"Dust. Always with the dust."
I brush my hoof against the ground, and when it leaves, a trail of fine grey powder follows after it. Golden light filters through paned windows, hitting the checkered floor. Shadows dance and a hollow hoofstep rings in my ear.
I can't do this I can't do this anymore it's too many times I can't-
"Always wondered what was with the dust." A stuffy smell of burnt lilac permeates, and I take a few steps out of the shadows. Unlike hers, my hoofsteps are silent. Foreboding dread screams in the heavy tension. There is general air of nostalgia and anticipation. A sudden movement from her causes my eyes to flick to my opponent.
Her stare terrifies me. It's so blank, so red, so hollow...
"So...do you just...like the dust?"
She tilts her head, a lock of pink hair drifting across her face like she does when she is embarrassed. I remember teasing her about it, and her ducking behind it to hide from the chuckles she got. She was a friend. She would smile and explain it happened when she felt shy.
She is not feeling shy.
She takes a few steps forward, and all her movements are mechanical and robotic, and the hope of any enquinity left in her, extinguishes. Her smile is so eerie and unlike her, but there maybe a piece of her, old Fluttershy, still left. That piece is buried deep, shying away from the harsh truth, disconnecting from reality, away from the sins she had committed.
It's a pity I do not have the time and patience to dig for her.
~~*~~
"There! I think I've captured my graceful splendour at last!" Celestia announced, scrutinising her work of art. The white snow pony did remarkably look like the mare, except lacking her flowing rainbow of hues. And it was also taller, displaying an aura of over exaggerated serene majesty. "What do you think, Sister?"
"..." There was no reply.
"Luna?"
The white alicorn stopped her admiration of the sculpted snow, dusting white flakes off her alabaster coat. At the silence that met her question, she turned around to look at her Sister. "What, no witty remark?"
The blue mare was was slumped, face first into a pile of snow. Her starry mane was flat and dull. The snow pile, that had been a work in progress since Celestia started building her sculpture, remained incomplete, and it was evident by the fatigued attitude which Luna bore, that she had no intention of finishing it. Celestia scowled at this, readjusting a pink scarf wrapped around her, scolding her sister lightly.
"Awww...come on! You didn't even try!" She huffed.
Hearing her sister moan, hidden by her mane, Celestia panicked. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean that! I do think that you're improving, you just..."
"Its okay. Forget about it." Luna feigned a smile, not quite meeting her sister's eyes, but blinked in her direction. Doesn't matter anyway. Not a million snow piles can change anything. Reset after reset after reset...
"No, but I really do think you're getting better!" Celestia smiled brightly, skipping to her sister and patting the snow. I'm going to miss you.
"Look, the shape is more symmetrical than before!"
I already lost count the number of times it's happened.
"Maybe, if I-" Celestia peered at her sister, who remained unresponsive. "Uhhh...Lulu...you aren't mad, are you?"
Luna snapped to, smiling. "Of course not! I don't even care!" She shook her head, stomping on the snow pile. "It doesn't matter. Let's get back, so you can get ready to capture the Pegasus we need." She climbed to her hooves, starting to walk off. Her sister gave her snow alicorn a mournful look, tailing behind Luna reluctantly.
"I really do think that it was one of your better snow piles." She stated.
Luna glanced at it, but her blue eyes stared through it, darkening, a fiery haze starting to drip from her left eye. The remains of the snow pile melted under her smouldering glare, blue magic leaking in sparks from her horn.
She had seen it all. She had memorised it.
First, her Sister would pretend to battle, trying to get the Pegasus to surrender. Then seeing her efforts in vain, she would foolishly null her fighting, hoping the pegasus would get the signal. Then she would outright stop. Then plead and beg, not wanting to harm the Pegasus. Then she would smile, reaching out her hoof to hug the silent Pegasus.
Then she would die.
Her amethyst eyes would go wide in surprise, eyelashes fluttering. Her mouth would curve into an 'o' of shock, as her eyes closed, as they dimmed rapidly. Then her legs would go weak, her back limbs giving out first, and the world would freeze. Her torso would slowly crash into the red stained snow, graceful even in death.
By the time her head reached the ground, there was nothing left of her body.
And the pale scarf she usually wore would droop and seem paler than ever, coated in a film of thick, white dust. Then the dust would catch the wind and swirl away, floating through the flurry of rising snow, disappearing into the blizzard.
The Pegasus would already be gone by the time Luna stopped being shocked. No matter how many times she watched it, she always felt strangely disconnected when she saw her sister, the only one to believe in her for a thousand moons, the only pony Luna truly felt a steadfast, unwavering connection to. Gone. The realisation hit her at the force of a speeding train, the pain from the impact drowning everything else.
Then Luna would collapse, too. And the scarf would flap in the wind, and Luna's horn would light on instinct, grabbing it and bringing it to her, a smell of lavender washing over her like a tidal wave. It was her smell. Leftover dust drifted to the wind.
And she would scream. Luna would scream. Her voice would be muffled in the blizzard, and she felt sharp icy jabs of agony pierce her over and over again. She would cry. Tears would freeze on her cheek, and Luna would howl with the wind.
And she always did the same thing.
Over and over. Every time it happened.
~~*~~
The coloured hues of light filling the endless hallway flickers to grey, in time with with the shadows, reaching out to swallow me. Their malevolent texture and feeling that I used to hate just felt like home now. They make quick work, and I ignore the throbs of pain their consumption delivers.
When they retreat back to the corners, I stand tall, hissing at the Pegasus who did not cower as she should. She merely acknowledged my new appearance, giving a mechanical head tilt.
I stomped the ground, shattering the tiles, roaring a challenge.
My eyes darkened to black, but my left pupil came to life. It flamed with vengeance, and the startling blueness of it standing out in contrast to the monochrome hallway.
I speak, my voice deeper than before, the sound rebounding off the greyscale walls and echoing.
"Prepare thyself for a bad time, twisted Sister murderer."
Author's Note
You do not need to know the undertale franchise, but if you do, you would know that a 'reset' is when a person shifts the timeline, "respawning" back at a "save" point, but with everyone not aware of the reset, except for a few.
