Note: I am back! I hope you all have been hanging in there! Anyway, on to answering a couple reviews! To austin, actually, the FV215b is a British tier X tank! It's gun has an OP RPM, but it is not even close to being relevant when facing things like the T110E5. To AdorkableDerpy, baconwaffle you say? Hmmmmm... Challenge accepted. Now here is my latest chapter. I hope you all enjoy!

Dimension: Rerenhaw

Planet: Rerenhaw

Specific Location: The Council Room

Time: Five days after Lyric found Summer

Yet another Rerenhaw Meeting had been called. However, this time no one was very happy about the call. Tension hung heavy in the air as everyone leapt through portals from their home dimension to file into the large Council Room. For the first time in a while, Doxia was the very first to be there. He wrung his hands lightly, which denoted the fact that he was, indeed, very nervous.

Finally Mattimeo arrived. He strolled purposefully into the room and sat down in the head chair. The rest of the council followed suit.

There was a pause…

"Well?" asked Derpy, her voice bright and chipper in the hopes that her disposition could lighten the feeling of foreboding that hung over the assembly like a dark storm cloud, "How did it go, Mattimeo? Did she say yes?"

Mattimeo shook his head. "No. She said no."

Firestar flicked his tail over his forepaws as he said, "Very well. She has made her final decision. Now it is time for us to do the same. Doxia? What was this plan that you were speaking of earlier?"

Doxia sighed. Then he got up and telepathically activated a plethora of holographic projections. They slowly spun around the council room table in a physical cacophony of light as the council studied them.

"These are some notes I have been taking about my plan," said Doxia, "Would you like me to pitch it to you all now?"

Martin snagged one of the holographic projections with a paw. He studied it before tossing it back into the spiral of light. "Yes. Please do."

"Well, in theory, the unique DNA born of the Inquisitor-based Imagination Streams that materializes inside beings are practically useless besides being able to deliver the memories," started Doxia, "If that is the case, then we are not looking for the genetic makeup of a person, we are looking for their memories."

Doxia paused momentarily to sigh deeply.

"Go on," prompted Mattimeo, a tinge of interest invading his usually emotionless voice.

Doxia nodded his head in Mattimeo's direction before continuing. "Memories, unlike genetics, can be stolen. What we need to do is simply take whatever Inquisitor-based memories are hidden within Summer's subconscious. They were never truly hers to begin with, and she has in no way begun to rely on them, so we are not doing anything technically wrong. Additionally Summer will be able to go one her way without any harm from us."

"I like this idea quite well," mewed Firestar, "but I still do not see a repercussion yet in these notes. I know the multiverse too well for that. Everything comes with a cost or some form of an obstacle. Correct?"

Doxia nodded his head again. "There is one obstacle. As most of you are aware, memory-extracting is a tricky thing, since we are dealing with a being's brain and subconscious. In order for us to proceed, we need Summer to be in a coma. Wow. Saying that out loud made this sound terrible. You know what? Scratch this whole idea."

Doxia clapped his hands once, and all of the holographic projections spinning around in a mad dance of energy and light flashed out of existence. However, Mattimeo was not about to let this plan go.

"No, Doxia," he stated, "This plan has merit. With those memories on hand, we can pick-and-choose who we want to Summer's Inquisitor. This plan could work well."

"So, what, do we find a way to knock her out?" asked Roaslina, her eyes wide with horror.

"Unfortunately so," stated Mattimeo calmly as he telepathically brought up a dozen holographic scans reports of his own, "However, it is not as simple as that. From what I understand, we need to hit her with a trans-phasic Imagination pulse. It will stabilize her unconscious mind, allowing us to retrieve the needed memories. In short: we need to put her in a coma, and then bathe her in a special power pulse for this to work."

"But we have no idea where Summer is," Jiminy Cricket, "And we cannot simply re-occupy the My Little Pony dimension. That would cause a xenophobic uproar. Remember how intense that got a couple of decades ago?"

"Agreed," replied Martin, "I do not see how this could work. Unless we found a way to narrow down her location."

"Summer did say she was in the Stallion Empire, in the north," added Doxia, "But that is still too great of an area. I also would like to point out that putting Summer in a coma against her will is unethical and therefore illegal."

"As I stated before, Doxia," replied Mattimeo coolly, "This is not about ethics, this is about the Inquisition. We can hit the north with a continent-wide sub-sonic disruptor. It will only affect those who are blind. It will cause them to pass out within minutes. After the disruptor has done its job, we can hit the continent with a massive trans-phasic Imagination flash-bang. I understand that this is a large expense of resources, but it is required."

"No," said Doxia flatly, "We cannot do this. Summer and Lyric are being hunted. If we knock out Summer, than this reduces their joint chances of survival by a blanch-worthy amount. In other words, we could just be killing the two if we carry out this endeavor. I vote down this operation."

"Same," sighed Derpy, "As much as I respect you, Mattimeo, you just are not thinking this whole thing through."

"I vote this operation down not because it is effective –which it is– but because it is simply too dangerous and unethical to perform," added Firestar.

"There has to be another way. Rest assured, I will find it," said Martin stoutly, "I regretfully vote this operation down."

"I am the voice of reason. And I can easily say such a dangerous operation as this is most certainly unreasonable in many aspects. I vote this operation down," said Jiminy Cricket.

"I am sorry Mattimeo. You know how much I like you, but I cannot condone something like this. I vote this down," sighed Rosalina miserably.

Mattimeo stood there for a moment, his masked visor sweeping the scene. Finally he turned to Doxia and simply said, "Operation Infrastructure?"

This ticked Doxia off by quite a bit.

"No," snapped Doxia angrily, "This was not that. Operation Infrastructure was carefully planned and wonderfully executed. I knew for a fact that the projected deaths would be a gross exaggeration of the real amount of deaths involved. This is wrong, pure and simple. Operation Infrastructure was an excellent plan to bring down the Maelstrom, the god of evil, this operation is a horrible plan designed to steal memories from a blind filly and condemn her and her coltfriend to death."

Mattimeo bobbed his head slightly. "Noted. Very well. By popular vote, Operation Memory has been aborted. We will look for another way to retrieve Summer's Inquisition-based memories. Martin, you said you would not rest until you had a solution. Begin your search now. Dismissed."

The whole group began to file out slowly until only Rosalina and Mattimeo remained.

"I'm sorry Mattimeo," sighed Rosalina, "We're still friends, right?"

Mattimeo glanced at her. "But of course."

Though his voice was as smooth and tranquil as a small lake in a lush forest, Rosalina simply felt worse than before. She shook her head, turned around, opened a portal to the Mario dimension, and left.

Mattimeo was alone.

Slowly the Dimensional Lord brought up a holographic projection and opened a link to the captain of the A.E.S. Byron.

"Captain, this is High Dimensional Lord Mattimeo speaking," he said calmly, "I need you to redirect your ship to the Harmony Tree dimension. Enter into high orbit about Equestria Earth. When optimal orbit has been achieved. Hit the Stallion Empire continent with a continent-wide sub-sonic disruptor and a trans-phasic Imagination pulsator in quick succession. This movement has been given a class-5 secrecy level. Cut all communications with any sentient being until the mission has been accomplished and you have returned to your regular patrol route. Over?"

There was a moment of silence before the captain of the A.E.S. Byron replied.

"We understand your orders, sir. Beginning mobilization. All communications have been severed. Over and out."

Dimension: Provistorian

Planet: Averthon Magnum

Specific Location: Doorstep Valley

Time: Five days after Lyric found Summer

August continued to kneel beside the carcass of the young man, simply looking at the ground.

"August, we need to keep going," urged Jefferson, reaching for August's arm. August simply roughly shook off Jefferson's arm and continued to look at the floor.

"No, seriously," continued Jefferson, "If anyone in this town sees that you gutted a youth, they will all rise up in arms. We cannot afford to spill any more blood, or, more importantly, be slowed down."

"I think you have your priorities all mixed up, Jefferson," snapped Gene. Then, in a gentler voice, he said to August, "August, this was not your fault. You fell to Blue again. Come on, we need to go!"

August slowly got up, his hand shaking. He slowly pulled out his Inquisition Blaster and threw it away.

"I will not have that piece of death-inflicting hell with me," he said. He then turned his back and began to walk away. Suddenly he stiffened, and then, almost like in a trance, he turned about and slowly walked back. He then picked it up and holstered it once more. His face was the picture of dejection as he turned back to his friends.

"I-I cannot keep him out of my head," he mumbled, "And what's ever worse… I don't really mind anymore either."

"That's it," said Gene firmly, "We cannot go on. August will end up tearing himself apart before too long."

"No!" exclaimed Jefferson, "It is in our best interests that we keep going. Doxia needs you, August, the Amethyst Empire needs you. Who are you loyal to? Your friends, family, and nation? Or simply yourself. I would choose the latter myself, but I am not you. You understand what it means to be a hero, or have you forgotten so soon?"

August bit his lip. Blood began to dribble from the spot as he bit harder and harder. Then he gasped loudly and staggered back. Shaking his head, he sighed.

"We need to keep going. If we don't stop Orion, who will?"

Gene shook his head sadly, but Jefferson clapped.

"Bravo!" he exclaimed, "Right you are. Now we need to keep moving. I suggest we take to the air."

August nodded his head. "I think… I think that would be a good idea…"

His voice trailed off. He turned around to face the town. No one had seen them yet, but every moment they resided near the dead body of the young man increased the chance of them being caught. This did not seem to bother August, though. He continued to stare into the town, his face contorting as if he was in pain.

"There could be witnesses," he murmured, his hand creeping for the Inquisition Blaster.

Finally August jerked backwards with a gasp. He then turned around and quickly said, "We have to get away. Blue is becoming stronger all the while I grow weaker. We need to move."

Gene sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. What would he do when (not if) Blue consumed August? Would he have to turn his back on him? Would it even worth trying to befriend the being that would be replacing his friend?

"This is all Doxia's fault," groaned Doxia, "We have to go back. We cannot keep doing this. Perhaps we can find a way to undo what has been done."

"No…" murmured August, "This is my duty, my destiny. I will shoulder the responsibility."

"You still have a choice in all this, August, you can back out and refuse," persisted Gene.

However, August simply shook his head silently in denial. Then, beginning to harness his levitation abilities, August lifted into the air and began to fly off to the north.

Gene glanced at Jefferson.

Jefferson simply shrugged. Unlike Gene, he seemed less worried about the wrongness of the situation, and more interested in whether or not August would consider killing him along the line if he accidentally got in the way.

Jefferson then pulled out his Tron Hang Glider, and, with a running leap, glided off after August.

Gene sighed. Then, with a powerful leap, he became airborne like his two friends. In moments the trio was nothing but a small group of specks on the horizon, leaving the disheveled corpse of the innocent young man to rot in the sunlight.

Still determined to not let his friend give into despair so soon, Gene pushed his flying powers to the limits as he struggled to catch up to August. The moment he did so, August simply looked away to show that he had no interest in talking, but Gene continued to talk anyway.

"You need help, August," said Gene loudly over the howling wind as they flew, "I know you have made your choice, and I know that you've decided to become an Inquisitor, but that does not mean you need to suffer through this. I know that you vehemently are against becoming Blue, but it seems quite apparent that you cannot do it alone. What about Kytax? He is all-powerful, perhaps he can…"

August suddenly stopped flying. He just stopped in midair and hovered there. He had ceased movement so abruptly that both Gene and Jefferson had to pull hard turns to come about to face him.

"What if I want to be Blue?" shouted August to Gene. His voice choked, and his eyes were full of desperation.

Gene shook his head. "That is not what you want. You heard Doxia: they had no honor. They were not heroes. They were simply monsters that were leashed by the good guys."

"You don't know that," hissed August, tears slowly beginning to form at the corners of his eyes, "I've seen Blue's past. I've seen his memories. There is more to this. He was… he was hurt…"

"No," said Gene sternly, now trying to take the offensive, "You're just telling yourself that. Opinion and proof are two very different things, and while you have your own opinion, I have seen overwhelming proof that Blue was a murderer. He's killed, razed, and maimed his way through countless situations. That is not what heroes do. That is not what you do."

"Pardon me for interrupting," interjected Jefferson suddenly as he swooped by, "But what is your definition of a hero then, Gene?"

Gene glanced sharply at Jefferson before saying, "A hero is someone who is willing to protect the innocent and the weak at the cost of their personal gain, their goals, and their lives. They do it for the betterment of all, even if it means personal loss."

August opened his mouth and then closed it sharply. He started at Gene for at least a minute. Finally, he choked out, "Perhaps I don't want to be a hero. Perhaps I want to be an Inquisitor."

With that, August resumed flying off to the Scriptorium, which was now faintly visible in the distant horizon. It was a lone mountain, thin, craggy, and grey painted against the sky that had become blood-red with the setting of the sun.

Gene shook his head again, and resumed following August, but now from a respectful distance. He knew August had heard what he had said, but now it was up to him to decide what the next step was. Jefferson continued to follow them, his face rather solemn. It seemed that the conversation between August and Gene had sparked a few controversial questions within his head as well.

In a couple of minutes, they reached the Great Hedge that the Innkeeper they had met at the small town had talked about before. It was straight, green, and colossal. Though they were flying about a hundred meters in the air, they just skimmed the top of the green barrier. The moment they did, they noticed a sharp difference in the environment: namely, it was snowing. Literally. On one side of the Great Hedge (to the south), it was like the middle of summer, on the other side of the Great Hedge (to the north), it was like winter. Nonetheless, the same setting sun was hovering equally above both lands.

Despite this curiosity, none of the trio chose to comment or acknowledge it. Instead, Jefferson loudly shouted, "The sun is setting. I say we set up camp for the night and wait out the darkness."

August glanced back at Jefferson and nodded his head. He immediately began to slow in velocity and descend in altitude. After a moment of hesitation, Gene followed suit, with Jefferson right behind him.

Three touched down at the foot of a great snowy forest. Snow continued to fall in billows as the group took cover in the tree line. As the strolled into it, August peered through the branches, his eyes fixed on the horizon that was rudely split by the massive spire of rocks that was the Scriptorium.

"Somewhere up there is yet another piece of my armor," he murmured, more to himself than anyone.

"You mean Blue's armor," corrected Gene, now tense with apprehension. August seemed faint, as if his true self had become so exhausted that it had decided not to even combat Blue's submerged personality anymore.

August simply bobbed his head in acknowledgement to the correction.

Jefferson then loudly tossed himself on a pile of dead grass grouped about the cold trunk of a large pine and tipped his massive top hat over his face.

"I'm going to sleep," he said loudly, "If you two decide to continue to argue about whether or not August is now the new Blue, please keep it down."

"Do you care nothing for August's wellbeing?" snapped Gene, quite annoyed by the lack of empathy the mercenary had shown throughout the course of their adventures, "He is having trouble, and we, as teammates, need to help him through."

Suddenly, August spoke. "What trouble?" he asked in hushed tones, his voice even fainter than before, "I am who I am. I am an Inquisitor."

Note: Things look dark now for both August, and Summer and Lyric! Now, does anyone want a cake? No, this cake is not a lie. However, it IS air-flavored, so be warned. I will be willing to trade this cake for some reviews (A.K.A. FEEDBACK). You give me reviews, you get cake. A fair exchange, if you will. I know you know you want the air-flavored cake. Just look at how tasty it is...