It was a late Summer evening in Ponyville, quiet and warm. After a long day of work, almost everypony had gathered on Bronco Hill, a popular knoll overlooking the whole city and its neighborhoods, to observe and celebrate the Tears of Ourania, one of the most spectacular shooting star showers of the year. Pinkie Pie had brought star-shaped cakes and beverages; Rarity a precious tablecloth enriched with umpteen minute splinters of gems, colorful and marvelously shimmering in the sunset; Applejack had hauled a crate full of juicy apples; Rainbow Dash had rehearsed the almost complete gamut of her new flying routine, pretending to be a meteor; Fluttershy had come escorted by thrushes and nightingales, and Twilight, of course, with a book about astronomy and a telescope.
As the gloaming was slowly receding before the night, amidst the earliest glimmering stars the first streak sprung up; everypony then lay on the rich grass and enjoyed the spectacle of those flitting, unexpected ephemera dashing in the empyrean. After the shower had gradually died out, all lingered for a while, enjoying freshness and a silence barely disturbed by faint whispers and the soft, unmistakable sound of furtive kisses; then, with the wee hours, the assembly reluctantly split up, each one dawdling back home to get some rest at last.
⁂
The next day was a bright and sunny Sunday. Everypony had gone out to relish the weather, meander through the various parks, gossip about the latest news or savor the toothsome pastries freshly pulled from the oven of Mrs Cake. Twilight Sparkle, however, was busy with her favorite pastime: cleaning up the library.
“Are you really sure you don’t want to have a break and spend some time outside?” asked Spike. “It’s such a wonderful Sunday!”
“Spike! I’ve told you we’ve got to get this over with. Once it’s done, I promise I’ll let you go gadding wherever you want!” protested Twilight, huffy.
“All right, all right, Twi’,” sighed Spike. “You’re the boss.” As he stooped to pick up another book from the clutter, somepony knocked at the front door.
“Don’t move Twi’!” shouts Spike. “I’ll get it.” He scurried to the door and opened it; the familiar face of a young filly greeted him with a large beam. “Hey! Apple Bloom! Howdy?”
“Not bad, Spike, thanks!” answered Apple Bloom cheerfully. “Is Twilight inside?”
“I suppose,” shrugged Spike. “Twilight! It’s Apple Bloom, she wants to talk to you!” he shouted.
“Coming!” Twilight climbed the stairs down. “Nice to see you, my girl! What can I do for you?”
“My sister has requested your assistance. Apparently she has unearthed something weird in one of our orchards, and she’d like to have your opinion,” explained Apple Bloom.
“Something weird?” repeated Twilight, suddenly intrigued. “What is it?”
”I don’t know, she won’t let me approach it,” Apple Bloom replied glumly.
“Okay!” said Twilight. “On my way! Spike! Good news, you’re dismissed. Chuck your broom, go out and have fun! We’ll resume our chores later.”
⁂
Trotting lightly, Twilight Sparkle and Apple Bloom emerged from a thick grove into a clearing where Applejack and Big Macintosh were chatting softly; as the muffled clop of the two newcomers reached their hears, they turned around.
“Hey! Twilight! Nice you’ve been able to come!” Applejack greeted Twilight. Pointing at a small excavation in the ground, she carried on: “Peek into this hole. Discovered this mornin’. Never seen anythin’ alike before!”
Inching forwards, Twilight reached the brink of a tiny shallow crater, not a meter wide; in its center lay an odd, ball-sized object. But definitely it was no ball: its surface was drab and it appeared to be covered in irregular protruding scales, interspersed with furrows of a slightly lighter color; not unlike a giant truffle.
“Twi’, d’ya know what in tarnation is this?” asked Applejack, puzzled.
“I don’t have the slightest clue,” admitted Twilight, obviously flabbergasted. “But you’re right, this is uncanny. Did you try to hoist it?”
“Yup!” replied Applejack. “With a shovel. Didn’t budge. And look!” She bent and grasped the shaft of a shovel, whose blade was partially cut, as by a saw blade. “That daern thin’ has somehow eat’n the blaede away. Ah reckon it must be sweating acid, that’s why it made this hollow ’n the ground. When Ah saw this, Ah gave up the idea of raisin’ it with my bare hooves and sent Apple Bloom to seek ya out.”
“And you did well, Applejack,” nodded Twilight. “This is a really peculiar… thing. It may even be dangerous. The best thing to do is to leave it alone for now. I’m going back home and will skim through my books to see if I can find something relevant. I shall be back tomorrow at dawn. Meanwhile, just relax: given its size, I don’t think it can do much damage.”
⁂
The Sun had not yet risen when a disheveled Twilight rushed into the clearing. Applejack was already waiting for her, pacing back and forth restlessly.
“Morning, Twi’! Ah’m sorry, Ah don’t want to stress ya, Ah just couldn’t sleep peacefully,” explained Applejack. “Ya know, if somethin’ goes awry with my orchards, Ah can’t help but frettin’.”
“Well, Applejack, I can’t blame you for that!” responded Twilight mellowly. “But I have no good news for you: I have spent almost all my night leafing through every zoological reference I own, and found absolutely no record of a – thing – like this. Either I’ve missed something, or it’s a new doozy.”
“Can’t we get rid of it? Ah mean, no big deal, but it keeps niggling aet mae. Besides…” She broke off, scrutinizing intensely the hole despite the gloom. Then, shaking her head: “Ah wouldn’t bet, but Ah’m pretty sure it is slightly bigger than yesterday. Somehow Ah have a bad feeling about this.”
Twilights pondered for a while. “You know what?” she finally said. “I’ll teleport this whatchamacallit in my laboratory. It’ll be easier for me to examine. And safer, too.”
She closed her eyes, lowered her head and focussed. Her horn began to shine with a faint reddish glow, that quickly increased, climaxing in a sudden dazzling white flash.
“Twilight! Watch out!” screamed Applejack. She rushed to the unicorn and shoved her violently.
“What? What… has hap… happened?” stuttered Twilight, teetering. “Where am I?”
“Ya almost slept into the hole!” explained Applejack. “If Ah hadn’t jostled you, you’d probably be dead by now, your guts dissolved by this – big berry.”
Twilight opened her eyes, blinked and shook her head in disbelief. “But, I shouldn’t be here! The spell should have borne me and the darn thing home! Why has it failed?”
“Don’t ask mae, Sugarcube! Fact is, you still here, and our big berry also!”
“It’s just outright impossible: this spell is so simple it works flawlessly. At least it always has; nothing can go amiss. It appears there’s more to this strange freak than meets the eye,” added Twilight, still dazed. “I’ll have to use a stronger magic, such as…” She broke off, suddenly reeling. “I’ll be back later. Forgive me, Applejack, but I didn’t sleep a wink last night and I badly need some rest before studying further.”
“No worry, Twi’!” replied Applejack. “You look downright frazzled. Have a naep. I can wait.”
⁂
Twilight eventually reappeared at the end of the day, followed by a strange shining cage that was gliding freely about one meter over the ground.
“Hey Applejack! It took me some time to tackle our problem, but I think this time I worked out a solution.” She pointed at the cage: “I have cast a repulsion spell on the bars of this cage: it creates a force field that repels all dense matter that approches within a few centimeters; that’s why the cage floats. I’ll levitate the thing into the cage, lock it in, then tow it home,” detailed Twilight.
“Ah wouldn’t be thaet optimistic, Twi’,” retorts Applejack somberly. “Look!”
Once again, Twilight cautiously padded to the brim of the crater. Inside it, the strange berry had – this time undoubtedly – grown larger: it was now about the size of a small bale of hay. The crater looked deeper and wider, too.
“That thing must somehow feed on the organic substances contained in the ground,” put Twilight forward. “In which case, my blueprint still holds! Cooped up in the middle of the cage, it will not be able to assimilate anything anymore. Maybe it will starve and wither? Bah! Enough prating, let’s do this.”
She cocked her head and the upper part of the cage slid open; gritting her teeth, she shut her eyes. A bright blue ray sprung from her horn towards the hole. She groaned, tried to raise her head, which seemed somehow stuck; grunting again, she strengthened her will. The shaft became blinding with power.
“Twilight, Twilight!” squealed suddenly an alarmed Applejack. “Stop! STOP! BACK UP!” Her voice rose to a panicked cry: “BACK UP! STOP! WITHDRAW!”
The beam of light faded out, and the unicorn opened her eyes. A few steps in front of her, a dark mass was now towering over the whole clearing: the – thing. It had bloated unexpectedly ten, hundred, thousand times, becoming a huge sphere, almost five meters high; not able to fit anymore in the comparatively tiny crater, it swayed slightly before starting to roll down the slope. Barely in time, the two ponies leaped aside as the giant ball slowly trampled by, reaching the first trees that collapsed under the weight with a crash. Acquiring momentum as it moved on, the big rocky freak cut a wide groove amidst the orchard; soon it disappeared from the sight of both fillies, living behind only desolation and a now distant smash, gradually muffled as time went on.
Twilight burst into tears. “What have I done?” she muttered, cowering as if she was going to be thrashed. “I should have guessed from the start that this… organism does not feed on matter, but on energy. That’s why my teleportation spell did not work in the first place: it absorbed its magical power. Somehow that… doozy can transform matter into energy when it has nothing else to guzzle, but this is obviously an inefficient process. Instead, the blockhead I am has given it a full ration of luscious food… Twilight, you nitwit! Now, it has wreaked your orchard havoc, and who knows what else…”
“C’mon Sugarcube,” said Applejack warmly, hugging the blubbering unicorn tight. “Don’t be too harsh with yourself: there was no way you could know. You’ve done your best. Braece up, this is not over! Let’s go and see where this durn thing ended up…”
Twilight calmed down a little, stifling her sobs; she stood up, fighting to keep her balance, like a newborn foal. Having more or less recovered, the two fillies cantered downhill along the deep trench, amid a spectacle of devastation.
“If we cease to use magic against this… sponge,” Twilight reflected, “it will have to eke out its food from the soil, and will certainly stop to grow madly as it did. That can save us some time to figure out a way to get rid of it. I think –” She broke off and gulped, as a vast and dark shadow swept over the area.
“Look, LOOK!” screamed Applejack out, cringing. Twilight glanced up and froze. The huge sponge had somehow managed to take off, and was now gliding well over the treetops. It circled around, like a hawk ready to swoop down on its next victim and, unexpectedly, swerved and vanished with a swoosh.
“Which way did it go?” asked Twilight, almost hysterical.
“Ponyville, I fear,” answered Applejack. “Hurry, we don’t have a minute to lose.”
“Oh no! For Celestia’s sake…” blurted Twilight.
Both galloped away as fast as they could, rushing towards the city.
⁂
Slowing down as they arrived in sight of the first houses, Applejack and Twilight immediately noticed the closed shutters and the doors left wide opened, as if the inhabitants had fled away in panic. As they headed towards the center, a rumor, first remote, then louder, rose. They eventually reached the Grand’ Place and halted, panting: a raucous and restless throng had mustered there, that the mayor was desperately trying to control and silence: “Please, please, quiet please!” she shouted, but nopony seemed to care.
“Twilight! Applejack! We were so worried!” squeaked Pinkie Pie, emerging from the crowd, followed by Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy and Spike.
“What happened here?” inquired Twilight, still breathless. “Did you see a big black ball in the sky?”
“You saw it too?” asked Rarity in return.
Twilight answered by another question: “Did it land here?”
“No!” responded Rarity. “We saw it hovering over the city, especially right atop the Sugarcube corner. Brrrrr… It was dreadful, like an ominous big ballon, almost as large as this place –”
“Balloon, balloon, baloney!” Pinkie Pie cut in, hopping around.
“Pinkie! Please!” supplied Twilight. “Carry on, Rarity.”
“Well, it remained poised in the air for five minutes or so and, all at once, it drifted away towards the Everfree forest,” concluded Rarity.
“It whizzed over my house!” added Fluttershy. “And frightened all the animals!”
“Rainbow!” hailed Twilight. “Did you follow… it?”
“Not after it entered the forest. I don’t feel flying over that creepy jungle. You know, the clouds move on their own and you can sometimes meet freaking strange birds over here,” confessed Rainbow Dash.
“If you seek your spooky flying thing,” declared a voice behind Twilight’s back, “you will find it by the forest hot spring.”
Twilights spun around. “Zecora! You’re safe!” she exclaimed with a large grin. The zebra had seemingly lugged part of her stuff all over to Ponyville, fleeing the danger. “Getting rid of the thing quickly we must, lest all Equestria soon becomes dust,” she added.
“Zecora,” said Twilight sternly, “are you sure the… sponge has landed in the bubbling lake?”
“Definitely.”
“It must be using the heat as source of energy to slake its hunger,” pondered Twilight. “At least we can bet for a letup of a few hours. I hope…”
“But, Twilight, what is that thing?” Fluttershy inquires.
“I don't know,” conceded a nonplussed Twilight. “What I know is that this organism that eats matter and drinks energy, even magic. It gnaws and grows, gnaws and grows, becoming hungrier and larger each time. I am afraid it will not stop until it has devoured… all Equestria.”
“Good Celestia! Does that mean… that we are doomed?” squealed Rarity, almost fainting.
“Not yet,” Twilight affirmed.
“But where can such a thing come from?” asked Rainbow Dash.
“I have no clue, Rainbow. Although I wonder if –” With that word Spike belched off a message; he grasped the parchment, unrolled it and turned it over to the seven ponies that had gathered anxiously around him. It bore a short and blunt sentence: Twilight Sparkle, meet me at once in Canterlot. Princess Celestia.
“Guys, I guess I have to go. Celestia will surely trash me in the deepest dungeon of Canterlot and throw the key away in a bottomless pit," lamented Twilight, distressed. “Farewell, my friends. I hope the rest of you can devise a plan to get rid of this intruder. Because as long as it lurks around, we are living on borrowed time.”
Let’s call it a “leech”. When, where and why it was born, the memory was lost; was it the result of a spectacular mutation, of a scientific experiment or a supreme living weapon wielded in a merciless and long forgotten war, it could not tell. It faintly remembered that in a remote past, it was large enough to swallow dozens of suns and planets in a single swift; it had wreaked empires havoc, withstood titanic detonations from giant thermonuclear missiles, wiped out ancient and terrible civilizations. For ages it had roved around, feeding on any kind of matter it encountered; until one day it consumed the very last sun of its galaxy, leaving behind only debris and black holes – the only objects in the Universe it actually shunned.
Then it began starving.
For the first time in its life, it had nothing more to prey upon. Reaching the nearest star, it knew, meant embarking on a voyage through the intergalactic depths, a venture that, even at the speed of light, would take hundreds of millions of years – far more than he could possibly hope to survive. But what other choice had it? So, boosting as much as it could, it thrusted itself in the direction of the most appetizing galaxy.
To fend off the icing void, it had to convert its own body into heat: it shrunk and contracted, until it became no more than a mote of weird matter, a fleck of few cells dashing at a dazzling speed in the primeval blackness. Unable to warm itself anymore, it sank into a deep hibernation state; in this seed-like form, it could endure nearly for ever.
⁂
Time paced slowly towards eternity. The seed eventually reached the outmost rim of its targeted galaxy.
⁂
Darting past the remotest stars, it hurtled towards the warmer bulb; space-time curvatures deflected it, slowed it down. It skittered amongst the nebulae and clusters, encountered several dust clouds that further reduced its speed, until it eventually encroached on the gravitational field of a star. As it approached the central sun on a parabolic trajectory, it collided with a scrawny asteroid and remained stuck. Its trip across immensity had ended.
Paralyzed by billions of years of sleep, it hardly reacted to the presence of matter. Reluctantly, a vestigial, shaky quantum driven membranous mechanism started pumping up minute amounts of thermal energy from its host; feeble, but sufficient to fire up other, more efficient atomic reactions that, in turn, gradually awoke the main metabolism. In a few days, the leech had begun to grow again, and soon it had eaten up the pebble into which it had bumped, adopting its orbit.
An orbit that led to Equestria.
The landing was rough, but the leech had survived many crashes. It began immediately to convert every bit of matter around it, digging a small crater. As its cells frantically multiplied again, it became aware of its environment; it realized it lay on the surface of a wide and warm object – possibly a planet! That would mean more ressources than needed to recover from its journey. So, silently, it kept on converting nearby matter into energy, and energy into tissue.
Until it unexpectedly received a burst of pure energy, albeit on a curious wavelength; unprepared, the leech barely assimilated it, dissipating the brunt of the charge in the surroundings. But that delicacy roused up its consciousness for good: it scanned its neighborhood, detecting various sources of low-interest mineral ores and a few complex objects, mostly hydrocarbonate based. Still too weak to move, it resumed assimilating the semi-organic matter it was already preying on, preparing itself for another energy surge.
Just in case this one was but a harbinger.
And, indeed, it was.
After a short break, its sensor cells detected two approaching mobile carbon-oxygen-nitrogen forms, accompanied by a mineral object radiating a strong field that whetted its appetite. As it was wondering how it could pounce on that gourmet dish, a new blast of energy was poured directly on it. This time, the leech did not miss the opportunity: its dedicated system funneled the incoming flow towards the cell creation process, that almost ran wild under the strain; the excess of energy was cautiously diverted into its ionic tissues for storage.
The downpour, already hardly manageable, abruptly increased. The leech was momentarily stunned by the blow. Coming back to its senses, it realized it was tumbling madly along; but it had now collected enough energy to control its motion. It generated an anti-gravitational field, hoisted itself above the various objects surrounding it, and began a thorough scan of its vicinity. It was definitely on a planet: it sensed a nitrogen-oxygen based atmosphere, with ubiquitous carbon compounds, many still, some moving; energetically low potential. Then, as the range of its sensors expanded, it detected a source of moderate heat that was way more promising: it dahed towards it and skidded to a stop right above. Disappointed, it realized that it was paltry and transient: oxydation and chemical breaking of molecular bonds from carbohydrate molecules – a stinted amount of them, at that. Nothing he could feed on reliably.
It was already thinking to turn back to its former location when something caught its attention at the extreme range of its still weak senses: more heat, and this time from a stronger source, it seemed. Goaded, it moved on; as it was closing on, it perceived the warm spot was a pond of simmering water. It landed in its middle and began wallowing, hungrily absorbing every calorie available.
And pondering how much time it would take it to swell enough to engulf this world, and, just after, its nearby sun.
It was late afternoon when Twilight Sparkle reached Canterlot castle. Reluctantly, she made her way through the mighty corridors, swaddled in the gilded glitter of the evening sun, into the royal hall, where Celestia and Luna were pacing restlessly, apparently eagerly waiting for her.
“What is thy bidding, my master?” begged Twilight, bowing down and hunching.
“Oh Twilight!” Celestia tittered. “I know you dote on classics, but please don’t be so formal! Yet – it is true – I heard there is a great disturbance in Ponyville. Apparently, we have to deal with a new enemy.”
“Yes, master,” answered Twilight miserably. “That freak organism is now threatening all Equestria. And it’s all my fault. Will you ever forgive my blunders?” She crouched and collapsed, blubbering.
“Brace up, my dear student. Nopony would have fared better than you did. We will find a way to send this monster back from whence it came. You will. You never failed me!” said Celestria in a mellow tone. “Go with my sister and show her that fiend: she knows a lot of powerful magic that might prove helpful. I await your report.”
Luna padded towards Twilight, stooped and hugged her. “Rise, child, and fret no more, for we shall find a way out of thy anguish.”
“How can you be so sure, princess?” asked Twilight, visibly not comforted.
“No being I wot of is invulnerable. But strike with posthaste we must, afore it wreaketh our beloved land.”
“Do you have a blueprint?” inquired Twilight, standing up.
“Not yet. First, I must wont myself with our foe, ere we can wile it,” explains Luna. “Prithee, show me thither I can behold this… ye…” – she falters – “monster.”
“If you so desire, princess”, said Twilight, bowing once more. “Follow me.”
Both trotted off the throne hall towards the entrance of the castle where a cart propelled by four Pegasus guards, awaited them. Stepping into it, they immediately set out to the edge of the Everfree forest.
⁂
“I swear I never saw aught such!” Luna confessed, visibly baffled, as she stood nigh Twilight on the top of a cliff towering high above the Bubbling Lake. Indeed, the bedlam was spectacular: the sponge, grown more than a hundred meters wide, had become a squat, dull and scaly knoll in the midst of the lake; its harsh landing had visibly caused the large pond to overflow and form new inlets, scorching the vegetation now drenched in its simmering waters. The whole place, shrouded in misty curling vapors, ablaze with the sunset, was moreover plagued by the sizzle made by the myriad of bubbles that were surfacing each second from the depths of the mere.
“Hearken me well!” Luna declared to Twilight, cocking to her side. “As thou wost, magic is wrought from ye raw power of ye grand pool that orbs our universe and all the existing multiverses; thy will work it into might, that thou then throwest upon thy quarry. Now, I will cast a spell that acteth ye other way: it borroweth energy from its recipient, that it returneth to ye pool. If this organism feedeth upon power and heat, then it ought to wizen when bereaved from its fodder.”
The princess shut her eyes; as her horn began to glow faintly, an almost invisible blue halo appeared around the sponge. One minute passed, then another one, and nothing much was transpiring, as if time itself had halted. After a seemingly endless period, Twilight noticed that the ambiant noise was slightly less perceptible. Then the hush became unmistakable, but everything else was apparently unchanged. Twilight was about to snooze, lulled by the surrounding silence, when a detail suddenly caught her eye.
“Princess, look!” she shouted.
Luna opened her eyes as the glow around her horn faded away. Down below, around the sponge, the surface of the lake seemed amazingly lustrous, and, further away, strangely curdled.
“The lake is icing! The bubbling has ceased! The temperature of the lake has slumped!”
“By ye waxing Moon!” mutters Luna. “That thing hath somehow bent ye shaft into ye pool, causing ye water to freeze. It is more subtle than I expected.” She mused awhile. “I am at a loss presently. Night awaits my rising of the Moon. Go back to Canterlot I must ere darkness deepenth. We shall confer with my sister.”
⁂
“Now what?” Celestia stamped around, somewhat cranky. “We cannot let this thing gobble up the land until nothing’s left!”
“If we try to use magic,” Luna answered, “we wist it will feed on it. It can also bow energy drain channels and cast them aside. Maybe if it were enclosed in ye void…”
“Or we could try to freeze everything around it to drastically reduce the amount of environmental energy available to it?” wondered Celestia.
“I don’t think so, princess: It would just move to someplace else. Besides, we cannot transform all Equestria in an icy waste just for the sake of getting rid of this… sponge!” observed Twilight.
“In aught that I may guess, we’ve overlooked something so far. But what is it?” exclaimed Luna.
“What if…” Celestia begins. She breaks off as a guard unexpectedly rushed in.
“Your highnesses,” he began, bowing low, “I beg forgiveness for this inconvenience, but something of the utmost importance has happened.”
“Speak!” ordered Celestia.
“The… hum… living ball you are chasing has left the Everfree forest. It has moved and landed into the Fyrjaberg!”
“The volcano?” blurted Twilight, bewildered.
“Indeed,” replied the guard. “And it was reported that it has already consumed half of the crater. It seems to drill down into the vent.”
“Apparently the heat of the Boiling lake did not slake its hunger anymore,” growled Celestia. “Thanks for keeping us informed, sir. You’re dismissed!”
The guard bobbed a curtsy, turned around and left the room.
“Right now, dat unforesheen nevent sheemsh to indicate dat our … guest … morf … ish eking out ish living from ye shoil and badly … munch … needsh more powerful shourshes off enerchy” remarked Luna, gulping a few cupcakes. “Chorry, dat remark upon unger…”
“But we must stop it before it seeps into the depths of Equestria!” muttered Twilight. “Otherwise, all is lost.”
“Something is dawning on me… Well, it craves energy, then let’s give it energy!” Celestia suddenly roared. “Listen to me and let’s get this over with!”
⁂
The sponge, now fully conscious, had been wallowing for a while in the hot waters, enjoying its roborant bath, when a force field of unusual wavelength had been focused on its inner guts, in an attempt to smuggle away the energy it had so uneasily pumped from the outside matter. It could not allow this to happen, so it set up a shunt that fed the field with the thermal energy available nearby. But so powerful was the assault that the water quickly became chilly, thereby threatening to drain its own energy away by mere heat transfer. This was not acceptable either. The sponge thus awoke its long range sensors and started to sweep around for a more confortable place.
Not that far away it detected a zone of intense heat, much more powerful than the lukewarm liquid it had been bathing in for a while. Satisfied with this discovery, it rose and glided through the air. While approaching though, it realized the source was located way underground. So, as it landed, it gnawed away slowly a lot of cold matter – frittering away a lot of precious energy – before it could actually reach its promised victual. Again, it was deeply disappointed: the area, a chamber filled with molten rock, turned out to be measly. More lava was available, but so much deeper that it would have to expend a large amount of its inner resources to reach it; it even doubted that, after such a tough drill, it would still be powerful enough to tame the flow of thermal energy: its survival, at this stage, was problematic.
It was still pondering on this predicament when something unexpected happened: its energy sensing system locked on remote, but incredibly effulgent tiny objects, like points of infinite radiance. Incredulous, the sponge double-checked its feelings, but found nothing amiss: there were indeed enormous amount of energy within close range, in stark contrast with the paltry resources it was currently feeding on. Right away, it left its unsatisfactory place, and soared after what appeared to be the most yummy meal since it had eaten the last sun of its ancient galaxy.
But as it closed on its prey, the energy-packed dots began to drift away. Following them, the sponge veered and boosted its velocity; however its targets sped up too, remaining out of reach. Three times the sponge tried to catch up, and thrice the tiny objects slipped away from its grasp; what was supposed at first to be a simple catch was becoming a wild chase where both parties were now madly swirling around at an incredible pace when… four new shiny jewels popped up. The sponge skidded to a halt, now hesitating between the two equally tempting lunches. Its mad flight, involving both levitation and furious motion, had put a severe strain on its reserves, and it felt immensely hungry.
⁂
Twilight was a bit exhausted and peckish too. Flying with Rainbow Dash was never a cinch in the first place – except for the Wonderbolts, who could help but feeling crippled when winging with one of the most talented flyers Equestria had ever known? –, and having to hurtle through the skies had proven not only very risky but also physically hurting: she was experiencing twinges in all her body. Now, hopefully, the decoy had worked. As Celestia had predicted, the sponge had been lured by the formidable amount of magical power stored in the elemental stones. Now it was probably guzzling tons of fuel each second just to fend gravity off and maintain its huge mass floating above the ground; with each passing moment, it was becoming slightly weaker.
Carefully, she insured that her crown was still firmly standing on her forelock, while Rainbow Dash was checking her own harmony necklace. Facing her at about two hundred meters was that darn “thing”, now visibly smaller, but still impressive, like a giant bloated sphere, dark and rough, sometimes shaken by strange vibrations, as if it throbbed from inside. On the far side of it, Twilight’s balloon was carrying all the other wielders in its basket: Pinkie, Applejack, Rarity and Fluttershy – who had declined taking part in the aerial race because of her purported weak flying abilities.
All awaited a signal. The stillness was tense.
Ten seconds, twenty seconds had elapsed in a total immobility, when, in a bright flash, Celestia and Luna appeared above the sponge. “Now!” shouted Celestia. The two sisters crossed their horns and pure white rays descended from the joined apices down to each jewel which, in response to the signal, started to emit intense shafts of colored light aimed directly at the floating freak, whose shape disappeared under a dazzling glow.
Under the pressure, the sponge seemed to shrink. It began to pulse violently for a few seconds. All of a sudden, there was a roaring explosion and a fierce blow of scorching air blustered, shoving everypony out of place. The light beams immediately vanished.
Fighting a strong dizziness, Twilight reluctantly opened her eyes that she had reflexly shut when the hot air had blasted her. Nothing was to be seen anymore: the sponge had been destroyed, wiped into nothingness, as if it has never existed; nothing remained of that threatening being. A deep quietness reinforced strangeness of the scene. Then Celestia shouted merrily “I know we could do it. We’ve smashed it! Hurray!”.
With a profound relief, everypony started to chortle.
“Now I want everypony back to Canterlot to celebrate our victory!” Celestia cheerfully ordered.
And in a wink of an eye, they were all gone.
⁂
The sponge was still poising to decide on which appetizer it should pounce first, when it was thrashed by a enormous downpour of energy, unexpected and far beyond its ability to control. At first, it attempted to withstand the mighty influx, but it soon realized this was impossible either. So it carried out its only remaining option.
It was a matter of milliseconds to prepare its cells for the inevitable doom. When it knew its body was ready, it gave up fighting the overload. The rushing flow of power rived the molecular bonds that were gluing its cells together, releasing in turn more energy, building up a chain reaction, until all that remained were millions of microscopic motes, too tiny to be visible, that were blasted away by the resulting burst.
As they hurtled by, each of these innumerable smuts retracted and encrusted to form spores.
Spores that flitted blithely in the morning breeze, hankering after food.
