//------------------------------//
// The Initiation 
// Story: Fatelocked 
// by Pon13 
//------------------------------//

Everything unfolds in a whirlwind, sweeping you into a dimly lit room that exudes an air of mystery, illuminated solely by the flickering glow of candlelight. As you step further into the chamber, your eyes are drawn to a towering pedestal, upon which stands Bright Eyes, her gaze piercing through you with unsettling gem eyes. The room is shrouded in darkness, and you catch glimpses of others wearing featureless masks, their presence adding an enigmatic aura to the scene. It feels like a surreal moment straight out of "Eyes Wide Shut," where the line between reality and the fantastical blurs.

In a hushed tone, you mutter to yourself, barely audible amidst the ethereal ambiance, sensing an undercurrent of secrecy and anticipation. A part of you can't help but wonder if this gathering will devolve into a satanic orgy, given the peculiar atmosphere. However, before your mind can wander further down that path, Bright Eyes breaks the silence with her haunting voice, calling upon you to take an oath that will bind you to a purpose greater than yourself.

As you look around, the others humming in the darkness, you can't help but feel a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. The weight of the moment dawns upon you as Bright Eyes asks, "Anonymous, do you solemnly swear to protect the living from the clutches of the Dead, the Damned, and the Possessed?" The gravity of the question hangs in the air, urging you to reflect on the immense responsibility that lies ahead.

Your response, hesitant yet willing, escapes your lips, "Errr, Yes?" The uncertainty lingers as Bright Eyes continues, her voice carrying an otherworldly resonance, "Do you pledge your life to the forbidden, the unknown, and the undiscovered?" The words echo in your mind, their implications sinking in. With a mix of determination and trepidation, you answer, "Yes."

A sense of relief washes over you as Bright Eyes acknowledges your acceptance into the organization known as PHEER. However, your confusion persists, and you can't help but inquire about the meaning behind the name. Bright Eyes sighs, slightly exasperated, and explains, "PHEER stands for Paranormal Help, Equestrian Extraction, and Recon. It represents our dual nature—Paranormal Help being the public-facing side, while Equestrian Extraction and Recon are the covert operations financed by the Crown."

Still grappling with the revelations, you manage to express gratitude, tinged with uncertainty, "Right...Err, thanks, I think. So, are we done here?"

Bright Eyes shakes her head, her gaze shifting to Aether, who seems to hold a mysterious box. There's an air of reverence as Aether approaches, placing the box delicately on the altar before you. With a flick of a lock, the box reveals its enigmatic contents—a pony's skull. As you gaze into the empty eye sockets, a chill runs down your spine, a mixture of eerie fascination and discomfort.

Amidst the surreal experience, questions begin to surface. The act feels disconcerting, and you can't help but inquire, "Should I be...?" 
However, before you can finish your sentence, you suddenly jolt awake, finding yourself in a hospital bed, hooked up to an intravenous drip. The searing pain coursing through your body intensifies, rendering you incapacitated, and your attempts to call for help prove futile.

Aether's presence by your side only adds to the confusion and distress. Your eyes widen in panic as you witness him tampering with the drip, injecting an unknown substance. In his delirious state, he mutters remorseful words, his tear-streaked face revealing the depth of his despair. Helplessly, you try to scream or utter a word, but your voice fails you, and you can only watch in terror as the fluid infiltrates your veins.

A sense of darkness envelops you as the hospital ceiling fades to black, leaving you in a state of disoriented groaning. A throbbing headache pulsates at the center of your forehead, and as you gradually open your eyes, the sight of a dimly lit stone ceiling greets you. Groggy and disoriented, you sit up, taking in your surroundings. It becomes clear that you have returned to Aether's bunk, or rather, the bunk you remember from the previous day.

As memories flood back, you cradle your head, overwhelmed by the weight of the recent events. You can't help but wonder if these peculiar ponies will be the catalyst for your demise. Glancing over at Aether, who snores softly in his bed, you contemplate whether it's necessary to share your harrowing experience with someone in your unit. Surely, they should be made aware of the danger that looms ahead.

Silently slipping out of bed and searching for your shoes, you make your way out of the bunkroom, closing the heavy door behind you with utmost care. The stillness of the night is interrupted by the voice of Bright Eyes, who greets you from her desk, savoring a cup of coffee. "Anonymous, it's nice to meet someone else who's up early tonight," you hear the gem-eyed mare say as she sips her coffee at her desk.

Curious about the time, you ask, "What time is it?"

"It's six-thirty in the evening. It seemed our little ritual took everything out of you. Another few hours of sleep, and I would have called the medics for you," she replies with concern.

Turning the conversation to a more serious topic, you say, "About last night...I-"

Interrupting, Bright Eyes states matter-of-factly, "You saw your death," as she continues to flick through her paperwork.

Feeling a sense of unease, you ask, "Yeah, you see... is there any chance that talking about it will make me die in a more horrible way?"

She reassures you, "No, don't be silly. It's a vision, not a curse."

Acknowledging her point, you continue, "You see, in my vision, it was Aether who killed me."

Curious about the implications, Bright Eyes asks, "And will there be a problem working with him?"

Alarmed, you exclaim, "What!? He's going to kill me!"

In a blunt tone, Bright Eyes replies, "Then you do not understand your vision."

Frantically, you try to make her understand, "You don't understand. The way he was talking, he killed all of you."

Lifting her head from her papers, the mare with gem-like eyes says, "Then mine must be incorrect. According to my vision, I die by having my skull crushed by Princess Luna herself." She finishes her statement and grabs a cup.

Taken aback, you question her, "And you still work for her?"

"Horned Charge. Have you heard of him?" she asks calmly, taking the conversation into a new course before taking a sip of her coffee.

"Yes, Aether told me about him. What does he have to do with all this?" you inquire.

"His vision was him being trampled under a black horse as he was climbing a hill. The last part of his vision was him falling into a room filled with statues, only to be turned into one by, well, yours truly," she explains.

Realization dawns on you, "...He died at Black Hoof Hill..."

"And he was petrified by a magical anomaly," she finishes your sentence. "Not by me, though. I was over two hundred miles away, working on a case at the frontier."

Confused, you ask, "Why were you in his vision?"

Bright Eyes falls silent and seems to stare into her coffee for a few moments. Eventually, she responds, "I ordered him there, even though he told me about his vision."

Puzzled, you inquire, "...Why?"

"There's no way of escaping it," she replies, her voice tinged with resignation.

Feeling overwhelmed, you curse and rub your face, saying, "Shit! What have I gotten myself into?"

"Fate has chosen for you, Anonymous. Whether you leave us, run, or even try to end your life, the outcome will be similar," she explains.

In a last-ditch effort, you ask, "What if I had never looked into the eyes of that skull thing?"

"It would have been the same. You would have only had the illusion of choice," she replies, her tone filled with a sense of inevitability.

The implications of Bright Eyes' involvement in Aether's vision weigh heavily on your mind. She falls silent, seemingly lost in her thoughts, before finally admitting her role in sending Aether to his fate, despite being aware of his vision. Your shock intensifies, and you can't help but question her motives, seeking an explanation for her actions.

Your heart pounds in your chest, pure dread fills your voice, "I don't want-"

With an air of resignation, Bright Eyes responds, "There's no way of escaping it." The weight of your predicament dawns upon you, and you curse under your breath, realizing the magnitude of what you've gotten yourself into. 

Desperation fills your voice as you ask, "What have I gotten myself into?"

Meeting your distress with an unwavering resolve, Bright Eyes assures you, "Like I said, Fate has chosen for you, Anonymous. Whether you try to leave, run away, or even contemplate ending your own life at this very moment, the outcome will remain similar." As the weight of inevitability settles upon your shoulders, you can't help but wonder what would have happened if you had never stared into the eyes of the skull, only to realize that even without that choice, destiny would have unfolded its course regardless.

After the peculiar yet unsettling conversation with Bright Eyes, she gestures with a hoof towards a door and instructs you to have breakfast. Upon entering, you are greeted by the sight you had anticipated: a cold, dimly lit stone room adorned with flickering candles. Dominating the space is a substantial, weathered oak dining table that occupies most of the area.

The table serves as an impromptu showcase, with old, antique silverware haphazardly arranged as a centerpiece beneath a makeshift metal chandelier holding a few lit candles. Your new colleagues gather around the knee-high table in the "mess" hall, settling into their regular spots.

It gradually dawns on you that there are no chairs, only large cushions that have seen better days, their vibrant colors faded and their edges frayed. Holding a plate and a cup of coffee, you meander around the room in search of an unoccupied cushion to sit on. It occurs to you that perhaps chairs are not conducive to the comfort of their wings. Then again, stools could have sufficed, you contemplate.

The clatter of plates, cutlery, and lively conversation interrupts your musings. "Hey Molo, pass the sauce!" Aether calls out across the table, his mouth full of eggs and bacon. 
Recalling that Aether was still asleep in the bunk, you wondered how he managed to sneak past you and Brighteyes in the main hall, as you watch the stallion carefully, Brighteyes trots pass you and sits down with a paper.
"Swallow before you speak, Aether," interjects Bright Eyes, engrossed in her reading of the Canterlot Evening Post.
"Not until Molo hands over the sauce," retorts the bat stallion, still chewing his food. "Hold on, Aether! Mini wants some too." Molo passes the ketchup to Mini, who responds with a grateful smile.
"Come on! I need sauce!" Aether impatiently taps his hooves on the table. "Aether, please, just be patient. 
"You're behaving like a young colt," admonishes Molo, raising her voice to be heard across the table.
Amidst the chaotic scene and the ongoing argument, a voice emerges beside you. "So, you can eat meat too?" Dawn Light says, wearing a smile as she places her plate on the table with her wing and settles onto the cushion.

"Yeah, you have no idea how thrilled I was when I discovered the castle offers ethically sourced meat. If I had to eat another apple or carrot, I think I would have perished," you reply.

Dawn chuckles softly. "I can only imagine. Living among regular ponies can be quite a challenge in that regard. It's refreshing to dine with another species without them freaking out because I've bitten into a chicken leg."

You nod in agreement, recalling your own experiences when you first arrived in Ponyville. Overcoming that initial hurdle had been a task in itself.

Glancing back at Aether and Molo, who are still engaged in their argument across the table, you can't help but ask, "Is there something going on between them?"

"Hmm?" Dawn looks up from her plate. "I don't think so. That's just Aether being himself. He enjoys riling everyone up."

"Aether! For Luna's sake, just wait!" Molo's voice booms, the table shaking under the force of Aethers drumming hooves. It becomes challenging to keep your coffee steady.

Mini nods at her plate, offering another smile, before passing the sauce back to Molo.

"Thanks," Molo acknowledges, then turns toward Aether, holding up the sauce bottle. "Here's your sauce!"

With a sudden motion, Molo hurls the sauce bottle across the table. However, her throw falls a bit short, causing it to collide with a knife and send it flying towards the bat stallion.

The room falls into silence, followed by a loud yelp as Aether collapses to the floor, clutching his neck. Panic fills the air as Molo jumps up from her seat, knocking over a few cups in her rush, while Bright Eyes remains focused on her newspaper.

Struggling to his haunches, Aether holds the knife, now stained in red, with his front hooves. He pants heavily, his speech strained. "Oh Luna! Oh Luna! Aether, stay stil—" 
Molo's sentence is abruptly cut off as she notices Aether's mischievous smirk and the ketchup bottle he holds up. "...AETHER! YOU KNACKERING—"

"Language at the table!" Bright Eyes interjects once again, her gaze still fixed on the newspaper. "And Aether, don't tempt fate. I've warned you about this before."

"Oh, that's cruel," Dawn mutters under her breath.

"Yeah, it's a rather cruel prank," you respond, although deep down, you find it slightly amusing.

As the table begins to shake from Molo's furious barrage of hooves on Aether, you once again hold onto your coffee, trying not to spill it.

"No, it's more than that," the pink-eyed bat pony continues, her voice filled with concern. "Aether's vision from the skull was Molo accidentally stabbing him thinking he was somepony else."

"Oh…" The realization sinks in, and you're taken aback by the gravity of the situation.

"Say," Dawn leans a little closer, whispering, "That reminds me, what was your vision?"

The room falls silent once more. Bat ponies must have finely tuned hearing, as you could barely hear her question despite her proximity.

As you observe the table, Mini continues to chew her food silently but with an intense focus. Aether remains caught in Molo's headlock, both of them staring intently. Finally, Bright Eyes glances up from her newspaper for a brief moment before returning to whatever article has piqued her interest.

"Uh well, my vision... uh..." you stammer, unable to help but glance at Aether.

"Buddy, if I was in your vision, just say it. It's been proven time and time again that the visions are more metaphorical," Aether interrupts, shrugging nonchalantly.

You struggle to find the right words. How can you express it? "It's like... Hey, dude I just met, you're probably going to kill me, or something like that..."

Aether sighs, still within Molo's grip. "Look, in my vision, I die by jumping out of a multistory building with my wings folded. How can that be if Molo stabs me and I bleed out before she can get help?"

"I guess you're right," you concede. "Well, in my vision, I ended up in a hospital covered in bandages. Aether comes into the room and injects some type of poison into my drip..."

"See, that's impo— ACh!" Aether's sentence is abruptly cut off as Molo tightens her grip.

"I knew you were some kind of psychopath!" Molo exclaims angrily, squeezing his neck even tighter.

"I... can't... breathe..." Aether manages to mutter, gasping for air.

"Let go of him, Molo. You should know, that you don't kill him that way," Bright Eyes orders in a monotone voice while calmly sipping her coffee.

Molo glares at Bright Eyes before abruptly releasing Aether, causing him to collapse in a heap, still struggling to catch his breath. "I'm going to wash up," Molo declares, grabbing her plate and exiting the mess room.

"I guess they don't get along," you whisper to Dawn.

"They clash a lot," Dawn replies in a hushed tone. "Molo is quick to lash out, while Bright Eyes' anger is more subtle. So, there are occasional massive showdowns between them."

"Dawnlight," Bright Eyes calls out across the table, capturing your attention. "Since you're so interested in our new recruit, he'll be joining you on your assignment tonight."

"What about Aether?" Dawn inquires.

"Yeah, what about me?" Aether echoes her question, finally pulling himself up and rubbing his neck.

Bright Eyes's attention shifts to the stallion. "You'll be removing all those runes from the floor of your bunk from last night," the gem-eyed mare states matter-of-factly. She continues before Aether can argue back, "And the floors in the rest of this place needs a good scrub."

"Great..." Aether mumbles as he sulks out of the mess room.

"And Mini, I presume it's your night off," Bright Eyes turns towards the silent twin.

Mini nods silently, accompanied by a warm smile.

"Anything planned?" Bright Eyes inquires.

Mini mimes an opera singer hitting the highest notes, placing a hoof on her chest.

"Singing lessons, hmm?" Bright Eyes remarks.

Mini chuckles silently behind her hoof before nodding in affirmation.

"Always a comedian," Bright Eyes remarks as she closes her newspaper and stands up. She sighs and adds, "Another night of paperwork for me then. See you two at first light for the debrief."

After gearing up with your equipment, you and Dawn Light descend the steps of the castle and step into the city below. The sky is painted in a deep shade of purple, illuminated by the radiant full moon, casting a cool, deep blue glow over the cobblestone streets. As you both stroll through the medieval-esque city, you witness the changing of the guards.

The changeover ritual is fascinating to watch. A Night Guard carries a torch, lighting the street lamps where a Day Guard stands. After exchanging their oaths to the princesses, the Night Guard salutes the Day Guard.

"I used to love waking up early and watching the changing of the guard," Dawn reminisces as she trots beside you, clad in her kevlar-like armor, with saddlebags on each side that likely carry the same weight as your backpack.

"It is quite impressive," you agree, still observing the ceremony. "So, where are we heading?"

"Hmm? Oh, right. Just across town. There's a family who hears strange sounds in their attic during the night," Dawn explains.

"It could be rodents," you suggest.

"Could be, but the report states that the family initially thought the same thing. They hired somepony to deal with the problem, but after just thirty minutes, that pony ran out of the house screaming," Dawn recounts.

"Scared of rats, probably?" you speculate.

Dawn chuckles. "There's more to it. After that incident, the family had a young nephew stay over for a few days, and the poor colt fell ill with a peculiar ailment."

"Is he okay?" you ask with concern.

"He's fine. As soon as the on-call doctor advised them to take him to the hospital, his symptoms vanished even before they reached the end of the street. It was as if he had never been sick," Dawn explains.

"So, what do you think it is?" you inquire curiously.

Dawn pauses, biting down on her lower lip, lost in thought. Then, she smirks. "I think I'll let you find out for yourself. You've been asking all the right questions so far."

"I have?" you respond, somewhat surprised.

"Yep, now down here," Dawn points down a side street, "it should be one of these houses."

You both turn and begin following the row of old town houses, occasionally stopping to check the house numbers.

"Number twenty-two. I think it's this one," Dawn calls out to you from across the street.

As you cross the empty street, Dawn removes her saddlebag and rummages through it.

"Shouldn't we knock?" you inquire.

"No, the family isn't home. They're staying at a friend's house during our investigation," Dawn replies. "There it is." She pulls out a large key from her bag.

Holding the key in her mouth, she unlocks the wooden front door and pushes it open with her wing. "After you," she says, still holding the key.