everyone in this world, I’ve only met two people: Luna… and Bonnie.”

I glanced to my right, where Luna was sitting in the grass, her mane shimmering in the daylight instead of moonlight for once. “Which is funny,” I added, “because Bonnie’s not even from this world.”

Luna looked over, brow raised, clearly caught off guard by my sudden train of thought. “What?”

“It’s been a month,” I said, looking her in the eyes. “Since I met you. At least.”

She blinked, then slowly looked up at the sky, visibly calculating the time in her head. “…Huh. You’re right. Wow. I didn’t realize that much time had passed already.”

I gave a small nod, the weight of the realization sinking in a little more now that I’d said it aloud. “Yeah. A full month… here in Equestria. And a full month I’ve known you.”

Then I turned to my other side, where Bonnie was lounging back with her arms folded behind her head, tail twitching lazily. “And you?” I said, nodding toward her. “I think me and Luna met you… maybe a week after we met each other?”

Bonnie tilted her head, thinking. “Sounds about right. It’s been just under a month for me.” She smirked, eyes glinting. “Still crazy, though, how fast time flew by—and how much we’ve been through.”

Luna gave a soft hum in agreement. “It’s been… an interesting month, that’s for sure.”

Bonnie nodded. “Definitely. Honestly? Probably the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Dangerous. Chaotic. But fun.”

Luna chuckled. “Same here. Living out here in the forest, no castle, no staff, no responsibilities, no court sessions or political nonsense—just surviving day to day, hunting and cleaning and bathing and joking… It’s strange, but… I kind of like it. I’d forgotten what it felt like to just live without having to rule over an entire country.”

I smirked. “Too bad, Luna. Like it or not, you’re probably going back to ruling eventually. Nothing good lasts forever.”

Luna sighed, her wings rustling slightly as she stretched them out beside her. “Yeah… that’s true.”

I looked at her for a moment, studying her posture, her scars, her quiet strength. Then I lifted my left hoof slowly, placing it on her back—right between the shoulder blades—and gently parted the newly regrown fur, revealing faint white lines underneath, old wounds now hidden but not erased.

Both Luna and Bonnie glanced at me, curious, but neither one stopped me. Luna didn’t even flinch. We were far past the point where touching meant anything uncomfortable.

“You’ve got a hell of a set of scars back here,” I said, eyes tracing the rough patterns left behind by timberwolf claws. “Your fur hides them well, but up close? It’s a damn mess. Wonder how your sister’s gonna react when she sees them.”

Luna snorted, rolling her eyes. “Panic. Absolute panic. You know how she is.”

I nodded and gave her back a slow, firm rub. “Maybe. But even if others can’t see them, anyone who touches you back here’s gonna feel them. You’ve got a back full of reminders now, Luna. Might stay that way the rest of your life.”

Luna looked down at the grass, her expression thoughtful rather than upset. “Yeah… they will. I could use a spell. Probably fix it. Erase them. Smooth out the skin. But I won’t.”

She looked up again, meeting my gaze. “They mean something to me now. They’re not just scars—they’re lessons. Reminders. That I’m not invincible. That being an alicorn doesn’t make me immortal or untouchable. That I can bleed. That I can die. But more than that… they remind me that you saved me. That Bonnie was there. That we survived. They’re proof that this forest changed me.”

I didn’t say anything for a moment.

Then I nodded, quietly, respectfully.

Bonnie shifted next to me, her voice soft but steady. “I feel the same way. My scars? They mean something too. I’ve always hated showing weakness, always tried to stay one step ahead of danger. But now? Now I wear those scars. Not out in the open, but… in here.” She tapped her chest. “They’re part of me now.”

She grinned a little, flicking an ear. “Besides… I’ve got fur and clothes. No one’s gonna see them. But I know they’re there. And I like that.”

I looked between them both, these two impossible people who’d become my world in a matter of weeks.

And then I smirked.

“Damn,” I said. “I’ve got no scars. I feel like I’m missing out.”

They both laughed—real, loud, unfiltered laughs—and Luna grinned over her shoulder at me.

“Trust me, Ghost,” she said, shaking her head, “you’re not missing out.”

I let a smirk pull at the corner of my mouth as I looked between them, the heat of the sun still warm on my coat and the breeze rolling soft through the trees.

“Well… sort of,” I said casually, glancing down at my chest, one hoof brushing over the black vest strapped snug across my frame. “I mean, I don’t have any scars from being in this world, but I’ve got plenty from before. Old gunshots. Shrapnel. Knives. Burns. All of it.”

Both Luna and Bonnie blinked at that, ears twitching, clearly caught a little off guard.

Luna squinted at me, brow raised as her head tilted. “Well, we wouldn’t know that now, would we?” she said with a faint snort. “You’ve never taken that armor off. In fact, I think the most you’ve ever removed is your helmet—and even then, you still wore it around your neck half the time.”

“It’s been a month,” she continued, gesturing at me with a hoof, “and not once have we seen you out of your gear.”

I just shrugged. “We’re in a forest, Luna. And forests are unpredictable. I like to stay prepared.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes with a small laugh. “Yeah, we noticed,” she muttered, then leaned over and jabbed a finger into my chest, right over the center of my vest. “Honestly, though—how good is this stuff anyway? It just looks like plain black clothing. Doesn’t look like anything crazy.”

Luna, now clearly interested too, stepped forward and prodded the vest with her hoof, poking curiously at the firm but slightly flexible material. “Indeed,” she said, eyeing it closely. “It’s nothing like Royal Guard armor. No metal, no gold, no plating. This feels more like cloth than protection. What’s it made of? And the rest of your body doesn’t look that much better armored. Your chest, stomach, and back are covered—but your legs and sides are just fabric, aren’t they?”

As she said that, her hoof traced along the fabric of my pants and shirt—not intrusively, just curiously—her expression analyzing every texture and seam.

I shrugged again, totally unfazed. “The pants and undershirt aren’t designed for protection. They’re lightweight but reinforced—more durable than standard fabric, meant for movement and heat resistance. But yeah, not meant to stop bullets. That’s why I’ve got armor where it counts.”

Then I looked at Luna with a little more challenge in my eyes and took a step back, planting my hooves firmly into the dirt and tapping my chest twice with a hollow thud.

“Go ahead,” I said. “Hit me.”

Luna blinked. “What?”

“Hit me,” I repeated, voice calm but confident. “As hard as you can. Right here. Dead center.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed with interest, the corner of her mouth curling upward. “Don’t cry when it hurts,” she said with a smirk, then turned slightly and raised one leg, rearing back for the strike.

With no hesitation, she slammed her left forehoof forward—putting real force into it—and the impact landed with a solid, echoing THUD against my chest.

The sound was deep and final… and then came the follow-up.

“FfffffFFUCK!!” Luna yelped, stumbling back as her eyes went wide, pupils shrinking as she immediately grabbed her hoof with the other, hopping in place. “DAMN it—by the STARS, that hurt!”

Bonnie’s ears flicked up fast as she watched Luna hopping around and cursing like a sailor, clutching her hoof like she’d just slammed it into stone.

“Seriously?” Bonnie said, lifting an eyebrow. “Is it that hard?”

Before I could say anything, she stepped forward, made a fist with her right hand, and gave me a firm, confident shove to the chest—less force than Luna, but enough to test the vest.

Except… the second her knuckles connected, she froze, her expression twisted into a wince of instant regret, and she yanked her hand back like she’d just punched steel.

“OW—Motherfuck—!” she hissed, shaking out her hand and holding it close to her chest. “What the hell is that thing made of?!”

I couldn’t help it—I let out a short snort and crossed my forelegs, looking very satisfied with myself.

“Well,” I said dryly, “that was not smart at all.”

Both Luna and Bonnie glared at me with identical expressions of betrayal and disbelief.

Bonnie was still rubbing her knuckles, muttering curses under her breath, and Luna was flexing her bruised hoof and mumbling what I swore was a promise to throw me in a river.

But I just smiled and sat back down in the grass, smug as ever.

“Just because it doesn’t look like armor,” I said, “doesn’t mean it’s not. Modern body armor isn’t built to be pretty—it’s built to stop high-speed rounds and shrapnel without turning you into a walking tin can. This vest? It’s Kevlar with ceramic plates underneath. You hit the front plate. That’s why it felt like a wall.”

Luna grumbled, still flexing her foreleg. “You could’ve warned us, damn it…”

I smirked again, letting my head rest back against the sun-warmed grass.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Bonnie and Luna were still giving me those identical matching death glares, clearly not amused by my earlier smartass comment, and while I’d usually throw a grin their way and keep the mood light, this time I figured it was worth humoring their curiosity instead, especially now that their focus had shifted to something a little more interesting—my armor.

Bonnie crossed her arms, flicked her tail once, then nodded toward my vest again. “So… the name of this stuff is Kevlar?”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “Kevlar’s the base. Looks like plain cloth, I know—but it’s actually a synthetic fiber. Woven tight. Strong as hell. Can stop bullets, shrapnel, even some blades.”

Bonnie raised a brow, visibly impressed, while Luna leaned in a bit, eyes narrowed in that analytical way she did when she was quietly absorbing every detail.

“It may not look like much,” I continued, tapping the thick center panel over my chest, “but it offers solid protection. And unlike your Royal Guard armor—metal, heavy, flashy—this is lightweight. I can run in it. Dodge. Roll. Climb. Move in any direction without it slowing me down.”

Luna snorted softly. “Well, yes. The Guard’s armor isn’t made for stealth or speed. It’s ceremonial—gold and shine and intimidation.”

“Exactly,” I said. “This is made for survival.”

Then I paused for a second, just to make sure they were following, before I added, “But the vest alone isn’t the whole picture. There’s more going on under the surface.”

Bonnie tilted her head. “Like what?”

I reached up and pointed to the hidden zipper along the shoulder seam, pulling it down just an inch to show where the thick inner layer began. “This vest is a carrier,” I explained, “for ballistic plates. A bulletproof plate—also called a body armor plate—is a hard, rigid component designed to be inserted into vests like this. They’re made of ceramic, steel, or composite materials. The plates are the part that can stop high-caliber rounds—stuff that would rip straight through soft armor. Without them, this is still good, but with them?”

I tapped the plate beneath my chest again. “You slammed your hoof into this, Luna. That wasn’t just fabric. You hit a ballistic plate.”

Both Bonnie and Luna were silent for a second, blinking like they were trying to process what I’d just described.

Luna finally said, “That… explains the pain. You’re basically wearing a wall.”

“Pretty much,” I said with a dry grin. “The outer shell spreads the impact, but the plate absorbs the force. That’s why your hits didn’t do a damn thing.”

Bonnie rubbed her hand again and muttered something under her breath before asking, “So… how many of those can you carry?”

“Two,” I said. “One in the front, one in the back. Protects the heart, lungs, spine, center mass. It won’t stop everything—but it buys you time to survive.”

Then, seeing they were still curious, I started pulling the vest off, unclipping the straps and peeling it up over my head with a practiced motion. I set it down in front of them, and instantly, their eyes snapped to it like they were inspecting something sacred. It looked plain black when I wore it, sure—but up close on the ground, they could see all the texture and detail. Rows of pouches, reinforced seams, hidden compartments they hadn’t noticed before.

Luna blinked. “Wait… your vest and your shirt… they’re not the same thing?”

“Nope,” I said, smirking slightly. “Shirt’s just a base layer. The vest goes over it. Makes it easier to take off in the field, faster to put back on. Trust me, if you get shot and need a medic to patch you up, you don’t want your armor fused to your body.”

Bonnie leaned forward, running her fingers across one of the larger pouches. “All these pockets… what are they for?”

“Ammo,” I said simply. “The big ones are for rifle magazines—each holds thirty rounds. I carry six, so that’s 180 rounds on me at all times. The smaller ones?” I tapped one near the side. “Sidearm mags. Maybe ten, twelve rounds each. I can carry around eighty pistol rounds easily.”

Their expressions changed immediately—both of them stiffened, eyes wide.

“That’s…” Bonnie blinked, clearly calculating. “That’s so much ammo. Every soldier carries that?”

“Yep,” I said, shrugging. “Every single one. Standard loadout. Full armor, plates, and ammo. And that’s just the vest. We usually have packs on our backs, too. More ammo, supplies, grenades, medical kits. Depends on the unit.”

Bonnie looked stunned. “How the hell do you even move with all that?”

“Training,” I said flatly. “It’s second nature after a while.”

Then I glanced at them both, saw their still-widening eyes, and figured now was as good a time as any to drop the real culture shock.

“And that’s just military,” I added. “You should see what our police carry.”

That made both of them jerk slightly and turn toward me in perfect sync.

Luna narrowed her eyes. “…Your law enforcement? The police?”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding slowly. “Most cops back home wear Kevlar vests too—usually without plates, but still bullet-resistant. They carry sidearms with about a hundred rounds between them and their spare mags.”

Bonnie looked completely floored. “One cop carries a hundred rounds?”

“Minimum,” I said. “On top of that? Pepper spray. Tasers. A baton—called a nightstick. A radio, cuffs, flashlight… and some have shotguns or rifles in their cruisers.”

Luna looked horrified.

“…Ghost,” she said slowly, “that doesn’t sound like police. That sounds like an army.”

“They’re not,” I said. “But they have to be prepared. Crime, riots, mass shooters, terrorists… You never know what you’re walking into back home. So yeah, we arm our officers.”

Bonnie and Luna exchanged a long look, then turned back to stare at me like I’d just casually said the sun was made of knives.

After a moment, Luna exhaled, rubbing the side of her head with one hoof. “In Equestria, our police don’t even carry weapons. They’re trained in basic self-defense or have a stun spell. That’s it.”

“Yeah,” Bonnie added. “Our pirates are more armed than your average Equestrian officer.”

“Well,” I said, smirking just slightly, “our cops don’t mess around.”

There was a long silence.

Then Bonnie exhaled sharply, muttering, “No shit.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow and turned his head slightly toward Bonnie, watching the way she was still eyeing the vest with a mixture of interest and suspicion. “You know,” he said casually, “I’m kind of surprised you even know what police are.”

Bonnie snorted, crossing her arms as her tail flicked. “Okay, rude. Just because I’m a pirate doesn’t mean I live under a rock. I might’ve stayed on Skull Island most of the time, but there are places across the Spiral that have laws and enforcers too. You think pirates never run into trouble with the law? Please. Half my life has been dodging 'em.”

Luna chuckled softly, nodding in agreement, then looked back at Ghost with a more serious expression. “Still… the way your law enforcement is armed is unsettling. If they’re carrying gear like this,” she gestured toward the vest still lying in the grass, “I can only imagine the kind of threats they deal with regularly. It must be… intense.”

Ghost gave a nonchalant shrug. “It is. The world’s not safe. Never has been.”

Bonnie looked back down at the vest again, her fingers twitching slightly like she was debating something. Then, without saying another word, she bent down and reached for it. The second her fingers closed around it and she began to lift, her balance tipped forward—just a little, but enough for her to catch herself with a surprised huff. Her arms trembled under the unexpected weight as she hauled it up and held it to her chest.

“Ghost,” she grunted, looking at him over the top of the armor, “you said this was lightweight. This is heavy!”

Ghost just blinked, expression deadpan. “I said lightweight for me. You’ve got skinny arms.”

Bonnie’s eyes narrowed immediately, her ears pulling back in that way that usually preceded a verbal lashing. “Excuse me? My arms are not skinny! I’m not weak, you ass.”

Luna, still lounging near the fire, giggled at that, one hoof lifting to hide her smirk.

Bonnie huffed, cheeks puffing out in irritation, and with a dramatic motion, she pulled off her coat and dropped it to the ground, then reached up to take off her hat and set it gently beside it. That left her in just her pants and bra, reddish-orange fur catching the midday light in a way that brought out her natural golden tone. With a determined grunt, she hauled the vest up over her head and dropped it down across her chest.

The fit was awkward at first—it hung heavy on her shoulders, the fabric of the straps biting into her bare fur. She squirmed, adjusted, shifted it side to side, then muttered, “Still heavy… but I guess you could get used to it. It’s not exactly comfortable, though.”

Ghost walked over to her, reaching for the sides of the vest. “That’s why I wear a shirt under it. The vest itself’s never meant to go directly against your skin or fur. But hang on, let me adjust it.”

He moved with that familiar professionalism, not even blinking as he tugged gently at the straps, shifting the plate carrier so it sat more snugly against her frame. The vest had always been designed to go over a humanoid torso—even if Ghost had been turned into a pony, it still sat across his chest and back more or less the way it would on a human. Now that Bonnie had it on, it draped similarly across her front, with the shoulder straps hugging over her collarbones and the back panel resting across her upper spine.

He knelt down and worked the side straps next, pulling them snug, locking the vest into place with a satisfying series of tight clicks. As he stepped back, the image of Bonnie in the gear was… surreal. The black of the armor clashed against the reddish-orange of her fur, and without her coat, her bare sides, stomach, and lower back were all exposed beneath the carrier. The contrast made the vest stand out all the more, and Ghost couldn’t help but think she looked halfway between a pirate and a SWAT officer.

Bonnie winced slightly and shifted her arms, rolling her shoulders. “Ugh. It’s tight on my chest,” she muttered. “Puts a lot of pressure right here. Feels like I can’t breathe properly.”

Ghost blinked, then nodded as he reached for the straps again. “Yeah. I made it snug—I forgot about your, uh… boobs.”

Bonnie raised one brow high. “You forgot I’m a girl?”

He loosened the straps a few notches and stepped back again, watching her let out a long, relieved sigh as the pressure across her chest eased. “Better?”

“Much,” she said, nodding and stretching her arms up. Then she gave him a look. “But still. Nice to know you can just completely forget what gender I am. Real flattering.”

Ghost gave a dry, unamused blink. “You’re in my squad. I stopped seeing you as anything but crew.”

Bonnie snorted. “That better not mean I look like one of your squadmates.”

Luna, still laughing softly, chimed in. “Well, you do have the vest now. Just missing the helmet.”

Bonnie flexed her arms dramatically, striking a silly mock soldier pose. “Yeah. Real tough. I’ll be kicking down doors and yelling clear in no time.”

Ghost smirked. “Sure, if the doors weigh less than the vest.”

“Hey!”

Bonnie exhaled slowly and looked down at the gear now snug against her torso, her fur visible around the edges of the vest where it didn’t fully cover. “Y’know,” she muttered with a faint huff, her voice still light but tinged with that sharp little edge she got when something genuinely irritated her, “this vest’s not too bad. If I still had my tank top, it might actually be kind of comfortable. But without one? Eh… not so much. Rubs on my skin too much. Feels weird against the fur.”

Ghost just gave a small grunt in response, stepping over to her side as she stretched her arms once more and started unbuckling the straps herself this time, already over it.

“I mean seriously,” she continued, shaking her head as she pulled the vest off and let it drop with a heavy thump on the grass beside her coat. “How the hell do you wear that thing non-stop? Through the forest, while sleeping, while moving—always?”

Ghost gave one of his casual, nonchalant shrugs—the kind that made it look like he didn’t care, even when the weight behind his words said otherwise. “Training,” he said, plain and simple. “When I joined, the first thing they did was strip us down to nothing. Then they built us back up. All of it—every drill, every exercise, every obstacle—was done in full gear. We had to earn the right to wear it, and after that? You never took it off.”

Bonnie’s ears flicked with interest. “What kind of stuff did they make you do?”

“Obstacle courses. Forced marches. Low crawls under barbed wire,” Ghost replied, his voice cool but edged with memory. “We carried each other. Got screamed at. Crawled through mud under simulated gunfire. All while wearing thirty to fifty pounds of armor and gear. And people passed out. A lot.”

Bonnie’s eyes widened, her face scrunching up slightly. “Like actually passed out?”

Ghost nodded. “Yep. Blacked out from heatstroke, exhaustion, pain—you name it. Some didn’t even make it through the first week. But those of us who did?” He glanced at her, just for a second. “We earned our place.”

Luna had been quiet, but she looked up then, her expression somber. “That sounds… horrifying. The Royal Guard trained hard, of course—but never like that. We had physical tests, but nothing close to what you're describing.”

Ghost met her gaze. “That’s the difference, Luna. The Royal Guard? They’re not soldiers. They’re dressed-up police officers. Parade marchers. Public symbols. Not fighters. Not warriors. And no offense—but Equestria never really wanted an army. You wanted peace. You built for peace.”

Luna didn’t argue. In fact, she nodded slowly, expression falling. “I know. You’ve told me that before. But now… I see it. I thought the Guard was strong. I believed it. But compared to what you’ve described?” She looked off to the side, frowning. “They’re not ready for anything. Not like your kind of soldier.”

There was nothing more to add to that. It hung in the air between them, a silent, heavy truth.

Bonnie, after a long quiet moment, looked down at her left shoulder and gave it a slow, deliberate roll, testing for pain. She paused, then looked back to Ghost. “By the way… that vest? Didn’t bother my shoulder. Honestly? It’s doing fine. Mostly healed now. Just scars left, but no real pain anymore.”

Ghost gave a brief nod in acknowledgment. “Good. That’s what I was waiting on.”

Bonnie blinked. “Huh?”

He looked at both her and Luna now, serious again. “You two remember what you asked me to do, right? Right after the timberwolf attack? When you were both lying there, half-dead, swearing you never wanted to feel that helpless again?”

Luna raised a brow. “Wait… you don’t mean—”

“Oh no,” Bonnie muttered, ears slowly flattening.

Ghost’s voice was calm, collected. “You asked me to train you. Close-quarters combat. Hand-to-hand. Real stuff. Not self-defense classes. Not sparring games. Combat.”

He stepped forward just a little, enough to make the tension between all three shift.

“Well,” he added, his eyes flicking between them, “you’re both healed now. More or less. And that means it’s time to begin.”

Bonnie and Luna stared at each other for a long beat, and without saying anything, they both clearly shared the same thought—the kind that didn’t need words, because the dread was mutual and loud enough between them.

Fuck.

Bonnie let her head fall back with a groan. “Why do we always do this to ourselves…”

Luna sighed and looked up at the sky. “Is it too late to pretend I’ve relapsed and need more healing time?”

Ghost just smirked. “Nope. You’re good. I checked already.”

“Damn it,” both women muttered under their breath.

Ghost looked almost pleased. “Welcome to your first day of training.”

Chapter Text

Ghost was still wearing that smug little grin, the same one that always made Bonnie and Luna both instantly suspicious, and right now it was making them squirm like schoolkids who just got told they were about to walk into a surprise test. The moment he said training was starting, they both looked like they'd been told they were about to die a slow, painful death. Luna was already mentally calculating how far she could limp before faking a relapse, and Bonnie was still in her bra after removing the vest earlier—sitting cross-legged with her arms drawn down in a pointed V-shape, hands lightly pressed together as she subtly pushed her chest forward to make her breasts pop just a little more. Her expression turned sweet and pleading as she batted her eyes at Ghost and said, with her best attempt at a coy smile, “Ghost… you’ll let me skip just one day, right? I mean, Luna needs this more than I do…”

Luna blinked, then slowly turned her head to glare directly at Bonnie. The look was pure traitor, a sharp, unimpressed squint that made it very clear she was not amused being thrown under the bus like that. Bonnie just gave a nervous shrug, like she hadn't meant any harm, but Luna was already mentally filing this moment away for later payback.

Ghost, meanwhile, simply raised a brow and stared at Bonnie with the dry, unaffected stare of someone who had seen enough manipulative games to be immune to them for life. “I washed you,” he said flatly. “I cleaned you when you could barely move. I’ve seen you fully naked, Bonnie. Every inch. Do you really think I give a crap about you pushing your boobs together and trying to act cute?”

Bonnie’s little smile immediately cracked. Ghost rolled his eyes and added, “Put your coat back on. You’re not getting out of this.”

With a frustrated groan, Bonnie yanked her coat off the ground and threw it back on with a bit more force than necessary, mumbling something unintelligible under her breath as she did. It didn’t do much to hide her irritation—or her embarrassment—but at least she was dressed again.

Luna, now visibly smug, arched an elegant brow and turned to Bonnie with a smirk that practically oozed satisfaction. “You should’ve known that wouldn’t work,” she said with mock sweetness. “I mean, how long have we known Ghost now? Has he ever once looked at either of us? Not even a glance. And you?” She gave a short laugh. “He’s right—you were fully nude, and he didn’t even flinch. You really think pushing your chest out now was gonna change that?”

Bonnie crossed her arms under her coat with a dramatic huff, cheeks puffing out slightly as she grumbled, “You know… I used to love how he never checked us out. Like, genuinely. It was refreshing. Respectful. But now?” She jabbed a thumb toward Ghost. “Now I hate that I can’t even use my ‘female powers’ on him. What’s the point of being hot if the guy you're trying to sway is immune?!”

Ghost, sitting down now and adjusting the gear at his side, glanced up at her with that same unreadable expression. “Female powers?” he repeated, tone dry. “That’s one way to put it, I guess. But no. That was never going to work. You really should’ve figured that out by now.”

Bonnie groaned again and flopped backward in the grass, her coat splaying out beneath her like a cape as she stared up at the sky. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” she said in exasperation. Then, dropping her voice to a flat deadpan, she muttered, “You’ve made that so clear. In fact, you’ve never called me pretty. Or Luna. You never compliment us. Seriously, Ghost… you really know how to make a girl feel warm and fuzzy inside.”

That earned a soft giggle from Luna, who covered her mouth with a hoof. Ghost didn’t even look up as he shrugged again.

Bonnie squinted sideways at him. “Okay, well, could you at least say my boobs look nice? Something? Anything?”

Ghost barely paused. “I’ve seen bigger. Yours are okay.”

Bonnie froze like someone had just slapped her across the face with a wet fish. Her eyes went wide, pupils shrinking slightly as she stared at him in open disbelief. Even Luna blinked hard, a hoof rising unconsciously to cover her mouth as she made a strangled noise, trying very hard not to burst into laughter.

Bonnie sat there, stunned. “You… You what?” she finally managed, her voice caught between offense and confusion. “Wow. Thanks. I think I actually preferred it when you didn’t say anything at all.”

Luna lost it. She tilted her head back and started giggling uncontrollably, snorting once as she tried to catch her breath. Bonnie shot her a glare, which only made Luna laugh harder.

And all the while, Ghost just sat there, smug as ever, completely unbothered.

Bonnie folded her arms tightly, let out a dramatic sigh, and muttered, “Ghost sucks.”

“Yup,” he replied, completely unfazed. “And I’m still not skipping your training.”

Bonnie groaned again, flopping back down harder this time, as Luna continued to giggle beside her.

Ghost smirked, looking between the two of them and thinking to himself with quiet amusement: This is gonna be fun.

Ghost let out a quiet exhale as he adjusted the straps on his vest, settling the armored gear back against his chest like it was second nature—like it belonged there. His eyes swept from Luna to Bonnie, then back again, before he spoke in that calm, even voice that somehow always carried weight no matter how soft it was.

“Well,” he said, tone shifting just slightly—less casual, more firm, more like a soldier slipping back into command, “first thing’s first. I need to see what I’m working with.”

He turned toward Bonnie with a small tilt of his head. “You’re up first.”

Bonnie blinked, ears flicking, and frowned slightly. “You want me to… what? Just fight you?”

“Fight me with everything you’ve got,” Ghost said, unflinching. “Don’t hold back. Trust me—I can handle it.”

Bonnie narrowed her eyes, already grimacing a little as she pushed herself to her feet. She didn’t like the sound of that. “Oh, I know you can handle it,” she muttered, brushing her coat off a bit. “It’s me I’m worried about.”

But despite the complaint, she shook herself out, stepped into a ready stance, and squared her shoulders. Her expression was serious now—no more jokes or smirks, just that tight, determined glare in her golden eyes.

“I still mean what I said back then,” she added, voice low and focused. “I want you to train me. I don’t care how brutal it gets—I want to be strong enough that this never happens again.”

Ghost gave her a small, almost approving nod. “Oh, I will. But right now? We’re enemies.”

Bonnie nodded once, accepting that, even as she kept her fists loosely curled at her sides. Luna, standing off to the side and watching intently, didn’t say a word—but her eyes tracked both of them with growing tension.

Then Ghost tilted his head, casually motioning with his hoof.

“Come here,” he said. “I need to tell you something. Real quick.”

Both Bonnie and Luna frowned in confusion—Bonnie a little more suspicious, Luna a little more curious—but Bonnie took a few cautious steps toward him anyway. She stopped just in front of him, brow furrowed, clearly wondering what this was about. Ghost gestured again, more insistently this time.

“Closer,” he said quietly, like it was a secret. “I don’t want Luna to hear.”

Still confused, Bonnie bent forward slightly, leaning her head down until her muzzle was just in front of Ghost’s face, eyes narrowing as she tried to figure out what—

She didn’t even see it coming.

Ghost’s right hoof moved like lightning, slamming into the side of her face with a brutal, unexpected punch—not hard enough to break bones, but hard enough to rattle her vision and send her stumbling back a step before she lost balance completely and fell onto her back with a cry of pain. She clutched her face with both hands, tears springing instantly to her eyes from the sheer force of the blow. She let out a loud, anguished noise that was half-growl, half-yelp, curling slightly as she gritted her teeth.

Luna gasped in pure shock, eyes wide, wings half-flaring like she was about to intervene. “Ghost?!”

But Ghost stood still, perfectly calm, his voice sharp but not angry. “We’re enemies right now. I told you that. And yet, you walked right up to me, leaned in—got close—just because I said I wanted to say something?” He shook his head, disappointment clear in his tone. “If someone you’re fighting suddenly says ‘Come here’—what, you think they’re being polite? You think they’re gonna whisper a secret?”

Bonnie was still on the ground, her jaw clenched as a snarl escaped her throat. Her ears were pinned, her teeth bared—sharp fox-like canines flashing—and her eyes were blazing with fury as she growled, “What the fuck, Ghost? You bastard!”

But he didn’t flinch. “That hit was for being stupid,” he said coldly. “You should’ve seen it coming. That’s your fault.”

Bonnie hissed through her teeth, still holding her face, the pain mixing with embarrassment, shame, and pure white-hot rage.

Luna looked from Ghost to Bonnie, the shock on her face fading slightly as she realized what the lesson was. She didn’t like it—none of them did—but it made sense. Painfully harsh sense.

“You wanted this training,” Ghost continued, his tone hard. “You asked me to make you stronger. That means you learn every lesson, even the ones that hurt. Especially those.”

Bonnie stood slowly, trembling slightly—not from fear, but from sheer controlled anger. She was still clutching her jaw, but her other hand curled into a fist.

“Okay…” she muttered, voice low and feral. “Okay, Ghost. I’m not falling for that again. And I swear—I’m gonna make you regret that cheap shot.”

Ghost simply tilted his head with a calm smirk. “Do whatever you want. Just remember: there are no rules in a fight. Not when it’s life or death. Either you win… or you die. That’s the world I came from. That’s the world I fight in. You need to learn that.”

Bonnie bared her teeth again, her golden eyes locked onto him with laser focus. “Fine,” she growled. “Then I go all in.”

And without hesitation, she lunged.

She threw a punch straight for Ghost’s head—quick, clean, but too obvious. Ghost sidestepped it with practiced ease, spinning just enough to jab his hoof into her side. The impact knocked the breath out of her, but she recovered fast and came swinging back around, aiming a wild left hook. Ghost ducked under it, pivoted low, and delivered a solid kick to her right leg—just behind the knee.

Bonnie cried out, collapsing to the ground as her leg gave out beneath her. She tried to roll back up—ready to counter—but then froze.

She didn’t have to look far.

A cold piece of metal was pressed against her neck.

Her eyes snapped downward to see the glint of Ghost’s combat knife resting right at her throat—not cutting, not piercing, but perfectly positioned to end the fight in one instant.

“You’re dead,” Ghost said quietly, his voice low but final.

He held the position for a moment longer, then pulled the knife away and slid it back into its sheath with a smooth, practiced motion.

“You let your anger control you,” he said as he stepped back. “It made you sloppy. You stopped thinking. You went for revenge, not survival. That’s a mistake you can’t afford.”

Bonnie stayed on the ground for a second longer, panting hard, her hands clenching the grass, her body trembling with frustration and pain. She wanted to scream. She wanted to punch something. But most of all… she knew he was right.

And that only made it worse.

Ghost’s eyes didn’t soften. He wasn’t here to be nice. He was here to make sure neither of them ever got blindsided again.

“Lesson one,” he said, voice flat. “Never let emotion win the fight.”

Bonnie said nothing. But the look she gave him said everything.

Ghost’s eyes stayed locked on Bonnie as she stood across from him, her body tense and breath heavy, fur ruffled from the countless times she’d been slammed into the ground during the past hour. He could see it all clear as day—anger flickering just beneath the surface of her expression, not just at him, but at herself. It was the kind of frustration that ran deep, the kind that didn’t come from losing to someone else but from realizing you weren’t as strong as you thought you were. That cut deeper than any bruise.

Still, from where he stood, Ghost didn’t see failure. Sure, she’d been taken down fast—every single time. But what did they expect? He wasn’t just a soldier. He wasn’t even just a trained professional. He was special forces. Spec ops. Ghost was trained for war in a way most people couldn’t even imagine, let alone replicate. Of course he won. The real question was how she handled the fight.

And despite everything, Ghost had seen something promising.

She wasn’t trained—he could tell that much right away. Her footwork was raw, her defense instinctual but lacking technique. But she wasn’t clueless, not at all. No, Bonnie had clearly been in real fights before. Street fights. Close encounters. Probably bar brawls or back-alley scuffles with pirates or lowlife scum from the Spiral. She didn’t have form, but she had experience—the kind you don’t get from a training mat, but from getting punched in the mouth when it really counted. Against someone normal, someone untrained or just overconfident, Ghost had no doubt she’d hold her own. She might even win.

But this? Going up against him?

She never had a chance.

Still, she kept getting back up.

She kept adjusting.

And when she rose to her feet one more time, eyes narrowed in a smoldering glare, Ghost noted something important—she didn’t charge this time. She didn’t lunge blindly at him with anger leading the way. She stood still. Took a breath. Dropped into a proper stance and waited.

He smirked slightly, just enough for Luna to catch it off to the side. Good, he thought. She’s already learning.

Another fight. Another takedown. Then another. Then another. Over the next hour, Ghost didn’t go easy on her. He pushed her hard, repeatedly knocking her down, pinning her, testing her with unpredictable strikes, grapples, and feints. And Bonnie? She never gave up. Her breathing got heavier, her coat darker with sweat and dirt, and frustration boiled off her like heat waves on the summer ground, but she kept going. Her growls got louder, her claws dug into the dirt more desperately each time, and by the end of it, her golden eyes burned with pure fury—not at Ghost, but at herself.

The final round ended with Ghost pinning her down hard, one foreleg across her upper body, his weight centered perfectly to keep her from wriggling free. Bonnie let out a furious, guttural growl that echoed into the trees, her voice rough from breathlessness and rising tears of sheer frustration. She hadn’t landed a single clean hit on him. Not one.

It was crushing.

Ghost stood and backed off, giving her room. Bonnie rolled over, panting, the grass around her flattened, bits of dirt clinging to her fur and coat. She didn’t meet his eyes as she pushed herself to her feet again, her entire body tight with exhausted rage.

But before she could square up for another go, Ghost held up a hoof.

“We’re done,” he said firmly.

Bonnie froze mid-step, her fists clenched, chest rising and falling. “What?” she snapped, voice still ragged. “No. I can keep going. I—”

“No,” Ghost cut in, voice hard but not unkind. “I’ve seen enough. I’ve got a good idea now of how you fight—and what you need from me if you’re going to get better. But more of this?” He gestured between them. “Just swinging at each other with no structure? That won’t help you now. Not until I build a training plan that actually works for what you need.”

Bonnie looked like she was going to argue anyway—her teeth grit, her whole body still radiating challenge—but Ghost saw it in her eyes: she knew he was right. She hated it, but she knew.

“And,” he added, eyes narrowing slightly, “your anger’s starting to leak out again. You’ve been doing a damn good job keeping it in check, but it’s bubbling over now. You need to stop. Cool down, Bonnie. Don’t let it undo the progress you just made.”

Bonnie didn’t respond right away. Her eyes flicked away from him, then slowly back again. She gave a tight, sharp nod and turned, walking off without a word. She didn’t stomp. Didn’t huff or spit insults over her shoulder. But her back was rigid, and her fists were still clenched at her sides.

Ghost’s eyes followed her until she slumped down next to Luna, who’d been watching everything in intense silence. Luna reached out a hoof and gently patted Bonnie’s shoulder, a quiet gesture of comfort, and Bonnie leaned slightly into it without speaking. Her face said enough. Ghost could see the wear on her—fur matted, bruises starting to form beneath the coat, and the grime of the forest floor all over her from being thrown, pinned, rolled, and slammed into the dirt time and time again.

She was hurting. Physically, mentally, emotionally.

But she wasn’t broken.

Ghost exhaled slowly, then turned his gaze to Luna.

“You’re up,” he said simply.

Luna, who had watched every second of Bonnie’s beatdown with a steadily growing sense of dread, sighed heavily. “Yes, yes,” she muttered, rising stiffly to her hooves with a grimace. “Time to get my flank handed to me.”

Bonnie didn’t laugh.

But even in her silence, she smirked faintly.

And that was enough.

Luna stepped forward, her hooves making soft but purposeful thuds against the forest floor as she came to stand across from Ghost. The air was warm, the grass slightly flattened from the earlier scuffle between Bonnie and Ghost, and the tension between the two ponies was growing quietly, subtly, like a string pulled taut between them. Luna’s expression was unreadable—stoic, eyes sharp, lips pressed into a thin line. She stood tall, wings half-flared with tension, and Ghost couldn’t help but quietly assess her with a soldier’s eye.

She looked… exactly as she had in the show.

There was something eerie and fascinating about that—how real she was, how much more imposing she appeared now than as a moving drawing on a screen. She was the same mare he’d seen battle Nightmare Moon, the same voice that had shaken the sky during her royal Canterlot outbursts. But in person? She towered over him. Not massively, but enough to be obvious. Taller than most ponies he’d seen—second only to Celestia herself. She wasn’t just some fantasy character anymore. She was a full-grown alicorn, broad of wing, powerful of stride, and her sheer presence was something that couldn’t be ignored.

And unlike Bonnie, Luna wasn’t just physically commanding—she was intelligent. Sharper. Not to knock Bonnie, who was clever in her own right and battle-smart in her own way, but Luna? Luna ran a country. She'd governed, judged, strategized. Ghost could already see it in her eyes: calculation, assessment, analysis. She wasn’t going to make the same mistakes Bonnie had. In fact, she had been watching his fight with Bonnie the entire time with a strategist’s focus, likely already reviewing angles, reactions, patterns, and his footwork. She was prepared.

Or so she thought.

Ghost’s expression didn’t shift. His stance remained loose but deceptive, his hooves planted but spring-loaded with coiled energy. He didn’t speak, didn’t give a warning like he had earlier—he just moved.

He lunged forward, suddenly, violently fast, the kind of burst that made normal people flinch on instinct. Not Bonnie’s fight style, not even a strike from afar—just a full-body forward sprint, closing the gap between him and Luna in an instant. He wasn’t waiting for her to come to him this time. She widened her eyes briefly, clearly surprised that he was starting the engagement, but her body responded on trained instinct. She reacted fast—really fast—stepping to shift her weight and extend her right foreleg outward to counter what she thought was going to be a close-up frontal strike.

But it was a feint.

Ghost had baited her—and just like that, she was off-balance for exactly one second.

And one second was all he needed.

Ghost dropped low, letting his body fall into a practiced slide. He didn’t go under her like a dive—he rolled onto his side, legs angled, sliding smoothly between her front hooves. Luna looked down, shocked, realizing too late what was happening as Ghost slid directly beneath her belly. Before she could even blink again, she felt it.

Cold metal.

His combat knife was pressed against the underside of her stomach—her barrel—pointed straight up with calm, unshaking precision.

Ghost lay flat beneath her, belly-up, knife raised, his red eyes staring directly into hers from below as the realization struck her fully.

“Dead,” Ghost said, flat and certain. “If this were real, you’d be dead. Gutted in one stroke. You wouldn’t have even seen it coming.”

Luna blinked, her wings giving a twitch of unease, head still lowered in stunned disbelief. She looked down at her own stomach, and then back into Ghost’s face, understanding very clearly just how quickly and effortlessly she had lost.

And Ghost wasn’t even gloating. He calmly pulled the blade back, tucked it away, and began to roll smoothly out from under her, standing back up like a professional instructor after a demonstration—not like someone who had just ended a fight in seconds.

He turned to face her, eyes serious. “That’s something I noticed even back in my world—watching the show,” he began, his tone calm but with a distinct undercurrent of pointed critique. “You ponies don’t protect your stomachs. Ever. It’s like… completely open. No armor. No counter-measures. Just a huge, vulnerable spot, and everyone pretends like it’s fine. I’ve seen royal guards in full gold plate armor with absolutely nothing protecting their underbellies. Not even a scrap of fabric. I always thought it was a weird artistic oversight… but no. It’s real. And dangerous.”

He glanced up at her again, then gestured with a slight tilt of his head. “And for ponies like you and your sister, Luna—tall, long-legged, regal types—you’re walking targets. You’ve got all this height, all this size, and it makes the gap between your legs even bigger. Which means it’s even easier for someone like me to slide under and go for a kill shot.”

Luna still hadn’t moved. She was just… absorbing.

The look on her face was a strange combination of shock, discomfort, and dawning awareness. “How… how did I not see this?” she murmured, mostly to herself. “How did no one see this? Our stomachs are completely unprotected… even back before I was banished, even then, I remember our royal guards wearing the same damn armor. Nothing underneath. Nothing ever protected their bellies.”

She looked down at herself, then to Ghost, her voice heavier with disbelief. “That’s… horrifying. You’re right. You just proved it. You got under me before I even processed what you were doing. If this were a real fight… I would’ve been disemboweled on the spot.”

Ghost nodded slightly, folding his forelegs. “Exactly. I didn’t do that to humiliate you—I needed to show you the reality. I needed you to feel that weakness. Because if you don’t understand where you’re vulnerable, then how the hell can you ever survive a real fight?”

She nodded, swallowing hard, her expression steeling itself. “I… I see that now. And I’ll never forget it.”

From behind, Bonnie—who’d been watching with a mixture of tension and barely concealed anticipation—spoke up with a dry, sarcastic edge to her voice. “Well damn, Luna. You didn’t even get thrown into the dirt like I did. You just got the knife treatment. Skip the wrestling and straight to the gut stab.”

Luna let out a single, rueful chuckle and exhaled. “Oh yes. Utterly humbling. And terrifying.”

Ghost turned away slightly, already mentally preparing for the next phase. She won’t fall for that again, he thought. But I’ve still got more to teach them. They’re learning… but we’re just getting started.

And this time, Luna didn’t look defeated—she looked determined.

The forest clearing was quiet again, the river just off to the side providing a soft backdrop of trickling water, as Ghost and Luna stood facing each other once more. The tension was steady, not aggressive—just focused, like two warriors preparing for round two. Luna’s mane fluttered slightly in the air, her eyes narrowed and determined. She had just lost to Ghost in a fast, brutal lesson that exposed a horrifying blind spot in her awareness—the completely unprotected underside of her body, especially for alicorns like herself. But now she was standing again, focused and visibly more alert, refusing to let the same mistake happen twice.

Before they moved to clash again, Ghost held up a hoof.

“Before we start,” he said, voice steady but edged with that low tone of critique he’d used during Bonnie’s fight, “I just want to say this straight—Luna, you’re lucky. Lucky as hell that nobody in this world seems to have ever noticed how vulnerable ponies really are. Because I swear, it’s like everyone here has blinders on. Griffons, dragons, other creatures outside of Equestria—they all fight, they all think tactically, and yet somehow no one’s ever exploited how easy it is to get underneath a pony’s stance? You’ve been living on borrowed time.”

Luna blinked, clearly listening, absorbing—not offended, just disturbed at the truth of what he was saying.

Ghost kept going. “And something else that’s been bothering me since I got here—pegasus guards. In the show, I never saw any of them with full armor. Hell, sometimes they didn’t even wear helmets. But when they did wear armor, I noticed something even dumber—there were holes in the plating for the wings to come out, which leaves the wing joints completely exposed. No armor. Nothing.”

He stepped slightly to the side, pacing now, getting more into it. “Look, I get it—it’s probably uncomfortable to armor the base of the wings. Might limit motion, might rub or pull or feel weird. But who the hell cares? If I had wings, I’d want something protecting those joints. And it doesn’t even need to be part of a full-body armor set. My vest isn’t part of some complete, matching kit—it’s modular. You can wear it over different gear. Why not just have separate armor pieces that snap onto the wing joints? Something lightweight but protective.”

Luna, quiet at first, blinked slowly and nodded, visibly mulling it over. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I… I don’t know why we never thought of that. The wing joints have always been seen as vulnerable, but I suppose we’ve just accepted that weakness instead of trying to fix it. It was always assumed a skilled pegasus would simply dodge, outfly the threat. But you’re right. A clean strike to the wing joint can cripple a flyer permanently. And the worst part is… it wouldn’t be hard to fix. Not really. Just uncomfortable.”

Ghost gave a sharp nod. “Right. And you tell me—would you rather deal with a few sore muscles from something rubbing the wrong way… or never fly again?”

Luna looked down at the grass for a moment, then lifted her head with a hard stare. “You’re absolutely right. When we get out of this forest, I’m going to make changes to the Royal Guard armor. I don’t care if my sister likes it or not—she’s been soft for too long. We need to adapt.”

Ghost smirked faintly. “Good answer.” He lifted his stance again, posture loose but alert. “Now let’s do this.”

Luna nodded, steeling herself again, and just like that, the air snapped back into tension. They clashed.

What followed was a grueling, sweat-soaked hour of hard, fast-paced sparring. Like with Bonnie, Ghost didn’t go easy on her—not once. Luna held her own better than Bonnie in a few areas—her movements were tighter, less wild, her head a little clearer under pressure. She didn’t charge recklessly, and she managed to read some of Ghost’s feints without falling for them. But even with that, she still wasn’t trained. Her instincts were raw, grounded more in dignity and position than survival.

And Ghost had no intention of letting her off easy.

He pulled the slide-under trick again. Not once. Five times.

Each time he slid under her tall, towering form and pressed that damn knife against her stomach or flank or barrel, Luna’s frustration built like a storm cloud ready to burst. And it wasn’t just that she’d fallen for it—it was that she knew it was coming after the second time, and still couldn’t stop it. For all her cleverness, all her battle instincts, this was a weak point she had never trained for. There was no muscle memory, no practiced response, no guard stance that accounted for someone sliding underneath her body and pretending to gut her like a fish.

And she hated that.

But she also learned.

Ghost noted it—Luna didn’t let the same mistake happen exactly the same way each time. The angles changed. Her counter-strikes got tighter. She started trying to close her legs faster when he came in low, even started shifting her wings to try to block his body from slipping under. It didn’t work yet, but the instinct was building.

Still… she never won a round. Not one. She landed a few hits—good, solid ones. One strike had even made Ghost grunt and take a step back. Luna had looked thrilled by that. But overall, it was clear she’d been just as outmatched as Bonnie, only with different strengths and flaws.

When Ghost finally stepped back, breathing steady but with that familiar weariness in his limbs, he raised a hoof and signaled the end.

“Alright, that’s enough. We’re done for now.”

Luna, panting slightly, wings sagging at her sides, gave a slow nod and turned to walk back toward Bonnie, who was still sitting nearby watching the whole thing. Luna slumped down next to her with a long, drawn-out sigh and muttered something under her breath about her pride being in the dirt.

Ghost stood there a moment longer, just watching them both.

Bonnie still looked sore and irritated from her own loss, but she’d clearly cooled off, and her glare had softened into something more thoughtful. Luna, while annoyed with herself, seemed to be mentally running through everything she'd just experienced, her eyes flicking with that calculating glint of someone already trying to figure out how to overcome a weakness.

Good, Ghost thought to himself. They’re both still raw. But they’ve got the spark. They just need the right push.

He stepped back a little, pulled in a slow breath of the forest air, and exhaled.

Now came the real challenge—building a training plan to turn them into something that could actually survive this world’s future threats. Because whether they realized it or not, they weren’t just survivors anymore.

They were a crew.

And they needed to be ready.

The fire crackled softly in the darkness, casting flickering shadows across the forest floor, the orange glow lighting up the edges of the trees around them. It was past midnight now, and the forest had settled into that eerie silence that only deep wilderness could offer. The air was cool but calm, and the only sound besides the fire was the occasional rustle of leaves or shifting bodies near the camp.

Ghost sat close to the fire, eyes locked on the flames as his mind churned. He wasn’t just staring blankly—he was planning, calculating, thinking through every little thing he needed to do next. Across from him, both Luna and Bonnie were sleeping, the long day of training having finally caught up with them. Bonnie was curled up under her coat, using it like a blanket the way she had for weeks now, the sleeves loosely draped over her sides and her tail twitching just once as she shifted in her sleep. Luna, meanwhile, lay beside her without a blanket at all, her wings tucked tight against her body, mane slightly tousled from the sparring and the dirt she’d taken more than once to the side.

It hadn’t been the most brutal thing they’d done—an hour of close combat sparring each—but being slammed into the ground over and over again wasn’t exactly light exercise. Ghost knew that kind of repeated punishment wore on more than just the muscles. It bruised pride, cracked confidence, made you question things. He could see it in Bonnie’s expression after her last fall and in the tight, tired look on Luna’s face before she finally collapsed down to rest. They had tried, and he could see they had spirit, but spirit alone didn’t win fights. Not real ones.

Which was why tomorrow had to be different.

Ghost leaned forward slowly, his forelegs resting against his knees as his eyes narrowed. No more freeform testing. He’d seen what he needed to see today. Now it was time to take what he knew—what he was—and turn it into something they could use. Real training. He wasn't going to give them anything from the Special Forces. That stuff was classified, dangerous, and required conditioning and mental strength most people could never reach, let alone maintain. But the standard military combat training? That, he could adapt. That, he would give them.

The problem, though, was form.

Bonnie wouldn’t be too difficult—her body was close enough to human that adapting the movements wouldn’t take much. She had arms, legs, hands, and a solid center of gravity, even if she was slightly lighter than he was used to in a trainee. But Luna? Luna was a pony. And while she was tall—nearly as tall as Celestia herself, from what he’d seen in the show—her body was still equine. Standing on all fours meant a totally different approach to balance, power generation, and defense. That would be a challenge. A big one.

He pushed himself up from the log he was sitting on and slowly rose to his hind legs, standing up like a human would. For a second, he expected it to hurt, maybe feel off-balance. But instead? Nothing. No pain. No wobbling. No discomfort. His pony body—while equine in shape—responded with fluid ease, as if it were natural for him to be upright like this. Which, in a strange way, made sense. He was human before this. Maybe that instinctive human balance and posture had carried over, even into this new body. And if it worked for him, maybe it could work for Luna too.

He threw a couple of punches in the air experimentally, testing his reach and form. They felt… right. Solid. Almost the same as his old body. No loss of coordination. No real limitations.

Which gave him a dangerous idea.

If Luna could be trained to fight upright—if she could learn to balance and move on her hind legs, even just long enough to handle a hand-to-hand situation—he could give her real training. He could teach her actual human-style CQC. Turn her into something terrifying. With her natural strength, her alicorn power, and a mind like hers? She could be dangerous in a fight. More than dangerous.

He glanced back toward her sleeping form. She’d gotten her flank kicked all day, sure. But she’d also kept getting up. And she was smart. She was driven. She wanted this. And more than that—she trusted him. Both she and Bonnie had trusted him with everything. Their injuries, their bodies, their pride. They gave him all of it without hesitation.

The least he could do was turn them into warriors who could survive anything this world threw at them.

Tomorrow would be the beginning of hell for them. But it would also be the start of something real.

He dropped back to all fours again and stared into the fire for a long time, that slow, focused smirk playing on his face.

The morning light had only just begun to filter through the trees when Ghost stirred, the early hush of dawn still clinging to the forest like a thin veil. It was peaceful. Quiet. Boring, if he was being honest with himself.

He sat near the softly crackling campfire, staring idly at Luna and Bonnie as they remained fast asleep. Judging by the light and the faint chirping of birds, he guessed it was around 6:00 a.m., maybe a bit later. A part of him considered waking them, maybe yelling like a drill instructor, but what was the point? This wasn’t boot camp. He wasn’t rebuilding a platoon of broken cadets or screaming orders into the ears of 18-year-olds with too much bravado and not enough brains. No, this was just basic CQC training. Real, yes. Important, absolutely. But not a full-blown military indoctrination. So, there was no need to drag them out of sleep like they were in a barracks.

By the time 6:44 rolled around, he spotted movement. Luna stirred with a long, slow yawn, blinking her eyes open before she stretched in a way that immediately made Ghost’s smirk tug at the corner of his lips.

She bent forward in that classic catlike stretch, forelegs extended in front of her, haunches lifted in the air—her wings slightly flared as she moved. Her body stretched out like a feline waking up from a sun-drenched nap, the front of her body lowering to the ground while her hindquarters stayed up. It was oddly graceful, but more than that… unintentionally hilarious.

Luna, unaware at first, eventually caught Ghost's amused expression as she stood up fully and gave her mane a little toss to settle it. She looked around, saw Bonnie still asleep and using her coat as a blanket as usual, and then quietly walked over to the campfire to sit next to Ghost.

With a low voice, clearly trying not to wake Bonnie, she leaned slightly toward him and asked, “Alright, what’s that smirk for?”

Ghost kept the grin and leaned a little back. “Just funny, is all. That stretch of yours? Looked exactly like a pet cat waking up from a nap. I half-expected you to purr.”

Luna rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile that pulled at her muzzle. “Very funny, Ghost.”

“Oh, I’m not done,” Ghost said, his smirk widening. “You know… I think I finally figured out why they call you the Princess of the Moon.”

Luna arched a brow. “Because of that show of yours?”

“Nope,” Ghost said, shaking his head. “Because every time you stretch like that, you moon anyone behind you. I mean, damn, that’s one way to greet the morning—give the forest a show.”

That did it—Luna let out a snort, covering her mouth briefly with a hoof before lowering it and chuckling. “Wow. You really are something else.”

Ghost just leaned forward, elbows on knees. “C’mon, admit it—it was funny.”

“Oh, it was funny,” Luna said, shaking her head slightly, still smiling. “But for the record, that’s not why I’m called the Princess of the Moon. And also, no one’s ever behind me when I sleep, let alone when I wake up. If they are, then they’ve got a very big problem, because they shouldn’t be in my room to begin with.”

Ghost raised a brow. “You say that… but you just did it right in front of me.”

Luna scoffed. “Ghost. You’ve washed me. Twice. You’ve cleaned every inch of me—including my privates. If there’s anyone who’s earned the right to see a stretch or two, it’s you. Same with Bonnie. Honestly, I don’t give a damn if you look. You’ve seen it all. And I mean all. At this point, I trust you more than I trust anyone else, including my sister. And if you want to look, fine—knock yourself out. Hell, you want a show? I could turn around right now and lift my tail just for you.”

Ghost blinked and then snorted. “You know, I think I’ve been a terrible influence on you.”

“Oh, you definitely have,” Luna replied, smirking. “I’m cursing more, cracking lewd jokes, and clearly have no filter when I talk to you anymore. Very un-princess-like, right?”

“Extremely un-princess-like,” Ghost confirmed. “Honestly, I might have to send a letter to Canterlot about this scandal.”

Luna snorted again. “I am a princess. If I do it, then it is princess-like. Anyone who disagrees can go fuck themselves.”

Ghost stared at her, deadpan. “Yup. Terrible influence.”

Luna grinned. “The best kind of influence. Honestly, as much as it sucks being stuck out here in a forest with no castle, no bed, and no soap most of the time… this has been the most fun I’ve had in centuries. I don’t have to walk on eggshells, I don’t have to say the ‘proper’ thing every minute, and I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not. Out here, with you and Bonnie… I can just be me. Even if that version of me is a little crass and sarcastic.”

Ghost nodded slowly. “I get that. I mean, who wouldn’t want to live like that? But hey, you know what would really sell the deal?”

Luna tilted her head. “What?”

“When we finally get out of this forest and you meet Celestia again… first thing you say to her should be: ‘Sister… did your butt get bigger?’”

Luna howled, nearly tipping backward from how hard she laughed. It was sharp and unrestrained, and Ghost couldn’t help but grin like an idiot at her reaction.

“Oh my gods,” she wheezed after a moment. “You know what? I will. Just for you.”

“That’ll be a reunion for the history books,” Ghost said with a smirk. “Pretty sure your sister’s gonna lose her mind.”

“She’s gonna be so confused,” Luna agreed, still giggling. “I think she expects the same serious, regal sister from before. She has no idea what she’s getting now.”

“Think I can get her to cuss?”

Luna hummed thoughtfully. “Hmmm… that’ll be hard. She’s very proper. But you know what? With enough time around you? Yeah. I think you can break her.”

Ghost’s grin stretched just a little wider. “Challenge accepted.”

As the peaceful morning air continued to drift around the forest clearing, the campfire crackled quietly, giving off a soft warmth that danced on the edges of the early light. Ghost let out a slow breath and, without warning, leaned sideways into Luna, resting heavily against her side. The sudden shift made Luna glance down, one brow raised in confusion as her wing twitched slightly at the contact.

"Uh… Ghost?" she asked, a touch bewildered. "Why are you leaning on me?"

Ghost gave a lazy shrug, not bothering to lift his head from her side. "I’m bored. And lazy right now. Don’t feel like holding myself up. You’ll do. Besides, your fur’s soft… wings too."

Luna snorted at that, but there was amusement in her tone. "Well, I hope you enjoy it, then. You’re heavy, by the way."

Ghost just rolled his eyes and muttered, "Only you could say that to me after all we've been through."

Then Luna sighed, a soft smirk forming on her muzzle. “Only you would get away with doing something like this to a princess.”

Ghost didn’t even look up. “Luna, you know damn well I don’t give a shit about your title.”

At that, Luna actually chuckled and nodded. “Oh, I know. And honestly, that’s one of the things I love about you. You just… don’t care. You treat me like a normal pony, not a walking crown.”

Then, without another word, Luna gently lifted her wing and wrapped it over Ghost’s body like a warm, feathery blanket. Ghost blinked in surprise, not expecting the gesture, and looked up at her.

Luna smirked down at him. “There. Now you’re nice and toasty, snuggled against my side. You better appreciate this.”

He rolled his eyes again, but a small grin crept onto his face as he settled back into the warmth. He didn’t say it out loud, but yeah… it was kind of nice. The soft warmth of her body, the feeling of being wrapped in a wing—it was strange, yet comforting. Very different from military barracks or freezing nights under a camouflage tarp.

Time passed, probably about two hours by his guess. That would put it around 8:44 a.m. He hadn't moved an inch, still comfortably nestled against Luna, but now he slowly pushed her wing aside with a soft grunt.

Luna looked down at him curiously.

“Well,” Ghost said, standing up and stretching his legs, “I think it’s time to get Bonnie up. You two aren’t gonna learn any close-quarters combat skills by napping all day.”

Luna gave a nod, stifling a small yawn. “Indeed.”

Ghost walked around the fire and stood over the still-sleeping Bonnie, who remained curled up with her coat-blanket pulled tight and her tail draped around her. She looked peaceful… but that was about to end.

“Bonnie. Get up,” Ghost said flatly.

No response.

He gently kicked her side with a hoof. “Bonnie.”

A muffled groan came out. “Noooo… let me sleep more…”

Ghost frowned. Luna was giggling softly behind him, watching with clear amusement. He rolled his eyes and reached down, grabbing the coat Bonnie had wrapped around herself and yanked it off. Instantly, her body twitched at the sudden cold as her bare fur was now exposed to the morning air. Without the coat and only in her bra, it wasn’t doing much to help her stay warm—even with the fire nearby.

Bonnie's reaction? She stubbornly curled tighter and whipped her thick, fluffy tail around herself, hugging it like a blanket.

Ghost stared down at her, now visibly annoyed. “Alright, I’m done playing around.”

Without hesitation, he dropped her coat to the ground, leaned down, and suddenly forced her mouth open with one hoof. Being half-asleep, Bonnie had no idea what was happening until it was too late—Ghost shoved his other hoof and foreleg into her open mouth.

Her eyes snapped open in pure shock as a gag erupted from her throat. She sputtered and squirmed, her tail flailing behind her, trying to push him away. Ghost didn’t care. He felt the hot, wet rush of saliva all over his foreleg, her tongue instinctively trying to push his leg out, and her sharp fox-like teeth barely grazing him—but she didn’t bite. Not really. Just discomfort.

After a few seconds of making his point, Ghost pulled his leg out. Bonnie coughed and spat immediately, clearly tasting the dirt and sweat he hadn’t bothered to wash off beforehand. Her face twisted in disgust as she tried to spit out whatever filth had coated his leg.

Ghost, grinning like a smug bastard, leaned down just a bit more and cheerfully said, “Oh good morning, Bonnie.”

Bonnie glared up at him, her eyes seething, ears pinned back, and growled, “Fuck you, Ghost. You can be a real pain in the ass.”

Ghost just shrugged and calmly began rubbing his now saliva-coated leg on her belly fur, wiping off the excess spit into her soft orange-red fur just under her chest.

“I could say the same to you, Miss I-Don’t-Wanna-Get-Up. You’re just as much of a pain in the ass.”

Bonnie grumbled and groaned, not bothering to fight back, still dealing with the shock of getting a hoof shoved in her mouth first thing in the morning. She looked more disgusted than angry now as Ghost finished wiping his leg clean and moved back toward the fire.

Luna, watching the whole thing, looked deeply amused. “If you ever shove your hoof into my mouth,” she said in a warning tone, “I will bite.”

Ghost gave her a flat look and shrugged. “Then don’t act like a brat.”

Bonnie sat there grumbling softly to herself, ears low and eyes narrowed into a flat, irritated stare as she looked down at her stomach—now damp and messy from Ghost’s spit-coated foreleg. Her fur was matted and sticky, the faint glisten of moisture catching the firelight in a way that only annoyed her more. She didn’t say a word, but the sharp glare she shot toward Ghost made it very clear she was not happy.

Ghost and Luna watched as she got up, still muttering something under her breath, and stomped her way over to the river. She dipped down at the bank, cupping the water into her paw-hands and splashing it over her stomach, rubbing the mess out of her fur with visible frustration. Ghost just smirked, arms crossed, while Luna watched the entire thing with that same little amused glint in her eye, like this was all better than a play.

After a couple minutes, Bonnie returned, shaking her damp hands a little before grabbing her coat and slipping it on—not because she was cold, but more like she needed to reassert some dignity after what just happened. She sat down heavily near the fire and pouted hard, pulling her coat around her shoulders with a visible scowl and pointedly not looking at either of them.

Ghost rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Bonnie. Calm down. No need to pout like a kicked dog.”

Luna, still smirking slightly, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s just some spit. It’s not like he dunked you headfirst in the river or shoved mud down your back.”

Bonnie’s eyes slowly slid toward Luna with a glare hot enough to toast bread. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said flatly, voice sharp and dry. “Did you have someone shove their entire leg into your mouth first thing in the morning?”

Luna raised her brows, held up her hooves innocently. “Nope. But now you know not to sleep in when there’s training. Lesson learned?”

Bonnie growled under her breath and crossed her arms, refusing to answer, just letting her grumbling do the talking.

But Ghost, who had gone quiet for a moment, wasn’t looking at either of them now. His brows were furrowed slightly, his head tilted just a little, his gaze resting on Bonnie—but it wasn’t annoyance or teasing in his expression. It was distant. Thoughtful. Like something was poking at the edges of his memory and only now starting to break through.

“…Bonnie,” he said suddenly, cutting through the silence.

She blinked and looked over, still annoyed. “What?”

“You ever had a sister? Or—maybe a twin? You ever hear anything like that before?”

Both Bonnie and Luna blinked at the question. Luna tilted her head, curious. Bonnie looked more confused than anything, her ears flicking once as she sat up straighter.

“What? No. I mean—no, I don’t have a sister,” Bonnie said slowly, brow furrowing. “Why would you ask that?”

Ghost didn’t answer at first. He was staring at her in a weird way—like something had clicked just now and he was still processing it. He scratched the back of his head, then shrugged, trying to explain. “I don’t know… I was just looking at you right now, the way the firelight hits your fur, and for some reason this old memory hit me. Something from the game—Pirate101. I think I forgot all about it until now.”

Bonnie narrowed her eyes, watching him closely. “Go on…”

“There was this character. I think she was a shop-exclusive. You couldn’t get her through the normal story, just from the in-game store. Her name was Black Annie Rackham.” He paused a beat to let that sink in. “And Bonnie… she looked just like you. I mean—seriously. Same build. Same outfit style. Same kind of voice and personality too. Only difference was the name… and her fur. Hers was this deep, smoky brown color, and her clothes were all black with red trim.”

Bonnie’s jaw slowly dropped open, her ears perked high. “You’re telling me… I had a twin in the game?”

“Pretty much,” Ghost said with a nod. “I don’t remember everything, but I do remember thinking she looked exactly like you, just with a palette swap. Like, you two could’ve been sisters. Or clones. Or I don’t know—alternate versions. She even used the same kind of weapons as you.”

Bonnie looked rattled for a second. “I had no idea. I mean, in my world—no. No sister. I’m an only child. Always have been. If she existed, I would’ve known.”

Ghost shrugged again. “That’s the thing, though. In the game, she was only available if you bought her. Which means in your world—where microtransactions aren’t a thing? She probably just… doesn’t exist. Like, not at all. She was just added into the game universe, but in real life? Yeah. Probably never born.”

Bonnie stared into the fire, looking weirdly thoughtful now. “That’s… I don’t know. Kinda weird, honestly. Thinking there’s this ‘other me’ out there in a different version of my world. A version that doesn’t even exist where I’m from.” She shook her head. “But I guess it makes sense. Just another reminder that the game version and my world aren’t the same.”

Luna, watching the two of them, gave a low hum. “A mirror image that never got reflected. Hm.”

Ghost nodded, then leaned back and gave a final shrug. “Yeah. I just remembered it suddenly and figured I’d ask. Just one of those weird things the brain does. But hey—if she ever does show up somehow? You’ll know who she is now.”

Bonnie gave him a dry look. “If she does, she owes me royalty payments for copying my entire life.”

Luna smirked. “I’d pay to see that family reunion.”

Ghost leaned back slightly as he sat cross-legged near the fire, arms loosely crossed as he stared at the two. “Anyway,” he said after a beat, “moving past Bonnie’s unknown maybe-sister or maybe-paid-DLC-clone…” He gave a lazy wave of his hoof, and both Bonnie and Luna simultaneously rolled their eyes with the exact same expression of dry annoyance.

Bonnie huffed, throwing her arms up. “Thank you. Finally. About time we moved on—because after yesterday? I really hope you have something more planned than just slamming us into the ground for an hour straight. Like, I get it. We suck. But come on.”

Ghost rolled his eyes right back at her. “Yeah, yeah. I get it, drama queen. Anyways—yes, I’ve actually thought it out. I’ll be honest, neither of you are ‘trained.’ You’re both okay in a fight, yeah—but that’s because you’ve been in fights. You learned on the go. You adapted. But that’s not the same as being trained. There’s no foundation. No discipline. So…” He smirked a little. “I’m going to give you two the full basic close-quarters combat training that all cadets in my world’s military have to go through.”

That got both of their attention immediately.

Bonnie perked up and blinked. “Wait—you’re gonna give us full cadet army training? Like, the whole thing?”

Ghost shook his head firmly. “No. Just the hand-to-hand combat part. You two are not going through the full cadet program. Trust me, it’s hell. But CQC—the close-quarters stuff? Yeah. That much you can handle.”

Luna and Bonnie both nodded without hesitation, clearly not disappointed by the exclusion of the rest of the training. Honestly, after yesterday, they knew very well just how far behind they were in that area. The idea of finally getting real combat training—actual instruction—was more than enough for them.

Ghost leaned back slightly, looking from one to the other. “But there’s something I need to point out,” he said, his tone shifting slightly as he gestured toward Bonnie first. “Bonnie? You’ll be fine. I mean, you’re basically human. You’ve got fur, a tail, and a fox face, sure, but your body is close enough to a human that the mechanics line up. Fighting styles meant for humans will work for you with just minor adjustments.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes with an exaggerated sigh. “Yeah, yeah. I’m ‘basically human,’ got it. Just a fuzzy one.”

Ghost smirked and turned to Luna. “You, however…”

Luna gave him the driest deadpan stare in all of Equestria. “No really? I hadn’t noticed I wasn’t human.”

Ghost simply shrugged with a grin. “And that’s the issue. I don’t know how to train a pony to fight like a soldier. Even I only figured out how to fight in this body by adapting fast. But truth is, if I fought like I used to—as a human—I’d be a hell of a lot more effective. I’ve made it work with hooves, yeah, but that’s just adapting. I’m not at full capacity unless I can fight like this.”

With that, he stood up, rising onto his hind legs with practiced ease. His balance was steady, body posture natural—just like a biped. He even threw a few slow punches into the air, demonstrating his form and weight distribution.

Bonnie’s eyes lit up in curiosity. “Huh… that’s so weird. You actually look like you’ve always moved like that.”

Ghost gave a small nod. “Exactly. It’s natural for me. Because that’s how I lived most of my life.”

He then turned to Luna, gaze steady. “So. Here’s what I’m thinking. You may be a pony—but what’s stopping you from adapting to human-style fighting?”

Luna blinked, her expression confused but intrigued. “Wait… are you saying you want me to walk like that? On two legs?”

Ghost nodded, smirking again.

The look on Luna’s face was priceless—her eyes went wide, her jaw slightly slack as if someone had just told her she needed to fly upside down while juggling. Bonnie leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming with interest, clearly amused by the whole concept.

After a pause, Luna lifted a hoof, clearly about to object. “Okay—hold on. First off, how the hell are you even doing that? You’re a pony. Pony bodies aren’t made to handle that kind of weight on their hind legs. Your spine should be killing you.”

Ghost just shrugged. “No clue. I tried it last night while you two were sleeping. I just got curious. But it feels completely normal to me. Maybe it’s because I used to be human. Maybe it’s just how my body’s adjusted. I don’t feel any pain. No discomfort. It’s like muscle memory.”

Luna frowned, thoughtful. “Still… this shouldn’t be possible for normal ponies.”

“You’re not a normal pony, though, are you?” Ghost said pointedly. “You’re an alicorn.”

Luna blinked, processing that, then nodded slowly. “True. Alicorn physiology is… different. Our magic is stronger, yeah, but our bodies are more durable too. Stronger muscles, better endurance, denser bone structure… so yes, technically, I could walk like that. It wouldn’t be comfortable at first, but it wouldn’t injure me.”

Ghost smirked again. “Exactly. And that’s why I want you to train that way. If we can get you walking, standing, and fighting like a biped? Then I can train you in human-style combat. You’ll have access to techniques no pony in Equestria has ever used. You’d be a whole different kind of fighter.”

Luna was silent for a long moment, clearly absorbing all this. Then she exhaled slowly and rolled her eyes. “You really are a bad influence.”

Ghost grinned. “That’s not news, Luna.”

She looked back at him, one brow raised. “So. I’m supposed to walk around like a minotaur now? Try not to fall on my ass?”

“Pretty much,” Ghost said with a chuckle. “We’ll start slow. Just standing upright, getting your balance. Then we build up from there.”

Bonnie, still lounging in her coat, laughed softly. “I cannot wait to see this. This is gonna be hilarious.”

Luna groaned but smiled anyway. “Let’s just get it over with before I change my mind.”

Ghost gave Bonnie a sidelong glance, catching the mischievous look on her face as she watched Luna stretch out her limbs in preparation. “Oh, you think this is gonna be funny, huh?” he said dryly, his tone laced with just enough sarcasm to make his smirk clear.

Bonnie didn’t even try to hide it—she let out a small, smug giggle, eyes fixed on Luna as she murmured, “Oh, it’s gonna be hilarious watching her fall all over the place.”

Luna let out a huff, rolling her eyes. “Glad I can provide you with so much entertainment.”

Ghost ignored the banter and turned to Luna, getting more serious now. “Alright, let’s get to it. Now, before we actually start—don’t expect to just stand upright on your own. You’ll fall over every time at first. Best to start by using a tree for support. Something to brace against until you get used to the balance.”

Luna nodded, looking around the clearing until she spotted a sturdy tree not far from the fire. She made her way over to it with slow, steady steps, Ghost and Bonnie following along right behind her. As they walked, Bonnie looked over at Ghost and asked, “Why a tree though?”

Ghost shrugged as if the answer should be obvious. “Luna’s an alicorn. Tall. Big. Heavy.”

Bonnie snorted immediately, while Luna stopped and turned her head toward him with a narrowed glare.

“You know,” Bonnie said, her voice caught somewhere between amusement and mock offense, “you really shouldn’t talk about a girl’s weight like that.”

Ghost shrugged again, completely unbothered. “Have you seen her? Look at how tall she is. And big. That’s just facts.”

Bonnie bit back a laugh and giggled openly. Luna, meanwhile, was still staring at Ghost flatly.

“Thanks, Ghost,” she muttered, deadpan. “You really know how to make a mare feel beautiful.”

“I didn’t say you were fat,” Ghost replied, casual as ever. “I’m just saying for an alicorn, you’re probably right where you should be.”

Luna sighed, exasperated, and flicked her tail. “In fact, I’m a little skinny for an alicorn. So take that.”

Ghost just nodded. “Good to know. Anyway…” he stepped up beside her, gesturing at the tree. “You ready?”

Luna gave a quick nod and lifted her front hooves, pressing them firmly against the tree’s trunk. Slowly, she began rising onto her hind legs. As expected, she wobbled almost immediately—but Ghost was already in position. He stepped closer and placed both front hooves on her sides—just above her hips, right near the upper curve of her cutie mark. It wasn’t ideal placement, but it was the most practical for him. With Luna being significantly taller when upright, he would have had to stretch awkwardly high to reach her lower stomach or ribs. Holding her hips was the best balance of stability and comfort for both of them.

Luna didn’t even flinch at the contact—by now, their bond had made them far too comfortable with each other to care about little things like that.

Bonnie, on the other side, moved in as well. Unlike Ghost, she could easily reach Luna’s sides with her arms. She gently placed her hands along Luna’s lower ribs, steadying her as she found her balance.

For a moment, Luna stood there—upright on her hind legs, supported by both of them—her wings twitching slightly from the strange new posture. Her expression was a mix of confusion and determination.

“This feels so weird,” she muttered. “So unnatural.”

“But no pain, right?” Ghost asked, his voice calm but firm.

Luna gave a brief shake of her head. “No pain. Just… very, very not normal.”

“Good,” Ghost nodded. “That’s what training is for.”

For the next twenty minutes, Luna practiced standing upright with the help of the tree, her movements slow and deliberate. She shifted her weight from hoof to hoof, learned how to counterbalance with her wings, and got a feel for what it meant to have all her weight on her hind legs. It was awkward—but she didn’t complain.

After those first twenty minutes, she moved on to the next step: standing without the tree’s support. Ghost and Bonnie stayed on either side, catching her every time she wobbled too far. They’d shift their positions, adjust her shoulders, remind her to bend her hocks slightly—it was methodical, slow work. But she didn’t give up.

By the time a full hour had passed, Luna was able to stand on her hind legs without touching the tree or needing to lean heavily on anyone. She was still wobbly. Still unsteady. But she was upright, and standing on her own.

Ghost stepped back a few feet, watching her closely. “Alright. That’s progress. You’ll need a lot more practice before you can move, turn, or fight like that. But just being able to stand is the first step.”

Luna nodded, breathing a little heavier now, but proud of herself. “Understood. I’ll keep working on it.”

Ghost turned his attention to Bonnie next, nodding at her. “And you—you’re up. Time to start your training.”

Bonnie gave a half-nervous smile but nodded right away. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

Ghost smirked just slightly. “Good. Because now the real pain begins.”

Bonnie’s face immediately said it all—after Ghost's dramatic “the real pain begins” declaration, she stared at him with flat disbelief, clearly unimpressed and a little wary about what she was about to go through. Ghost, of course, just rolled his eyes in response.

“Oh, calm down,” he muttered, waving a hoof dismissively. “You’ll be fine. Honestly, there’s not going to be a lot of pain. At least not today.”

Bonnie didn’t look entirely convinced, and she narrowed her eyes at him like she half expected him to say, ‘Just kidding—drop and give me fifty.’ Ghost just gave another shrug, completely unbothered by her reaction.

They were still standing beside Luna, who hadn’t moved far—still focused on her own steady rhythm of practice: standing upright, shifting weight, easing herself from all fours up to her hind legs and back again. Given she wasn’t going anywhere fast, Ghost didn’t see any reason to relocate either. He wasn’t planning on having Bonnie do anything physically demanding just yet, so this spot would do fine.

“Alright,” Ghost said, turning to Bonnie, his tone more focused now. “First thing I’m going to teach you is how to stand. Properly. Where your feet go. How to hold your hands. What to do with your shoulders. No fighting today—just the basics.”

Bonnie nodded, surprisingly serious. She didn’t speak. She just gave a sharp nod and squared herself up, giving Ghost her full attention.

From that point on, the rest of the day fell into a rhythm. Luna continued with her own training, refining her balance, practicing her transitions from four legs to two. Her progress was slow but steady—by mid-afternoon, she could hold herself upright for several minutes at a time, and she had started to take careful, wobbling steps without needing to brace herself against a tree or Ghost’s side.

It was awkward. It was strange. And Luna constantly muttered under her breath about how unnatural it felt to stand like a minotaur. But she never stopped. Not once.

Meanwhile, Ghost focused entirely on Bonnie.

He started with her stance: her feet planted shoulder-width apart, toes pointed slightly outward. Then came her knees—slightly bent, never locked. Her weight had to be centered. Ghost moved around her constantly, adjusting her from every angle. He’d nudge her hips with a hoof, reposition her knees, gently grab her wrists to show her how to hold her hands up—palms open or fists depending on what he was teaching.

He even had to correct her head placement, lifting her chin just slightly to keep her line of sight forward. “You always want to see what’s coming,” he said. “No drooping your eyes. Keep that head up.”

The contact between them was near constant, but neither of them cared. Bonnie didn’t flinch once when Ghost moved in close to shift her arms, didn’t look away or make a fuss when his hoof grazed her ribs or her side. She was fully focused—entirely dialed in on learning what he was trying to teach her. There was no embarrassment, no awkwardness—just the pure, determined grit of someone who was dead set on getting better.

And Ghost could see it. She was trying. Really trying. He’d worked with fresh army recruits before, and more than a few had buckled under the pressure or given up early. Bonnie wasn’t doing that. She stayed with it—silent, focused, and intense.

He couldn’t help but respect that.

As for Luna, she’d glance over from time to time, watching the two of them work. Seeing Bonnie so focused seemed to keep her motivated too—there was a kind of unspoken competition between them, both determined not to fall behind the other.

Eventually, the sun dipped low in the sky. Then the twilight faded and stars crept into the sky overhead. The moon was nearly full, glowing gently through the tree canopy, casting a quiet silver light over the forest clearing.

By the time the fire was going again and their little makeshift camp glowed warm in the dark, it was nearly 11 p.m.—almost midnight.

Bonnie and Luna were exhausted.

Luna could now walk in a semi-straight line on her hind legs, her balance decent though not perfect. She stumbled occasionally, but her posture was improving. She could even pivot and turn—slowly—without falling over. She knew she needed at least another full day of practice before she’d be ready for anything remotely resembling combat training. But she could stand, and she could walk. That alone felt like a small miracle.

Bonnie, meanwhile, had drilled stances over and over until her legs ached. Her shoulders were sore, her wrists a little stiff, and her thighs burned. But her form was solid. She understood how to move her body now—how to plant her feet, how to ready herself, and what a proper guard looked like. She’d need days—weeks—of repetition before it became second nature. But today? Today had been a good start.

Afterward, they bathed quickly in the river—something of a routine now—and returned to camp. Ghost had caught a few fish earlier in the day, so they had a simple meal before settling down around the fire.

Ghost insisted they both sleep early, emphasizing how critical rest would be if they wanted to retain what they’d learned and improve. Neither of them argued. They were too tired to protest. Both Bonnie and Luna curled up in their usual spots—Bonnie wrapping herself in her coat, Luna laying down beside the fire, wings tucked and eyes already heavy with sleep.

Ghost sat near the fire, watching them for a while.

He smiled faintly.

“They’re doing well,” he murmured to himself, voice quiet against the crackle of flames.

He knew better than to push them too hard, too fast. This wasn’t the military—not exactly—and Bonnie and Luna weren’t soldiers. Not yet. But they were learning. They had heart. And that was more than enough.

Normally, Ghost would’ve stayed up all night, keeping watch over them out of habit and instinct. But not tonight. He couldn’t afford to run on fumes while trying to train them day after day. He needed to sleep too, whether he liked it or not.

So, before turning in, he went around the perimeter of the camp and checked the traps he’d set earlier. Small trip-lines made from vines, warning bells tied to sticks, and pressure traps made from old logs. Nothing lethal, but enough to wake him up if anything wandered too close.

Satisfied that all was in place, Ghost finally lay down on the grass near the fire and let his body relax.

The warmth of the flames, the soft sounds of breathing from Bonnie and Luna, the scent of forest air and burned wood—it was enough to lull him fast.

As his eyes slid shut, one final thought drifted through his mind:

Tomorrow’s gonna suck for them. But they’ll thank me later.

Chapter Text

Two full days had passed since Ghost began seriously training Luna and Bonnie, and by now he had a pretty solid sense of where both of them stood—and truth be told, he was genuinely happy with their progress. They weren’t elite or anything, not yet, but for what was essentially the very start of their formal combat training, he could already see the foundation starting to form.

Bonnie had been working especially hard on refining her stance. Over the last two days, she’d been drilling herself nonstop, repeating her poses, adjusting the angles of her knees, shifting weight between her feet. Ghost had noticed a few lingering mistakes—small things, mostly: sometimes her arms were held just a little too high, or her weight would shift too far forward instead of remaining centered. But it wasn’t anything severe, and more importantly, she noticed when she did it wrong. That awareness, that self-correction? That was exactly what he was looking for. It meant she was learning. Really learning.

Luna, meanwhile, had all but mastered walking upright on her hind legs. That alone was a huge accomplishment. She was smooth now—graceful, even. The early wobbles were gone, her movements steady and deliberate. Her transitions from four legs to two had become fluid and instinctive. Her wings occasionally flared for balance out of habit, but that was improving as well. Ghost couldn’t help but notice that Luna picked things up just a little faster than Bonnie. Not by a huge margin, but it was still there—maybe her time as a ruler, the natural discipline, or just the way her mind worked. Either way, she was damn good at adapting.

It was a little after 2:00 p.m. when Ghost decided to make another pass through the camp to check on both of them. Bonnie was still focused in the same clearing they’d claimed for her stance work. Ghost left her to it for the time being, deciding to shift his focus to Luna now.

Walking up to her, Ghost tilted his head slightly. “Alright, Luna,” he said casually. “Show me what you got.”

Luna looked over at him, gave a short nod, then smoothly pushed herself up onto her hind legs. The motion was practiced now—fluid. Natural. She rose without any strain or hesitation, her balance rock solid. Not a single wobble. Once she was up, she took a few steps around the clearing, her gait calm and confident.

Ghost nodded approvingly. “Good,” he said. “Looks like you’re ready to move on to the next phase—the same steps I’ve got Bonnie working on.”

Luna’s eyes brightened a little, a flash of genuine pride in her expression. She nodded, clearly pleased with herself.

“Come on,” Ghost said, motioning for her to follow. “Let’s go.”

With that, Ghost turned and began walking toward Bonnie’s section of the training clearing. Luna followed behind, walking upright on her hind legs like it was second nature now. Ghost could feel her presence just off to his right as she kept pace, and he had to admit—seeing a pony, especially Princess Luna, walking around on two legs like a damn biped warrior was surreal. And kind of cool.

Bonnie spotted them approaching and turned, still panting a little, her chest rising and falling with steady effort. Her coat had long since been discarded—between the heat, the sweat, and the constant physical exertion, wearing it was a burden. She was training now in just her pants and bra, her reddish-orange fur matted down slightly from the day’s work. Her hat was off too, set aside on a flat rock nearby.

Despite how tired she looked, there was a spark of energy in her eyes. She was determined. Focused. She smiled when she saw Luna walking toward her upright. “Hey, Luna,” she said, her voice breathy but light, “you did it.”

Luna smiled back. “Yep. Sure did.”

Bonnie nodded. “You look like you’re having fun.”

Luna chuckled softly. “I might be sweaty and sore, but yeah—I’m actually enjoying this. At first, my back and hind legs were screaming. The muscles just weren’t used to this kind of motion. But after two days, it’s already getting better.”

Bonnie nodded again in agreement. “Yeah… same here. My arms, my shoulders, even my hips—all sore as hell. But not tired-tired. Just sore from use. I guess that’s a good sign.”

Ghost glanced between the two of them, then focused back on Luna. “Alright, Luna. Let’s get to it.”

Bonnie returned to her drills, and Ghost shifted into teaching mode again. He walked Luna through the exact same foundational steps Bonnie had gone through—how to square her stance, where to place her hind legs for balance, how to hold her forelegs up in front of her body like a boxer’s guard, how to keep her back straight but relaxed. It was all about positioning. Structure. Muscle memory.

Just like with Bonnie, Ghost had to physically guide Luna into position more than a few times. He adjusted her legs, shifted her shoulders, corrected her angles. His hooves pressed against her sides, her hips, occasionally bracing her forelegs to move them into the right form. Luna, of course, didn’t flinch once. By now, they’d all been through so much—physically and emotionally—that the contact didn’t faze her at all. It was training. Just another step in the process.

The rest of the day slipped by in a haze of focused effort. Ghost remained primarily by Luna’s side now, monitoring her every move, occasionally calling over to Bonnie to correct something or guide her through a problem. But overall, they were both doing well. Very well.

Bonnie’s stance was looking tighter. More solid. She was starting to own her form now—less overthinking, more instinct.

Luna? She was catching up fast.

By the time the sun began to set and the golden twilight filled the forest, all three of them were worn down, dirty, and satisfied.

They washed up again—each one familiar now with their nightly rinse at the river—and returned to camp. They ate a simple dinner, mostly in contented silence. Even Bonnie wasn’t cracking as many jokes, not out of sulking or moodiness, but from genuine fatigue. The kind of tired that comes from a day well spent.

Afterward, they curled up near the campfire—Bonnie with her coat pulled over her, hat near her side. Luna lay nearby, already half-asleep, wings draped loosely around herself. Ghost sat quietly by the fire, watching over them both with a tired smile tugging at the corner of his muzzle.

He didn’t say anything out loud. He didn’t need to.

But the pride was there in his eyes. They’d pushed hard. And they hadn’t given up.

They were earning this.

And that was more than enough.

Two more days had rolled by, and Ghost had kept Luna and Bonnie hard at work drilling their stances. Four full days of repetitive corrections, of shifting hips, adjusting arms, refining balance—until at last, both of them had it down. Bonnie had been at it longer, and it showed; her posture was a little cleaner, her movements a little snappier, but Luna had caught up with uncanny speed. Maybe it was her discipline, maybe the way she processed instruction—but either way, Ghost could now say with confidence that they were both ready for what came next.

It was now 5:00 p.m., and the light of the day was starting to mellow into that golden pre-sunset glow. The weather was pretty much perfect—warm enough that they didn’t need a fire going, but not so hot it made training a nightmare. The breeze carried just enough coolness to cut through the heat of exertion, and the sun above cast long, soft shadows across the clearing they’d made into their training ground.

Ghost stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching both of them finish another set of practice forms. The sweat on them glistened in the sun. Luna’s midnight-blue fur was damp down her flanks and chest, sticking to her sides in patches from the work. Bonnie, too, was clearly drenched—her red-orange fur darkened by sweat across her arms, her stomach, and her face, which was slightly flushed from the constant movement.

Bonnie, notably, was panting lightly with her tongue just slightly out—something Ghost had observed before. It wasn’t just because she was tired. He'd learned over time that Bonnie, being a fox-like anthropomorphic being, panted more like a canine to regulate heat, even though she also sweated like a human. Luna, on the other hand, didn’t pant at all—she just sweat like any normal human would. Ghost found the contrast interesting, not important to their training, but a fun bit of biology worth noting. Not that he mentioned it to them. He just quietly filed it away, like a hundred other things.

Seeing they’d completed the last form, Ghost called out, “Good job, you two. You passed this part of the training.”

Luna and Bonnie both stopped mid-motion, blinking as his words settled in. They looked at him with wide eyes, and then slowly, big smiles started to spread across both their faces—real smiles, glowing with pride and accomplishment. Ghost couldn’t help but smile back.

“You two should be proud,” he said, voice steady and strong. “Yeah, this is just the beginning. We’re still right at the start of the full training plan. But you’ve both come a long way already. Be proud of what you’ve done so far.”

The joy on their faces was impossible to miss. Sure, they were sweaty, dirty, and probably a little sore, but neither of them seemed to care. That pride burned through all of it. They’d worked for this, and they knew it.

Ghost gave them a moment to enjoy the feeling, then stepped forward again. “Alright,” he said, voice shifting back into that familiar tone of instruction, “now that you’ve got your stances locked in, it’s time to move on. We’re going to start learning how to actually fight. No more guesswork. I’m going to walk you both through the right way to punch, block, dodge—everything. We’re going to take it slow. Basics first. Just like any recruit would get in real hand-to-hand combat training.”

Both Luna and Bonnie nodded seriously, a new fire lighting up in their eyes. They were ready. Maybe even excited.

Two hours passed, and Ghost took them through the fundamentals step by step. He didn’t rush anything. His goal wasn’t just to make them repeat movements—it was to make them understand them. How to keep their balance while punching, how to shift weight into a strike without opening themselves up, how to move their feet while keeping their guard, how to spot an opening, how to block without losing posture.

But as they worked, something started to bother him. A small detail that had nagged at the edge of his mind since earlier, something he hadn’t thought much of until now.

And then it clicked.

He held up a hoof sharply, cutting through the rhythm of their practice. “Hold on.”

Both Luna and Bonnie stopped, confused. Sweat dripped down their faces as they turned toward him.

“I think we need to fix something,” Ghost said. “There’s a weak point I just noticed. Something you both have in common.”

That made them pause. Luna tilted her head, and Bonnie frowned slightly.

Ghost crossed his forelegs. “Before I say what it is—do either of you know what I’m talking about? Try to think.”

Bonnie looked herself over, then glanced at Luna. Luna mirrored the motion, briefly inspecting herself and her posture, but neither of them looked any more certain than the other.

After a moment, they both shook their heads.

“No clue,” Bonnie admitted.

“Same,” Luna added.

Ghost nodded once. “Alright then. Bonnie, I need you to come at me. This isn’t a real fight—I’m not going to toss you or hit you hard. I just need to demonstrate the weak point.”

Bonnie looked slightly suspicious but nodded, stepping into a stance and exhaling once. “Okay. Show me.”

She charged forward, throwing a basic left jab. Ghost stepped to the side easily, but to his surprise, she adjusted fast, pivoting into a right swing in an attempt to catch him off guard.

He smiled at that. She was learning already. She was adapting.

But she still hadn’t spotted the weak spot.

As she followed through on her motion, Ghost ducked under her arm, slid behind her, and reached out—not for a strike, but for her tail. He wrapped a hoof around it and yanked hard.

Bonnie let out a sharp yelp of pain and surprise, her entire body twisting with the momentum as she lost balance and stumbled forward, turning with wide eyes to glare at him.

“What the hell?!”

Ghost held up a hoof calmly. “And there it is. That’s your weak point. Your tail.”

He pointed toward Luna next. “Yours too.”

Both of them blinked, then looked back at their tails.

“Bonnie, when you spun to block just now, your form was solid. Your stance was good. But your tail? Just… there. Exposed. I didn’t even need to hit you. All I had to do was grab it. And with that, I controlled your entire movement.”

Bonnie frowned deeply, one paw coming up to run down her tail.

“You have bones in yours,” Ghost continued. “It’s not just fur. It’s bone, muscle, skin, and nerves. If someone slices it off, it’s going to bleed. Bad. You could actually die from blood loss if you don’t get medical help.”

Bonnie visibly paled, staring at her tail now with more than a little unease.

Ghost turned to Luna next. “Your tail’s all hair—so losing it wouldn’t be fatal, probably. But the point still stands. It’s a vulnerable spot. Someone can grab it and pull you off balance, or use it to redirect your movement. And because it’s not something you’re trained to protect, you won’t even realize it’s happening until it’s too late.”

Luna narrowed her eyes slightly, a thoughtful frown pulling at her lips. “That… is a dangerous oversight,” she murmured. “I can’t believe we’ve never considered it. Not even once.”

“I know,” Ghost said. “I never saw a single pony soldier in the show who had anything protecting their tails. Hell, you’d think someone—griffons, dragons, anyone—would’ve figured this out by now and taken advantage of it. But nobody ever did.”

Bonnie looked down again and muttered, “Well… I’m not going to be able to ignore mine now. Damn…”

Luna gave a small nod. “It’s something I’ll need to bring up when I return to Canterlot. Tail protection may not be stylish—but I’d rather be alive and ugly than dead and regal.”

Ghost nodded. “Exactly.”

He let the silence hang for a few seconds, letting them both really feel the weight of that lesson.

“Awareness,” he finally said. “It’s the number one thing that keeps you alive in a fight. You two are doing great. But keep in mind—your enemy only needs one mistake. One blind spot. One chance.”

The lesson hung in the air like smoke from a gun. And then, quietly, the training resumed.

As the three of them stood in the open clearing with the sun beginning its slow descent behind the treetops, casting long golden beams across the forest floor, Ghost gave one last nod toward the area where he’d demonstrated the vulnerability in Bonnie’s tail and the way neither of them had considered it as a combat liability until now. He exhaled through his nose and looked at both of them steadily before adding one final, important point.

“Also,” he said, tone a little more casual but still firm, “this is a weak point for me too. I forgot about it. I didn’t even think to watch my tail. So honestly… I just learned this the same way you two did. Never had a tail as a human, so it wasn’t something I had to worry about. But now that I do…” He gave a half-shrug, glancing over his shoulder at the black-furred tail that gently swayed behind him. “I'm kinda tempted to just cut it off.”

That got an immediate reaction. Both Luna and Bonnie blinked in surprise at the suggestion, clearly not expecting him to say something so casually intense. Luna recovered first, shaking her head and stepping slightly forward.

“Ghost, that might not be something you want to do,” she said seriously, her brows pulling together a bit. “Yes, our tails are all hair. But yours still serves a purpose—balance, expression… not to mention modesty. It covers your backside. Do you really want to walk around without it?”

Ghost gave a short laugh and waved one hoof at her. “You talk like I ever go around without clothes on,” he countered, giving her a knowing smirk. “My back end’s always covered. I’ve got armor. Pants. Shirt. Boots—well, no boots now, but still. Not like anyone’s gonna be catching a glimpse of my ass.”

Luna sighed in exasperation but smiled slightly, nonetheless. “True,” she admitted, “but still. It’s part of your body now. Might be worth keeping. At the end of the day, it’s your decision, but I’d recommend against cutting it off.”

Ghost didn’t argue, but he gave a thoughtful grunt and looked down, angling his hindquarters to glance at the small slit in his pants where his tail naturally slipped through. After a beat, he reached back, guided the tail with one hoof, and shoved the entire thing into the inside of his pants, sealing it within the fabric so it no longer protruded.

“There,” he said flatly. “No tail.”

Luna rolled her eyes and gave him a dry look, while Bonnie mumbled under her breath with a huff of envy. “Wish I could just do that.”

Ghost arched an eyebrow. “Well, you can, can’t you?”

Bonnie gave a helpless shrug, gesturing with one paw toward the thick, fluffy, red-orange tail that swayed lazily behind her. “Yes, technically, I could—but my tail has bone in it. Skin, nerves, blood vessels. Shoving it down my pants would not be comfortable. It’s way thicker than yours too. Probably wouldn’t even fit right. And fluffier.” She gave her tail a flick for emphasis.

Ghost hummed in acknowledgment. “Yeah, fair point. So either you learn to keep it out of the way, or you figure out how to weaponize it properly.”

Bonnie looked at him, blinking. “Weaponize it?”

Without another word, Ghost stepped forward and reached out, gently wrapping a hoof around her tail near the base—not yanking, not tugging, just feeling the texture and heft of it. He swung it slightly from side to side, testing the weight and how it moved through the air. Bonnie gave him a deadpan look the entire time.

“Having fun?” she asked dryly.

Ghost ignored her entirely, letting her tail go before taking a step back. “Swing it at me.”

“…What?” Bonnie blinked, tilting her head in confusion.

“Your tail. Swing it. At me. I want to see what kind of force it has.”

Still looking baffled, she hesitated, then slowly turned and whipped her tail around. It slapped against his side with a fwump, nothing painful but definitely solid. He barely flinched.

“Again,” Ghost said. “Harder.”

Bonnie frowned slightly, adjusted her footing, and this time spun her hips, putting more force into the swing. The tail lashed through the air, creating a gust of wind that visibly ruffled Ghost’s vest as it passed him. His eyes narrowed with interest.

“There it is,” he said. “You’ve got something here. That wasn’t a weak swing. You’re not going to knock someone out with it, obviously, but if you swing that tail hard enough, you could definitely knock someone off balance. Maybe even trip them. Especially if they’re not expecting it.”

Bonnie looked at her tail with new appreciation, flicking it once again in the air and watching how it moved. “Huh. I’ve never thought about using it like that.”

Luna nodded from the side, arms crossed. “You and I aren’t the same there, Bonnie. My tail’s all hair. Even if I wanted to use it like that, it’d just whip around like a wet mop. Yours actually has weight. Leverage.”

Ghost stepped forward again, placing a hoof back on Bonnie’s tail. “Here—pull it. Try to yank it away from me.”

Bonnie gave him a quick glance, then nodded and yanked her tail with a hard jerk. Ghost managed to hold on, bracing his stance against the pull.

“See?” he said. “If someone grabs it, you’ve still got leverage. Use your hips. Twist. Throw them off.”

Bonnie nodded thoughtfully, and this time, with a smirk playing across her muzzle, she twisted her torso and yanked hard, trying to throw Ghost off balance. But Ghost, ever prepared, simply let go at the right moment.

The tail whipped wide and crack! smacked directly into Luna’s flank with a sharp flick of wind and fur.

“YEEP!”

Luna yelped in surprise, stumbling slightly as she jerked her head around to glare in shock.

Bonnie’s eyes widened in horror. “OH—Luna! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to—!”

Luna blinked, then rubbed the spot with a hoof, wincing. “It’s alright,” she said after a second. “I know you didn’t mean it. But damn, your tail’s got some serious power. That stung.”

Bonnie sheepishly smiled, while Ghost just chuckled.

“Yep. There’s potential in it,” he said, nodding toward Bonnie. “But first, before you start turning it into a weapon, you’ve gotta train yourself to keep it safe. Tuck it in. Be aware of it. If someone gets a grip on it, you’re giving them control over your entire balance.”

Bonnie nodded, eyes narrowing with determination.

“And that,” Ghost added with a smirk, “was probably the most insightful thing I’ve figured out today.”

Luna chuckled, rubbing her rear once more. “Insightful and painful.”

“Effective either way,” Ghost muttered, eyes gleaming with thought as the lesson sank in.

Ghost gave a short sigh, more amused than exasperated, and rolled his shoulders as he nodded toward the open patch of dirt where they'd been training all day. “Alright,” he said, his tone calm and direct as always. “Let’s get back to training. We’ll figure out how to keep your tails protected later. No point in trying to solve a problem right now when I haven’t even finished training you. If your tails end up moving in ways that don’t match with the style I’m teaching, then it’s just wasted effort figuring that stuff out too early.”

Both Luna and Bonnie nodded at that, and Ghost could see on their faces that they understood his logic. He then gave a small, slightly crooked smile. “Also... I got no damn clue how to keep your tails safe anyway, so that’s gonna be on you two to figure out. It’s your tail—learn it.”

Luna gave a soft, amused snort and tilted her head toward him, her voice dry but fond. “I’d honestly be surprised if you did know how. After all, you didn’t even have a tail before.”

Bonnie gave a little nod and a chuckle. “Yeah, but still—I'm happy you think the way you do, Ghost. You point out a lot of things we’d never think of. Stuff that’s obvious when you say it, but we just… never considered it.”

Luna added her agreement with a smile. “Exactly. You’ve made us see ourselves differently.”

Ghost just gave a nonchalant shrug, his expression unreadable but his tone as dry as ever. “Whatever.”

---

Time skip: Three weeks later.

Three long, sweaty, grueling weeks had passed, and by now, Ghost could confidently say he was impressed. Bonnie and Luna had come a long way—further than he expected. He’d spent the entire time drilling them nonstop with basic close-quarters combat—no fancy tactics, no advanced technique, just raw, grounded, practical hand-to-hand military fundamentals. But it had worked. Better than he’d hoped.

It was now 1:00 PM, the sun filtering down through the thick canopy overhead, casting bright golden stripes over the soft dirt floor of their makeshift training ground. The weather was decent—warm, not blazing, but no chill in the air either—pleasant enough that no fire was needed, though both Luna and Bonnie were drenched in sweat all the same.

Ghost sat nearby, one leg crossed over the other as he leaned back slightly with his forelegs behind him, watching silently as the two sparred for what had to be the twelfth or thirteenth time that day. They were fast, fluid, precise. Luna, who now walked on her hind legs like it was second nature, dodged a jab from Bonnie and countered with a swift hook that Bonnie blocked. The movement was clean—professional, even. Ghost smiled to himself. They were getting it.

Bonnie, now practically always training in just her pants and bra, had long since ditched her coat and hat during these sessions. Her fur glistened under the sun, and her red tail twitched slightly as she moved. She was focused—serious. And despite being drenched in sweat and clearly tired, she was holding her own. Her muscles were more toned now, her form tighter, more controlled.

Luna, meanwhile, was nearly unrecognizable from the mare he’d first met. Tall as ever, regal even while sweaty and tired, she moved with strength and grace, balancing on her hind legs without any wobbles now. Her midnight-blue fur was damp and clung slightly to her limbs and chest, but she never faltered, never slowed. Her strikes had power and intent.

Ghost’s eyes narrowed with pleased scrutiny as the spar came to its close—Luna swept low, took advantage of Bonnie’s center of gravity shifting mid-dodge, and slammed her softly into the dirt. Not hard—just enough to pin her.

Bonnie grunted with a small huff but didn’t look angry—instead, a tired grin spread across her muzzle. “Good job,” she muttered with a pant, giving Luna a nod of respect.

Luna smiled faintly and extended a hoof, helping Bonnie up as the two of them stood there panting, their chests rising and falling with exhaustion but satisfaction in their eyes.

Ghost stood, brushing a little dust from his fur. “Alright,” he called, his voice carrying easily across the small clearing. “You two can stop.”

Both of them blinked and looked at him. He saw their expressions twitch—confused for a second.

“What I mean is…” Ghost smirked. “You passed.”

Silence.

Total silence.

Both Luna and Bonnie just stared at him for several long seconds as the words slowly processed. Then he watched the exact moment realization hit.

Bonnie’s eyes went wide, her ears perked up, and her mouth dropped open.

Luna blinked fast, then took a step forward as her pupils widened.

“Wait…” Bonnie said, almost breathless. “We passed? We’re done? We… we did it?!”

Ghost nodded with that same small smirk. “Yeah. You did.”

And then came something he was absolutely not ready for.

A squeal.

A high-pitched, unholy, girlish squee that seemed to erupt from both of them at once.

Bonnie jumped with glee, tail swishing behind her, arms raised. “We did it!!”

Luna actually—actually—jumped a little on her hind legs and threw her forelegs around Bonnie, laughing with genuine joy.

They hugged each other tightly, hopping like fillies at a fair. The noise coming out of them was like nails on a chalkboard to Ghost’s ears—not because he hated it, but because it was so unexpected. So not what he ever imagined seeing from either of them.

He blinked slowly, stunned for a second, just watching this bizarrely adorable display of raw happiness. He never thought he’d see Luna—the alicorn of the night, formal, stoic, composed—practically squealing with joy and hugging someone like a schoolfilly. And Bonnie—proud, sharp-tongued Bonnie—actually giggling like a dork and jumping in circles?

He shook his head slowly, but the smirk returned to his face anyway.

“Yeah…” he muttered under his breath, watching them twirl and hug and beam with joy. “You two earned it.”

Ghost had been content to just sit and watch their overjoyed celebration, letting Luna and Bonnie bask in the moment. But he quickly realized he wasn’t going to be left out of it—not when the two of them suddenly turned their gleaming, ecstatic eyes on him with matching grins that had “ambush” written all over them. He had exactly one second to brace before they both launched at him, throwing their sweaty, sweet-smelling bodies against his in a double-tackle of pure, unfiltered affection.

“Oof—!” was all Ghost could get out before the breath was knocked from him as he hit the ground.

Both Luna and Bonnie were hugging the hell out of him, arms wrapped tight around his sides and back, squeezing him like he was the last warm blanket on a freezing night. He sighed—exasperated but not annoyed—and let them cling to him. Hell, it was a happy day, even if they were drenched in sweat and smelled like they'd just run laps around a football field.

He lifted his forelegs and hugged them both back, one arm over Bonnie’s back and the other curled lightly behind Luna’s shoulders. The second he returned the hug, their joy seemed to double, and suddenly they were pulling on him harder—way harder. His body shifted slightly between them, unintentionally being yanked in two directions like some kind of living rope in a tug-of-war.

And then, the incident happened.

Ghost’s brow furrowed as he suddenly felt himself pressed against something soft—very soft.

Bonnie’s body.

Specifically, Bonnie’s boobs.

And unfortunately for Ghost, it was not just a little bump or brush. No. Bonnie was only wearing her bra during training—something that left the tops and sides of her breasts more exposed, much like a V-cut shirt would on a human girl. And now, thanks to the unintentional force of their excited, shifting hug, Ghost’s face—his pony face—was now smack dab between them.

The long, narrow shape of his muzzle made things so much worse.

The side of his cheek and jaw was pressed against the outer swell of her right breast. The left side of his muzzle—his snout and even the side of his lips—were pressed deep into the inner curve of her left boob, which her bra didn’t fully cover. The fur on her chest was soft, thick, and warm, but it did nothing to hide the fact that part of her actual breast had been pushed slightly into his mouth.

Ghost’s eyes widened in horror as he tried to speak—and that was when things really crossed the line.

He opened his mouth to yell something—probably a muffled “Let me go!”—but as his jaw moved, the skin and fur that had been pressed into the gap slid deeper, and—

His tongue moved.

It wasn’t on purpose. It wasn’t wanted. But it happened.

His tongue involuntarily brushed against the fur and bare skin of her exposed breast, just enough to register a distinct taste—salty with sweat, warm, soft. And very, very real.

He had just, against his will, licked Bonnie’s boob. Even if it was the tiniest, most accidental swipe in the history of humanity and ponykind… it still happened.

Ghost’s entire face turned bright red.

His ears twitched straight up. His muscles locked. He stared ahead in paralyzed disbelief as both Luna and Bonnie giggled, oblivious to the very compromising position they had accidentally shoved him into.

Then Luna and Bonnie did look down—and they saw.

Bonnie’s face flushed instantly, her eyes going wide as saucers, and Luna’s pupils shrank before she snorted—and the giggling turned into full-blown laughter. Bonnie’s expression was a chaotic mix of embarrassment, horror, and the kind of helpless hysteria that came from witnessing the impossible.

Ghost growled low through gritted teeth, his blush only deepening. “Stop. Let me go—dammit, this is NOT a reward I asked for or need.”

That only made them laugh harder. They finally let go of him, rolling off to the sides as Ghost sat up quickly and gasped for air, his chest heaving slightly.

“Holy shit,” Bonnie wheezed, wiping a tear from her eye, “I am so—so sorry! We didn’t even notice! We were just so happy and—oh my god!” She slapped a paw to her muzzle, snorting with uncontrollable laughter. “Ghost’s face was just— right between ‘em!”

Luna couldn’t stop giggling either, even as she tried to compose herself. “You were blushing! That’s the first time I’ve seen you really, really blush! I didn’t think it was possible!”

Ghost, ears flattened and muzzle burning red, huffed and looked away. “No shit, Luna…”

Bonnie, still chuckling and looking a little guilty now, tilted her head. “But seriously, Ghost… why did you blush? I mean, you’ve seen me naked before. You cleaned me, touched me, all of it. And you never blushed then.”

He grunted, trying to shake the fluster away. “I don’t know.”

But Luna’s expression shifted, something thoughtful behind her eyes. “No… I think I do.”

Ghost looked at her, one brow raised slightly.

“I think,” Luna said, tapping her chin, “you’re finally letting your guard down. Just a little. After everything we’ve been through… you’re starting to relax around us. To feel safe. You’re not just being the soldier anymore. You’re being… you.”

Bonnie blinked at that and turned her head to Ghost. “You think that’s it? I mean, yeah, you never really act like a normal guy. You’re always calm, collected, like nothing ever gets to you. But today…” She smirked. “You turned bright red. That was the real you peeking out.”

Ghost was quiet for a moment, eyes lowered, processing. After a beat, he exhaled and nodded. “Maybe… I guess I am.” He looked at his hoof, flexed it a little, then let it drop to the grass. “Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

Then he looked up at them, frowning. “Thanks, though. For getting your sweaty, stinky bodies all over me.”

Luna and Bonnie beamed, their smiles radiating nothing but teasing affection as they spoke in unison:

“You’re welcome!”

Ghost glared at them both, eyes narrowing as he quickly pulled his composure back together. The deep blush across his muzzle had already faded, much to the obvious disappointment of Luna and Bonnie—especially Luna, who let out a tiny groan when she saw the color leave his face so fast.

With a sharp sigh, Ghost pushed himself up, brushing a hoof against the side of his muzzle like he was trying to physically scrape the last remnants of embarrassment off. “Well, now I need to go clean up,” he muttered dryly, glancing down at himself with visible disgust. “Get all this sweat and stink off me… and then scrub my mouth clean of the taste of Bonnie’s boob.”

That brought everything to a full stop.

Luna and Bonnie both froze in place, the shift in atmosphere immediate and deafening. Even the wind seemed to pause for a second. Bonnie blinked once. Then again. Then finally spoke, slowly, like her brain was still buffering.

“I’m sorry—my what?”

Ghost didn’t even look at her as he turned his head halfway back with the deadest, flattest expression he could muster. “Um. Hello?” he said, voice as dry as dust. “Did you miss what just happened? I was smashed up against your boobs. Thanks to you and Luna hugging me like wild animals, and because I now unfortunately have a pony muzzle, my snout was practically buried in your chest. And let’s not pretend your bra hides everything—because it doesn’t. My mouth was shoved against your bare skin. And guess what? When I opened my mouth to yell at you two? Yeah, part of your boob—fur and skin—got inside. And because I talked?” He tapped his own muzzle, visibly irritated. “Tongue moved. I licked it. Congratulations. I’ve now, accidentally, licked your boob.”

Silence.

Silence so deep it felt like the universe took a breath and held it.

Then—

“Pffft—BAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Luna lost it.

She collapsed to her side in the grass, hooves kicking wildly as she howled with laughter, gasping for air between each wheezing breath. Her face was beet red, tears forming at the corners of her eyes as she tried and failed to speak through her cackles. “You—licked—her—BOOB—!! Oh my STARS—”

Bonnie, on the other hoof, just sat there, utterly frozen. She stared at Ghost with a look that fell somewhere between scandalized and stunned. A bright blush crept over her muzzle and the tips of her ears, flickering up fast like someone lit her face on fire.

“Oh,” she said finally, ears twitching. “Um… I didn’t notice… that happened. Uh… I’m… really sorry, Ghost. Really.”

Ghost, sighing like a man who just lived through the worst kind of awkward, shook his head and waved a hoof dismissively. “Whatever. It happened. Just—let’s move on.”

He turned and started walking toward the river, still grumbling under his breath as he made his way through the grass, ears pinned back slightly.

But of course, Luna wasn’t done.

“Did she taste good?!” she called after him with a wicked grin.

Ghost stumbled slightly mid-step and froze.

Bonnie’s head snapped toward Luna so fast it was a miracle she didn’t sprain something. “LUNA!!” she shrieked, completely mortified. Without even hesitating, she reached over and smacked Luna on the back of the head with a loud thwap.

“Shut up! That’s not something you ask! It wasn’t on purpose!”

Luna was too busy cackling to care. She rolled over, shielding her head with her hooves, laughing so hard she could barely breathe. “Oh come on,” she wheezed. “Ghost got a taste of a girl’s boob—your boob—and he’s complaining about it?! I don’t care how small it was, it still counts! He tasted it! I wanna know if he liked it!!”

“You do NOT need to know how my boob tastes!!” Bonnie yelled as she started smacking Luna again, repeatedly, her face a glowing red mess of embarrassment and frustration.

Ghost, by this point, was long gone—well, physically he was still walking slowly toward the river, but mentally he had launched himself into the stratosphere. He tuned out the chaos behind him with practiced military numbness, muttering under his breath as he trudged toward salvation.

“God… just let this day end already.”

POV: Bonnie

I stood there, arms crossed, tail flicking with irritation, glaring at Luna with every bit of annoyance I could muster. She’d finally stopped giggling like a lunatic, but that smirk still stuck to her muzzle like glue—and by the stars, it was driving me insane.

She gave me this sideways glance, all smug and full of herself, and said with way too much amusement in her voice, “So, I really don’t get how you didn’t notice he was on your boobs.”

I let out a heavy, frustrated sigh, my ears twitching in pure disbelief that we were still talking about this. “I was super excited, okay? I didn’t notice. Not like you did either!”

Luna shrugged, cool as ever. “It wasn’t my boobs, so no, I didn’t notice. But come on, Bonnie—he licked your boob. Even if it wasn’t on purpose. That’s... kind of a big deal. And you’re telling me you didn’t even feel that? There had to be a little wet spot, right?”

I stared at her, deadpan, unimpressed. “Luna, we were both covered in sweat and gross from our mock fight. You really think I noticed one little wet spot on my boob? And it was tiny. Like, tiny. So no. I didn’t notice. At all.”

Luna just gave another nonchalant shrug, totally unbothered by my perfectly reasonable explanation. “Well,” she said with that damn smirk returning, “your boobs at least did something worthwhile—you got a blush out of him.”

I groaned, dragging a paw down my face. “That’s not exactly the achievement I wanted, Luna. I was fine not having that happen, thanks.”

She chuckled, then gave me this cheeky little side glance. “So you’re saying you’re not happy about him getting a nice feel of your chest and a little taste, hmm?”

I deadpanned again. “No. And considering I was sweaty and exhausted, I bet it didn’t even taste that great. So no, I’m not happy about it.”

Luna chuckled, brushing her mane back with a hoof. “I got no clue how it tasted,” she said lightly. Then her eyes wandered down to my chest and stayed there, just a little too long. “But hey—at least your boobs are a good size. Also, your bra really doesn’t cover a lot.”

I looked down and, yeah… she wasn’t wrong. The V-shape of my bra left the inner curves of my breasts clearly exposed—plenty of skin and fur on display, especially from the top down. It was my only bra, though. And I liked it. It was comfortable.

I sighed, resigned. “They’re comfy. I like them. Also, I didn’t exactly get tossed into this world with a spare wardrobe. I guess I just got used to being… y’know, somewhat naked around him. Doesn’t really matter anymore.”

Luna gave a little nod, her expression shifting from teasing to curious. “So… how’re your feelings doing?”

I blinked. “What?”

“Your feelings,” she repeated, tone softer. “Last time we talked, we both admitted to having little crushes on him. Is it different now? Deeper?”

I went quiet. I really thought about it.

“Um…” I muttered after a long moment. “If I’m being honest… yeah. I think I really am falling for him. Not like I’m in love yet, but… the crush? It’s deeper. It’s definitely not shallow anymore.”

Luna nodded, expression thoughtful. “I think I’m the same,” she said. “So it seems we’re slowly falling for him. For real.”

She gave me a sidelong glance. “If we do fall all the way… I’m still fine sharing him. If you are.”

I blinked, surprised for a moment—but only for a moment. Because deep down, I already knew my answer.

“I’ve never shared a guy before,” I admitted slowly. “Normally, that’d be a hard no. But… with you?” I looked at her, and smiled. “I’m fine with it. If it happens.”

Luna nodded again, smiling softly, the moment strangely sweet between us.

Then she sniffed herself. And winced.

“Let’s go,” she said, ears tilting back a bit. “We stink. We really need to wash up.”

I nodded in total agreement and turned toward the river, walking beside her with a little sigh. “Yeah… my sweat’s got sweat. Let’s clean off before Ghost gets back and makes some sarcastic comment.”

Luna chuckled. “Too late. I’m pretty sure he’s already planning one.”

As I started following Luna toward the river, she glanced over at me with a thoughtful expression, one ear angled back as if mulling something over. “Also,” she said, “I’m kinda shocked—but I guess kinda not—when he said he licked your boob. You didn’t hit him or anything. I mean, I know it was fully an accident and kinda our fault, but any girl I know? No matter what? If a dude licked their boobs, they’d get one hell of a smack.”

She paused for a beat, watching me out of the corner of her eye. “And yes, I know he washed us and all that, but that was different. He cleaned us because we needed it, helped us when we couldn’t even move. But your boob got licked?”

I just shrugged. “Well… normally, you’re right. If a guy—or girl, or anyone really—ended up licking my boob like that, no matter what? Oh, hell yes, I’d smack them. Real hard. I’d make it real clear what gender they’re in now after pulling a stunt like that.”

Luna smirked, but I kept going, not done yet. “But Ghost? Like you said—it was kinda our fault. Also, I trust him. And you do too. He didn’t do it on purpose or anything. And it is my fault for hugging him while only wearing a bra. I mean, what girl does that and doesn’t expect some kind of contact?”

I glanced down at myself, sighing. “And the lick was so tiny I didn’t even notice it happened. Honestly? That’s what I’m happy about—not the lick, but the fact he told me about it. I didn’t notice it, but he still told me. He didn’t hide it, didn’t pretend it didn’t happen. He was honest. So in the end, if he’s willing to move on, then I should too.”

I looked over at Luna. “I mean, if that happened to you—would you hit him?”

She took a moment, eyes narrowing in thought, then shook her head. “If it happened the same way it did with you? No. I wouldn’t.” Then her lips curled into that smirk again. “But… did you hate it?”

I blinked. “Huh?”

“I mean,” she said, smirk deepening, “we are falling for him. And he did lick your boob. So it must’ve gotten a reaction from you, right? Did you like it? Happy he did it or something?”

I gave her a deadpan stare. “How could I like it if I didn’t even notice or feel it? If anything, I’m horrified he licked my boob. Not because it was him, but because of how sweaty and dirty I was when it happened. So no—I do not feel good about it. But I’m not mad at him either.”

Luna nodded slowly, smirk still playing on her face. “Sooo… you’re saying if it was another time, you’d be fine with him licking your boob?”

I huffed. “You know what? I’m not answering that until you tell me if you’d let him lick your boobs, Miss I’m-going-to-tease-Bonnie-all-day. I swear, you’re like some gossip-happy mare with nothing better to do.”

Luna rolled her eyes, laughing. “Believe it or not, I’m not a gossip type. Unless it’s with friends or family—and then only if it’s all in good humor and fun.” Then she gave me a knowing look. “And to answer your question? Maybe. Depends on what’s going on and why.”

She looked up at the sky. “As of now? No, I wouldn’t just let him lick my boobs. But later down the line, if we get closer? Then yes. I might. But if it was a life or death thing? Then without a doubt.”

I stared at her, mouth a little open, and she just kept going. “Hell, Bonnie, if him doing that could save our lives, I’d have sex with him right now. And that says a lot, because I’d rather die than sleep with someone under normal circumstances. But let’s be real—that kind of situation? Not gonna happen. No life-or-death thing’s going to require that.”

She turned to me again. “Now you answer my question. If it was another time… would you let him lick your boob?”

I stared at her with wide eyes, fully processing the barrage of unexpected honesty she’d just dropped. But finally, I sighed. “You know… honest? Kinda.”

Luna raised a brow. “What do you mean, kinda?”

I shrugged again, glancing to the side. “I mean like… mess with him. Would I let him full-on lick them? No, I wouldn’t. But mess with him using my boobs? Yes. Oh yeah. Little ‘accidental’ bumps here or there, y’know?”

Luna let out a cackle. “You’re evil.”

I smirked right back. “Gotta play hard to get, after all.”

Then my smirk faded into a more thoughtful look. “But all the other stuff you pointed out? Yeah. Same with you. If it was a life or death thing? Yeah. I’d fuck him.”

We both went quiet for a second, still walking side-by-side.

Then I laughed under my breath. “But like we said—that kind of thing’s not gonna happen. So… I think we’re good.”

Luna nodded. “Yeah. We’re good.”

POV: Ghost

The river water was cool but not freezing, just enough to help wash away the last of the sticky sweat and lingering scent from Luna and Bonnie that’d rubbed off on me during their overenthusiastic victory hug. I was scrubbing at my arms and chest with a bit more focus than usual—still trying to mentally bleach the memory of Bonnie’s damn boob brushing against the inside of my mouth. It was accidental, yeah, but still. I could practically feel her fur and that bit of exposed skin on my tongue even now. Gross? Not really. Embarrassing as hell? Definitely. I sighed through my nose and ducked my head under to rinse my face one more time.

I surfaced and blinked water out of my eyes just in time to spot movement from the corner of my vision. Turning my head, I saw Luna and Bonnie walking toward the river, clearly still chatting, though I couldn’t hear what the hell they were whispering about.

They looked smug. That alone made me wary.

As they got closer, I raised a brow at them and called out, “You done talking and finally going to clean up at last?”

Luna rolled her eyes, smirking faintly. “Yeah, we are. Me and Bonnie were just having some girl talk, that’s all.”

I grunted, scrubbing behind my ears. “Yeah, no thanks. I don’t need to know.”

Luna stepped into the river first, sighing softly as the water reached her chest. She started washing up like normal—methodical, unbothered by the chill. Bonnie, meanwhile, stripped down like it was the most casual thing in the world. Off went the pants, bra, and underwear in a few easy motions, and then she walked straight into the water, not a care in the damn world. She didn’t even look at me.

Not that I stared, either. Hell, by this point I was used to it. After several weeks of training and them bathing with me almost daily, seeing Bonnie fully nude didn’t even register anymore. It was normal. Just like seeing Luna, who never wore clothes to begin with—not that it mattered. Her fur and tail always kept her modest, not that she seemed to care either way.

Still, we always kept a respectful distance when bathing. Not super far—just enough to give some space. Close enough to talk, not close enough to accidentally brush elbows or tails.

I leaned back slightly, letting the river water lap at my shoulders while they got settled. After a moment, I asked casually, “So, you two are done with my training. You plan to figure out how to keep your tails safe now?”

That earned a pause from both of them.

I glanced between the two as they exchanged a quick look, clearly realizing they’d completely forgotten about it until now. My eyebrow went up.

After a second of silence, Bonnie broke it. “Um… I guess I’ll start working on that,” she admitted, rubbing behind one ear. “I really don’t wanna die because someone yanked my tail or chopped it off. I don’t even want to know how that feels. I have a feeling it’d be insanely painful. So yeah… I’ll work on that later today.”

I nodded once. Good answer.

Luna followed up. “I’ll do the same. I’ll figure something out today too. But honestly? I think I’ll just keep my tail between my hind legs, over my stomach. That’s probably the best I can do for now.”

“Not a bad idea,” I said. “It’s something, at least.”

Then I remembered another detail and looked over to Luna again. “Oh yeah—also, don’t forget you need a counter if someone tries to slide under you.”

Luna blinked, then nodded seriously. “Thanks for reminding me. I’ll make sure to work on that as well.”

That was that. No more jokes, no more drama. Just three people getting clean in a river like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The rest of the washing went on peacefully, the only sounds being the splash of water, the soft murmurs of fur being scrubbed, and the occasional breeze rustling the trees around us.

After the chaos of everything else lately… this moment of quiet felt good.

Ghost watched with arms crossed and an unimpressed frown etched into his face, eyeing Bonnie as she stood near the trees just outside their riverside clearing, shifting awkwardly on her feet while wrestling with her ridiculously fluffy tail. Two hours had passed since their bath, and while Luna had figured out her tail situation easily enough—tucking it between her hind legs, flattening it along her stomach whether she was on four legs or walking upright—Bonnie was in a much tougher spot.

Her tail, unlike Luna’s, wasn’t all hair. No, hers had bones, skin, blood… it was living anatomy, not a tuft. She’d already tried tucking it down one of her pant legs but gave up quick when she realized just how much trouble that was—pulling her pants halfway down just to wedge the thing in, only to have it feel tight and uncomfortable. And yeah, Ghost could imagine how that could get real awkward, real fast. Flashing your ass to the world in a combat situation wasn’t exactly a winning move.

Now she was trying a different method—curling the tail flat against her back, hugging it up along her spine and over her shoulder like some kind of weird scarf. Ghost sighed and finally started walking toward her, already knowing this wasn’t going to work.

“Bonnie,” he said as he approached, “that’s not going to cut it. Holding your tail against your back’s better than just letting it flap around behind you, but it can still be grabbed—especially if someone gets behind you.”

Bonnie sighed and nodded, clearly frustrated. “Yeah, I know. But what else can I do? I can’t just stuff it down my pants—not without pulling them down every time, and I’d rather not flash the entire damn forest. And if we’re caught off guard? I won’t have time anyway.”

Ghost gave a slow nod, understanding the problem. “Yeah… if you’ve got prep time before a fight, that’s one thing. In an ambush? Forget it.”

Bonnie was quiet a moment, then glanced over her shoulder at him. “Could you try doing it? Like, shove my tail down my pants from the back? I know it’s not ideal, but if it’s faster with someone else doing it—like you or Luna—then at least we’d have a backup method when we’re together.”

Ghost raised a brow. “You sure?”

“I know it’s not the best idea,” Bonnie said, ears twitching a bit in irritation, “but it’s hard for me to do it. I can’t reach back there properly without twisting up my whole body. If someone else can pull my pants a little open and get it in fast, it’s better. I can keep watch, too—make sure nobody’s sneaking up on us while it’s happening.”

Ghost shrugged. “All right, worth a try.” He stepped behind her, reached out, and grabbed her tail near the base—carefully, not hard or anything. “All right, angle it downward more. Last thing I want to do is force it in against the joint wrong.”

Bonnie adjusted her stance and tilted her tail down along her back. “Okay. Ready.”

Ghost nodded and reached down with one hoof, grabbing the waistband of her pants and tugging it outward, trying to make a small enough gap to slide the tail in. Bonnie braced herself, planting her feet solidly against the ground to avoid being yanked off balance.

The tip of her tail went in easily enough, but as Ghost tried to push more of it down, the fluffy middle portion started to get stuck. Her pants were tight. Really damn tight.

“Not gonna happen,” Ghost muttered, brow furrowing as he kept pushing, now having to use both hooves. “Your pants are too tight—this fluff’s just not going in like this.”

Bonnie grumbled, then reached down and unbuttoned the front of her pants, loosening the waistband. “There—try now.”

Ghost nodded again and gave it another shot. This time, the pants gave way enough to open a gap, and he managed to stuff the rest of her tail in carefully. Once it was done, the tail was wedged down the back of her pants, following her spine, and the thick fluff bulged the fabric slightly but stayed put.

Bonnie frowned, reaching back to feel the result. “Okay… that works, but I still need help doing it. Plus, I had to unbutton my pants. Sure, it’s faster than pulling them down, but it still takes time and leaves me open.”

Ghost gave a short nod. “Yeah, if me or Luna are there, we can help—cover each other. But if you’re on your own, you’re back to square one.”

Bonnie let out a sigh and glanced down at her hips. “Kinda wish my pants weren’t so tight… but the thing is, I have to wear tight pants. My sides and hips are pretty narrow, and if they’re loose, they’ll just fall off when I move. If there was some way to make ‘em just a little looser while still staying up…”

“Not much of a solution,” Ghost agreed. “Still, might be something to explore—different fabric, maybe? Belt adjustments? We’ll figure it out later.”

Bonnie nodded slowly. “You know, I could just tuck it up the back of my coat…”

“Yeah, but your tail would have to stay raised the whole time,” Ghost pointed out. “You’d get tired eventually. You have to hold it up, right?”

“Exactly,” Bonnie said. “I can’t keep it up forever. That’s why I want to find a good way to get it in my pants—without flashing the woods or spending a minute doing gymnastics every time.”

Ghost rubbed his temple, muttering, “This is a surprisingly annoying problem…”

It really was. Of all the things to give them trouble—tail placement. And yet, it mattered. A lot. If someone grabbed Bonnie’s tail mid-fight, they could twist her around, drop her, throw her off balance… hell, cut it off, and she'd bleed out.

They had to figure this out. But for now, Ghost backed off, letting Bonnie keep experimenting with the new position—tail tucked, pants slightly loosened. She looked uncomfortable, but it was better than nothing. Temporary fix, maybe. But it was a start.

Bonnie let out a heavy sigh, her tail twitching behind her as she reached back and tugged it free from her pants. She fumbled for a moment as the fluffy end snagged slightly, then smoothed it down and buttoned her pants back up with a small grunt of frustration. Once secure again, she turned her head just enough to glance at Ghost.

“Ghost,” she said with a flat but determined tone, “I know you were pulling hard, but you could’ve pulled way harder. Like, a lot more. If you’re trying to help me test if this’ll actually work, then you’ve gotta go all out. I mean it. You’re not gonna break me. Yeah, my tail’s more fragile than, say, an arm or something, but it’s not made of glass. You can use way more force pulling it and trying to get it shoved in. If you actually do hurt me, I’ll tell you. But if we’re going to see if this could really work in a combat situation? You can’t go easy. You’re not going to have time to be gentle.”

Ghost arched a brow, tilting his head just a little in surprise at her bluntness, but he nodded. “You sure?”

Bonnie nodded right back, confident. “Yeah. Let’s try one more time. But really try this time.”

“Alright then.” Ghost stepped forward again, planting one hoof firmly to stabilize himself and reaching out with the other to grab her tail near the base, just above the root where it met her lower back. His opposite hoof hooked into the waistband of her pants again as Bonnie angled her tail downward like before.

“Ready?”

“Ready,” Bonnie confirmed.

With a grunt of exertion, Ghost gave the waistband a much harder tug this time, yanking it backward with enough force that Bonnie’s upper body jerked slightly and her footing nearly gave out. She managed to stay upright, bracing herself quickly with a soft growl. The waistband stretched slightly more this time—not by a ton, but enough to make a difference.

Ghost immediately went to work, stuffing her tail into the back of her pants. He was rougher this time, not careless, but using force. The fluffy midsection of her tail once again resisted, bulging against the tightness of the waistband like trying to cram a pillow into a sock. But it was getting there—slowly—and then, just when it seemed it might stop entirely…

With a strong push of his left hoof, the resistance broke. Her tail slipped into place all at once.

The sudden lack of resistance combined with the heavy force Ghost had been applying threw his balance completely off. His body pitched forward, and his hoof that had been yanking on her waistband reflexively snapped down, grabbing to stabilize himself—gripping tightly. For a second, he nearly slammed right into her back, but just managed to catch himself before falling against her.

Unfortunately, in doing so, his left hoof—the one that had been shoving the tail—didn’t have time to withdraw.

With the waistband snapping back into place, Ghost’s entire foreleg was now jammed fully inside Bonnie’s pants. All the way down.

And not just anywhere.

Due to the tightness of her pants and the tail now packed down between the waistband and her spine, his leg had only one place to go—pressed firmly against one of her butt cheeks. From wrist to elbow. Just planted there like some unfortunate accident of geometry. The soft fur and warm muscle of her backside met his limb in full contact. Not grabbing. Not fondling. But absolutely there.

And thanks to her underwear style—what Ghost had come to mentally compare to a swimsuit bottom, though he didn’t know the name—the back coverage was… nonexistent. A thin string between the cheeks meant his leg was pressed directly onto bare fur and skin.

Ghost just stood there, shoulders tense, face slowly twitching as he processed the situation. A sigh escaped him, followed by a muttered, exasperated, “Fucking really?”

Bonnie glanced back, one ear flicking, her expression caught somewhere between embarrassment and exhausted resignation. “How does this keep happening?” she asked aloud, her tone more baffled than angry. “First my boob… now my ass?”

She didn’t even sound particularly mad. Just… tired. This was definitely not how she thought this week would be going.

And honestly, the whole thing didn’t bother her that much. Not like that. It was her ass. A private spot, sure, but nothing to lose her mind over—especially considering it was Ghost, and this was clearly just one more episode in the cursed comedy that seemed to follow them like a cloud.

Ghost hadn’t meant it. Obviously. But gods above, this was getting absurd.

Then came the noise.

A loud, exaggerated throat-clear echoed across the clearing.

Both of them froze. Slowly, they turned their heads, Bonnie looking over her shoulder and Ghost twisting slightly with visible effort due to the awkward position.

There stood Luna. Eyebrow raised.

Smirking.

“So…” she said casually, her wings slightly flared as she cocked her head, “is there a reason Ghost’s entire foreleg is shoved down your pants, Bonnie?”

Dead silence.

Then simultaneous, utterly defeated sighs from both of them.

Ghost just growled, “Fuck you.”

Luna giggled, that playful, mischievous smirk tugging at her lips as she looked between the two of them. “Wow, you got a lot of action today. First boobs, now some ass? I’m not sure if you’re lucky, unlucky, or if Bonnie just let this happen on purpose.”

Bonnie shot her a hard glare, but Luna just smiled innocently and rocked on her hooves. Ghost sighed and, without saying a word, used his free hoof to yank hard on Bonnie’s waistband, stretching it just enough to finally pull his arm out. He released the band, and it snapped sharply back into place around Bonnie’s hips with a distinct thwap.

Luna gave a light chuckle and held up a hoof. “Don’t worry, I’m just messing around. I know what you two were trying to do—I watched it.”

Bonnie let out a breath and huffed, then reached down to unbutton her pants again, loosening them and tugging her tail free. Once done, she rebuttoned them and grumbled, “Fuck… my tail. Starting to wish I didn’t have it. Why is it so fucking hard to keep it safe?”

Neither Ghost nor Luna said anything. They didn’t have any great answer. Honestly, they both wished they did.

Bonnie sighed again and shook her head. “Well… other than Ghost’s arm getting stuck in my pants, it does show that the method can work. If I really need to, and one of you—Ghost or you, Luna—is with me, either of you can help push it in. But I’d love something I can do myself when I’m solo. Something fast.”

There was a pause before Ghost finally said, “Well… you could do what I did. Just keep your tail in your pants all the time.”

Bonnie groaned. “No, it won’t feel good. But… I may have to, for now, till we figure something else out.”

Ghost nodded slowly, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Luna squinting slightly, deep in thought, clearly working something out in her mind. Then Ghost hummed and looked at her more directly. “Hey Luna… I know your magic’s back to full strength now, right?”

Luna blinked and nodded.

“Is there a spell,” Ghost continued, “you could put on Bonnie’s pants? Something like… okay, let’s say her waistband was loose—obviously they’d fall—but what if you could stick the waistband to her body magically? Make it hold snug unless she disables it? And maybe give her a quick way to undo and redo it? Like a toggle?”

Both Bonnie and Luna blinked, clearly intrigued by the idea. Ghost could almost see the wheels turning in Luna’s head. After a second, he added, “Could you, I dunno, make the button be like a trigger? Press once, the waistband sticks; press again, it releases. Something like that?”

Luna hummed thoughtfully and then nodded slowly. “You know… yes. That might actually work. There is a sticking spell. I can enchant the waistband directly. Set it up so that pushing the pants’ button acts as a trigger. Push once, it sticks—tight as needed. Push again, it releases. And I can bind the magic to respond only to Bonnie’s touch… or anyone else she chooses. Yeah. That’s definitely possible.”

Bonnie’s eyes lit up. “So what you’re saying is… I can keep my pants loose—like, unbuttoned—and then the sticking spell makes them feel like they’re tight again? Like how they fit now?”

Luna nodded. “Exactly. The only issue is… your pants are already tight. Not sure how we’re gonna make them loose enough for this to matter.”

Ghost chimed in, “Well, Bonnie can just leave them unbuttoned, right?”

Bonnie quickly nodded. “Yeah. If I unbutton them, they do slide off easier. And while they don’t fall down on their own just standing still, if I start walking or running, they’ll drop.”

Luna nodded thoughtfully. “That’ll work. With the sticking spell on, they’ll look and feel buttoned. But if you hit the button again—bam—loose, and you can stuff your tail in quickly. One more press? Locked back up again.”

Ghost nodded. “So as long as you’re okay with your pants technically not being buttoned, it works.”

Luna added, “Yeah, and no one can tell just from looking. They’ll look buttoned.”

Bonnie grinned wide. “Let’s do it. That’s the best solution we’ve had.”

Luna smiled. “Alright. Before I start, though—do you want me to lock it so only you can activate the enchantment? Or allow others? Like me and Ghost?”

Bonnie nodded. “Just me, you, and Ghost. That’s it.”

“Very well,” Luna said. “Let’s begin.”

Her horn lit up with that soft, regal blue glow, brighter than any simple levitation spell Ghost had seen her use before. This was the first real, involved spellcasting he’d seen from her—something complex. The air hummed faintly, the tips of her mane drifting slightly higher in a magical breeze. Ghost watched, intrigued. Over the past three weeks, Luna had fully recovered. She was now exactly as she’d been in the show—form, body, and power.

“Almost done,” Luna said five minutes later. “Just need to bind the security portion of the enchantment. And to do that—I’ll need a little blood. From all three of us.”

Ghost blinked. “Blood?”

Luna nodded. “Yep. A few drops of DNA from each of us. That way, the magic recognizes only us for activation.”

Ghost nodded, then unsheathed his combat knife and gently poked the side of his leg—just enough to bleed. “Alright. Where?”

“Drop it onto the button,” Luna instructed.

He did so, and the red drop vanished into the spell’s glow instantly.

“Okay, Bonnie. Your turn.”

Ghost offered her the knife and, with a slight eye-roll, poked her fingertip and let a drop fall onto the button. Finally, Luna pricked her own leg and added her blood to the button. The enchantment pulsed once, and the glow vanished.

Luna smiled. “Done.”

Bonnie immediately grinned and unbuttoned her pants, loosening them fully. She pressed a fingertip to the button—and with a soft snap, the waistband hugged back into place like it was perfectly buttoned. She beamed. “Thank you so much, Luna. Really.”

Luna nodded modestly. Bonnie then tapped the button again, loosened her pants, quickly shoved her tail down into them, and re-pressed the button—snap—all locked up tight again.

She grinned wide. “I can finally move my tail in and out easy. Hell yeah.”

Ghost just smiled quietly, watching both of them. This… actually worked.

Luna looked over at Ghost, one eyebrow arched high in a signature royal expression of skeptical amusement. “What do you mean this actually worked?” she asked, clearly teasing, her tone somewhere between playful offense and curiosity.

Ghost just shrugged lazily. “I mean… I haven’t really seen you do magic much, that’s all. Only time I saw it was way back—before the timberwolf attack. You messed with my helmet cam for a bit, tried to figure it out, and then that time you shot that little laser thing at the timberwolf that did nothing… and then, you know, Bonnie’s pants.”

Luna immediately rolled her eyes, dramatically and thoroughly. “Okay, hang on,” she said with mock frustration, lifting a hoof for emphasis. “That’s not a fair comparison at all. I was weakened. My magic wasn’t at full strength yet! I hadn’t gotten all my power back, not even close.”

She pointed a hoof at him and leaned forward slightly. “The whole messing with your helmet cam thing? I want to point out, I was very close to figuring that out. And in fact, I want to mess with it again! I know it can be done.”

Then she huffed, continuing with a proud lift of her head. “And that so-called ‘weak’ laser? Yeah, it’s not weak now, thank you very much. It was weak because I was recovering. But now?” She gave a self-satisfied flick of her starry tail. “It’s anything but. And as for Bonnie’s pants… come on. That’s a basic sticking spell. The locking system took a little finesse, sure, but to me—a thousand-year-old alicorn? Child’s play.”

Ghost gave a thoughtful nod. “I keep forgetting you’re over a thousand years old. You really don’t act like it at all. Honestly, you’re very different from the show version of you. Like, I know you still look the same and everything, but your personality—totally different. You act like a teenager sometimes. You cuss a lot. And for some reason, you really like pervy jokes.”

He gave a tired little smirk. “My favorite character from my childhood show is now out here making dirty jokes and swearing like a soldier. Wild.”

Luna looked amused, not insulted in the slightest. In fact, she seemed almost flattered. “Well, the show version of me? That’s not me. Never was. Never will be.” Then she gave a sharp look to the side. “Also—I blame you and Bonnie for my more pervy side.”

Bonnie, who had been adjusting her pants again to test the spell, looked up in surprise. “Hey! Hang on! How are you blaming me for that?”

Luna gave her an innocent look, her smirk growing smug. “Says the one who had very close contact with Ghost today.”

Bonnie snorted and rolled her eyes. “HA! Get real. You were being pervy and cracking jokes way before today, don’t you try to pin that on me.”

Luna just kept smirking, clearly enjoying herself. Ghost shook his head, unable to help the smile tugging at his lips. “Yaaa… I think that’s all you, Luna. If I had to guess, I’d say you just have a bit of a pervy mind. Admit it.”

Luna huffed, flicked her mane over her shoulder, and raised her snout regally. “Anyway, I act how I like, thank you very much.” Then she glanced at him, her expression softening into something more playful again. “And hey—happy to meet a fan. Even if it’s from a show I’ve never seen and only know about through you. Still, happy you loved me in it. I must’ve done good if I was your favorite.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes again, unable to suppress a smile. “Oh brother…”

Ghost sighed and shook his head, looking back at Luna with a dry look. “All-powerful alicorn, huh? You can shoot lasers and lock pants now. Cool. So, you can teleport us out of this forest, right?”

Luna huffed, ears flicking. “You know why I can’t, Ghost. A thousand years have passed since I last walked Equestria. I don’t know any landmarks anymore. I can’t teleport blind. I’d have to know exactly where I’m going—or risk killing us.”

Ghost rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Magic bull crap.”

Luna rolled hers right back at him, sighing heavily. “You are impossible.”

He just grinned. “And yet, you keep me around.”

Bonnie, at that, just laughed and shook her head. “Honestly, I still don’t know how we haven’t killed each other yet.”

Luna smirked. “Because, Bonnie dear… he’s our pain in the ass.”

“Damn right I am,” Ghost muttered, walking ahead as they continued deeper into their little clearing, ready for whatever else the day might throw at them.

The rest of the day went by without anything noteworthy happening—no training, no strange encounters, no surprises—just quiet. After everything they’d all been through recently, the silence felt almost eerie in its calm. Now, with the moon hanging high above them and the light of the campfire casting a warm orange glow over the riverside clearing, Ghost, Bonnie, and Luna sat gathered around the flames. It was peaceful, if a little too quiet. The crackling fire provided a soft rhythm, and the occasional chirp of crickets in the nearby bushes filled in the gaps between words.

Bonnie sat comfortably near the fire, her signature hat resting atop her head, her coat draped loosely around her shoulders, and her magically-enchanted pants perfectly fitted now that Luna’s sticking spell kept them snug despite being unbuttoned. Across from her, Luna lay on her side, forelegs tucked under her chest, looking relaxed but alert. Ghost, still in his full gear as always, sat upright on a nearby log, his expression unreadable as his eyes wandered between the two women.

After a few minutes of quiet, Ghost shifted slightly and looked toward Bonnie, breaking the stillness.

“You know,” he said, voice even but laced with curiosity, “I’ve been meaning to ask… does your clothing actually mean anything to you?”

Bonnie raised a brow, glancing over at him with mild interest. “What do you mean?” she asked.

Ghost gave a small shrug, adjusting his posture slightly. “In the game you’re from, gear kind of represented progress. You leveled up, got better weapons, fancier outfits. But here… well, this isn’t a game. So I was wondering—how’d you even get that outfit in your world? Did it mean anything to you personally, or was it just something you picked up along the way?”

Bonnie looked into the fire for a second, considering, then shrugged again with a little smirk. “Honestly? Not really. I mean, I loved my gun—that thing took forever to get, and it was a real bitch to earn. But my clothes? Nah. Just bought ’em from a shop. I liked how they looked. That’s about it.”

Ghost gave a slight hum, almost disappointed. “Huh. I expected something more dramatic. Like a tale of victory or something.”

Bonnie chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Luna, eyes half-lidded with a trace of amusement, turned toward Ghost and asked casually, “So, Ghost… you willing to let me mess with your helmet cam again? I know I can figure it out now.”

Ghost snorted softly, clearly amused. “Why bother?” he asked, gesturing vaguely. “If I remember right from the show—Miss Princess of the Moon—you’ve got all your power back now. You can enter dreams, right? Why not just pull me and Bonnie into one of my dreams? I can show you anything you want about my world that way. And I can control it.”

The silence that followed was almost comically loud.

Bonnie blinked in pure surprise. “Wait. Hang on. Luna can do that? Like, for real?”

Ghost nodded. “Yep. As far as I know, it’s something unique to her. Don’t think Celestia can do it. But yeah—Luna enters dreams, helps ponies with nightmares. Kind of her thing.”

Luna, for her part, was staring at Ghost with an expression of genuine shock and frustration.

“Oh… my… stars,” she muttered, her eyes wide. “I completely forgot I could do that.” She smacked her hoof down into the grass with a frustrated grunt. “I could have entered my sister’s dreams. I could’ve told her we were alive. She could have sent search parties—gah, I am so mad at myself.”

Ghost and Bonnie just blinked, watching as Luna laid down fully and closed her eyes, clearly concentrating.

“Give me a moment,” she muttered, “I’m going to try and contact her now.”

Ghost and Bonnie exchanged glances. Bonnie leaned toward him slightly and whispered, “I’m so lost right now. So she can just enter people’s dreams?”

Ghost nodded. “Yep. Coolest trick she’s got, really.”

Bonnie looked impressed. “I don’t even remember most of my dreams.”

“Same,” Ghost said.

After a couple of minutes, Luna’s eyes fluttered open again—but instead of excitement, her expression was deeply unsettled.

Ghost immediately noticed the look on her face. “All good?” he asked, brow furrowing.

Luna sat up slowly, shaking her head. “No. Nothing’s good. I don’t know what’s going on, but… when I entered the dream realm, it was empty.”

Ghost’s frown deepened. “Empty?”

Luna nodded. “There were no dream bubbles. Not a single one, except for yours and Bonnie’s. And you two aren’t even asleep. Normally, there are thousands—millions. I should be able to sense the dreams of every pony in Equestria. But right now? It’s like the entire world has gone silent. Like something’s blocking me from reaching anyone else. Only you two are visible.”

Bonnie’s eyes widened, her earlier calm now slipping away. “That… that sounds really bad.”

Ghost’s voice dropped an octave, low and serious. “Yeah. That’s not normal.”

Luna nodded gravely, wings tightening slightly against her sides. “It’s more than not normal. It’s dangerous. Something is very wrong with Equestria.”

Chapter Text

Ghost sat with his eyes fixed on Luna, the flickering campfire light casting soft, shifting shadows across her worried features. He couldn’t blame her not even slightly. Equestria was her home, her kingdom… her life. To learn now that something was deeply wrong, something beyond even her reach, well… yeah. That would shake anyone. The silence that followed was heavy, thick with tension neither words nor fire could burn away. Ghost’s gaze dropped momentarily to the dirt, the faint crackle of the logs the only sound between them.

Then, without a word, Bonnie scooted closer to Luna. She didn’t say anything at first just leaned into her gently and wrapped an arm around the alicorn’s side, pulling her into a soft, grounding side hug. Her voice was quiet but full of strength and certainty as she said, “It’ll be okay, Luna. Whatever’s going on out there, we’ll handle it together. We’re not alone. And hey we’ve got Ghost, the badass spec ops soldier on our side. If someone’s screwing with your home, he’ll show ’em what’s up.”

Ghost couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. He gave a nod, but said nothing yet.

Luna blinked at Bonnie for a moment, then slowly smiled first a small twitch at the corner of her mouth, then a full, grateful grin. She giggled softly, more out of appreciation than amusement, and let herself lean into the hug fully, her wing briefly lifting to drape around Bonnie’s back.

“You’re right,” Luna said softly. “I do have you two. And if someone’s messing with my home, then… we’ll show them what’s up. We’ll show them not to fuck with us or Equestria.”

Her voice had a heat behind it now. A fire. She pulled away from Bonnie just enough to turn toward Ghost, meeting his eyes as her wing slid back to her side.

“And with you on our side, Ghost,” she said, eyes locking with his, “I know we’ll be fine.”

Ghost exhaled heavily, leaning back and giving a slow, deliberate roll of his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. You two talk like I’m some kind of unstoppable force or something.”

Luna shrugged with a smirk, her expression a mix of sincerity and teasing. “Ghost, you are the most deadly, well-trained individual I’ve ever met. Even after the training you gave me and Bonnie, I know damn well that without magic, neither of us could beat you not even close. And honestly? I think even with magic, you'd find a way to beat us.”

She paused and tapped her hoof against the dirt lightly. “You’re smart. Tactical. Focused. You’ve already figured out weaknesses in ponies we didn’t even know we had. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if you could beat my sister Celestia in a fight. You’d find a way to get past her magic too, I know it.”

Bonnie chimed in with a small grin. “She’s not wrong. I’ve never seen anyone move or fight like you. The second you say, ‘do this’ in a fight? I do it. That says something.”

Luna nodded once more, her voice lower but just as firm. “You have knowledge of my world that no other creature does. You’ve got experience, memory, instincts, and that ridiculous training of yours. In my eyes, Ghost? You’re the most dangerous person alive in Equestria.”

Ghost let out a long, quiet sigh. “You’re both making me out to be some kind of super soldier or something. I’m just a guy who got thrown into another world.”

“But you are a super soldier,” Bonnie muttered under her breath with a smirk, though she didn’t push it further.

Shaking his head, Ghost looked back to the fire. “Look… I appreciate the confidence or whatever. But let me make something crystal clear. I’m not a hero. I’m not here to save the world or lead a revolution. I don’t give a damn about glory, destiny, or some prophecy bullshit, okay? I’ll help but only because this is your home, Luna. You care about it. So I’ll back you up. I’ll protect what you love, if I can. But that’s it.”

Luna’s expression softened, and she slowly nodded. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I understand. And… thank you, Ghost. It means more than I can say.”

Ghost gave them both a brief glance, then turned his eyes skyward, watching the moonlight spill through the sparse leaves above. He didn’t speak again, but his small, tired sigh said plenty. They sat in quiet once more this time not heavy with fear, but wrapped in something warmer. Trust. Connection. And unspoken resolve.

Ghost lay on his side near the crackling fire, his legs folded under his head as he stared lazily into the flames, the warmth gently brushing against his face in the cool night air. The sky above them was clear, stars glimmering against the vast canvas of darkness, and the moon Luna’s moon hung high and bright, casting soft silver light down over the three of them. It had been a long day, but the peace of the evening was welcome. After a moment of quiet, Ghost’s voice broke the silence.

“So, Luna,” he said, not bothering to move, “been meaning to ask. You’ve got your magic fully back, right? But I haven’t seen you fly. At all. I know I brought it up a while back when we first met, and you said for some reason it just wasn’t working. Still the case?”

Luna, who was lying on her side with her wings loosely folded, let out a long sigh. “Yes… still the case,” she said with a touch of frustration. “It’s strange. I am, at this point, fully healed. My strength has returned, my magic is completely restored, and I feel like myself again scars and all. Physically, I’m a healthy alicorn. My wings aren’t in pain, and they move just fine. But for whatever reason… I still can’t fly. They just won’t lift me.”

She stared into the fire for a long moment before continuing, her tone turning thoughtful. “The timberwolves never touched my wings, only my back. So I truly don’t understand it. It's not physical, not magical... it’s just like... something is missing, something I can’t put my hoof on.”

Ghost nodded, eyes narrowing slightly. “Weird,” he muttered. “No damage to the wings, no nerve issues you can feel, full strength and magic... and still grounded. That’s strange, but like you said, not much we can do about it out here in the woods. It sucks. If you could fly, you could scout the area above the trees. It’d make things a hell of a lot easier.”

Luna nodded with a faint grimace. “Yeah. If this continues when we make it back to Equestria, I’ll seek medical help. Or just ask my sister. If anypony can figure out what’s wrong, it’s her. For now… we wait.”

Bonnie, who was reclining with her arms behind her head and hat tilted back on her brow, spoke up. “Sooo… this whole dream-walking thing that’s real? That’s not just some show magic thing?”

Luna perked up slightly and gave a small, proud smile. “Oh, it’s very real. I am the Princess of the Night for a reason. The moon and dreams are my domain. I can walk through the dreamscape, enter dreams, help ponies confront their nightmares, guide them through emotional turmoil. I’ve been doing it for centuries.”

Ghost, still looking at the fire, snorted. “Also the Princess of Moonin’ people.”

Luna rolled her eyes but didn’t bother to respond directly to that. She carried on, undeterred. “I enjoy it, honestly. Helping ponies in a way nopony else can. Of course, I understand privacy is important. If I enter a dream and the pony expresses they don’t want me there, I respect that. I’ll stay out moving forward.”

Ghost shifted slightly, shooting her a sidelong glance. “Yeah, they can only tell you after you’ve already entered the dream. Kind of a flawed system, don't you think?”

Luna huffed. “Deal with it, Ghost. I’m not omniscient. I can’t just magically know ahead of time who’s going to want help and who’s going to be mad I showed up. If they don’t want me in their dreams, they can tell me. I’ll respect it. Until then? I help where I can.”

Ghost snorted again. “Congratulations, Bonnie you’ve just met the biggest stalker in Equestria.”

Bonnie giggled, her tail flicking behind her lazily as she grinned. “Eh, she’s a cute stalker. I’ll allow it.”

Luna scoffed but smirked faintly. “I heard that.”

Bonnie turned toward Ghost again. “Anyway, so you said we can just see your world in a dream? Like, that’s it? You can show us without any of this fancy spell stuff?”

Ghost nodded. “Yeah. I mentioned that. Back when Luna was hellbent on messing with my helmet cam, trying to extract a memory or whatever spell-junk she was cooking up. But yeah, in a dream, I can control what I show you. I can take you through scenes, people, things I remember. Way more efficient than playing ‘guess the spell’ with my gear.”

Luna huffed, folding her wings slightly tighter to her side. “I still want to make that spell work. I know I could’ve cracked it. I was close so close before the timberwolf attack. And now? I’m going to be haunted by that unfinished work. I could feel the solution right on the edge.”

Bonnie raised an eyebrow. “So… it wasn’t just about seeing his world, huh? You were trying to prove a point?”

Luna sighed heavily and nodded. “Yes. I wanted to prove I could do it. That I could bend a spell around something from his world. It was a challenge. And I hate leaving things unfinished.” She jabbed her hoof into the dirt again. “Damn timberwolves ruined everything…”

“But,” she added, regaining her composure, “yes. Even though I couldn’t connect with anyone else in the dream realm when I tried earlier… I did find you two. So if Ghost is okay with it, we can enter his dream. It would work.”

Ghost gave a nonchalant shrug. “Fine with me.”

Bonnie immediately sat upright, eyes shining. “Then what are we waiting for?! Go to sleep already!”

She flopped right back down, folding her arms under her head and closing her eyes, her tail curling around her legs as she muttered, “Don’t waste time. I wanna see weird Earth stuff.”

Ghost and Luna just blinked and stared at her.

After a moment, Ghost sighed and muttered, “Why do I put up with you two?”

Luna giggled beside him. “Because we’re your Friends. And deep down, you love us.”

Ghost rolled his eyes with a smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Sleep tight, dream crashers.”

Ghost blinked slowly as his vision adjusted, his red eyes scanning the scene around him. He stood alone at first in what seemed like an endless, perfectly green grass field. There were no trees. No mountains. No landmarks of any kind. Just blue sky above, clouds gently drifting by like slow ships through a silent ocean of air, and nothing but short, dew-kissed grass stretching to the horizon in every direction. It was so… blank. So eerily calm. A little too calm. He squinted slightly and muttered under his breath, "The hell…?"

Then a voice broke through the stillness, warm and familiar.

"Ghost."

He turned immediately, his ears twitching at the sound as he looked over his shoulder. There they were Luna and Bonnie, both standing a short distance behind him. Luna had a knowing, almost serene smile on her face, while Bonnie looked mildly intrigued and also a bit confused. The sun overhead bathed them both in soft golden light, casting gentle shadows across the open grass.

Luna stepped forward first, the smile on her face growing just a bit wider as she saw the confusion on his face. “You are in the dream world,” she explained with an elegant flick of her wings. “Or rather, your dream, to be exact.”

Ghost’s brow furrowed, and he gave a slow, thoughtful nod. “Huh. Went from sleeping in the woods to standing in a... giant flat field,” he muttered dryly, glancing around once more.

Luna nodded, her expression calm and confident. “It is normal. When I enter someone’s dream, I make them aware. Most ponies react the same way. Especially when their mind is not already forming a dream on its own.”

Bonnie, stepping up beside her with her arms crossed, added with a small smirk, “Yeah, when Luna came to get me from my dream and dragged me here, I was totally confused too. Thought I’d lost my mind for a second.”

Ghost chuckled lightly and gave another nod, his eyes sweeping the field again. “So… this is it? My dream? Just grass? I mean... not that I mind the space, but I figured if my brain was dreaming, it’d be a bit more... I dunno, dramatic.”

At that, Luna gently stepped in again, her voice carrying the tone of a teacher explaining a rare spell. “That’s because you weren’t dreaming at all,” she said matter-of-factly. “You know those times where one simply sleeps… and wakes… with nothing in between? No dreams? That’s what was happening when I entered. You weren’t actively dreaming. So I created a dream space something neutral to enter and pull you into awareness. This field is that space. A blank canvas.”

Bonnie raised an eyebrow and tilted her head slightly. “So… Ghost didn’t dream this?”

“No,” Luna replied. “This is the foundation. A holding zone. But Ghost can shape it now, if he chooses. He is the one in control here. It is his mind, after all.”

Bonnie’s ears twitched as she looked around the plain again. “Wait… so I can’t change anything here?” she asked, glancing back toward Luna.

Luna shook her head. “No. You are a guest. Only Ghost and I may shape this dream. I because it is my domain my magic and Ghost because it is his mind, his soul. You, Bonnie, can observe, interact, and feel but not edit.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes. “Figures.”

Ghost, meanwhile, was still taking it all in. His mind ticked slowly through the implications of what Luna had said, and his eyes narrowed slightly. “So wait… you're saying I control everything here?” he asked, looking toward her now with a slightly skeptical look.

Luna’s face turned just a little more serious as she nodded. “Yes. Absolutely. And there’s more.” She stepped a little closer and lowered her voice, just slightly. “This is something I have never told anyone before not in a thousand years, not even to my sister because it is dangerous for me to share. But... I trust you, Ghost.”

Her eyes met his with intensity, her voice lower, calm but honest. “If you wanted to… if you truly focused your will… you could force me out of your dream. Most cannot. Most do not even think it possible. They believe I am some kind of goddess within dreams untouchable. And usually, they are right. Those who try to resist me fail. But if someone has a strong enough mind, a will powerful enough to reject me... they can succeed. I can fight back, resist, even overpower most… but you?”

She exhaled softly. “I think you could do it, Ghost. I think you could push me out.”

Ghost blinked slowly, his expression unreadable. “Good to know,” he muttered after a beat.

“But,” Luna said, the seriousness in her voice melting back into a soft smile, “you won’t. Because you don’t want to hurt me. And that… that is why I’m not afraid to tell you.”

He nodded once, firmly. “Yeah. I don’t plan on hurting you.”

Then before anyone could blink or react Luna suddenly changed.

There was no flare of magic, no shimmer of transformation, no glowing horn. It just happened. One moment she was standing there, calm and composed, her ethereal mane drifting in the nonexistent breeze. The next… she was a full-blown teenage goth girl.

It was glorious. Or horrifying. Depending on perspective.

She wore tight black clothing layered with jagged accents and way too many zippers, with black fishnet sleeves, chunky black boots, and a collar-style chain around her neck that jingled as she moved. Her fur remained its usual midnight hue, but now even her wings had been dyed to a matte black, like someone had soaked them in ink. Her mane was streaked and styled wildly with jagged, edgy swoops, tied with dark bands and somehow looking both fluffy and chaotic at once. Her tail matched frayed and overstyled. Her ears now sported three hoop earrings apiece, and even her muzzle had a little black streak painted under the eyes. Gothic eyeliner ringed her eyes so dramatically it looked like she’d just wandered out of a Hot Topic ad. Even her cutie mark looked more sinister, somehow darker, more dramatic.

And the best part?

She didn’t notice.

Not right away.

Bonnie noticed. Oh stars above, did Bonnie notice.

Her face instantly turned the deepest shade of red her orange fur allowed. Her body shook. Her hands shot up to slap over her muzzle to stifle the noise. She wheezed slightly, eyes already watering as she fought an internal battle between respect and absolute meltdown. She looked like a soda can seconds before it explodes.

Luna tilted her head at the reaction, frowning slightly. “Bonnie? Are you alright?”

Bonnie nodded violently, trying so hard not to laugh that she was visibly vibrating like a pressure cooker. Her whole body trembled, and little huffs of barely-stifled giggles leaked out between her fingers.

Ghost watched calmly for a second before his own smirk began to creep across his face. Without a word, he summoned a tall, full-length mirror like a wall-sized slab of silver glass rising from nowhere, framed in black iron. It appeared right in front of Luna with a quiet shimmer.

Luna blinked at it, confused, and then turned her eyes toward it.

And then she saw herself.

Her breath caught. Her wings twitched. Her pupils shrank.

She stared, wide-eyed, unblinking, at the impossible reflection staring back at her.

She looked like a walking parody. A goth cartoon. A nightmare she would’ve banished in an instant had she seen it roaming Canterlot. The overdone black eyeliner, the edgy hair, the ridiculous tail styling, the pierced ears and wings, the boots, the chain necklace, the dramatic dark wing dye all of it.

She looked… ridiculous.

Utterly. Absolutely. Monstrously ridiculous.

A long pause passed. You could’ve heard a pin drop in the middle of this grassy field.

Then Bonnie lost it.

She hit the ground like a sack of bricks, gasping and wheezing as giggles exploded out of her in waves. Her legs kicked wildly in the air as she rolled onto her back, hands clutching her stomach, tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she screamed silently into the grass and kicked the dirt with abandon.

Luna, still staring at the mirror, slowly very slowly turned her head to look at Ghost.

Her left eye twitched. Just a little.

She didn’t say anything.

She didn’t need to.

That look said it all.

This… was war.

And Ghost? He just stood there, deadpan, smiling faintly as if he’d just won a bet with himself.

“Welcome to my dream,” he said dryly.

Luna looked like she was about two seconds away from launching into a furious tirade. Her wings twitched sharply against her sides, her jaw clenched so tightly it was a wonder her teeth didn’t crack under the pressure, and her left eye wouldn’t stop twitching. She stared at Ghost as if he had just declared war on Equestria, kicked her favorite book into the fireplace, and eaten the last piece of cake all at once.

Ghost, completely unfazed, just smiled. Calm. Collected. Smug.

“Like I said, Luna,” he drawled smoothly, “I’d never hurt you.”

He gestured to her the disaster goth ensemble, the black-clad chaos with too many zippers and chains, the ear piercings, the charcoal-streaked wings, and her hilariously overdone eyeliner.

“See? You’re perfectly fine.”

Bonnie, meanwhile, was still howling with laughter in the grass, clutching her sides as she rolled back and forth, tail flicking wildly, tears streaming from her golden eyes. She tried to stop. She really did. But every time she looked at Luna’s goth form, a fresh wave of helpless giggles shook her whole body. She’d almost stopped breathing at this point.

Luna didn’t even glance at Bonnie. Her icy, death-ray stare was locked squarely on Ghost as her mouth curled into a strained line. Her voice, when it came, was tight so tight it sounded like it was being pulled through gritted fangs.

“Ghost,” she said with absolute, bone-level tension, “you didn’t hurt me. True. But what you just did to me… I hope you realize… this means war.”

Her voice cracked slightly on the last word, but it wasn’t from laughter. It was from the sheer force of her fury fighting to stay polite.

Ghost raised his brows slightly and nodded in complete agreement, still totally composed. “You’re right. I didn’t hurt you,” he said casually. “But here’s a question for you, Luna.”

His red eyes narrowed just slightly, his tone suddenly edged with something darker calm, but pointed.

“If I did force you out of my dream… would it hurt you?”

The question hung there in the air like a blade suspended in silence.

For the first time since her transformation, Luna hesitated. Her ears twitched back ever so slightly, and she shifted her hooves beneath her. The edge in Ghost’s voice wasn’t a threat it was a statement of control. A reminder that this was his realm.

Finally, she spoke.

“…Kind of,” she said slowly. “There are two ways someone can force me out. That’s why I’ve never told anyone this not even my sister. Because if someone ever figured it out… if they truly managed to will me out… it could hurt me.”

She looked at Ghost now, directly, seriously none of the usual mystique, none of the lofty aloofness she sometimes wore. Just raw honesty.

“You can’t die in a dream. No one can. And normally, neither can I be injured. But my connection to the dream realm is… special. Powerful. That power comes with a cost. One I hide. One only you and Bonnie now know.”

Bonnie’s laughter slowed, eyes widening slightly as she sat up, fur still bristled from giggle overload but now focused.

Luna continued, her voice low, somber.

“If someone kicks me out of a dream but they do it with thoughts of hatred, or rage, or a real desire to harm me… I don’t just wake up.”

She swallowed. “I wake up in the real world… hurt. I won’t die, but I’ll suffer. Depending on how strong their rejection was, I could wake up bleeding. Bruised. Worse. It’s rare. But real. It’s why I keep this secret. Because all great power has a price.”

Ghost nodded slowly, absorbing the weight of her words. Then, in a perfectly even tone, he asked, “Okay. But if I don’t want to hurt you say, I just want to kick you out so you can’t counter-prank me… you’d be fine?”

Luna blinked. Her posture stiffened as she seemed to process what he was getting at.

Very slowly, like a ticking clock winding into realization… her eyes widened just a hair.

Ghost’s smirk returned like a creeping shadow.

“After all,” he said smoothly, “this is war, sure… but only if you can stay in the dream.”

Luna’s glare intensified by the second. Her gothic makeup only made it more absurd, more dramatic, more painfully teenage. Her tail swished sharply once, and her wings flared slightly.

Bonnie, having fully realized what Ghost was saying, scooted back a few paces, ears perked and golden eyes bouncing between the two like she was watching two dragons square off in a thunderstorm. She sat cross-legged now, arms folded tight over her chest, clearly deciding that this was not her war.

Ghost raised an eyebrow. “Careful, Luna,” he said calmly, “starting a prank war inside someone else’s place of power? That’s dangerous strategy.”

Luna ground her teeth for a moment, her jaw flexing visibly… and then, in a tone way too calm to be safe, she gave him a sweet, icy smile.

“Well played… Ghost,” she said. “For now. After all… we are lost in a forest. If I can’t get back here in the dream realm… well, we’ll just see what awaits you in the waking world.”

Ghost chuckled darkly, folding his forelegs across his chest.

“Bring it on, Moonbutt.”

That. Did. It.

Luna’s eye twitched again hard. Her left wing gave a furious flutter, her hoof stomped in the grass once, and her ears pinned back with a snap. But she didn’t yell.

Yet.

Bonnie, meanwhile, had now backed herself up to a small patch of imaginary flowers in the grass and hunkered down like she was trying to become one with the terrain. She glanced between them and muttered under her breath, “Sweet Marleybone… I am not getting caught between an all-powerful dream goddess and a pissed-off soldier who can rewrite reality in here.”

Then, louder, to herself: “I’m so gonna lose this war if I get pulled in…”

And so, the field remained deceptively peaceful… but tension crackled in the air like a live wire.

The prank war had begun. And neither side was backing down.

For a long, tense moment, Luna stared Ghost down, her eyes narrowed, her muscles taut beneath her midnight fur. The air in the dream realm felt almost thick with anticipation as if the grass itself was holding its breath. Then, very slowly, Luna closed her eyes and let out a long, deep breath through her nostrils. It was the kind of exhale that carried more than just air it carried frustration, tension, and whatever volcanic fury had been threatening to erupt moments before.

When Ghost blinked again, he realized something had changed. Luna looked… normal. Or rather, she looked like herself again. Her usual form regal, serene, dark-maned and ethereal had returned. The absurd black makeup, the jagged hair, the edgy teenage nightmare aesthetic? Gone. No dramatic flash, no swirl of dream magic, no glowing horn or sound effect. It was as if she had merely decided it no longer existed and the dream obeyed. That alone told Ghost everything he needed to know about her control over dreams.

He raised an eyebrow slightly, impressed, as Luna folded her wings back to her sides and gave him a calm, composed look.

“You know,” Ghost said thoughtfully, “I was going off the show and the fanmade stuff. I thought you were the kind of mare who liked to have fun… who liked a good prank.”

Luna gave a slight, knowing roll of her eyes. “Well… yes,” she admitted with a small smirk tugging at the edge of her mouth. “I do love pranks. I enjoy the thrill of it the wit, the cleverness, the unexpected. And while I am mad at you for what you just did to me,” her tone hardened for half a second before softening again “I must admit… it was a good prank. A very good one.”

She looked at him seriously now, her tone dipping into something more genuine.

“Please understand something, Ghost. I can get mad easily when it comes to pranks like that especially when I’m the target and caught completely off-guard. But even when I’m mad… I’m still having fun. That’s what matters. In fact, the only pony I ever really pranked before was my sister. And even then, it was never a full-blown prank war. We never had time. Or space. Or freedom.”

A small, nostalgic smile crossed her face.

“So I suppose… I’m happy. That you’re willing to do this. To give me something fun to look forward to. To make things… exciting. That’s what pranking is about, isn’t it? Fun. So don’t hold back, Ghost. No matter how mad I might seem in the moment I am enjoying myself.”

Ghost smiled, just a little. “Well,” he said, “I’m glad you know how to have fun.”

Luna nodded, a full smile now on her face. “If anyone else had done that to me, I’d have been far angrier than I was with you. But I know you. I trust you. There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun… especially with those you care about.”

Bonnie finally found her voice again and flopped back onto her elbows in the grass, laughing breathlessly. “Oh man,” she said, ears still perked, “I was so sure someone was gonna die. Luna, you looked furious. I’ve seen pirates with less murder in their eyes.”

Luna gave a soft shrug and smiled faintly, her mane rippling with magic as if to say she wasn’t denying it. Then she looked straight at Bonnie, eyes gleaming. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t help me, Bonnie,” she said with a pointed grin. “You think you’re out of this prank war? Oh, no. You’re in it. Deep.”

Bonnie’s face paled instantly. “Oh no…” she muttered under her breath, ears flattening as she realized her attempt to stay neutral had completely backfired.

Luna’s smirk grew wider as she watched Bonnie squirm. “I hope you come up with some creative tricks, Miss Anne. I’m looking forward to it.”

Ghost gave a small chuckle and nodded. “Yep. You’re in now, Bonnie. No getting out of this mess.”

Bonnie groaned and rubbed the back of her neck. “I had a feeling that would happen…”

“Now,” Ghost continued, standing straighter, “we should probably set some rules. I mean, prank war or not, there need to be lines we don’t cross.”

Luna nodded, becoming serious again. “Yes. That’s important. Knowing what not to do is just as vital as knowing what you can do. I’m open to a lot of things but my only rule is this: no public pranks. Not while I’m at official events, ceremonies, or out in view of ponies who aren’t friends or family.”

She glanced between the two of them to make sure they were listening closely.

“While we may find these things fun, others won’t understand. I am a princess. I represent something larger than myself. If you prank me in front of strangers or at formal events, you won’t just be making me look foolish you’ll be damaging your own reputations by association. So… please. No pranks when I’m on duty.”

Ghost nodded slowly. “That’s fair. Totally fair.”

He then turned toward Bonnie, eyebrow raised. “What about you? Any red lines we should know about?”

Bonnie shrugged and waved a hand casually. “Honestly? I’m good. Just one real rule: no one gets hurt. I know that’s kinda obvious already, but just to say it out loud nothing that causes actual injury or trauma, alright?”

She leaned back in the grass again and added, “Other than that? I’m down for anything. If one of us says stop, we stop. But otherwise? All fair game.”

Luna nodded. “Agreed.”

Ghost noded. “Same here.”

There was a quiet moment, all three of them now in full understanding acknowledging that the prank war was official, that lines were drawn, and that the games could now begin with mutual trust and rules in place.

Then Bonnie tilted her head curiously and smirked. “So... how’d you come up with that nickname? ‘Moonbutt’? That was hilarious.”

Luna groaned immediately, rolling her eyes as if the mere memory of the word physically hurt her.

Ghost gave a nonchalant shrug. “Fandom,” he said simply.

Both Luna and Bonnie blinked.

Bonnie sat up a little straighter, one ear cocked. “Wait… fandom? That’s a thing? That’s from your world?”

Ghost chuckled. “Oh yeah. Fans of the show. That was their nickname for her. ‘Moonbutt.’ Celestia got ‘Sunbutt.’ It was a thing.”

Bonnie frowned thoughtfully, clearly baffled. “That’s… such a weird thing to call someone…”

Luna just huffed indignantly, muttering under her breath, “Why is that the nickname? Of all things, why?!”

She looked utterly betrayed by reality itself.

Ghost? He just grinned like a smug bastard and said, “Well, Princess… you do have a celestial-themed rear end.”

Luna let out an exasperated groan and looked up at the sky, silently begging the stars to end her suffering. Bonnie, meanwhile, couldn’t hold back her snickering again.

And so, beneath the dreamy blue sky in the endless grass field of Ghost’s mind, the three laughed, teased, and settled into the beginning of what was sure to become an unforgettable and possibly chaotic prank war.

Luna turned her head and gave Ghost a long, mildly annoyed look that couldn’t quite hide the smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “So... ‘Moonbutt’ and ‘Sunbutt,’ huh?” she asked, her tone somewhere between sarcastic curiosity and dry disbelief.

Ghost simply nodded with a shrug, completely unapologetic. “Yep. I mean, there are other fan nicknames that got thrown around too, but those two were kind of staples. ‘Moonbutt’ and ‘Sunbutt’ they’re just fun to say. Rolls off the tongue.”

He grinned. “I’ve always kinda wondered, though… how do you think Celestia would react if I called her ‘Sunbutt’ to her face?”

Luna opened her mouth to respond, clearly prepared to say something then abruptly stopped, blinked, and closed it again. Her ears tilted slightly as she considered the question more seriously than expected. “I… honestly have no clue,” she admitted after a moment, sounding genuinely surprised at herself. “I mean, I call her things like that sometimes but we’re sisters, so it’s different. Teasing between siblings has its own rules, you know?”

She looked back at Ghost with a small shrug. “But if you did it? Someone she doesn’t know at all?” She paused. “Yeah. No idea. Could go either way.”

Bonnie tilted her head curiously. “How many fans are there anyway?” she asked, leaning forward slightly with interest.

Ghost exhaled and shrugged again. “Hard to say. But a lot. Millions, I know that for sure.”

Both Luna and Bonnie blinked hard, their eyes going wide at the number.

“Wait really?” Luna asked, wings twitching slightly in disbelief.

Ghost nodded. “Yep. The show got huge. Sorry, Bonnie, but your world Pirate101 wasn’t as popular. You’ve got fans, don’t get me wrong, but that fandom’s way smaller.”

Bonnie shrugged with a relaxed grin. “Fine by me, honestly. Less attention means less weird fanfiction about me.” She gave Ghost a meaningful look, as if daring him to deny it.

He just grinned.

“So…” Bonnie continued, “how was the fandom for Luna’s world? I mean, obviously it was big but what were they like? Did everyone have favorites?”

“Oh yeah,” Ghost said immediately. “Everyone had favorites. Fanponies that people loved, characters they argued about constantly, all that good fandom chaos. And since you both know about yourselves now, there’s no harm in telling you the ranking I always saw for the four princesses of Equestria.”

“Luna first. Then Cadance. Then Twilight Sparkle. Celestia usually came in last.”

That did it.

Luna burst out laughing. Not just a soft chuckle an actual, full-bodied, joyous laugh that made her throw her head back. Her mane billowed behind her like a laughing comet, and her wings gave a little flutter from the force of it.

Ghost and Bonnie just stared at her for a moment, stunned.

Finally, Luna managed to gasp through the laughter. “My sister is last?! That’s so funny! I mean, I don’t even know who Twilight or Cadance are but that’s hilarious!”

She wiped a tear from her eye, still giggling. “You told me there were new princesses when we first learned about my world being a show but I don’t think you ever gave me their names. So Twilight and Cadance, huh?”

Ghost nodded. “Yep. Full names: Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship, and Cadance well, Mi Amore Cadenza, Princess of Love.”

Both Luna and Bonnie blinked slowly, processing that.

Bonnie’s ears twitched as she gave Ghost a very flat, very skeptical look. “Princess of Friendship? Really?”

Ghost gave another shrug. “Yep. That’s what they went with.”

Luna frowned slightly, her expression caught somewhere between baffled and unimpressed. “Even I think ‘Princess of Friendship’ doesn’t sound like a real title. It sounds more like… like a school project. Or something you give to a filly to make her feel special.”

She tilted her head. “But Princess of Love? That I can actually understand. Love is powerful. Deep. It moves nations. Friendship is important too, of course, but… a princess of it? I don’t know. Doesn’t feel… right.”

Ghost snorted, trying not to laugh, and shook his head.

“What?” Luna asked, confused.

He grinned. “Just… hearing you say that is funny. If only you knew how much the show bent itself into knots trying to say that friendship was the most powerful magic in all of Equestria. Like… world-saving levels of power.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “Well, it is important. I’m not saying it isn’t. Just… princess of friendship still sounds weird.”

Bonnie hummed thoughtfully, tail flicking. “Love makes sense. It connects people deeply. Has real stakes. But friendship? I’m with Luna on this one. If you’re a princess of friendship, it kinda sounds like you’d put your friends above everything else. Even when it’s not right.”

Ghost nodded with a sigh. “And that’s exactly something that bothered me in the show. Twilight’s not a bad character don’t get me wrong but yeah, there were some moments where she clearly bent rules or used her position a little unfairly in favor of her friends. It wasn’t super dramatic, but still… if you’re royalty, that kind of bias can be dangerous.”

Luna nodded seriously. “If she’s truly a princess, then she must learn the balance between personal loyalty and public duty. I shall have to make sure she understands that if we ever meet.”

Ghost smiled a little at that. “We’ve still got time. As far as I can tell, we’re near the start of the timeline. You were freed from Nightmare Moon about two months ago, yeah? That means Twilight hasn’t ascended yet. Won’t be a princess for quite a while.”

Luna hummed, nodding in understanding.

Then Bonnie leaned forward again, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “So, Luna… can I call you Moonbutt from now on?”

The flat, glacial look Luna gave her in response was so sharp, so withering, that even the grass seemed to lean away from her.

Bonnie’s ears drooped slightly… and then she started giggling again, clearly not taking the death glare seriously.

Ghost just smirked, watching the chaos slowly blossom around him like a perfectly balanced dream flower.

Ghost turned his head and looked between the two women, his eyes steady, then said with a calm tone that held a faint trace of amusement beneath it, “Let’s move on from the fandom for a little. We’ll be here all day if we get into it too deep maybe some other time. We did come here into my dream to see my world, right?”

Both Luna and Bonnie nodded in agreement. Luna added thoughtfully, “True. However, in the dream realm, time runs very differently. It flows… slow. So if we spend, say, two hours in here, it’ll have only been one hour in the waking world.”

Ghost tilted his head slightly, curious. “How does that work exactly?”

Luna exhaled with the sigh of someone who had clearly tried to explain dream magic more than once. “A lot of confusing dream magic that I do not want to get into. There’s too much theory, layered logic, magical law… You’d need to study dream theory, alchemy structures, dream-soul matrices ugh, no. Let’s just go with: it’s magic.”

Bonnie snorted lightly at that, and Ghost rolled his eyes. “Figures.”

He crossed his arms for a moment, then blinked his expression shifting. He looked down at himself, humming thoughtfully as his form began to shimmer, and before the women’s eyes, his body slowly morphed, the soft flicker of transformation flowing across him without any dramatic flashes or over-the-top magic. His fur disappeared, hooves reshaped, armor flexed and adjusted, and soon the stallion form of Ghost was gone replaced by the bipedal, tall, and broad-shouldered figure of Ghost in his full human glory.

Luna blinked as the shift settled and Ghost stood before them, his true body restored in dream-form. “Ghost? That… is that really you?” she asked, her eyes scanning his figure. “Why did you change?”

Ghost smiled, glancing down at his familiar hands with a deep sense of satisfaction. “Because I am human. This is who I was before I ended up in your world. Before I was a pony.”

Bonnie tilted her head, golden eyes wide as she walked up beside Luna, staring openly at his form. “Wait… so that’s what a human looks like? Wow. You weren’t lying you’re very similar to me. Just without the fur, or the snout, or ears. No tail either… but build-wise? Yeah, pretty much the same.”

Luna slowly circled him, her eyes fixed on every piece of his appearance the long limbs, the armor that reshaped itself perfectly to fit his human build, the hands, the boots, the silent presence he radiated even in a dream. “Fascinating. Even in this form… you are covered in your strange gear,” she remarked, her tone both amused and observational.

Ghost shrugged. “It fits. It's me.”

Bonnie gave a small nod. “Still… it’s pretty cool. Good to know what you really are.”

Ghost grinned more broadly now, energized not just by the form but by the sense of capability returning to him pure, unfettered physical control. He cracked his knuckles and looked at Bonnie. “So… Bonnie. You up for a mock fight? You’ve both fought me when I was a pony but never like this. This is me. My real body. My real strength.”

Bonnie’s face immediately paled, her ears flicking back as she took a nervous half-step backward. “I… uh…”

Luna stepped forward behind her without missing a beat and calmly pushed Bonnie forward with both front hooves. Bonnie stumbled, catching herself awkwardly, and snapped a glare back over her shoulder at Luna, who just looked innocently away as if she had done nothing. “You’ll be fine,” Luna said, brushing a strand of mane from her face. “You can’t be hurt in the dream realm. Well… you can, in a way. He can break your arm, but you won’t feel pain. At least, not unless he or I choose to make it hurt. Which we won’t. So… you’re safe.”

Bonnie did not look convinced. Her fur bristled, ears flattened, and her body stiffened.

Ghost’s grin grew wider. “Hell yes. I don’t have to hold back at all? Bonnie can’t feel pain? Can’t die? Ohhh, this is going to be fun.”

Bonnie’s eyes darted between the two of them, true desperation forming in her stare as she tried to silently plead with Luna to reconsider. Luna, still calm and unbothered, simply turned her head and pretended not to notice.

Ghost clapped his hands together. “Let’s do this, Bonnie! Come on!”

Bonnie let out the deepest, most defeated sigh a pirate could make, muttering under her breath, “Fuck me…” as she reached down and tapped the button on her enchanted pants. The waistband immediately released with a soft click, allowing her to quickly tuck her tail down into the interior. Then, with another tap, the pants sealed up again, the magic engaging with a quiet shimmer.

Bonnie turned and took a breath, forcing herself into a combat stance, legs wide, arms raised. Her tail now securely tucked, she nodded once.

Luna stepped back and lifted a foreleg. “I’ll count it in,” she said smoothly. “On go. Three… two… one… go!”

The second the word left Luna’s mouth, Ghost shot forward.

He moved like a bullet faster than anything they’d seen before. Far faster than in his pony form. He was a blur of muscle and speed, closing the distance in a heartbeat. Both women’s eyes widened in simultaneous realization that they had underestimated the raw power he held in this form.

Bonnie managed to throw a punch, a solid right hook aimed to meet him halfway but Ghost caught it without even flinching, his gloved hand wrapping cleanly around her knuckles, fingers locking into place like steel.

Then, without hesitation, he twisted.

SNAP.

The sound was loud. Sharp. Bonnie’s eyes flew wide in horror. No pain but the shock of seeing her arm break so effortlessly sent her mind into a spiral.

He wasn’t done.

Ghost moved low, sweeping her leg out from beneath her with a brutal force that snapped the joint as easily as breaking a twig. Her leg gave out completely, and she dropped but before she hit the ground, he drove a fist into her gut.

WHAM.

Her lungs emptied in a silent gasp, her body crumpling as air was forced out of her. No pain, but the sensation of losing all breath in a single moment hit hard.

As she dropped, Ghost’s eyes caught something the detail that slipped past him before.

Her tail.

Even while tucked down into her pants, the base of her tail wasn’t inside. It emerged from her back, just above the waistband, in a place that Ghost recognized instantly. Unlike a pony tail that emerged from the rump, Bonnie’s tail connected to her body just above her backside, at the tailbone.

And her pants weren’t designed for that.

Without hesitation, his combat instincts took over.

He reached forward, fingers slipping between the waistband and fur, and gripped the base of her tail. Despite how awkward it might have been, his training made the grab clean. With a yank fueled by full dream-force and no safety filters engaged, he ripped her tail out of the enchanted pants.

Luna gasped because the spell wasn’t supposed to allow that. The enchantment had force to it, anchored to DNA. But Ghost’s sheer momentum, combined with dream reality’s flexibility and his own mental will, overpowered it. Fur tore clean away from the waistband line, leaving bare skin exposed.

Ghost didn’t stop.

He twisted again, and with a sharp jerk

SNAP.

Her tailbone broke, clean and vicious.

Bonnie hadn’t even hit the grass yet when Ghost followed through, lifting one boot and bringing it down directly on her neck.

CRACK.

Her body hit the ground, unmoving. Her eyes stared up at him wide, helpless, frozen in horror. She wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be. But her body couldn’t move, not with her neck snapped.

And even though there was no pain… the fear in her eyes was very real.

Ghost stood above her, heart pumping, muscles vibrating with energy. He hadn’t felt this alive in what felt like ages. His breaths came steady, strong, eyes scanning her fallen form… but it was only now that he realized something was wrong.

Bonnie hadn’t gotten up.

Her body was trembling. Eyes locked on him. She wasn’t breathing hard from the fight.

She was shaking.

Behind him, Luna moved fast faster than expected. Her horn glowed and her magic washed over Bonnie like a soft wave, resetting bones, restoring fur, correcting every shattered part of her.

In a moment, Bonnie was whole again.

But she didn’t move.

She just lay there, curled slightly, her arms wrapped loosely around her middle. Her body still trembled.

Her eyes, now focused on Ghost again, were filled not with frustration, or playful fury, or the annoyance of a lost match.

They were filled with horror.

Real, soul-deep horror.

Luna stood just behind her, still staring at Ghost.

And her face was no different.

No teasing. No smirks.

Just wide, uncertain eyes.

For the first time since she had met him…

Luna was afraid.

Ghost stood still as a statue, his eyes locked on Bonnie’s trembling form, her body still curled on the grass, shaking despite the fact she had no injuries at least, none that remained physically. But he saw it in her face. Wide eyes. Muscles twitching. Breath shallow. And then there was Luna standing beside her, wings slightly flared, her mouth slightly open, eyes clouded with a mix of fear and protective instinct. Not fear for Bonnie… fear of him.

A weight settled hard in Ghost’s chest, like a stone that sank deeper with every second that passed. He let out a long, quiet sigh, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “I got a feeling… I went too far.”

No one responded. The silence of the dream realm was unnaturally thick silent wind across motionless grass, too clean, too still. He looked away, clenching his fists for a moment before relaxing them and speaking again with a soft breath.

“I’ll… walk over here. Give you two time. Time to calm down.”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked away, his boots barely making a sound on the dream grass. Each step he took seemed to carry more weight than the last not physical, but emotional. Regret. Shame. A flicker of dread he rarely allowed himself to feel.

He stood alone now, some distance away, head bowed slightly. The exhilaration he had felt just moments ago at moving freely, at fighting without restraint, was gone. All that was left was a hollow ache an echo of satisfaction twisted into self-reproach.

“I was so happy to have my body back…” he muttered to no one. “And look what I did.”

The thought stung deeper than he expected. He had fought to survive his entire life. Trained to fight. Trained to kill. But these women… they weren’t his enemies. And now, he feared he may have broken something far more fragile than bones.

POV: Bonnie

My body was still shaking.

I couldn’t stop.

Even with my breath back, even with Luna’s dream magic having repaired every broken bone, every cracked vertebra, every ripped strand of fur I just… couldn’t stop.

I lay there in the grass, arms limp at my sides, tail curled awkwardly beneath me. My heart was pounding so loud it drowned out everything else, and even though I kept telling myself, It’s a dream, it’s not real, I’m fine, my body refused to listen.

I clenched my teeth hard, locking my jaw tight as I fought to regain control. But even then, even through grit and effort, I could feel it my limbs trembling, breath catching, eyes wet. It wasn’t pain. I’d felt no pain. But the fear? It felt real. Realer than anything I’d felt since arriving in this world.

Then, suddenly, soft warmth. A gentle body against mine. Wings wrapping around my frame. A quiet breath beside my ear.

Luna.

She didn’t say anything right away. She just held me. Sat beside me and wrapped both front legs around my shoulders as both her wings curled around my back like a blanket. I leaned into her without thinking, burying my muzzle against the soft fur of her chest as my body shook against hers.

“It’s okay, Bonnie,” she whispered softly, her breath warm and steady. “Calm down. You’re safe. You’re fine. You’re not hurt.”

She kept whispering that over and over, her voice as soft as moonlight, and slowly slowly the trembling started to fade. One of her hooves gently rubbed my back in slow circles. She didn’t rush me. Didn’t try to stop the shaking. She just… stayed with me.

I don’t know how long we sat like that. Minutes? Hours? Time didn’t mean much in this dream. All I know is that eventually, my breathing slowed. My heart stopped pounding. My arms stopped twitching. I sat up a little straighter, still leaning on her side, and whispered, “Yeah… I’m okay now. Thanks.”

Luna didn’t pull away. She nodded softly, keeping the hug going.

Then she did something unexpected.

She leaned in and gently rubbed her cheek against mine. I blinked in surprise and looked at her as she pulled back.

She smiled gently. “We ponies are… a very touchy species, believe it or not. Physical affection, contact it’s part of who we are. Hugs, snuggles, nuzzles… It’s all part of how we connect. I haven’t done it much since joining you and Ghost because I noticed neither of you are the touchy type. I assumed you didn’t like it.”

I gave a slow nod. “You’re right. I don’t. Or at least… not with just anyone. I don’t hate being touched, I’m just… careful about who. I don’t want random people putting their hands on me. But you? Ghost?” I paused. “I’m fine with you two.”

Luna nodded, her expression gentle. “Ghost may be a pony now, but his mind is still human. That’s not going to change, no matter what his body looks like.”

She hesitated for a second, then asked, “Are you okay with him? Really? You were… your face went pale. You were shaking so badly. Are you really okay?”

I was quiet for a moment. Then I nodded. “Yeah. I’m better. But Luna… I was scared. So scared.”

I looked into her eyes, trying to explain it as best I could. “We both had mock fights with him when he was a pony. And sure, he was better than us then, but it was manageable. But that? Just now? That was something else.”

I shook my head slowly. “Luna… in that fight? When he turned human? That was terrifying. You saw it. His movements. His precision. The way he countered everything I threw at him? He caught my punch. Caught it. With one hand. Didn’t dodge. Didn’t block. Caught it. I put everything into that hit. And he caught it like I was swinging in slow motion.”

I exhaled hard. “Then he broke my arm. My leg. Even my tail. Luna, do you know how small the base of my tail is?” I turned, flipping my fluffy tail forward, then twisted my upper body to show her my lower back. “Look. Right there. That tiny little nub above my pants? That’s it. That’s where it connects. That’s what he grabbed.”

I turned back, wide-eyed, and let go of my tail. “He got it as I was falling. He saw that little patch and still managed to grab it, even with me going down, and rip it out of my pants. The enchantment didn’t even stop him. Then he snapped it.”

I shuddered. “I’ve never broken a bone in my tail before. I didn’t even know what that felt like. And then… he broke my neck. I hit the ground, and all I could do was look at him. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even breathe. Just… fear. Pure fear.”

I swallowed. “And I know it wasn’t real. No pain. No damage. You fixed me. But Luna… I felt it. The snap. The pressure. The weight. That’s something I never want to feel again.”

I paused, looking down at my hands.

“Luna… what kind of world does Ghost come from? What kind of life builds someone like that? A soldier so trained he can do that without thinking? That wasn’t a fight. That was a reminder. A reminder of how dangerous he really is.”

Luna didn’t speak.

Because she had no answer.

She just stared out toward Ghost, still standing in the grass far away alone and silent. And in that moment, she realized something with a clarity that chilled her.

They hadn’t just found a protector.

They had found something far more terrifying.

Something built to end wars… and shaped by a world that clearly needed that kind of weapon.

Luna let out a long, quiet sigh, the kind that came not from frustration, but from the weight of honesty pressing against her chest. Her wings gently curled back to her sides as she leaned a little closer to Bonnie. Her eyes, still watching Ghost standing alone in the grass ahead, softened not with affection, but with conflicted worry, admiration, and fear woven together in threads she didn’t yet know how to separate.

“I don’t know, Bonnie,” she said quietly, almost a whisper. “I really don’t.”

Bonnie turned slightly to face her more fully, eyes searching Luna’s expression with gentle concern. “Luna… were you scared, too?” she asked softly. “When you ran over to me? When Ghost walked away and you stood beside me? You… you looked bad. Not just shaken. You looked like you were afraid.”

Luna was silent for a long moment.

Then she nodded.

“I’ll be honest with you, Bonnie,” she said, her voice low and steady. “I’ve seen many things in my life. Creatures of nightmare. Horrors that could drive minds into madness. I’ve walked through the deepest darkness of ponies’ fears, and I’ve been one of those fears myself. But what I saw just now? That… I have never seen.”

She looked at Bonnie now, eyes serious and unwavering.

“I have never seen someone that well trained… and that willing to kill. Even if this was just a dream. Even if there was no pain, no real consequence… I saw it. He got into it. Not mindlessly. Not with bloodlust. But with discipline. He moved like it was second nature. No hesitation. No wasted motion. And yes, Bonnie… I was scared.”

Bonnie’s ears flicked back a little, her eyes still wide.

Luna looked away, her gaze fixed on the horizon as if she were looking at more than just dream-grass. “I think Ghost… could kill me. Or even my sister.”

Bonnie’s jaw slackened slightly.

Luna nodded again, slowly. “That might sound impossible. After all, me and Celestia… we are not just princesses of Equestria. We are among the most powerful beings in the world. Our magic, our strength, our connection to the celestial bodies… it’s ancient, deep, almost sacred. Killing an alicorn isn’t just rare it’s unheard of.”

She inhaled softly. “But Ghost? He’s not like any creature I’ve ever met. He doesn’t rely on magic or raw power. He relies on something else. Training. Determination. Purpose. The kind of purpose that can’t be distracted or outmaneuvered.”

She turned back to Bonnie. “And Bonnie… me and Celestia are very hard to fool. Or to outthink. We’ve had centuries to master strategy. But Ghost? He’s fought in real wars. He’s seen death. Survived it. He might be the kind of being who could pull it off. He’s not stronger than us… but smarter. Sharper. And so, yes. I’m afraid.”

Bonnie looked down at her hands in her lap, tail gently curling beside her leg.

Luna added gently, “But… not of him.”

Bonnie looked up at that, confusion creasing her face.

“I’m not afraid of Ghost,” Luna clarified. “I’m afraid of what he can do. What he’s capable of. But didn’t you see it? He realized the moment he crossed a line. The moment he walked away? The guilt was all over his face. You and I both know he hides his emotions well. But that? That wasn’t hidden at all. He regrets what he did to you.”

Bonnie stared out across the field at him. Ghost hadn’t moved since he walked off. He just stood there, staring down, his arms loose at his sides, his stance still. She nodded slowly, ears twitching with thought.

“You know what…” she said quietly, “now that I really think about it… I think I feel the same as you.”

She looked at Luna again. “I’m scared. Yeah. But not of Ghost. I’m scared at what he can do. That fight? That wasn’t training. That was full power. Raw, real, efficient killing. And I know… deep down… he’d never hurt us. Not on purpose. Not for real.”

She let out a long breath. “He really does care about us. Even if he doesn’t show it the way most do.”

Luna nodded softly, her eyes misting over slightly. “Indeed.”

There was a moment of silence again, but it wasn’t cold. It wasn’t heavy. It was reflective. Understanding. A new thread of something passed between them respect, shared experience, and a quietly building loyalty that didn’t need to be spoken.

After a long moment, Bonnie sat up a little straighter, brushing her tail across her lap, her voice steadying with purpose.

“Well,” she said with a grin that was tired but real, “he’s not losing us. Hell no. After everything we’ve been through? Fuck that. We’re with him to the end, no matter what.”

She smiled wider now. “Sure, that fight? That put a strain on our little group. But families fight sometimes. Who doesn’t have problems now and then? No one’s perfect. Not me. Not you. And not Ghost.”

Luna’s lips curled into a slow, genuine smile, and she leaned her head against Bonnie’s shoulder just for a moment, like a quiet affirmation.

“Yes,” she said softly. “You’re right.”

Then she turned her head, looking up at Bonnie’s eyes again. “So… not crew this time?”

Bonnie looked down at her, ears lifting. “What do you mean?”

Luna’s smile grew warmer. “I mean… not just a crew. A family.”

Bonnie’s smile widened. Her golden eyes softened. “You and Ghost… you’ve been the best family I’ve ever had. Way more loving than my old one. I know you both care about me. Ghost showed it when he saved us from that timberwolf attack. When he trained us. When he protected us even when he didn’t have to.”

She paused, then added with a playful but fond look, “He hides it so well but you and I? We’ve seen the signs. We know what to look for. And it’s there.”

Luna nodded, her eyes drifting back toward the distant figure of Ghost in the field, her voice gentle but sure.

“Yes… he really does.”

Bonnie pushed herself to her feet slowly, her tail curling slightly behind her as she turned toward Luna, her expression steady, but her eyes still holding a trace of everything they had just talked about fear, resolve, and something stronger: love.

“Well,” she said with a faint breath, brushing her fur down where it had fluffed from stress, “let’s go. Last thing we need is for Ghost to think we hate him.”

Luna nodded without hesitation, rising beside her. “Agreed.”

The two of them walked side by side through the dream-grass. The air was calm, but the silence between them and Ghost who stood alone in the distance, unmoving felt heavier than before. As they approached, Ghost lifted his head slightly, just enough to register their presence.

He saw them coming. But he didn’t move.

And as they drew closer, close enough to stand face to face, they could see it really see it.

Ghost’s usual stone expression, the emotionless calm that always masked whatever storm churned behind his eyes, was failing him. The edges of his mouth were drawn down ever so slightly, his brow furrowed just faintly. His shoulders were tense not in readiness, but in restraint. But it was his eyes that betrayed him. There, clear and unmistakable, was guilt. And worry. Real, raw, and vulnerable. He was trying to bury it behind discipline. But he couldn’t.

Bonnie sighed gently as she looked up at him. Then, without hesitation, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

Ghost blinked, surprised. His arms stayed at his sides, frozen for a moment, his whole posture stiff with uncertainty.

Bonnie held the hug tight.

“Ghost,” she said softly, her voice steady, but filled with warmth, “I want to make this clear. I do not hate you. At all.”

He blinked again. His hands twitched.

“Did you go too far? Yeah. You did,” Bonnie admitted, her cheek resting against his chest, arms firm around him. “Did I fear you in that fight? Oh hell yeah. I was terrified.”

She pulled back just slightly, enough to look up into his eyes.

“But do I fear you now? No. I don’t. I fear what you can do, Ghost. But I don’t fear you. And I sure as hell don’t hate you.”

He looked down at her slowly, the tension in his body still thick, his lips parted as if unsure what to say.

Bonnie smiled, soft and real. “We’re a crew. No screw that. We’re a family. And no family is perfect. Ghost, we all make mistakes. You made one. That’s life. Trust me… life in the Spiral, growing up as a pirate? I made plenty of them. But you’re not losing us. Never. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

There was a long pause. Then, finally, Ghost’s arms lifted and wrapped around Bonnie. Not gently. Not slowly. He pulled her in, hard, burying her against his chest in a tight, unshakable hug.

His voice, muffled by emotion, came out soft. “I’m sorry, Bonnie… I am. I was just so pumped to be human again… to feel like myself. I got caught up in it.”

There was silence again. Luna stood just to the side, watching, and her lips curled into a quiet, knowing smile as she saw them holding each other.

Ghost let out a breath, his voice lightening just slightly as he whispered, “Your fur’s really soft.”

Bonnie let out a giggle despite herself, muffled against his armor.

Luna giggled too, stepping closer.

“I mean it,” Ghost said again, managing the smallest of smiles. “It really is.”

He relaxed just a little, the hug still firm but no longer trembling. “It’s weird, you know. There’s a big difference between being a pony and being human. Everything feels different. The body. The balance. The way emotions hit. But I guess that’s not something I’ve talked to either of you about. I’ve kept it hidden. Buried. Like everything else.”

He exhaled, long and deep. “But the truth is… being in a pony body? I hate it. I really do. It doesn’t feel like me. It never has.”

Bonnie blinked, hugging him tighter.

“You two are lucky,” he said, voice softer now. “Bonnie, you kept your body. Luna, sure, you were Nightmare Moon, but you were still a pony. Still you. But me? I lost it. I lost what I was. You can’t imagine what it feels like to look in the mirror and see something that isn’t you. To move and feel foreign in your own skin. I’ve been living as something I’m not.”

His voice cracked faintly. “You can’t know how it feels to be something you're not.”

Luna stepped forward now, eyes soft with sadness and understanding. She wrapped her wings around both of them, joining the embrace.

Bonnie’s voice came gently. “Ghost… I wish you’d told us sooner. I really do.”

Luna nodded in agreement, eyes filled with quiet regret. “I… never stopped to think how deeply that affected you,” she said softly. “I’ve been so caught up in healing, in understanding this world again. But you’re right. I kept my body. And Bonnie too. But you didn’t. And I’m sorry I didn’t see it.”

Ghost said nothing. Just held them both.

Bonnie’s voice came again, gentle and honest. “Ghost… be honest with us. Not physically. Mentally. How are you? Really?”

He sighed long and deep, his shoulders rising and falling slowly as the words began to surface.

“Honestly?” he said quietly. “Not the best.”

“I know I never show it. That’s just my training. You learn to keep everything sealed up tight. But I’m in a body that isn’t mine. And I’m pretty damn sure I died to get here. I’m not over that.”

He looked away slightly, eyes fixed on the grass beyond their embrace.

“How do you even begin to process that? Knowing you died but you’re still alive? Even with all my training, there are some things they don’t prepare you for. And this? This is one of them.”

He looked back down at them, his voice barely a whisper. “I know I seem all stoic. Calm. In control. But at the end of the day, I’m still a living being. I’ve got feelings. I’m just really, really good at hiding them.”

Bonnie pulled him harder into the hug, as tight as she could without crushing him. Luna pressed her wings tighter too, her muzzle resting against the side of his arm.

For a moment, none of them said anything.

And then, soft and shaky, Ghost exhaled again. “Thank you… for not hating me.”

Without hesitation, both women replied in unison, their voices firm, filled with truth:

“Never.”

“We’re family. To the end.”

Another moment passed in silence.

Then, slowly, a small smile pulled at the edge of Ghost’s mouth.

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t need to.

Chapter Text

After a long, warm moment of silence shared between the three of them in that tight, supportive embrace, Ghost let out a soft sigh not one of burden this time, but of relief, like the pressure in his chest had finally lifted.

“…I’m good now,” he said quietly.

As one, both Luna and Bonnie loosened their grips and stepped back from him, their eyes soft, expressions calm but content. The tension had passed, the weight of fear and misunderstanding dissipating like morning fog under the sun.

Ghost looked between them and gave a tired, but sincere smile one of those rare smiles that actually reached his eyes. He exhaled a soft breath and added, half-grinning now, “For a moment there, I was genuinely worried Bonnie was going to kiss me.”

Both Luna and Bonnie let out small bursts of giggles at that, their ears flicking playfully as they finally saw him joking again an unmistakable sign that Ghost was truly beginning to feel better. Luna covered her muzzle with a wing, stifling laughter, while Bonnie crossed her arms and tilted her head with a sly grin curling across her face.

“Nope,” Bonnie said smoothly, her tone teasing but cool. “Not today, Ghost.”

Then, she narrowed her eyes just a bit, giving him a slow once-over, and with a flick of her tail, added with mock flirtation, “Well… unless you want one. I’d be willing to let one go.”

Ghost rolled his eyes with a lopsided grin. “Come on now. We both know you’re lying there, Bonnie. We’ve only known each other for like… what, two months?” He shrugged. “Honestly, I stopped keeping track.”

Bonnie’s smirk didn’t budge. Her golden eyes narrowed just slightly as she deadpanned, “Ghost, in those same two months, you’ve saved my life. You’ve washed my body when I couldn’t move. You’ve seen me naked so often, it’s basically normal now. And even if you didn’t want to, you’ve had to touch pretty much every part of my body front to back, top to toe. At this point, you really think I wouldn’t go for a kiss? A simple, normal, non-freaky kiss? That’s the least intimate thing we’ve done.”

Ghost blinked slowly, absorbing that, his head tilting ever so slightly as her words sank in. Then, dry as ever, he said with a low mutter, “…You know, pointing it all out like that really makes me sound like a perv.”

Bonnie’s smirk widened into a full, mischievous grin. “Yeah,” she said with no apology, “it really does.”

Then, she leaned in a bit and added, “Lucky for you, me and Luna know you’re not a perv. You did all that because you care about us. There’s a big difference between someone being a perv and someone doing what you did because you give a damn. Ghost, if I thought you were a perv, I wouldn’t have been walking around naked in front of you half as much as I have. In fact, you’ve never once stared at my body. Not even once. Even when I was totally exposed, you always looked like you were trying to not notice.”

She pointed at him lightly. “So no you’re not a perv. As for the dirty jokes?” She turned and jerked a thumb at Luna, grinning. “That’s her department.”

Luna huffed dramatically, her wings flaring in mock offense. “Excuse me?” she said, though she was smiling, clearly amused. “I happen to have a refined sense of humor, thank you.”

Bonnie snorted. “Refined my tail.”

Then, Luna tilted her head toward Bonnie with a devilish twinkle in her eye. “So then… are you going to give him that kiss?”

Ghost turned toward her, narrowing his eyes. “I never said I wanted it,” he said firmly only to look back and realize that Bonnie had stepped in closer, her smile unchanged, her expression unreadable but playful.

Before he could process it

She leaned in.

Her lips pressed to his, firm and warm, soft but not lingering. The kiss was short. Barely a few seconds. But it was real undeniable. And before Ghost could react, before he could return it or retreat or even register what the hell had just happened, she pulled away.

Smirking.

Her arms crossed, golden eyes glinting, tail flicking smugly behind her.

“Not bad,” she said casually.

Then, still grinning, she turned toward Luna, as if just to really sell the point, and gave her a look one of those I-told-you-so, this-was-just-to-prove-a-point expressions.

Luna rolled her eyes and shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips even as she groaned softly.

Ghost just stood there, blinking. Still frozen.

The kiss had come out of nowhere, and the way Bonnie looked at him afterward made it very clear that it wasn’t romantic not really. Not passionate. Not emotional. No secret love confession hidden behind it. It was a challenge. A rebuttal. A flex. A statement of: “See? We’re that close. We trust you that much. Deal with it.”

Ghost exhaled slowly, running a hand down his face, then chuckled softly under his breath.

“…This dream is so dumb,” he muttered.

But he was smiling.

Ghost let his eyes drift from Bonnie to Luna, then back again, watching the two women as they stood in the grass beside him, dream winds brushing through their manes and fur like soft whispers. He rubbed the back of his neck absently, rolling his shoulders as he exhaled.

“Well…” he said finally, eyes resting on both of them, “do we still want to see my world? After everything?”

Bonnie tilted her head slightly, golden eyes narrowing with curiosity, but there was a teasing edge to her voice as she answered with mock disappointment. “No comment on my kiss at all?” she asked, arching a brow at him. “I know damn well I’ve got soft lips.”

Ghost ignored her flatly, turning his head just slightly like he hadn’t heard a word.

Bonnie sighed and rolled her eyes hard enough to make her whole head follow. “Wow. Rude.”

Luna giggled softly behind a hoof, her wings giving a light flutter of amusement.

Bonnie huffed, tail flicking in annoyance, then answered properly. “Yes. I still want to see your world.”

Luna nodded right away. “Me too.”

Ghost hesitated, his smile fading as his brow furrowed. He looked off into the distance again into the horizon of his own subconscious.

“…Okay,” he said slowly, voice a little heavier now. “But I’m starting to have second thoughts about showing you the war. What I’ve been through. If… if I scared you, Bonnie and you too, Luna,” he added, eyes cutting sideways to her. “Don’t think I didn’t see your face when I walked away. I did. You looked scared.”

Luna huffed softly but didn’t speak. She turned her head just slightly, her silence answering for her.

Ghost nodded faintly, continuing. “If that shook you… then I’m not sure showing you what I actually went through is such a good idea.”

But before he could go any further, Bonnie stepped forward, eyes locking onto his with a fire that wasn’t there just moments ago. Her voice came out sharp, clear, and absolutely unshaken.

“Fuck yes I want to see it,” she said. “Ghost I want to see everything. I want to see what made you the way you are. I want to know why you were trained like that. Why you had to become so deadly. So efficient at ending life.”

Ghost blinked, not expecting that kind of force from her. Even Luna’s head turned toward Bonnie now, surprise in her eyes.

Bonnie didn’t flinch.

“Sure, every army needs training,” she continued, tone never dropping. “But what you did to me? That was beyond training. That wasn’t just elite that was something else. Something deeper. Something terrifying. And I want to know. Why was it needed? What world needs people like you? What kind of place trains someone to move like that? Kill like that? I want to see it, Ghost. I want to understand.”

Ghost stared at her, brows raised slightly, completely caught off-guard by her intensity. He could read her easily now not anger, not judgment, but curiosity. Deep, determined curiosity. Not to condemn him… but to understand him. To see all of him.

Then, softly, Luna’s voice joined in.

“I agree,” she said quietly, but her words carried the same strength. “I want to know your background, Ghost. I want to see what shaped you. What made you who you are.”

She took a step forward, her tone growing more sure.

“You’re very skilled. At this point, I can say without a shadow of a doubt you are the most dangerous, most skilled fighter I’ve ever seen. Not just in Equestria. Not in the last thousand years. I mean anywhere. Not even the royal guard before my banishment came close to what you showed me today.”

She looked directly into his eyes now.

“And yes. I believe you could kill me. Or Celestia. If you wanted to. And you know how big of a statement that is. You know how powerful me and my sister are.”

Ghost didn’t say a word. He just listened. Every word they said weighed heavier.

“So yes,” Luna said again, voice softer now. “I want to see your past. I want to see your world.”

Ghost was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly… he nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “You’ll see it.”

But Bonnie held up a hand with a grin creeping back across her face.

“Wait. Before we start,” she said, golden eyes glinting with mischievous delight, “I’ve got one request.”

Ghost tilted his head, wary. “Alright… what is it?”

Bonnie smirked, turning to Luna. “You have to fight Luna one time. Go all out just like you did with me.”

Ghost blinked, brows rising. “Wait, what?”

Luna’s ears immediately snapped up and back, her head jerking toward Bonnie with a sharp glare.

Bonnie met it head-on, not backing down an inch. “Don’t you give me that look, Miss ‘I pushed you into the fight.’ Don’t think I forgot that. You shoved me at Ghost and told me I’d be fine. So yeah you get to return the favor. Fair is fair.”

Her smirk turned smug. “Besides… we’re in a dream. No pain, no death. That’s exactly what you told me, remember?”

Luna’s glare intensified, her jaw tightening ever so slightly.

She really didn’t like her own words being used against her.

But Bonnie’s grin was impossible to argue with and Ghost, for once, had no witty comeback. He just blinked, lips slightly parted as he looked from one woman to the other.

Ghost turned to Luna with calm seriousness in his voice, keeping his expression neutral but his tone honest. “Luna? You want to?” he asked, leaving the choice in her hooves. “You don’t have to.”

Luna hesitated visibly, clearly torn between reason and pride, her ears twitching back slightly as she looked between Ghost and Bonnie. Her wings gave a soft fidget as she worked through her options and before she could answer, Bonnie cut in with a smirk on her muzzle, arms folded tight and golden eyes gleaming.

“Ha! What’s wrong? You scared, Luna?”

Luna’s head jerked sharply toward Bonnie with a hard glare, nostrils flaring.

Then, without taking her eyes off Bonnie, she spoke with icy confidence, “Fine. I’ll fight. To prove I’m not scared and to do better than you, who got your ass handed to you.”

Bonnie smirked, unfazed. “Oh, I hope you do better. You at least got to see him go all out me? I walked in blind and got wrecked in seconds. I’ll proudly admit I got flattened.” She leaned forward slightly, smile widening. “But trust me I’m so ready to see your ass get handed back.”

Luna huffed, lifting her chin proudly. “I’m not going down so easily. Now that I know what I’m up against, I stand a small chance.”

Bonnie snorted aloud. “No, you don’t. You literally just said Ghost could kill you and your sister. Don’t even try it.”

Luna narrowed her eyes into slits, her jaw clenched, and her glare intensified clearly annoyed to have her own words turned against her.

Then she turned her head toward Ghost and said through a tight tone, “Come on, Ghost. Let’s go. I need to show Bonnie the difference between a pirate and an alicorn.”

With that, Luna walked away, putting distance between them with proud, measured steps. Her wings twitched at her sides, her horn already glowing softly in preparation. The ground shimmered beneath her hooves as her magic coiled and pulsed in the dream realm, preparing for full-on combat.

Ghost exhaled with a calm smile, watching her. “This is going to be interesting.”

Bonnie stepped back, arms crossed but eager as Luna and Ghost squared off at opposite ends of a wide, flat stretch of dream grass. Luna’s horn was already glowing brighter now, magic ready. Ghost rolled his shoulders and crouched slightly, eyes focused.

Bonnie lifted a hand. “Alright! Let’s do this three, two, one, go!”

The instant the word “go” left Bonnie’s mouth, a bright blue laser ripped through the air, scorching the spot Ghost had been standing in a half second before. His eyes had gone wide and he’d thrown himself left, barely evading the blast. The beam sliced through the dream terrain with deadly precision, dispersing in a burst of magical heat.

Ghost rolled onto his feet and shot Luna a sharp glare no words, but it was clear what he was thinking.

She opened with lethal force.

Luna stood firm, her horn glowing hot. Her expression was steady, focused she wasn’t smiling. She was in full combat mindset. Ghost narrowed his eyes, recognizing that she wasn’t going to hold back not for a second.

She fired again another beam, faster than the last. Ghost ducked under it, flipping back over his shoulder into cover.

Then the world changed.

Ghost's mind bent the dream, warping it to his advantage. Tall stone walls erupted from the ground like towers being summoned from the earth, forming an uneven maze across the once-open field. Luna blinked at the sudden terrain shift but immediately adapted, adjusting her stance and scanning the walls.

Ghost moved fast wall to wall, bouncing from cover to cover like a phantom. Luna turned, firing beam after beam at the stone barriers, shattering them in bursts of light and debris as she backpedaled slowly, trying to track him. Her magic burned clean through the stone, but Ghost was never where she aimed.

More walls rose. More cover.

Luna’s eyes darted, her horn surging as she switched tactics. The ground rumbled beneath her hooves and in a sudden motion, she ripped a massive boulder of dream-crafted dirt and stone from the earth. With a harsh breath, she hurled it directly at Ghost.

Ghost’s eyes widened. “SHIIIIIIIIIT !”

He ran full tilt, body angled low, sprinting for an escape. He hit the dirt hard, diving into a freshly formed foxhole just as the massive boulder slammed into the ground behind him, shaking the entire dreamscape and kicking up a storm of dust and rubble.

Coughing, Ghost waved the air aside, pushing to his feet and when the dust cleared, he saw Luna standing atop a small rise, looking very smug.

But the moment she spotted him standing unharmed, her smugness vanished. Her face shifted frustrated, more alert.

Ghost narrowed his eyes. Time to shift the playing field again.

The dream changed around them once more now transforming into a fully constructed military cadet training complex. Dozens of rooms, reinforced walls, doors, breached entries, mock staircases it looked like an entire combat course had been dropped into the dream.

Ghost vanished into it without a sound.

Luna stood still, looking around unable to see him now. He was hidden in the maze, silent, calculating. A full cat-and-mouse hunt had begun.

Ghost moved quietly, sliding along walls, checking corners, slipping through doors. His footfalls were silent, breathing controlled, every motion like a phantom in the dark.

Then he saw her.

Luna was in another room, scanning the hallways. But fate wasn’t on Ghost’s side she was already looking his way when he peeked around the corner.

She fired instantly. A beam of raw light ripped across the air, missing Ghost’s head by inches.

He ducked.

And then she charged a bigger spell a dome of pure magic burst out from her horn and expanded in all directions, annihilating everything in the area.

Ghost ran, no hesitation. As the wave chased him, he dropped to the ground and dove into another foxhole just in time. The spell roared over him, shaking the space with pressure and force.

When it passed, the entire training structure was in ruins. Fake walls shattered, doors blasted apart, debris everywhere.

Ghost crawled forward slowly, keeping low to the ground.

He began to snake his way toward her, using the wreckage as cover. Her back was turned she was scanning for movement.

His eyes locked in. He reached for his combat knife.

He picked up a piece of broken wood and threw it.

It clattered loudly behind her.

Luna spun instantly releasing a beam of light at the noise. But it hit nothing.

Ghost was already moving.

He rose quickly threw the knife hard

THUNK.

The blade buried itself in her back left leg, deep enough to draw blood. Luna’s eyes went wide, and her leg gave out beneath her with a gasp not of pain, but of shock.

She hit the ground, twisting her neck to see the knife sticking out of her leg.

But Ghost was gone again.

Circling.

Flanking.

She shifted her weight to stand and heard footsteps behind her.

She whipped her head around, charging a spell.

Ghost, already close, threw the same piece of wood it struck her horn with a crack, making her magic misfire and her head jerk.

In that instant, Ghost closed the gap he was on her, raising a hand for the finishing move.

Luna’s eyes went wide in shock then POP she vanished in a flash of teleportation.

Ghost blinked, halted mid-swing then POP he heard it again behind him.

He turned just in time to see a massive ball of magic flying toward him.

His eyes widened.

“OH, COME O ”

He dove as the magic ball exploded against the ground behind him, the shockwave ripping apart debris and hurling chunks of wood and stone through the air.

Ghost rolled, slammed into cover, heart pounding.

That was it.

No more holding back.

He summoned his full tactical loadout his M4 rifle, mags, grenades, full armor. In the dream realm, it all came back to him like muscle memory.

He crawled from cover, pulled a grenade, pulled the pin threw it hard.

It landed near Luna.

She looked down, blinking in confusion at the strange object.

Then BOOM.

The grenade exploded, rocking the battlefield. Luna screamed not in pain, but pure shock. When the smoke cleared, the side of her body was bloody, shrapnel embedded deep. Her legs were shaky, breathing hard. She looked down at herself, disoriented.

Ghost peeked from cover. Perfect.

He stood up, raised his M4.

Luna looked up.

Their eyes met.

BANG.

A single bullet slammed into her forehead, tearing clean through and exiting out the back.

Luna collapsed without a sound.

The dream battlefield went still.

Bonnie let out a long, loud whistle, her voice echoing through the silence.

“…Well,” she said, arms crossed again, “that answers that.”

Ghost stood still for a moment, breathing heavily, chest rising and falling with quick, shallow pulls of air. His hands trembled slightly from adrenaline, his mind still reeling from the sheer intensity of the fight he had just been in. His heart pounded in his chest, loud in his ears. That had been far more than a mock spar Luna hadn’t just played with spells. She had gone all out. Combat-level casting, high-output spell bursts, and dream-crafted terrain devastation that showed the raw reach of an alicorn’s might.

He hadn’t expected that.

Yet… he’d won.

He didn’t feel cocky about it just surprised. For a moment, Ghost simply looked around the shattered battlefield, then lifted one hand, willing the dream world to shift. All around him, the debris, shattered walls, ripped doors, smoking blast craters, and ruined training course vanished. The landscape rippled, flattening and smoothing out until it was once again the peaceful open grass field under the blue sky. Just like it had been before the fight. Like nothing had ever happened.

Except Ghost was still panting. Still catching his breath.

And Luna’s body was still lying in the grass.

His eyes shifted toward her. She was sitting up now, blinking, eyes wide but conscious. The gaping wound in her head where the bullet had passed was already healed, the damage reversed by her dream magic. She looked dazed, like she was still trying to process what had just happened.

But Ghost noticed something: she hadn’t healed anything else.

Her entire left side was still torn up, soaked in blood, riddled with embedded shrapnel. Her wing looked mangled beyond belief, hanging half-detached, feathers blown out, the thin bones twisted awkwardly. Ghost couldn’t help but raise a brow.

“Why… haven’t you healed that?” he asked, walking over to her slowly.

Bonnie joined him a moment later, still amped up from the fight, her tail swishing behind her, eyes practically glowing with how hyped she was. The fight clearly left a huge impression.

Ghost knelt down beside Luna and reached toward her leg. His fingers wrapped around the handle of his combat knife still embedded in her flesh. With a firm tug, he yanked it free. Blood spilled out around the deep wound as Luna winced slightly.

“I want this back,” Ghost said, holding up the knife and wiping the blood from it on his pant leg before sliding it back into his sheath.

Luna looked down at the hole left in her leg and finally lit her horn again. A soft glow surrounded the injury, and the muscle and fur quickly reknit themselves, sealing the wound closed in moments. But she still didn’t touch the side of her body still soaked in blood, and the wing still mangled.

Ghost raised a brow. “So… not going to fix the rest?”

Luna shook her head slowly, eyes fixed on her side. “Not yet. Whatever that small ball thing was that you threw at me… I want to see the real damage. No healing it. I want to understand what it actually did.”

She turned her body slightly and looked down at her side fully. The second she did, her eyes widened.

Her entire left flank was bloodied. Deep lacerations crisscrossed her ribs and hip. Chunks of flesh were missing. Several shards of foreign, dark metal were embedded across her side. Her wing the most fragile part of her body was nearly torn off. It hung from just a few thin strands of skin and ligament, twisted and broken.

Bonnie let out a long, low whistle, visibly stunned. “Holy shit, Luna,” she muttered, staring. “Your side is so fucking messed up. Your wing, too. I mean damn. If this wasn’t a dream, I think you’d have bled out in seconds.”

Luna’s expression was calm, but her eyes were still wide, almost in disbelief as she examined the extent of the dream-realistic wounds.

“I… I didn’t expect that,” she admitted softly.

Then both she and Bonnie turned toward Ghost, who stood beside them calmly, his arms crossed now, watching them.

Bonnie’s voice was sharp with curiosity. “What the hell was that thing you threw? That small… ball? It did all that damage?”

Luna nodded slowly. “Yes. I want to know, too.”

Ghost shrugged casually and then reached into the air, summoning another grenade into his hand. “It’s called a grenade,” he explained. “A small explosive. Standard issue for every soldier in my army.”

He held it up so they could both see it clearly a small, metallic cylinder with a pin and a curved safety lever.

Bonnie and Luna leaned closer, eyes locked on it.

Ghost pointed to the top. “You pull this pin,” he said, demonstrating but keeping the lever tightly held, “then toss it.”

He pulled the pin and, with a practiced flick, chucked it hard away from them.

The grenade landed a distance off and exploded with a thunderous boom, shaking the grass field around them. Dirt and shrapnel sprayed up into the air. Luna and Bonnie both flinched slightly at the sound, ears twitching hard.

Ghost glanced at their expressions and smirked faintly. “Yeah. Small package very big punch.”

Bonnie stared at the smoke rising from the blast site, her ears pinned back slightly. “That’s insane. I mean… in my world, sure, we had bombs. Big stuff. But that? That tiny thing caused that much?”

Ghost nodded. “Yup. That’s the scary thing. It’s small, fast, easy to carry, and everyone in my unit has one.”

Luna finally looked back down at her side, studying it one more time, then nodded and lit her horn. Her healing spell surged across her entire left side now, slowly mending the shredded tissue, pulling the metal shards out, sealing the torn muscles, and realigning the wing. When the spell ended, she looked brand new no injuries, no cracks, no burns.

Except for the blood, which she didn’t bother removing.

She looked back up at Ghost, her eyes steady. “And what was that at the end of our fight?” she asked. “I’m… not sure what happened. You pointed something at me, there was a bang, and then… darkness.”

Ghost nodded and reached behind his shoulder. He summoned his M4 assault rifle, slinging it down in front of him and holding it across his chest.

Bonnie leaned in curiously. Luna’s eyes narrowed slightly, examining the weapon.

Bonnie looked more intrigued than shocked. She knew what a firearm was kind of but the one Ghost held was nothing like what she was used to.

Ghost nodded. This is called an M4. Standard military assault rifle. In my world, this is one of the most reliable guns used by special forces and front-line infantry.”

Bonnie tilted her head. “What does it shoot? I didn’t see anything.”

Ghost paused, then remembered. “Right… your world’s guns fire magic-like blasts. Light or energy, right?”

He reached into the rifle, popped the magazine out, and pulled a small, brass-colored bullet from the top. “This,” he said, holding it between two fingers, “is a bullet. This one’s a 5.56mm. When fired, it travels incredibly fast faster than sound. You won’t see it. You’ll just hear the gunfire… and then the damage.”

Luna blinked at it, staring. “That small little thing… killed me?”

Ghost nodded again. “Yep. It doesn’t take much when the velocity is that high. It tears right through bone, muscle, organs… everything.”

He reloaded the rifle, chambered the round, and aimed at an empty spot in the field.

He pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The gunshot echoed across the dream, and both women flinched hard, ears folding down from the sharp sound. Bits of dirt flew up from where the bullet hit the ground far away.

Ghost lowered the weapon and looked back at them. “The gun fires bullets so fast you can’t see them. It’s all about speed and force. The second it hits well…”

He summoned a fake version of Luna a dream construct that looked exactly like her.

Then, with one motion, he aimed the rifle, fired a single shot

BANG!

The fake Luna’s head exploded in a burst of red and smoke. The body dropped in a heap, lifeless.

Bonnie and Luna stared in silence. Wide-eyed. Frozen.

No words.

No reaction.

Just raw, shocked understanding.

Ghost slung the rifle back on his shoulder, looked at both of them, and said calmly

“…And that’s why I win fights.”

There was a heavy silence at first one that lingered like smoke in the air after the shot that had just blown the dream-double of Luna’s head clean off. The fake corpse still lay there, unmoving, a lifeless version of Equestria’s most powerful alicorn reduced to a body with no head and no dignity. The image was surreal.

Then Luna’s voice, low and almost stunned, broke through the stillness.

“…Okay,” she said slowly, eyes still locked on her dead doppelgänger. “When you and Bonnie were talking earlier about guns… and how dangerous they were… I wasn’t thinking that.”

Her tone wasn’t sarcastic. It wasn’t even shocked anymore it was simply the kind of wide-eyed realization that came only after seeing something you’d never truly believed until now. She blinked again, slowly, as if she were trying to process her own death.

Bonnie, standing beside her, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, no joke. My world has guns, but not like that. I mean flintlocks? Maybe an old cannon? Ghost’s weapons make my stuff look like toys.”

Ghost, still holding his M4 casually by the barrel, glanced at them both. His lips pulled into a small, cheeky smile and just to show off, and also because, deep down, he loved firing a weapon he suddenly flipped the selector to full auto and unloaded the rest of the magazine.

BRRRRRRRRRRRT!

The rifle roared, spitting out rounds in a blistering stream of thunder. Shell casings ejected in a steady, high-speed arc, raining down at his feet like a metallic waterfall. The muzzle flashed with each round, the dirt far ahead tearing apart as each bullet slammed into it.

The moment the magazine clicked empty, Ghost let out a soft breath, the gun now silent. Smoke drifted from the barrel as he turned back toward Luna and Bonnie.

They both stood there, wide-eyed.

Like statues.

The raw speed of the weapon, the violence of its sound, the way it tore into the world like it owned it it wasn’t just scary, it was a full-blown shock to the system.

The fake dead Luna vanished a moment later, fading back into the dream realm ether, but her impact lingered hard in both their minds.

Then Bonnie asked, her voice incredulous, “So… you’re telling me that besides how terrifyingly well-trained you are… your army has this kind of gear? And that’s just standard issue?”

Ghost nodded without a word.

Both Luna and Bonnie blinked hard, realization hitting them like a hammer.

This wasn’t theory anymore.

This wasn’t just “he’s a strong soldier” or “his world is violent.”

No.

They were standing face to face with a walking, breathing military nightmare. A highly trained human killing machine backed by an entire army equipped with weapons more destructive than anything either of them had ever imagined.

Talking about it was one thing.

Seeing it?

That was something else entirely.

Luna turned, staring at him, her mane flowing softly in the dream wind. “You know what?” she muttered, deadpan. “Fuck that. Ghost… Equestria surrenders. It’s yours now.”

Ghost let out a short snort and rolled his eyes. “Wow. Not even going to try to fight back? I wonder how your sister would feel about that.”

Luna waved a hoof dismissively. “Pfft. Fuck what she thinks. A normal squad of your soldiers could wipe out entire towns. Kill dozens hundreds before we even knew what was happening. No thanks. I’ve seen enough. Let Celestia deal with the politics. I’ll be hiding.”

Ghost chuckled softly. “You’ve both seen nothing yet. This M4?” He held it up briefly before letting it vanish from his hand in a shimmer of dreamlight. “This is just basic gear. Troop standard. Not even a full loadout.”

Bonnie and Luna watched with rapt attention.

Ghost began counting on his fingers.

“There’s flashbangs, smoke grenades, breaching charges. Then all the different types of guns: SMGs, shotguns, LMGs, DMRs, sniper rifles. Then there’s the attachments scopes, suppressors, lasers, under-barrel launchers.”

He glanced between them, their eyes growing wider and wider.

“And that’s just the infantry side. Then we’ve got our vehicles: Humvees, APCs, tanks. Then the air support: drones, helicopters, fighter jets…”

He kept going, his voice calm but casual.

Bonnie and Luna just stood there, stunned into silence.

They had no idea what most of those terms meant but they could feel the weight behind every word. Each one sounded like a new threat. A new tier of power.

A new nightmare.

Bonnie eventually lifted a hand and cut him off, waving frantically. “Okay, okay! We get it! Your army could probably take over entire worlds if they wanted to.”

Ghost just smiled a little. “Not far off.”

Bonnie blinked a few times, then tilted her head with a curious grin. “What’s an LMG?”

Ghost’s grin widened.

“Oh,” he said, voice low and almost playful, “that… is one of the funniest things to shoot.”

Without warning, he summoned something large into existence.

The weapon was massive.

Ghost held an old-school but iconic MG42 a belt-fed, fully automatic monster of a machine gun, infamous for its absurd fire rate. He wasn’t summoning a weapon from his army, but it didn’t matter this was one he’d always wanted to fire.

Bonnie and Luna’s jaws dropped.

The size, the presence, the weight of the thing was unlike anything they’d seen.

Ghost pulled a chunk of earth up into a makeshift mound and set the weapon down, mounting it with the bipod. He dropped behind it, shoulders steady, arms braced.

He lined up the sights, smiled.

And then

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!

The MG42 screamed.

A thunderous, chattering hailstorm of bullets erupted from the muzzle in an almost continuous stream of fire. The sound was insane like a chainsaw fused with a thunderclap. Shell casings exploded out of the side in a storm of brass. The weapon didn’t just fire it roared, like it was trying to out-shout the entire world.

Dirt and debris exploded in the distance where the bullets landed, forming a constant ripple of impact craters.

Ghost’s face lit up in pure joy. He never got to shoot one of these before.

When the belt finally ran dry, the weapon clicked to a stop. Smoke poured from the barrel, and the air was thick with the scent of gunpowder and heat.

Ghost stood up slowly, eyes sparkling.

He turned to look at Bonnie and Luna.

Both of them were frozen.

Eyes wide.

Mouths slightly open.

Shock and horror mingled on their faces like two people who had just seen a god of war lift his hand and erase a battlefield.

Bonnie was the first to speak.

Slowly.

“…Holy shit,” she breathed, eyes still wide. “I… I want to shoot that.”

Luna didn’t move.

She just stood there blinking, mane flowing gently, the only sign she wasn’t made of stone.

Then, quietly like it was a thought she didn’t mean to say out loud

“I am so happy Ghost is on our side…”

Ghost smirked as he looked at Bonnie, her wide, shining eyes still glued to the MG42 like a kid who just got told they could eat all the candy in the store.

He gave a small shrug, like it was nothing. “Well… why not?” he said casually. “Come on over I’ll let you shoot.”

Bonnie’s face lit up instantly pure joy and excitement flashing across every inch of her muzzle. Her tail flared up slightly behind her, golden eyes gleaming with anticipation. She looked like a child about to live out the dream of a lifetime. Practically bouncing, she hurried over to him.

Ghost, ever the calm professional, stepped back behind the MG42 and began reloading it as Bonnie eagerly waited. Both she and Luna watched the process with intense focus eyes wide as they saw him lift the top receiver cover, pull out a long belt of heavy brass ammo, lay it carefully across the feed tray, and then slam the lid shut with a clean snap. Ghost then grabbed the charging handle and pulled it back hard, locking a fresh round into place with a deep metallic clunk.

Bonnie's ears twitched at every sound the mechanical precision, the smooth readiness of the weapon it was almost hypnotic.

“Alright,” Ghost said, flicking the safety on and stepping aside. “All yours.”

Bonnie grinned and took his spot behind the massive gun, but the moment she knelt down and got in position, a flicker of hesitation crossed her face. The MG42 was nothing like the flintlock rifles she’d used in the Spiral. It looked… complicated. Big. Heavy. Intimidating.

Ghost saw the hesitation and stepped closer. “Here let me help you.”

He guided her through it gently, showing her how to shoulder the weapon and brace against it. He adjusted the angle slightly, helping her line up with the bipod. Then he walked her through the grip positions where to place her left hand to stabilize, and where her right hand needed to wrap around the trigger group. She looked back at him, and he gestured to the safety lever.

“This is your safety,” he said calmly. “Once you flick that off, she’s live. And one more thing.”

Bonnie blinked as Ghost stepped behind her and placed a steadying hand firmly between her shoulder blades.

“What’s this for?” she asked, brow raised.

Ghost gave a small grin. “These guns kick. Hard. When we train rookies on heavy weapons, trainers keep a hand on their back to make sure they don’t get thrown off-balance or fall backwards. Trust me. Better safe than watching you fly three feet and eat dirt.”

Bonnie blinked… then slowly nodded. “Okay… fair.”

Turning back to the MG42, she took a breath, gripped the handles, and flicked the safety off.

Then, cautiously, she squeezed the trigger.

The moment the weapon fired, Bonnie jerked hard in surprise. The roar of the gun and the force slamming into her shoulder caught her completely off guard. The muzzle climbed rapidly, and she nearly lost control but Ghost, steady as ever, kept her upright with one firm hand, gently keeping her centered.

“Wow!” Bonnie gasped, blinking and blinking again as the last few rounds fired off. “Okay! That’s got some kick to it!”

Ghost chuckled. “Told you. That’s why I kept a hand on your back.”

Bonnie huffed and adjusted her grip, narrowing her eyes as she reset her stance. “Alright. I get it now. I’ll do better this time.”

She went back to the trigger and began firing in short bursts just three or four rounds at a time, then pause, breathe, reset. The longer she practiced, the more confident she became, her bursts stretching into longer sprays. Her aim grew more controlled. Her body adjusted to the rhythm. The anticipation of the kick made her ready for it.

Ghost reloaded the weapon for her again when the first belt ran out, quick and smooth as ever. As soon as it was loaded, Bonnie let loose, tail wagging wildly behind her as she worked the gun with growing confidence.

Then came the moment of truth.

She smiled wickedly, looked back at Ghost and then held down the trigger for a full auto burst.

The MG42 screamed.

A stream of fire and fury erupted from the muzzle, and the brass casings exploded in a glorious shower to her right. The force was ridiculous but Ghost, steady behind her, kept her in control. She roared with laughter, tail whipping left and right so fast it became a blur.

The belt emptied. The gun clicked dry.

Bonnie let go, panting slightly but her face?

Pure joy.

She giggled uncontrollably, practically bouncing in place, her tail now full-on wagging like a fox pup getting belly rubs. “That was so much fun!!” she gasped, breathless. “Luna, you have to try it!”

Luna blinked, ears perked. She’d been standing still this whole time, eyes wide, watching everything studying the gun’s kick, its rhythm, Bonnie’s handling. After a moment, she gave a small shrug.

“Well… no point not to try,” she said calmly, trotting over.

Ghost nodded and began helping Luna set up.

Like before, he showed her the basics stance, hoof placement, shoulder support, trigger access. Her hoof couldn’t really fit the standard trigger housing, so Ghost adjusted the dream logic and made the trigger larger wide enough for her to pull with a light press of her hoof.

“You ready?” Ghost asked.

Luna nodded once, serious but curious.

She flicked the safety, braced herself and fired.

The first shot caught her by surprise the kick made her wings flare out instinctively and her front legs jerk slightly. But she gritted her teeth and kept steady.

She began firing in short, cautious bursts. Then longer. Her horn glowed faintly, likely helping to stabilize herself. She was getting the hang of it.

Eventually the belt ran out.

Luna exhaled through her nose and smiled, a little amused and very impressed. “Alright… I’ll admit it. Guns are terrifying. But I will also say… they’re very fun to shoot.”

She tilted her head slightly. “Though aiming is hard. I tried to keep the barrel steady, but it kept pulling up with each burst.”

Ghost nodded. “That’s called muzzle rise. You get used to it with training and it’s worse with high fire-rate guns like this one.”

Luna gave a small chuckle. “Well… it shows how well-trained you are. I always assumed ‘point and shoot’ was all there was to it. But now I understand this takes skill.”

Bonnie, still panting slightly from her earlier burst, flopped onto her back in the grass and grinned up at the sky. “Okay… Ghost’s world is terrifying. But gods, it’s awesome.”

Luna just sat beside her, glancing over the now-smoking MG42.

Ghost turned his head and glanced at Bonnie, an amused smirk playing on his lips as he casually observed her still riding the high from her first go with the MG42. Her energy was unmistakable eyes bright, cheeks lifted, breath just a touch faster than normal and, most notably, her tail had not stopped moving for even a second.

“You sure seem happy,” he said, voice low and teasing. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen your tail move that much.”

Bonnie blinked at him, confused for a heartbeat then turned her head and looked behind herself.

Sure enough, there it was.

Her big, fluffy, red-and-white-striped tail was wagging wildly swinging side to side so fast it was practically a blur. It looked less like a pirate’s tail and more like a fox pup who’d just been given a lifetime supply of cinnamon buns.

A bright red blush hit her cheeks instantly. “Oh shit,” she muttered under her breath as she sat up quickly. She reached back, fumbling with her hands to grab the thing, trying to wrestle it down and stop it from moving. “Come on! Stop that ”

But in the process of trying to hold it, she misjudged the angle.

Her tail curled right back around and smacked her square in the face.

WHUMP.

Her head jerked slightly from the impact, and her ears flicked straight back.

Ghost snorted hard, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as his shoulders shook with laughter. “Pfft !”

Luna let out a more graceful giggle beside him, lifting a wing over her mouth, though her eyes were full of mirth. “Oh dear… smooth, Bonnie.”

Bonnie’s face was now completely red. She held her tail tight against her chest in a hug, ears burning, looking absolutely defeated.

After a long, mortified sigh, she finally slumped forward and let the tail go. It dropped free and immediately resumed wagging like it had a mind of its own, thumping happily against the grass behind her.

“Ugh... look,” Bonnie groaned, throwing her hands up. “I’m just really excited, okay?”

Ghost said nothing.

Luna said nothing.

But the smiles on both their faces said everything.

Bonnie narrowed her eyes at both of them. “Don’t say it.”

Ghost raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Didn’t say a word.”

Luna smiled wider. “I said nothing, Bonnie.”

“Exactly,” Ghost added. “You’re the one who said it all.”

Bonnie grumbled and turned away, though her tail betrayed her every time it wagged even faster.

The MG42 faded out of existence with a flicker of dream magic, vanishing from its perch in the grass.

Ghost took a slow, steady breath, standing tall again as he looked out over the field that now lay calm, untouched no signs of war, no spent casings, no smoke. Just a bright blue sky and the quiet warmth of the dream realm’s light.

“Alright,” he said finally. “That’s enough fun with weapons for now.”

Both women turned toward him, their excitement still lingering.

Ghost sighed softly, running a hand through his short hair. “You two wanted to see my world the real world. What it was like, what I went through. Well… I guess we should get to that.”

Bonnie and Luna both nodded immediately.

They didn’t hesitate.

Luna’s eyes lit with curiosity, her wings giving a subtle flutter. “Yes. Let’s see it.”

Bonnie leaned forward slightly, tail still wagging. “Bring it on.”

Ghost exhaled again and turned his gaze forward. A flicker of tension crossed his face something more serious now settling into his expression. Not dread, but the weight of memory. Of what was coming.

He knew what they thought they were ready for.

He just wasn’t sure they actually were.

He muttered under his breath, “Let’s see how you two handle it…”

And with that, the sky above them began to shift.

The dream world shifted again, bending under Ghost’s will, and without any sensation of movement, the three of them Ghost, Luna, and Bonnie now found themselves standing high in the open sky. Beneath their feet, there was no solid ground, no clouds to obscure their view, only the vast openness of air and the sense that they were suspended above a great chasm of time and memory. This was no abstract dreamscape now; this was history, real and rooted in Ghost’s world a place shaped by fire, thunder, and death.

Beneath them, the land sprawled outward like a torn canvas. What should have been a simple stretch of grass and forest had been utterly ravaged. The terrain below was pockmarked with deep holes hundreds of them massive, gaping craters dug into the dirt by violent force. Ghost stood still, his expression unchanged as he looked down on the battlefield. To him, this was familiar. These sights this desolation were carved into the back of his mind from experience, not imagination. But to Luna and Bonnie, this view was foreign, frightening, and deeply unnatural.

Bonnie slowly turned her head, scanning the ground below with wide eyes, her ears raised, her expression uncertain. Her voice, when it came, was soft and colored with disbelief. “Oh wow… what happened here?”

Luna stepped forward beside her, her regal stature faltering slightly as she took in the utter devastation. She frowned as her eyes moved across the countless holes dotting the landscape. “Yes… I have never seen land like this. So many holes… so uniform in size and spacing. There must be hundreds of them. What could have possibly done this?”

Ghost didn’t move his eyes from the field. His voice was calm, steady, without emotion, like someone who had spoken these words too many times before. “All those holes you see… those are the impact craters from artillery fire.”

Luna blinked and looked at him. “Artillery fire?” she asked slowly, clearly unfamiliar with the term. “I am… not entirely sure what that is.”

Bonnie looked just as confused, her golden eyes narrowing as she tried to piece it together. “Yeah, I’ve heard of cannons, but this looks like way more than that.”

“You’ll see,” Ghost replied simply, and then he extended an arm to point toward the far side of the battlefield. His finger aimed toward a long, ragged treeline near the edge of the destruction. “See over there? It’s hard to make out at first, but that’s where I was me and the other soldiers, down in the trenches.”

Both Luna and Bonnie leaned forward, squinting into the distance, trying to see what Ghost was referring to. At first, the treeline looked just like a stretch of trees nothing out of place, nothing moving, just silent foliage wrapped in fog and distance.

But then… they saw it.

Movement.

Tiny shapes, humanoid, subtly shifting through camouflaged trenches dug into the ground. Soldiers. Human soldiers, wearing gear that looked similar to Ghost’s but patterned in shades of green and brown that blended almost perfectly with the trees and foliage. They moved with discipline and purpose, stepping through narrow trench paths, adjusting equipment, and bracing for something unseen.

Luna’s eyes widened slightly as she continued to scan the line. “I… didn’t notice them at first. They were completely hidden,” she murmured. “I couldn’t even tell there were soldiers down there.”

Ghost gave a small nod. “Exactly. Camouflage netting, natural foliage, coordinated patterns. We’re trained not just to fight, but to disappear.”

“I’m already impressed with how well you’re trained,” Luna added, her voice thoughtful, “but seeing this how an entire group can vanish into the terrain like that it’s a level of coordination I’ve never seen in any army.”

Bonnie crossed her arms slowly, her tone laced with a growing sense of respect and unease. “So you were right down there… during this?”

“Yeah,” Ghost said, still watching the treeline. “I was there. We were waiting for it to start.”

As if the dream had heard his words, a sudden sound echoed through the sky a rising whistle, distant at first, but quickly growing louder. Bonnie's ears perked. Luna's wings twitched.

The whistling intensified.

And then

BOOM.

The first artillery shell hit just behind the treeline. The ground erupted in an explosion of fire, smoke, and shattered earth. A column of dirt and debris burst skyward, and even from their aerial vantage point, the sound cracked like thunder in their bones.

Both Luna and Bonnie flinched hard, their bodies instinctively reacting to the force of the blast. Luna’s ears dropped flat against her skull, her stance stiff and alert. Bonnie’s tail jerked, and her head whipped toward Ghost, wide-eyed.

Then came the second shell. Then a third. And a fourth.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Explosions erupted all along the treeline, and the sky became a symphony of falling shells and deadly percussion. Each one hit with earth-shattering force, carving out new craters and hurling debris like shrapnel from a titan’s war. The artillery barrage had begun.

Luna’s eyes were locked on the scene now, her mouth slightly open. She didn’t speak. She didn’t move. She just stared as fire and steel ripped into the forest line where the hidden soldiers scrambled for cover.

Bonnie clutched her arms tightly across her chest, her breathing slightly faster. Her ears, like Luna’s, had folded down flat, the sound of the explosions clearly overwhelming. From up above, they could see everything the shells falling, the detonations spreading, the trenches crumbling.

For five full minutes, the nightmare continued.

Five minutes of unrelenting noise, destruction, and pressure. The sky had become a weapon, raining death from nowhere.

And then just as suddenly it stopped.

The silence that followed was deafening in its own way. The treeline had been reshaped no longer green and intact, but broken, filled with smoking craters and charred trees. Mud covered what had once been leaves. The trenches were barely visible beneath the new scars carved by the bombardment.

Bonnie and Luna said nothing at first. The weight of what they’d witnessed clung to them like smoke.

Eventually, Luna broke the silence, her voice soft and hollow. “That was… terrifying. I’ve never seen anything like that. Not in any war I’ve read about, not even in stories.”

Bonnie nodded slowly, still staring down at the scene. “Same. I mean, I’ve seen cannons used in the Spiral, but that’s mostly ship combat. Long reloads. Wide aiming. Nothing like this. These explosions were so close to each other. Every single one landed near the same area… almost perfectly clustered. That kind of accuracy is just ” She shook her head, unable to find the words. “Where the hell did it all come from? I didn’t see anything. No smoke trails. No ships. No cannons. Nothing.”

Ghost turned toward them now, his face unreadable. “That’s artillery. And the guns that fired those shells?” He paused, then said it slowly, clearly. “They were positioned probably ten… maybe even twenty miles away.”

Both Luna and Bonnie snapped their heads to him.

Luna’s eyes widened in horror. “I I’m sorry. How far did you say?”

Ghost looked at her, then at Bonnie, and nodded again with grim certainty. “Ten to twenty miles. Sometimes more. Long-range indirect fire. You can’t see it coming. You just hear the first shell, and then you pray.”

Luna stood frozen.

Bonnie's mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.

They were finally beginning to understand.

Ghost’s eyes slowly drifted from the scorched battlefield below back to the stunned expressions on Luna and Bonnie’s faces. The shock from the artillery barrage was still fresh in their eyes, but something else lingered now curiosity. Beneath their awe, there was a desire to understand what they’d just witnessed. That told him they were ready for more. At least for now.

Then, with a small tilt of his head and a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, Ghost raised an eyebrow. “I gotta admit,” he said dryly, “I’m kind of surprised you both even know what a mile is.”

Luna immediately rolled her eyes, the gesture full of sarcasm. “Why would I not know what a mile is?” she asked, her voice half exasperated, half amused. “That’s something everyone learns at one point. It’s not exactly secret knowledge.”

Ghost chuckled lightly and nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t know it at your age. It’s more the term itself. ‘Mile’ it’s a unit from my world. A very Earth-specific measurement. I just keep noticing little things, little words or ideas that overlap between your world and mine. And considering how different our worlds are supposed to be, that’s kinda weird.”

Luna blinked once, then slowly nodded in realization. “You’re right,” she admitted. “There are quite a few things we seem to understand without being told. It’s subtle, but… yes. Now that you say it, it is strange.”

Ghost’s attention turned to Bonnie next, who was watching the two of them curiously. “And you,” he said, pointing at her with a small grin. “You’re a pirate. You grew up sailing ships, robbing merchants, evading the law, trading powder and coin. The fact you know what a mile is… that surprises me.”

Bonnie gave him a flat look, then slowly folded her arms, one ear twitching. “You know, Ghost, you sure assume a lot about me. Every time I mention something smart, you act like it’s some huge shock. Just because I’m a pirate, you keep expecting me to be stupid.” Her tail flicked with irritation, but her expression remained confident. “And normally? You’d be right. Most pirates I’ve met were dumb as barrels. But me? I’ve earned the right to be seen differently.”

Ghost gave her a slow nod, his smirk softening into something more respectful. “Yeah… I guess you’re right. I’ll try not to assume what you know until you tell me otherwise.”

Bonnie gave a proud nod, clearly pleased, but then her expression shifted back to serious as she glanced at the destroyed battlefield. “Alright then. Now, Ghost… how the fuck do those artillery guns hit targets from that far away? They’re not even on the field. There’s no way they can see who they’re shooting at. How can they be so accurate?”

Ghost nodded at the fair question, then held out his hand, summoning one of Earth’s most common modern field artillery pieces into the sky beside them: a massive U.S. M777A2 howitzer. The weapon floated in the air with them, its sheer size and angular, mechanical shape imposing despite its lack of motion.

Bonnie and Luna both blinked hard, eyes wide at the gun’s sudden appearance. It was massive. Thick barrel. Sleek frame. Clearly built for destruction.

“This,” Ghost said, resting a hand on the breech, “is an artillery piece. Specifically, the M777. Used by the U.S. military. Long-range firepower, high elevation range, fires shells like the ones you just saw.”

Bonnie and Luna nodded slowly, still staring.

“It’s big,” Bonnie muttered.

“Not crazy big,” Luna added, “but the fact it can shoot that far? Still… unnerving.”

Ghost waved his hand, and the gun vanished.

“Now, how do we aim something like that?” he continued. “We use spotters. Could be soldiers in the field with binoculars, laser rangefinders, radios. Could be drones with camera feeds. They identify the target’s coordinates, transmit them to the artillery team, who adjust for distance, elevation, wind, earth rotation you name it. Then they fire blind.”

Bonnie’s brow furrowed slightly. “Wait… so no one at the gun even sees the target?”

“Exactly,” Ghost said with a nod. “It’s all math. And it works.”

Then, with another motion, Ghost summoned a new object into the air a single 155mm artillery shell, nearly as tall as Bonnie, and gleaming with cold, heavy steel. It hovered silently next to them.

Bonnie took a step back, ears perked. “Okay… that’s big.”

Luna studied it with narrowed eyes, her voice quiet. “So that’s what was falling from the sky… no wonder it did so much damage.”

Ghost let the shell vanish again. “Yep. That’s what you saw. And now… time for the next part.”

He pointed forward, and the field below began to move.

Luna and Bonnie leaned in.

From the far side of the open ground, just beyond a second treeline, tanks, APCs, and waves of infantry began to pour out of the forest, thundering across the broken, scarred field. The armored vehicles rolled in tight formation, their tracks tearing across the ground, each one accompanied by squads of soldiers sprinting at full speed, weapons drawn. Their uniforms were different from Ghost’s men enemy forces. Hostile. He remembered this engagement clearly: seven tanks, ten armored personnel carriers, and over one hundred and fifty soldiers had charged this field in an effort to break his team’s position.

Bonnie squinted at the moving steel beasts. “What the heck are those big rolling machines?”

Luna, too, looked confused. “I’ve never seen anything like them… they don’t look like ships.”

Ghost pointed. “Those are tanks. Heavily armored combat vehicles with tracks instead of wheels, designed to break through enemy lines. They’ve got thick armor, powerful cannons, and support guns. They can crush just about anything in their path.”

Then he pointed to the lighter vehicles. “Those are APCs Armored Personnel Carriers. They carry soldiers into battle, protect them from small arms fire, and offer light firepower support. Not as tough as tanks, but faster and more mobile.”

Both women nodded slowly, visibly working to absorb this new information.

And then the sound returned.

A familiar whistling, this time targeting the advancing enemy.

BOOM.

Shells began to rain down again this time landing directly around the tanks and APCs. Bonnie and Luna winced as several shells exploded right beside squads of infantry. Some soldiers were blasted through the air like ragdolls, arms and legs flying loose. Others dropped in place, shredded by invisible shrapnel. One man hit square by a near-impact was reduced to a lifeless heap, a crater replacing the spot where he’d stood.

Both Luna and Bonnie were silent no laughter now. No curiosity. Just horror.

And then, a massive shell slammed directly into one of the tanks.

The vehicle erupted in a fireball, its ammo cooking off in a second violent explosion that engulfed the area in smoke and heat. Ghost could see Luna’s mouth part slightly, and Bonnie’s fur bristle down her arms and neck.

That was when the gunfire started.

From below, the tanks and APCs that survived began to open fire on the treeline. Machine guns roared. Cannons fired high explosive rounds. Infantry returned fire. Ghost’s army, concealed behind sandbags and cover, launched their counterattack with rifles and mounted .50 caliber machine guns. The sound of war became deafening again.

Luna and Bonnie could barely keep track of it all the flash of muzzle fire, the dull roar of cannon blasts, the flicker of tracer rounds slicing through the air.

They watched a soldier fall, his leg blown off at the knee. Another screamed, engulfed in flame as he stumbled from a burning APC. His cries echoed for several seconds before he collapsed in the mud.

Bonnie clutched her own arm, looking pale. Luna’s wings had folded tightly against her body again, her pupils slightly constricted.

The fight dragged on for ten minutes, but it felt like a lifetime.

Tanks were taken out one by one. APCs burned. The enemy was pushed back, soldiers scrambling to flee but Ghost’s side did not let up. Gunfire continued to pour into the retreating ranks. Artillery once again fell from the sky, following them even as they tried to escape. There was no mercy.

By the end, the enemy had been wiped out. No tanks remained intact. All APCs were destroyed. The field was littered with burning vehicles, bodies torn apart by shrapnel, blood mixing with the mud.

And the smell Ghost knew it even if he spared the women from experiencing it in the dream. The smell of cooked flesh, gunpowder, and smoke.

Luna and Bonnie stood frozen.

They stared at the battlefield at the absolute annihilation and neither spoke.

Nothing prepared them for this.

And Ghost had only just begun to show them what war really meant.

Bonnie and Luna stood in silent horror, their gazes fixed downward, unable to tear their eyes from the hellscape stretching out beneath them. The field below no longer looked like a place where life could ever grow again. The land was blackened with soot and churned into chaos, and all across it, the metal corpses of tanks and APCs burned with raging intensity. Towers of oily black smoke spiraled into the sky, thick and slow, painting the air with darkness as the dream-world sun faded behind it. The heavy stench of fire and oil mixed with the phantom scent of charred flesh, a memory pulled directly from Ghost’s experience and burned into the dream as if the battle had just happened yesterday.

Not far from the shattered machines lay the remnants of men bodies broken, scattered, mangled. Some were still aflame. Others lay motionless in the mud, limbs twisted unnaturally or missing entirely, their forms limp as dolls tossed aside. The battlefield was quiet now, but it wasn’t peaceful. It was the silence after violence the kind that haunted.

For several moments, neither Bonnie nor Luna said a word.

Then, finally, Luna exhaled, her voice soft but laced with raw, stunned awe. “Well… fuck.”

Her wings shifted slightly against her sides, and her eyes never left the scene below. “So that… that’s what a battle looks like in your world, Ghost?” Her tone held no sarcasm now only weight. “I don’t even know what to say other than I’m so damn glad I’m not part of this… and I’m even more glad this kind of fighting doesn’t exist in Equestria.”

Ghost said nothing for a second. He just nodded quietly, letting the silence settle again.

Bonnie slowly pulled her gaze away from the field of death, her golden eyes wide but clear, her voice low. “You know,” she said, pausing to swallow the lump in her throat, “I’m starting to really, really understand why you’re so well trained, Ghost. Why you’re the way you are. If fights like that are something you have to survive… you don’t get to not be trained.”

Ghost let out a slow breath and looked at them both. “And that,” he said, his voice even and without bravado, “was just a normal attack. A small one, honestly. A probing assault. We’d get twenty to fifty of those every day sometimes more.”

Luna and Bonnie both visibly shuddered at the thought.

The idea that the horrific battle they’d just watched one that had left an entire armored assault force annihilated was routine in Ghost’s world was almost too much to grasp.

Ghost gave a tired shrug, as if all of this was just another day for him. “And that was daytime. Now imagine trying to do all of that in the dark. No sunlight. No visibility. Just muzzle flashes and silhouettes in the night.”

Bonnie shook her head immediately, tail twitching. “Nope. I’m good, thanks. I don’t even want to imagine what that’s like.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow. “And that fight? That was without air support.”

Luna perked up at that, her curiosity breaking through the horror. “Wait air support? How bad is it?”

Ghost’s expression was unreadable. “Depends which side it’s on. If it’s your side, it’s the best thing in the world. If it’s on theirs… it’s hell.”

Before either woman could respond, the dream world shifted again.

In an instant, the smoky sky and scorched fields vanished. Now, they stood on a barren plateau beneath a blazing desert sun. Sand stretched in all directions yellow and red dunes, dry rocks, shimmering heat lines, and the occasional cluster of ancient stones. The air was thick with the illusion of heat, even though it was all a dream.

Ghost now stood beside them dressed in desert camouflage a combat uniform patterned for sand, with tan armor and gear. A rifle rested slung across his back, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to reveal dust-stained arms.

He pointed down the slope to a rocky outcrop just below them.

“That’s me,” he said, nodding toward the figure lying prone on the edge of the rocks. Another version of himself Ghost from the past lay belly-down, scanning the horizon through a pair of binoculars. His face was calm, professional, focused.

“This was a solo op,” Ghost explained. “Special operations recon. One of the kinds of missions I did a lot. My job was to get in, find enemy commanders, and either report coordinates for airstrike or, if things went sideways… do it myself.”

Luna and Bonnie both looked around, scanning the desert expanse with narrowed eyes. “So you were alone?” Luna asked, glancing at the Ghost beside her.

Ghost nodded. “Yep. Me, a long gun, and radio contact with command. That’s all.”

Bonnie blinked. “Damn…”

Ghost summoned a set of extra binoculars, handing one to Bonnie and one to Luna. Luna took hers with her magic, while Bonnie grabbed hers with practiced ease. He pointed toward a distant structure nestled into the sand about two miles out.

“See that building?” he said. “That’s what I was watching.”

They both lifted their binoculars, scanning in the direction he pointed.

Soon enough, they saw it an old, flat-roofed compound of stone and metal, half-dug into a dune. Guards patrolled the roof. Vehicles sat idling outside. There were a lot of humans there.

Ghost’s past self spoke up, his voice calm and composed, coming through as if they were listening to a recording.

“Overlord, this is Recon Seven. How copy?”

Bonnie and Luna both glanced down toward the prone Ghost below.

“Recon Seven, this is Overlord. Read you loud and clear.”

“Be advised,” the ground Ghost continued. “I have confirmed visual on hostile commanders. Repeat, confirmed visual on hostile leadership. Requesting air strike. Grid coordinates being uploaded now. Over.”

There was a pause, static lingering in the air.

Then “Copy that, Recon Seven. Air strike inbound. Stand by.”

The radio went silent again.

Ten long seconds passed.

Nothing happened.

Luna looked up at Ghost, confused. “Is it coming?”

Ghost raised his arm again and pointed silently toward the building.

Then it happened.

A shrill scream tore through the sky as a missile descended from above like the fist of a god. It slammed into the building with a sound like the sky cracking open.

BOOOOOOOM.

The entire compound vanished in a blinding explosion. The blast wave rippled outward with shocking speed. Sand and debris were launched hundreds of feet into the air, a rolling plume of black smoke and dust engulfing everything. Even though they were far off, Luna and Bonnie felt the shockwave rush over them ghostly and dream-simulated, but still real enough to make them stumble.

It was like a small nuke had hit the desert.

The sky filled with churning clouds of dust, glowing orange at the core where the fireball had blossomed. A moment passed, then two… silence settling over the desert once again.

Then the Ghost on the rocks raised his radio and calmly spoke.

“Overlord, confirmed hit. Target neutralized. All hostiles KIA.”

“Copy that, Recon Seven. Good work. Return to base. Overlord out.”

Bonnie slowly lowered her binoculars, her mouth slightly open, unable to speak at first. Luna was even more frozen, staring at the massive plume still rising from where the building had once stood.

Neither of them said anything for a long while.

The dreamscape wavered and shifted once again, pulling the three of them from the desert plateau back into the familiar open grass field. The contrast was jarring soft green blades swaying gently in an imagined breeze, the sky bright and deceptively peaceful yet the tension from what they had just witnessed hung heavy in the air. Ghost stood facing them, arms crossed loosely against his chest, his expression calm but his eyes glinting with something darker. He smirked faintly when he saw the looks plastered across Bonnie’s and Luna’s faces, both wide-eyed and rattled, their expressions caught between disbelief and dread.

Luna was the first to speak, though her voice was unsteady, almost as if she had to push the words past a dry throat. “Okay… I don’t even know what just happened. I couldn’t understand the mechanics of it at all, but seeing an explosion that massive told me everything I need to know about this so-called air support.” Her gaze sharpened on him, wings twitching faintly at her sides. “Where did it even come from? And what exactly was it?”

Ghost gave a casual shrug, as though the scale of what she’d just seen didn’t shake him in the slightest. “That was a ballistic missile. It was launched from a base hell if I know where, honestly. Could’ve been dozens, even hundreds of miles away. I never really asked. My job wasn’t to know where it came from. My job was just to call it in when it was needed. But yeah…” he trailed off, his tone matter-of-fact. “Let’s just say it came from far away.”

Bonnie let out a low whistle and shook her head, her golden eyes narrowing. “That’s scary. And you’re telling me what we just saw the attack with the tanks, the artillery, all that was small? That kind of nightmare happens all the time?” She gave a disbelieving laugh and raked her fingers back through the fur on her head. “I almost don’t want to know what a real fight looks like… but at the same time, I kind of do.”

Luna nodded solemnly, her expression still hard but her eyes betraying her fascination. “Indeed. I… I feel the same. Your army and its weapons are terrifying, Ghost, but at the same time, there’s something about seeing it that’s…” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “…strangely compelling. I want to see more. I want to see the limits of this power you’ve hinted at. Show me the greatest air support your world can bring.”

Ghost gave a low hum, rubbing his jaw with one gloved hand. “The best?” His eyes narrowed slightly, his smirk fading into something more serious. “The best would be a nuclear strike. A nuke. And yeah… that’s scary. Even for me.”

Luna’s ears pricked forward, her interest immediately piqued by the weight in his voice. “A nuke? And you admit it scares you?” She leaned in slightly, her cyan eyes burning with curiosity. “Then now I definitely want to see it.”

Bonnie crossed her arms and gave a slow nod of agreement. “Same. If something like that rattles you, Ghost, then I’ve gotta see what it is.”

Ghost let out another shrug, though his shoulders were heavier this time. “I mean… sure, I can show you. But understand something: nukes aren’t thrown around like other weapons. They’re rare. They’re last-resort weapons. Even my army doesn’t want to fire them off unless there’s no other choice. You don’t just drop a nuke casually.”

Bonnie tilted her head, one ear flicking as she squinted at him. “Really? Is it that bad?”

Ghost’s expression darkened. “Yeah. A nuke can wipe out an entire city. Just four of them four could wipe out an entire country.”

Both women froze, their mouths parting slightly as they snapped their heads toward him in unison. Their eyes were wide, not with curiosity this time, but with pure disbelief.

“I… I’m sorry,” Luna stammered, her regal composure fracturing for once. “Back up. Did you just say four of these things could wipe out a whole country?”

Ghost gave a small nod, his face unreadable. “That’s exactly what I said. But hey…” He exhaled slowly, his voice dropping lower. “Instead of talking about it, how about I show you?”

Before either of them could argue, the still air was pierced by a long, rising wail. Sirens deep, mechanical, and unbearably loud rolled across the grass field. The sound grew, echoing from all around them, as though the entire dream-sky was screaming at once.

Luna’s ears snapped flat against her skull and her eyes went wide as she whipped her head around. Bonnie did the same, her tail bristling as her ears pinned back in instinctive alarm. “What the hell is that?!” Bonnie barked, her voice high with tension. “Where’s it coming from?!”

But the sound didn’t stop. It only grew louder, more oppressive.

Then Ghost’s pocket buzzed with a shrill electronic alarm, cutting through the already deafening sirens. He calmly pulled out a smartphone, its screen glowing red. Both women stared at it, confused, as a mechanical voice blared from the small device, repeating the same terrible message.

“Emergency Alert. Nuclear strike incoming. All personnel and civilians report to your fallout shelters immediately. I repeat nuclear strike incoming. This is not a drill.”

The voice repeated over and over, robotic and soulless, as the phone continued to vibrate in his hand.

Bonnie’s fur bristled. She looked to Luna with wide eyes, her muzzle tight with unease. “Okay, this is getting creepy. First the sirens, now that ”

Luna nodded quickly, her wings flexing nervously. “Yes. It’s unsettling. Ghost, are you… exaggerating this for effect?”

But Ghost shook his head with grim finality. “No. Everything you’re hearing right now the sirens, the alert, even the message is exactly what would play if a nuke was inbound. I’m not making this up. This is what people hear when the end of their world is minutes away.”

That made both women look at each other, their eyes filled with a new kind of fear.

The sirens screamed louder, filling the sky until it was unbearable then, without warning, a blinding white flash erupted on the horizon. It was so bright it obliterated everything for an instant, burning their retinas until they were forced to shield their eyes.

When the light finally dimmed enough for them to see, they both froze.

In the distance, a colossal explosion had blossomed, dwarfing everything they had ever imagined. A tower of fire roared upward into the heavens, and from it rose the unmistakable mushroom-shaped cloud massive, towering, terrifyingly unnatural. It climbed higher and higher, expanding until it dominated the entire skyline.

A moment later, the shockwave hit.

The sound was deafening an earth-shattering boom that rattled their bones and rang their ears until they felt like their heads would split. The shockwave itself slammed into them like a hurricane. Both Luna and Bonnie were thrown to the ground instantly, their bodies pressed flat as the violent wind howled around them. The air tore at their manes and fur, so powerful it nearly dragged them across the grass like leaves in a storm.

They clung to the ground, squinting against the gale, ears ringing painfully. The sky itself seemed to shudder as dirt and debris were sucked upward into the monstrous column of destruction. The horizon was gone, swallowed by rolling walls of dust and earth that climbed higher and higher until they blotted out the sun.

Then the heat came.

The air grew hotter by the second, burning against their fur and skin. Soon, it was unbearable like being pressed against the surface of the sun. Luna and Bonnie looked down in horror to see their own bodies shimmering, their fur singeing away. The heat climbed higher until patches of skin began to blister and blacken, peeling back to reveal raw flesh beneath. Blood boiled beneath the surface, and their limbs looked as though they were cooking alive.

Ghost had muted the pain he hadn’t let it reach them but the sight was horrifying enough to freeze them to their cores. They could see their own flesh burning, their bones gleaming faintly beneath seared muscle. Bonnie’s clothing smoked and curled, burning away piece by piece until she was half-charred and ragged. Luna’s wings crisped at the edges, feathers curling as if dipped in fire.

The mushroom cloud expanded above, the ground itself cracking and heaving from the sheer force. Then came the final surge an earth-rending tremor that tore open the soil before them, lifting the ground as though the world itself was being peeled apart. A violent burst of energy flung both women high into the air

and then, just as suddenly, it was gone.

Everything snapped back to silence.

They were standing once more on the grassy field, the sun warm, the breeze calm, as though nothing had happened. Not a blade of grass was disturbed.

Ghost stood before them, his arms folded again, his face still calm. He looked at them both, his expression unreadable, and said in the same flat tone:

“That’s a nuke.”

Both Bonnie and Luna whipped their heads toward him, their eyes wide, their breathing ragged. For the first time, Ghost noticed what he had expected but not yet seen their bodies were trembling. Both women were shaking uncontrollably, the fear written across their faces clearer than any words they could say.

They had seen many things since meeting him. They had fought, bled, and endured horrors together. But this… this was on a level neither of them had ever imagined possible.

And it left them shaken to their very core.

Ghost waited in silence, his body tense even though he forced his posture to look calm, his eyes flicking back and forth between Luna and Bonnie as they sat trembling. He could see it in every twitch of their ears, in every little tremor of their bodies they were still shaking, their breathing uneven and ragged, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to blame them for it. Hell, if it had been a real nuke, he would have been shaking too, maybe worse than them, because no one, no matter how hard they were trained or how many battles they had seen, could stare down a nuclear blast and just be fine. That kind of weapon was the embodiment of the end of the world, and seeing one go off didn’t just burn into your eyes it branded itself into your very soul. It was one of those horrors that no training could prepare you for, no matter how hardened you were.

As he watched, he noticed something else Luna and Bonnie themselves realizing just how violently they were trembling. He saw it in the way Luna’s wings shifted uncomfortably and how Bonnie clutched at her arms, both of them trying to hold still, trying to stop the shuddering, but failing miserably. They were both warriors in their own right, women who had fought and endured much already, yet the memory of that detonation had left them unraveling in ways they didn’t even seem able to control.

Luna finally lifted her head toward him, her cyan eyes wide, still holding that faint glassiness of shock. She parted her lips, stuttered, faltered, then finally forced the words out with a breath that wavered. “I… I th-think… we call it there, Ghost.”

Beside her, Bonnie’s reaction was far quicker but even more telling. She nodded so hard and so fast it almost looked like a blur, her golden eyes wide as saucers, her ears pinned back flat against her skull. When she opened her mouth, her words came out in a high-pitched squeak, like the squeak of a dog toy being crushed. “Um… y-yeah, ya can, can I go? I think for now I’ve seen what I need.” Her voice was so nervous, so shaky, it almost didn’t sound like her at all.

Ghost just sat there, his face unreadable, but inside he felt the weight of their words. He could see it plain as day they were done. They had reached their breaking point for the night, and pushing them further would only wound something fragile he didn’t want to touch. So he gave them the only answer that mattered. He nodded once and said quietly, “Yeah. It may be best we call it tonight.”

And just like that, the dream unraveled.

Ghost blinked as his eyes opened, the strange heavy silence of the dream realm replaced by the cool, earthy stillness of the waking world. He stretched his limbs with a quiet groan, his pony body shifting back into its familiar, frustrating form, hooves planting into the soft dirt of the forest floor. He sat up and realized immediately that he was back in the forest, back in that same stretch of endless trees, and the fire from last night had long since died to embers.

Luna and Bonnie weren’t with him they’d been ripped out of the dream realm so fast that it almost startled him, a speed so sharp and sudden that he knew it was Luna’s doing. He turned his eyes upward, noticing how the canopy above swayed in the early morning light. The sun had barely risen.

With nothing else to do, and knowing there wasn’t much point in trying to force a conversation out of either of them just yet, Ghost decided to focus on the simplest comfort he could give them: food. He gathered wood, sparked a fire, and began cooking breakfast. The fire crackled steadily beside the nearby river, and Ghost lazily chose to build it right there, close enough that he wouldn’t have to haul water back and forth. Truth be told, he was feeling unusually lazy this morning, and the quiet lap of the river at least made it easier to settle his own thoughts.

About twenty minutes passed before he heard the faint shuffle of movement behind him. He lifted his head, ears twitching slightly, and saw them Bonnie and Luna slowly dragging themselves upright. They looked drained, their faces pale beneath fur, their eyes shadowed as if they hadn’t slept at all, even though they’d been asleep. They moved like women who had seen the world end. In a way, Ghost thought grimly, they had.

They came to the fire and sank down beside him without a word, their gazes falling into the flames as if hypnotized. The silence stretched on, broken only by the bubbling of the pan and the crackling of firewood.

It was Luna who broke it, her voice soft, heavy, and still lined with the raw edge of what she’d felt. “Ghost,” she said, not looking at him at first, her eyes locked on the fire. Then she turned her head just enough that he could see the sorrow and the weight in her eyes. “I just want you to know… that what you showed Bonnie and I last night it was the scariest thing I have ever seen in my life. And I do not wish to see it again. No more dream-hopping for a while. No more of your world. Please.”

Ghost only nodded, his face calm, his voice low. “Yeah. That’s fair.”

He looked then to Bonnie, who hadn’t spoken yet, her golden eyes still locked on the fire, her body sitting stiffly as though every muscle was wound tight. “You good?” he asked, his tone more careful this time.

Bonnie let out a long, tired sigh and shook her head just slightly. “I will be,” she muttered softly. “Just… let me sit here, okay?”

Ghost gave her a single nod. No push. No judgment. He understood.

The morning dragged on in silence. He cooked. They sat. Time seemed to slow, but eventually, as the hours passed, he noticed a small change in them Luna’s wings loosened just slightly, Bonnie’s tail twitched faintly instead of dragging lifelessly. They were recovering, bit by bit. By the time he guessed it was around four in the afternoon, they were more themselves again, more willing to move, more willing to talk. But Ghost could feel it in his gut they wanted to move forward, to leave what they had seen behind them.

Still, as they sat by the river, a new thought struck him. He looked to Luna, his voice curious but serious. “Wait. Luna you got your power back, right? That much is clear.”

She blinked at him, confused, but nodded. “Yes, though I do not see where you are going with this.”

Ghost’s eyes narrowed, his soldier’s instinct chewing on the puzzle. “And for some reason, there haven’t been any dream bubbles either, right?”

Luna nodded slowly, her expression tightening with unease. “That is also true.”

Ghost frowned deeper. “Then what about the moon or the sun? Can’t you move the moon? Can’t you use that to tell Celestia you’re back?”

At that, Luna froze. Her eyes widened, her wings twitching faintly. Her horn lit suddenly, blazing with raw power as she focused, straining with effort. The light burned for a long, tense moment before sputtering out. She let out a frustrated huff, her chest heaving faintly. “I can’t. For some reason… the moon, the sun they aren’t responding.”

Ghost’s frown hardened. His mind spun as he pieced together threads that had been bothering him for months. “Something doesn’t add up,” he said, his voice low but sharp. “You can’t move the moon. There are no dream bubbles. And as much as I tried to chalk it up to dumb luck, I can’t ignore it anymore. We’ve been in this forest for what two, maybe three months now? I stopped keeping track. And in all that time we’ve only been attacked twice. Once by normal wolves, and once by timberwolves. That’s it. And the Everfree is supposed to be dangerous as hell, right? But past that? Nothing. No wildlife. Barely any threats. Just… silence.”

Luna stared at him, her expression mirroring his concern. “You are right. It is not normal. If this were truly the Everfree, we would have faced far more than what we have. Even if it were a normal forest, there should be wildlife, other creatures. Yet we have seen nothing. And as for my magic…” Her ears folded back. “Yes. You are right. None of it makes sense.”

Bonnie, who had been quiet for a while, frowned and leaned forward, her tail curling at her side. “How big even is the Everfree? We’ve been following this damn river for, what, three months now? At some point we should’ve gotten out, right? But nothing. Just trees and water. The only wildlife we’ve seen are the fish we cook and eat. That’s it.”

Luna’s jaw tightened. Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her head back, horn lighting again but this time, instead of reaching out to the moon, she poured raw magic upward. A massive blast shot into the sky, a column of power so bright that Ghost and Bonnie shielded their eyes against it. It soared upward, higher and higher until it struck something. There was a loud, resonating crack like glass under strain, and the beam scattered against an invisible dome.

Luna’s eyes narrowed into slits, her breathing sharp and controlled. “I just hit a barrier.”

Ghost blinked once, then again, staring at her. Bonnie froze beside him.

Luna turned her gaze down, her voice cold with realization. “We have been trapped this entire time.”

Ghost stared for a long moment, his jaw clenching, then let out a low, bitter laugh and muttered with no humor at all, “Well… fuck.”