> It was all true. Ghidorah had led them true. The Bewitching Bell was within these walls. > > And even so, Ghidorah continued to lead them. His voice called to them from the Darkness, and they pursued it with no hesitation. More doors were opened to them, more ancient staircases that led them deeper, further, the Harbingers following the Voice until they came across something that made them finally stop. Finally breathe aloud. Finally take in their surroundings. > > A great cavern was laid forth beneath even the bunker. Where not a torch was alight and only a blinding whiteness could be seen glittering further below the steep mountain heart. For it was the mountain they finally reached, traversing the underbelly of Canterlot until the earth was their greeter at long last. Continuing in their descent, they followed, ironically, the Darkness to the light. It was not ironic to the Voice, to Ghidorah. He led them exactly where he needed them to go. > > And so, they stopped. One by one, all standing together, all leaning on the edge of the abyss and gazing skyward to the ball of light. Within it was their great prize. > > The Bewitching Bell. > > The ancient talisman sat locked away hovering over a great cavern in the mountain. An orb of magic surrounded it, slithering streams of shielding, magical rays swirling around the great orb. Pitch blackness rested in the abyss beneath the orb, no end in sight. Nothing but shadows to reach quite possibly the roots of Canterlot Mountain. > > But as they have read, as they understood, the Bell was trapped in the powers of the world beyond. Fortified so that no magic of this earth could pierce the veil. Yet it was dark magic that flowed within their veins. The magic of which the Dragon imbued them with. Ghidorah, their glorious King from the Stars, allowed his Darkness to flow with their minds, their spirits, their shared will. > > Every horn was ignited and a burst of black and gold magical streams flew forth into the orb.