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|    Looking for the archived update with all the spelling errors,   |
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>Twilight twiddles with the blaster pistol in her coat pocket.
>Her palms are sweaty.
>"Minuette, I am so not qualified for this. Espionage is your expertise, not mine."
>"[No regrets,]" replies Minuette with a firm voice, apparently capable of professionalism. "[This has to look convincing. It *has* to be a Twilight.]"
>Twi swallows.
>"[Take the next left, it'll lead you to the balcony,]" Minuette continues in monotone. "[The mole should meet you there in five.]"
>Twi turns left, hopping over the rope fence marked 'under construction' barring her way. Probably Minuette's handiwork.
>Twi's stride quickens.
>"[And try to walk.]"
>Twi calms herself.
>The uncomfortably windowless velvet hallway stretches out in front of her, inexplicably decorated with curtains.
 
>"Overwatch?"
>"[Ready. Go for ingress.]"
>Twi steps forward, her hand resting lightly on her blaster.
 
 
- - - - - -
 
 
>"—and I must say, your theory is just absolutely fascinating! I've never thought the material diffusion had any role in—"
>Flash Sentry, stopping in the middle of a scientific discussion with Trixie, tilts his head as though listening intently to someone.
>He begins to frown.
>Then his frown deepens.
>Trixie looks nervous.
 
>"Is there something w-wrong with my theory? I could uh,"
>"Sorry, madame," he interrupts Trixie. "I just realized that I had left my keys in my shuttle. I shall be back tomorrow, perhaps."
>He hesitates for a moment, and grabs Trixie's hand.
>Trixie wonders if she had just seen a glint of tears in his eyes.
 
>"It's... been an honor, m'lady. I never imagined I'd meet someone quite like you, given the circumstance. I genuinely enjoyed your company, and I sincerely hope you did, as well."
>With another kiss on Trixie's hand, this time longer and more savory.
>He leaves.
>He looks back once, giving her an oddly sad looking smile.
 
>Trixie looks disappointed.
>She's stroking her hand, alluring imagery of a fellow intellectual still thumping in her heart.
>"...I didn't even get your number..."
>It's one thing to feel the plight of others, but it's a whole new ballgame experiencing it first-person.
>Trixie hangs her head.
>She looks entirely dejected.
 
>Saddened by her sudden predicament, the Element of Empathy goes off looking for someone.
>Somewhere. Anywhere.
>Someone to console her, for a change.
 
>She finds her grief counseling in martinis and a hint of his perfume.
 
 
>Anon is pitted in an intense mind game against Lyra.
>She is lightly clutching a ping pong ball, like a true expert would.
>Anon tries to stare very hard at the ball, hoping to alter its trajectory somehow.
>The mathematician in him wants to sever himself from the idiot attempting to defy gravity with his mind.
>The drunkard in him tells the mathematician to stop being such a buzzkill.
 
>The ball leaves Lyra's hand.
>It arcs perfectly towards the center of the table, dead center.
>The impact is accented by a characteristic 'clack.' It rebounds.
>A second arc is drawn perfectly, its zenith dead-center in Anon's half of the table.
>Anon begins to sweat.
>He attempts to summon the Heart of the Balls.
>In spite of his lewd advances, the ball lands squarely in Anon's last cup.
 
>"Well, that was easy," says Lyra, celebrating yet another perfect victory.
>Anon looks on helplessly as Lyra pushes a row of dixie cups to his side of the table.
 
"Unfuckingbelievable."
 
 
- - - - - -
 
 
>In a dimly lit room, a blue-haired figure lights his cigarette.
>He is surrounded by a dozen look-alikes of various age. They all share his glinting eyes, lean build, and undying love for their respective Twilights.
>Well, Flash Sentry wasn't so sure about the latter. Not anymore.
>Not after that pale blue wizard and her searingly beautiful intellect.
>He clears his throat. This is not the time for distractions.
 
>Flash gestures to the seats around the wooden table.
>"Please, be seated."
>Brads begin to pile in without a word.
 
>Flash begins with his firm, commanding voice. There's a hint of British accent in every word.
>"As you may have guessed already, our worst fears have been confirmed. We do have a mole in our ranks, and she's here. Today."
>This elicits no visual response. Everyone remains silent.
>Absolute professionalism.
>It pleases Flash Sentry.
 
>"Our orders are to bring her in for questioning, as per the council's wishes. We do not harm her, we do not harm bystanders. You know what the deaths of non-belligerents mean for the High Society, I presume."
>The group nods.
 
>One hand goes up.
>"Yes, Brad?"
>"About M-002," says the youngest one of the group, also with a hint of British accent. "Has the council decided on what to do with her yet?"
>Flash shakes his head.
>"Not a word, but all Twilights *must* be protected unless otherwise ordered. Having said that, however—"
>He puts on a grim face.
>"You understand our directives. If she interferes, then the gloves come off."
>He begins sweeping his gaze over the room, waiting for more questions.
>Everyone remains silent.
>"Very well then."
 
>Flash Sentry stands up.
>He raises his fist, one finger clad with a gold signet embedded with a massive blue gem.
>"Sapphire Saviors, assemble!"
 
>The rest of the room follows suit, their signets raised in the air.
>The proud leader looks at each of his hand-picked Brads, finding confidence in all of them.
 
>"God save the Trump," intones Flash Sentry.
>The group responds in unison.
>"God save the Trump."
 
 
- - - - - -
 
 
>In a balcony at Trxicalibur, a not-so-dead Twilight waits dreading.
>Dreading the exchange that should've happened ten minutes ago.
>"Minuette, are you sure this is the right place?"
>"[It should be, the handler wouldn't lie about— Wait. Stand by.]"
 
>A pause.
 
>"[Someone's coming.]"
>Twilight shakes her limbs out, preparing for any sudden exertion.
>Breathe in. breathe out.
>Hands casually in her coat pocket. Where she kept her blaster pistol.
 
>A light breeze kicks up, and Twi gets a whiff of alcohol in the air.
>The footsteps are audible. Soft carpet against dull, hardened soles of well-worn boots.
>Twi smells her even before she steps out.
>Whiskey.
 
>"Twilight?"
>"Sunset Shimmer?"
 
>Sunset's eyes widen considerably.
>"YOU are the disgruntled council member?"
>"No, but apparently YOU are a MUPPET agent," Twi pulls out her pistol, aimed squarely at Sunset's forehead.
>Twilight's mind begins to fly apart.
 
>"This-this isn't what it looks like," stammers Sunset.
>Twi is driven to the point of spitting rage.
>"Then WHAT exactly is it?? Do you even realize that MUPPET exists solely to oppose Twilights?"
>Sunset begins to lose her temper in turn.
>"And HST is absolutely obsessed with killing the Shimmer Coalition as a multiversal entity! Did you really expect me to sit idly by, letting them slowly choke our rights away? Let them dictate when and how I can return to my home planet?"
 
 
>Twilight's hand begins to shake.
>The unexpected rant she had made over a bottle of whiskey suddenly made more sense.
>Sunset Shimmer, once a gentle spirit trying to come to terms with her past deeds, was in distress.
>And in all honesty, Twi could see herself in Sunset's shoes doing the same thing.
 
>Twi's aim begins to droop downward.
 
>"[What the fuck are you doing? Take the shot!]"
>"WHAT?"
 
>"What," says Sunset, confused by Twi's sudden outburst.
>"[Don't you understand, you dolt? She's dangerous. She is a WILLING participant in committing espionage against the Society! Take her out, NOW.]"
>Still, she lowers her pistol, fully aware of what the consequences may be.
>Minuette holds very strong grudges against people who interfered with her work.
>Very strong.
>But Sunset is worth the consequences.
 
>"I can't do that, Minuette. Not to one of my friends."
>The blood drains from Sunset's face at the mention of Minuette.
>"So. You are here with... Minuette," whispers Sunset. "I-I've been set up!"
>Sunset turns, trying to sprint out of a potential death trap.
 
>A shadowy figure drops from the rafters.
>It breaks the fall with a deft roll, then springs up into a well-practiced firing stance in front of Sunset.
>Twilight notices the familiar glint of a jagged rifle, leveled out perfectly in the intruder's expert hands.
>The safety click sends a shock down Sunset's spine. She flinches.
 
>Sunset looks at the rifle muzzle, then the blue-white mercenary, then at Twi.
>Her eyes are screaming for help.
>Minuette flashes an impish grin at Sunset.
>"Why. Cat got your tongue, silly spoon?"
 
 
- - - - - -
 
 
>"MINUETTE," Twi howls.
>If she hadn't before, she's definitely feeling the killer instinct she had shunted away for so long.
>The rage almost feels pleasant.
>"Don't you fucking aim your weapon at my friend, Minuette!"
>Minuette puts on that annoying pout of hers.
>"Whaaat, a girl's not allowed to finish her job, mmm?"
>Twi raises her pistol again, trying to aim at the murder-crazed pixie.
 
>Minuette throws her rifle at Twi, buttstock-first.
>The hardened plastic impacts Twi's forehead with a loud thwack.
>The pain doesn't register just yet. Twi is too busy recoiling.
>Minuette grabs the rifle as it bounces off of Twi's forehead.
>Her hand wrap around the handle, gripping it like an axe.
>She then makes a forceful sideways chop.
>The end of the rifle blurs in motion.
>The pistol grip impacts Twi's right arm, much like a hammerhead.
>Something snaps with a nasty, dull crack.
 
>Not wasting a second, Minuette reinstates her aim towards Sunset.
>It's as though she had never moved an inch.
>Twi collapses, screaming in agony.
>Her entire right arm is numb.
 
>"Friend or not, I hate it when people get in the way of my hunt," growls Minuette.
>She licks her lips, looking satisfied.
 
>Sunset is frozen in place, unable to help neither her friend nor herself.
>"If-if I'm your mark, do it! But just... leave Twilight alone!"
>Tears begin pouring down Sunset's face.
>"P-please. She's my friend."
 
 
>Minuette lets out a fiendish giggle.
>"Oh, why would I kill you willy-nilly like that?? That would be worthless. I prefer my deaths with a semblance of worth, you see."
>Minuette fires two darts in quick succession.
>One lands in sunset's jugular, and the other lands slightly left of her solar plexus.
>Sunset feels her muscles stiffen.
 
>"That'll shut you up for a minute. Now, as for the final touch—"
>Minuette pulls the writhing Twi from the ground, apparently not strained at all from the exertion.
>"Upsy-daisy, my love," mocks Minuette.
>She grabs Twi's blaster pistol, and puts it back in her hand.
 
>"If *I* finish you, my little Sunbun, it becomes a diplomatic nightmare."
>Twi notices a small device strapped to Minuette's waist.
>It's a surveillance scrambler.
>Minuette wouldn't even appear as a blur in any of the security cam footages. She'd be invisible.
>Twi feels her agony being replaced with adrenaline.
>Her hand is clasped over the blaster aimed straight at Sunset's forehead.
>Minuette forces Twi's finger inside the trigger guard.
 
>"When Twi kills you, though, the shit just HITS. THE. FAN."
>Minuette's grin somehow widens even further.
>"And that's EXACTLY the outcome I need."
 
 
>Flash Sentry telekinetically pitches a fire extinguisher at Minuette's face.
>In a smooth motion, Minuette draws an elongated, curved blade. It slices through the extinguisher mid-air.
>The blade is sheathed even before the extinguisher hits the floor.
>The spewed contents begin fogging up the balcony. Minuette readies her rifle.
 
"And THIS—"
>Anon pierces through the fog, trailed by iridescent rainbow echoes of his silhouette.
>Minuette deflects Anon's glowing stick-thing.
"—is EXACTLY the outlet I needed!"
>He is wearing a pair of gauntlets, not entirely unlike the ones Twi had used before. It's connected to a metallic backpack via thick cables, presumably its power source.
>His longsword is glowing with rainbow hues.
 
>Minuette swings hard with the butt of her rifle, then begins jabbing with the barrel with blurred speed.
>To her surprise, Anon deflects most of them, and endures the rest. He is bruised and definitely bleeding.
>It doesn't seem to deter him at all.
 
>He responds with thrusts of his own.
>Minuette parries his swing.
>Then the next.
>Then the next several swings.
>Unexpectedly, Minuette finds herself on the defensive.
 
>"Get.... OFF OF ME!"
>She lets loose a long burst in frustration.
>The air around them explodes as Flash expands a circular barrier, deflecting most of them.
>Anon slices through the rest with his longsword.
>He takes a deep breath, then shifts into a well-practiced offensive stance.
 
>Minuette sputters.
>"H-how—"
 
>Anon stares down at her, his eyes blazing with scalding wrath. He wipes the blood from his mouth.
>Behind him, Twi is slowly getting up on her feet. Flash is running his spell over Sunset, presumably trying to remobilize her.
 
>Anon's voice is oozing with fury.
"Best Juggernaut NA, motherfucker."
 
 
- - - - - -
 
 
>Twi grunts with pain. Anon stabs her with a jet injector of cure-all.
>"Anon, how—"
"Minuette cut the comms after screaming at you to fire. I got suspicious, so I brought your new toy along for the fray."
>Anon tosses her a vicious looking rifle, still packaged in bubble wrap. He then nods towards Flash Sentry.
"Apparently him and his ~*Sapphire knights*~ bozos had the same idea, so we sort of joined forces. They're guarding the entrance."
>"It's [Sapphire Saviors], my chap," Flash corrects Anon. "And we're nothing like your emerald-wanking lot."
>Anon takes slight offense to that.
 
 
>"Minuette, we meet again," says Flash. He bows slightly.
>"Sorry love, ain't got a minuette for a council fuccboi," spits Minuette.
>Flash is utterly unperturbed by that insult.
>"How uncouth. Do you kiss your *other* masters with that mouth, madam?"
>Minuette's face goes pale.
 
"Other masters? What—"
>"She's been a MUPPET double agent this whole time," says Flash, gritting his teeth a tiny bit. "Her and the MUPPET high command set up the 'intel exchange' and had a fresh initiate handle the footwork. Someone undocumented and unaffiliated. Maximum deniability of any MUPPET involvement."
>Sunset looks horrified at the revelation, then angry. Immensely angry.
>Flash draws his own blade. It's gilded and almost as disgustingly dapper as its owner.
 
>"If M-002 had killed Sunset Shimmer, and the footage got out, it would've given every other organization in the multiverse a casus belli against the High Society."
>"Interdimensional organizations aren't supposed to kill anyone that aren't affiliated with an organization. They're non-belligerents. Even if the footage was faked, the body would've been found. And since Sunset Shimmer is unaffiliated, that alone would've been enough for *everyone* to wage war against us."
 
>"And weaken you enough for MUPPET to destroy your corrupt slavemasters!!"
>Minuette charges Flash out of the blue.
>They exchange a flurry of swings and sparks.
>"What does it feel like to be the ENABLERS of everything that's wrong with this multiverse, you MANSLUT? Countless dead, dislodged, because of your peach-assed BITCH!"
>That manages to get under Flash's skin.
>"Your unwashed plebeian masters have NOTHING on our lavender queen. NOTHING!"
>She breaks off, then sprints down the hallway. Back towards Trixcalibur's lobby.
 
"Where the hell is she going?"
>"MUPPET is going all in," answers Flash, then shouts into his comm.
>"Sapphire Saviors! Enemy reinforcements are IN the compound. Get ready for combat!"
 
"In the compound?"
>Twi suddenly remembers all the Moondancer copies she had seen in the lobby, all of them suspiciously fit.
>Lots of guitar cases and duffel bags.
>Suspicious, elongated bumps hidden in their trenchcoat.
 
>"Oh my god."
"Trixie is still there! We've got to—"
>"WELL WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE WAITING HERE FOR?"
>All eyes are on Sunset.
 
>She looks hungover in a way that would make Phobos run scared.  
>Whiskey and muscular arrestors probably aren't helping.
>Her eyes are glowing with demonic intensity.
>She's already transformed halfway into a demon. Her claws are sharper than usual.
 
>"LET'S GO. I'VE GOT A CUNT TO DESTROY."