Harmonic Substitution

Discord walked the winding and cluttered paths of the Canterlot garden and watched the cleaning staff pick up garbage that had accumulated from the ascension party for Princess Twilight Sparkle.  The party was glorious, the most fun he had had in centuries.

He didn’t really count the fact he was stuck in a fun-lacking stone prison for a thousand years only a good few months ago.  He preferred looking back upon his better days, had he been able to remember them.  Which, of course, he couldn’t.  Being a few thousand years old can do that to a person.

He had to sidestep over unconscious ponies, which were sprawled out all over the ground like discarded candy wrappers.  The amount of hard cider that was passed around during the party made Discord tipsy even thinking about it.  And, as it could plainly be observed, he was no stranger to alcohol or revelry.  The party was so rowdy that all of Equestria would probably be feeling a nationwide hangover come the next morning.

Of course, if Twilight had her way, it wouldn’t have been fun at all.  She tried to organize the candy mix by calorie content, and made the party activities each last 23 minutes exactly.  Discord was one more book reading activity away from snapping his fingers and making every written page in a twenty mile radius turn into saltwater taffy.

Fortunately, the party finally became interesting once Twilight retired for the night, and handed the reigns of the party over to Pinkie Pie.  As it could be plainly seen, the results of that decision were showing itself from the sheer amount of ponies laying unconscious all over the garden.  The cleaning crew studiously swept the ponies into a large pile set near the path.  Discord did not envy those that had to wake up on the bottom of that pile.

Discord wandered over to the edge of the hedge maze featured in the gardens, and extended his senses to encompass it.  He could sense quite a few ponies wandering aimlessly through the leafy corridors, no doubt lost because they took a bet from their fellow drunken party guests to navigate the maze while hopelessly drunk.  Discord reached out with his mind, and mentally nudged the tipsy equines onto the correct path to the exit of the maze.

He could have just as easily teleported them out of the maze, but mind meddling was his favorite power to perform, and the God of Chaos didn’t take kindly to being told he couldn’t do it, even if it was “morally wrong”, or “unsafe for pony minds”.  He could do whatever he damned well please, he was infinitely more powerful than anything these pastel horses could even dream of.

Not that Discord was ungrateful to Twilight Sparkle and her friends for reforming him, far from it.  They managed to rescue him from the worst of his madness, something he has carried within himself for far too long.  He could still feel it there, writhing against the boundaries of the self control Fluttershy had taught him to maintain, trying to feel for a weak spot in his discipline.  Discord shivered at the thought of having to deal with another thousand years of madness.

He unfurled his wings and launched himself over the maze, scanning over it to make sure that the lost ponies were on the track to the exit.  Satisfied with what he saw, he then flew over the rest of the hedge maze and along to the statue garden situated nearby.  He landed on all fours and sat right in front of where he had been sitting for the past few weeks that he has been freed.

His statue pedestal.

It was an odd sight in the garden otherwise full of regular, not-missing statues.  A squat, Corinthian column made of the magically enchanted stone he was sealed in for thousands of years.  Discord had been  drawn towards it for many nights now, and the pillar’s foreign yet familiar aura subtly alluded to his forgotten past, tempting him to return there night after night.  He conjured a cloth out of the void, and began polishing it.  This was the only piece of his past that was left, and the world can burn before it takes even this away from him.  This was the last bit of Discord’s past that the princesses haven’t scrubbed from the world, and he damned well won’t let anything take that away from him.

“You really shouldn’t be so stubborn, chaos god.”

Discord jumped a few feet into the air, and circled himself protectively around his column, searching for the source of the voice.

“Show yourself, shadowed one, so that I may see your face when I rip you apart, molecule by molecule!  Nopony sneaks up on Discord!  Not even Pinkie Pie!  And believe me, she tries.”

Nopony jumped out from their hiding spot and cowered before his godhood, so he allowed himself to relax.  Maybe he was just hearing things, after all.  He really should just head over to Fluttershy’s cottage next chance that he gets, maybe something is wrong with his eardrums...

“Oh, I think not, chaos god.  Do you not remember me?”

Discord whirled around again, and tried again to pin the voice to something he could see.  Nothing unusual could be noted from the surrounding area.  His shadow, on the other hand, was extremely unusual.  It was slowly writhing around in agony.  It drew itself up to Discord’s height, and seemed to gain substance in front of him.  Two red and glowing eyes opened and stared at him, daring him to try and attack it.

Now that he knew what he was aiming at, Discord launched into the air and conjured a fireball.  Aiming carefully, he lined up his throw with his shadow’s head. He was so putting this in his headshot count.  Does a headshot on your own shadow truly count as a headshot?  He shook his head.  He didn’t quite know for certain, but he would probably find out later, maybe Twilight had something on headshot ethics in her library. For now, he had to focus on the shadow, which was slowly gaining form.  It looked almost exactly like him, apart from the shadow part and the glowing red eyes.

With his target in his sights, he let loose the the fireball he was holding and it flew, without fail, straight into the the face of the shadow.  The shadow, as expected, dissipated when the fireball hit it, exploding into a thousand particles.  Discord would have liked to have left it there and was about to continue on with his early morning constitutional, but his plans were dashed when the particles started moving back into the form of his silhouette.  It got up, brushed itself off, and began to speak in the same voice that was talking to him a few moments ago.

“Really, I don’t believe attacking me will do you any good.  I’m here to help you, chaos god.”

Discord found that hard to believe.  I’m pretty sure I’ve used the same schtick this guy is trying to use on me.  I may as well play along. He drew himself to his full height and tried to look interested.  “What do you have to offer me?”

“I can offer you lots of things, chaos god.  What would you like?”

Ooh, he’s good.  Discord pretended to ponder for a moment, but he knew exactly what he would ask.

“I want to remember my reign of chaos.”

“I was so hoping you would ask that. “

Discord knew what would happen next.  The evil mastermind would barter a deal with him, he would refuse, and then the evil mastermind would try and silence him, most likely using imprisonment.   A bit like those goody two-shoes princesses, actually...

“All you need to do…”

Here it goes.  This chump is going to make me an offer.  Did he not realise how experienced he was in the field of manipulation?

“... is hold still.”

Wait, what?

Discord barely had time to register what the shadowy apparition had said before it charged directly into his body.  It didn’t tackle him, it dove into him, melting into his body.  A cold shiver passed through his body.  Well, this escalated quickly.  I at least expected him to invite me to dinner before going inside me.    Discord’s own humor was lost on him as the shadow exploded inside of his being, and he could feel the cold and slimy evil of this individual trying to turn his very essence to darkness.  He tried to fight it, but it was no use.  The power of this individual rivaled even his own level of magic, and Discord was a god.

Waves of shadow continued up his body.  The chaos god was horribly reminded of how he was turned to stone for the first time.  The slow, painful loss of control in his legs, the searing pain as his brain frantically sent commands to nonresponsive limbs, it was all there, drawn out in stark black and white, and all the shades of pain between it.  The memory paralyzed Discord even further.  A mocking laugh played in his head, obviously from the shadowy invader of his body.

“Oh, this is just too rich, chaos god.  You seem so tense.  Why don’t we lighten things up a bit?  The *old you always liked a little bit of...*

chaos.”

With that remark, the shadow made its way up to Discord’s head, and began to ebb away at Discord’s sanity.  The draconequus was powerless.  Come on, Discord, remember Fluttershy’s exercises.  Breathe..

Find your happy place...

WHERE THE HELL IS MY HAPPY PLACE?! I’M BEING INVADED!  REPEL ALL BOARDERS!  FOR THE LOVE OF CELESTIA, REPEL ALL BOARDERS!

Discord’s sanity didn't last much longer beyond his panic.  The last of his walls crumbled, and he crumpled down as well.  He felt…

He felt….

Fantastic.

Discord was elated.  He felt liberated.  No more Mr. Nice Discord.  That time was over, done with, ended.  Equine conventions of warfare? Please.  He was a GOD!  Discord could not be stopped, not even by those blasted Elements of Harmony.  He could take over the world!

Do not get too cocky, chaos god.

The aforementioned chaos god was startled yet again as the voice, this time playing out in his head, communicated with him.

“But why should I not be cocky?  These pastel little freaks mean nothing next to me!”

No matter how much you deny it, chaos god, the Elements pose a significant threat to whatever you want to wreak upon Equestria.  Might I suggest a course of action?

Discord had no reason to trust him, but he didn’t really care.  He was free Discord, he could do whatever he damned well please!  Hell, he could take over the entire country with a snap of his lion paw!  However, those blasted Elements of Harmony would get in his way, and the chaos god could freely admit that.

“Why not turn the Elements into cheese?”

Because, you deluded imbecile, you cannot affect the Elements directly.  No, we must alter the bearers.

Discord’s ear twitched.  “Imbecile?”

Never mind that.  I trust you know how to cross dimensions?

He nodded.  Of course he did.

Good.  Now, open a portal to Earth.  I believe you are familiar with that place.  I will give you your instructions upon arrival.

He scoffed, but nodded in affirmation to his request.  Hell, why not?  However, as Discord was preparing his magic to cross planes, he noted that the light was on at the window where Luna’s chamber was located, and he could see a telescope peering at him.

Perfect.  All the better to put on a show with my dimension crossing.  It really is quite spectacular.

He threw his arms out in a flourish, and began channeling his inner magic.  When he felt the tongues of magical flame lick at his insides, he let it out, giving a roar for effect.  The fire spread outwards for about an arm length before slowing to a stop.  Discord then sucked in the flaming vortex, fashioning the fire into a blade and using the magical energy to pierce a hole between the planes.  He enjoyed this next bit.

With yet another flourish, he reached into the cut, and pryed it open, viewing the majestic void that was the mortar between worlds.  Diving into the portal, he then shut the doorway behind him with a click of his heels.  The result of the air displaced from the portal snapping shut created a sharp crack, wakening some of the drunken ponies still laying about.

The chaos has just begun.

***

The snowy forest sank into silence as the fading noises of the battle retreated into the city. Having won the battle in the forest, the Allied troops managed to push the Germans out of the trenches and into the city.  They were in retreat.

However, the victory took its toll on the wilderness. Anyone on the ground would have been almost choking on the leftover mustard gas, and been appalled at the sight before them. Broken bodies littered the ground, their equipment strewn about, a gruesome reminder of the chaos that took place not even an hour ago.

Within this desolate area, a single site stood out among the rest. It would be easy for the passing stranger to note that this place was where the majority of the battle occurred. The snowy trees that usually spotted the area were mowed down and replaced with muddy ruts in the ground, some deep enough to hide in. Bodies were even more frequent in this place, denoting areas where the struggle was the fiercest. Even more gruesome were the bodies that still had a spark of life, moaning their plight and bracing themselves for their final breath. Anyone could be forgiven for thinking the place lifeless, had they not seen two biplanes dicking about in the sunrise.

***

Kurtis didn't know how to proceed. On one hand, he still had Greg with him, but he wasn't terribly useful when fighting actually happens. And, on the other hand, Michael had told them to stay put, muttering something about ‘the last time you tried to do something productive’ and ‘dozens of lives on our side lost.’  Kurtis decided that he just wasn't going to contradict that, and let him go off on his own to defeat all the enemies ever.  If Michael’s strength was half as powerful as his ego, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

Not that Kurtis was complaining.  The less dying at the hands of the enemy, the better.  They weren't exactly the best of teams. He and Greg could work together fantastically, only if the task at hand was doing nothing. Which, fortunately, was the task they were performing at the time..

“Hey, Greg, see anything on the horizon?” Kurtis maneuvered his biplane over closer to Greg's so he could talk with him.

“Nothing to see. You know, I could get used to this spot. No fighting, and I get to make all the puns I can think of.”

“If you make a pun, I will kill you. It doesn't matter if we're on the same side, you will die, and you will die because I killed you.”

“Don't worry, there's nothing to com-plane about, we're all in this toge- Why are you aiming your gun at me?”

Kurtis was about to fire off a few rounds at Greg, at least enough to get him to shut up, when he got a sharp feeling in his gut. Something wasn't right. Someone else was here. Could it be Michael? No, Michael was long gone. It was someone else. Where could he be?

He turned to warn Greg, but a god awful sputtering sound interrupted him.  From the clouds above came the most hideous biplane Kurtis had ever seen.

Every inch of it looked like it was patched up with cloth or metal, leading him to doubt that there was any of the original plane left.  The engine was protesting loudly from the moisture it received from the clouds it passed through, and a small trail of smoke rose up from the edges of its cowling.  Weapons of various sizes and descriptions decked the sides, some of them looking salvaged and useless, while others looked all too deadly.  Kurtis swerved sharply to avoid its sights, and nearly crashed himself into a tree in his haste.

Greg, however, was not so lucky.  With a very loud string of curses and insults, the recently entered biplane pilot took a gnarled old gatling gun, aimed directly at Greg’s propeller, and fired, completely forgetting the steering of his plane in the process.  Greg went up in flames almost immediately, no match for the freakish weapon the assailant was wielding.  The enemy then proceeded to fly through some branches, breaking the pilot from his tirade.  With a freshly renewed stream of curses, he freed himself from the tree and scanned the sky above for Kurtis, who was busily hiding himself to no avail behind a cloud.

Kurtis barely managed to avoid the stream of bullets fired off by the crazed assailant.  Shit, he found my ingenious hiding spot.   Kurtis decided to assess the situation.  Well, maybe I could just dodge him until he crashes.  He doesn’t seem to be the sharpest spoon in the toolshed when it comes to flying.

His newfound plan solely focused in mind, Kurtis set off on his survival strategy.  He climbed up into the sky, and stalled his engine.  When he began his plummet towards the ground, he did a few spirals and pulled away just as the ground was getting dangerously close.  He looked over to the enemy pilot, who was circling above, obviously dumbfounded.

High off of the success of his trick, Kurtis decided to perform a flip above the assailant, just to drive home how dazzling his dodging skills were.  Fondling his control column yet again, he pushed his plane to the breaking point, locking it into a frontflip encircling the enemy’s plane.  He looked over and made eye contact with the assailant, gloating his skill with his eyes.  Just when the momentum threatened to tear his aircraft apart, he pulled out and flew away, slightly disoriented from the flip, but satisfied with the elegance in which he performed it.

However, the ground was unimpressed by his display, and showed no prejudice when Kurtis hit the ground and exploded all over it.

***

Patrick took a moment to compose himself after observing the idiocy of Kurtis’ death.  In his opinion, flying into the ground should not be considered a legitimate strategy.  Other than that, all went according to the plan.  First, they kill off the two stragglers.  As expected, they didn't put up much of a fight.  Maybe with the next one, he would get an actual struggle. Patrick saw Michael fly off towards the city a short while before he came in to destroy the two of the amateur pilots.  Michael would be the harder challenge.  Arrogant as he was, he was an effective fighter when cornered.  He would take a bit more effort than these two.  Now he must wait for Austin’s signal to complete the next phase of the plan.

A few moments later, his signal arrived in the form of a line of bullet holes appearing in his left wing.  Patrick looked up to the sky and saw his teammate.  Was this his idea for a signal?  The combined roars of the motors proved challenging as Patrick tried to yell at Austin over the racket.

“AUSTIN, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”

“I’M GIVING YOU THE SIGNAL!”

“YOUR SIGNAL IS SHIT!  WHY COULDN’T YOU HAVE JUST YELLED AT ME?  I’M GOING TO NEED ANOTHER PATCH TO PUT ON THIS.”

“YOU BRING UP A GOOD POINT, AND I RESPECTFULLY IGNORE IT.  INITIATE STAGE TWO!  BESIDES,  YOUR PLANE IS TERRIBLE ANYWAY!  I’M PRETTY SURE I IMPROVED IT!”

With his message made, Austin flew back up into the sky.  He then hit his engine cowling with a wrench, causing a bright white smoke to flow out, making his plane resemble a small cloud.  Austin then went back to watching, waiting for Patrick to perform stage two of his plan.

Fortunately for said plan, but unfortunately for Patrick, someone was drawn to the violent exchange of words, and, with a flash of gunpowder, Michael came down from the sky, guns blazing, with an arrogant look on his face to rival that of James Bond.  Patrick managed to avoid the onslaught, but barely.

Austin’s tinny voice came over the radio Patrick had installed on his biplane.  “Shit!  He was supposed to be near the city!  When did he get here?  Oh well, the plan doesn’t change.  Distract him, but this time try and see if you can lure him back to the city.  Our entire plan hinges on his arrival.”

“Acknowledged, Austin.”  Patrick was about to turn off the radio, but a thought hit him.  “Wait just a god damn second.  Why didn’t you use the radio to send the signal instead of shooting me?”  However, Austin had already shut off his radio and was wholeheartedly hiding in his personal cloud.  Making sure his outstretched middle finger was aimed at the right cloud, Patrick then turned his attention to Michael, and was surprised to see him diving towards him, carefully aiming a grenade his way.

Shit. Patrick rolled out of the way, letting the grenade strike and demolish a  fallen tree. How am I going to get him near the city?  The only way to do that is to…

Oh, damnit all.

Patrick looked over to the smoking city far on the horizon, then back to Michael.

All the way over there?

Sighing, Patrick looped around the newly shattered fallen tree and sped off towards the city, with Michael in hot pursuit.

***

From his personal little cloud up in the sky, Austin chuckled to himself as he watched Michael engage Patrick in combat.  Everything is going according to plan.  If he played his cards right, Austin could get both Michael and Patrick to die.  His entire plan, however, hinged on neither of them killing the other until they both entered the city.

It didn’t look like he would have to wait too much longer.  From his perch, Austin observed Michael beginning to strafe Patrick, guns blazing.  Patrick was struggling to keep up under the fire, dodging under the treetops, and weaving his way between the trunks.  Michael was circling above, trying to properly aim, but the leaves and branches were interfering with his shot.

By the erratic way Michael was flying, it was apparent that he was unhappy about being led around.  Patrick, however, had no qualms about not dying to Michael, and hurriedly made his way to where the forest ended and the trenches began, the dividing line between the city and the forest.

Austin shot out of his exhaust cloud and began trailing them above, moving from cloud to cloud, carefully making sure he wasn't seen by either party.  He was only here to make sure they both lived to the point where he can spring phase three.  Michael, it seemed, had a different idea of how it should go.  Without the trees, Michael had a clear shot on Patrick, and he was gearing up to put down Patrick with a stream of lead.  Austin couldn't allow that to happen.

Picking up his wrench, Austin carefully aimed for Michael’s head, and threw it.  After hearing a faint “SHIT, WHAT WAS THAT?”, Austin cackled and phased into a pillar of smoke produced by a smoldering tank, satisfied to see that Michael was now off of his focus, wildly searching around for his assailant.  Patrick, seeing his opportunity, managed to escape into the city, giving Michael no choice but to follow him.

***

Meanwhile, Patrick was having a bad time.  With Michael hot on his tail, he had little room to plan his next move.  The city ruins below him offered little to no cover.  And Austin was hiding above, his pitiful attempts at being stealthy obvious to both pilots.  The fighting had died down on the ground, and the Allied soldiers were mopping up the last of the German forces.  Most of the heavy artillery had moved out, except for a lone anti aircraft gun poised in the center of the town square.  This is what Patrick needed to lead Michael to.

The loud crack of Michael’s machine gun interrupted Patrick’s plan, and he managed to pull up after almost crashing into the remains of a pre-war statue.  Correcting his flight path, he began trying to lead Michael to the center, weaving his way around the remains of the fallen buildings and pile of rubble.  Looking back, he saw Michael looming above, circling the block and trying to figure out what he was attempting to do.

Patrick dodged back and forth in the city, flying dangerously low above the remaining troops.  The narrow streets and lampposts made a terrible path for Patrick to follow, but he would be annihilated if he dared fly above what was left of the rooftops.  The soldiers shook their fists and cursed him as he drowned out their thoughts with his noise, and Michael cursed him because he wasn’t being a good little pilot by allowing Michael to kill him.

The only thing lying between Patrick and the AA gun was the crumbling market district.  While dodging an angry soldier throwing rubble, Patrick looked down and noticed the newest bullet holes dotting the wings and fuselage of his plane.  Shit, I don’t have much time left.  He fired a few more curses off in Michael’s general direction, and promptly received tenfold in return.

Realizing he had no other choice in cover, Patrick dove near the soldiers he nearly bowled down, and allowed them to throw their refuse at him, the sawdust and exploded pieces of stool and expired meats further obscuring Michael’s aim on him.  Patrick’s craft was soon cluttered with banana peels, raw beef, and other unspeakable garbage.

Patrick was only a hundred yards from the town square.  His sweaty hands struggled to grip the yoke, his nervousness showing through.  This wasn’t going according to the plan.  From what Austin told him, Michael was supposed to be slower than this.  It didn’t matter, though.  Patrick was almost to the town square, he could see  the AA turret warming up, and beginning to take aim.  In fact, it had already locked on…

You know, that AA gun looks a bit like its aiming at me.  I wonder wh-

Wait, SHIT!

***

Austin chuckled to himself again from his perch above the city as Patrick was ripped apart by a few rounds from the AA gun.  This was simply perfect.  The shrapnel from his explosion hit under Michael’s fuselage, sending his plane spiraling off over the town square.  Righting himself, Michael flew over to observe his fallen adversary.  Not much of him was left.  Shooting the wrecking a few times for good measure, he then flew over and did a few loops around the AA gun, seemingly confused at the friendly fire.  He flew around the market square, trying to find out who managed to steal his kill.

But Austin wasn’t going to leave any witnesses.

Quickly and silently, Austin descended from the clouds and made his way over to where Michael was circling the AA gun.  Ever so slowly, he lined up his sights, balancing the yoke with his legs so he wouldn’t lose control of his plane.

Slowly…

Slowly….

Michael suddenly whipped his head around and sighted Austin’s attempted assassination attempt.

Shit, he saw me.

Austin had to duck to avoid the barrage of shots and the returned wrench that flew his way, all delivered with a snarl on Michael’s face, who did not appreciate being snuck up on.  With a few extra curses, he tried to launch another barrage of bullets, but one thing stopped him.

His gun clicked.  He was out of ammo.

Austin couldn’t believe his luck.  He expected it to be harder to take him down.  It seemed that Michael wasted all of his ammo trying to murder Patrick.  Austin couldn’t blame him, though.  Patrick is a very killable person.  With a triumphant battle cry, Austin lunged forward, his rifle primed and ready to go.

Michael quickly turned tail and ran, flying back over the market district where Patrick’s still smouldering remains were lying, and around the edge of the city, desperately trying to outrun Austin’s guns.  Austin couldn’t help but appreciate the irony in the situation.  A man who prided himself on the chase was being chased himself!  He couldn’t help but cackle at the prospect of ending his killstreak.

While he was distracted, Austin forgot the most essential part of his plan, which was killing Michael.  While he was fantasizing his utter victory, Michael had managed to extract himself from the city, and was speeding off towards the area where Kurtis and Greg had died.  Austin just smirked and leisurely followed him. Oh, he’s just postponing the inevitable.  He can’t go too far.

With that thought etched in his mind, Austin went off after Michael, flying above the piles of rubble on his way out of the city.  Scanning the horizon, he spotted Michael fast approaching the beginning of the nearby forest, where Patrick had killed his allies.  Austin sped up to meet him, but he was too far off.  Would he lose him?

Austin put on more speed, intent on not losing his kill.  Michael had already reached where Kurtis and Greg had died, and was hurriedly trying to make his way to the other side.  Austin wasn’t going to make it.  Michael was crossing the edge of the forest, and was making his way across a river.   Austin couldn’t catch him in time.

MAP BOUNDARY REACHED.  TURN BACK NOW.

No, wait!  I want that kill!

3

Austin could see the double take even from this distance as Michael realised his mistake.

2

He tried turning around, but his plane wasn’t responding.

1

Austin laid back in his cockpit, resentfully accepting the game taking his kill.

0

Michael lost all speed in midair, and began hovering, neither moving forward nor back.  Slowly, he began breaking apart, piece by piece, until a thousand tiny particles dotted the air.  The particles then shot out in different directions.  The world then dissolved into wireframe, and a voice announced:

ALL BLUE TEAM MEMBERS KILLED.  RED TEAM IS THE WINNER.

Austin’s plane was the only material thing remaining in the world, and he took the time to do a victory flip as his radio opened up to listen to the chatter of the dead players.

“AUSTIN YOU TEAMKILLING ASSHOLE.  WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT?”

“You would think that they would have bigger maps with these dogfight matches. This is the third time I died to that wall.”

“I didn’t die, I just went to a higher plane.”

“This is why we kill you first, Greg.”

With a lengthy and held out sigh, Austin flipped off the radio, and let himself be dissolved into a thousand little microscopic particles.

***

In the skybox, there was nothing.  The round was over, the match was won, and there was no need for the map to still be running.  Nothing remained from the match, and the game was silently waiting for the command to boot up another match.

However, a single pink floating cloud betrayed itself as not belonging to the nothingness.  The game did not recognize nor see this object, failing to identify an object not of it’s software, nor even of this world.  The cloud then condensed, and started forming the body of a draconequus.

Discord was happy.  Discord was very happy.  These humans are perfect for transport. My master will be most pleased.  Yes, very pleased indeed. Discord snapped his fingers, and he himself exploded into a thousand tiny particles, fading into the skybox of the map.

Meanwhile, the five friends in question were bickering their hearts out in the game room, not realising they have proven themselves capable of bringing about the downfall of Equestria.