The Ignition Spark

PROLOGUE

The Goddesses are dead.

That was the rallying cry of the rising anti-Alicorn sentiment among the Equestrian population. New cults and religions had sprung up in the wake of Princess Twilight’s ascension ten years prior. With the new age of enlightenment, godhood was coming closer and closer to the average pony’s reach. So why have a select few deemed “worthy” enough to rule over all?

That wasn’t the complete phrase. Most of the cults and religions shortened it.

But tonight, that ended. For their goals were finally coming to fruition.

Deicide.

The Goddesses are dead and it was we who killed them.

It was the sound that Princess Celestia hated the most: the sound of the doors to the throne room slamming open, the frantic trot of a guard galloping in, the rustling of all heads in the room turning to face the entrance.

“M-my Princess!” the guard shouted down the room as he galloped along the crimson carpet. “I apologize for intruding on you like this, but…”

Celestia simply raised an eyebrow at the guard’s hesitant pause.

“A threat has been made against our fair city of Canterlot.” The guard’s horn lit up a vivid blue, his magical grip holding a folder by his side, which he soon opened up. In it, a written note, along with six grainy, black-and-white photographs.

Dear Princess Celestia,

What an honor it is to write to you on this wonderful day, the tenth anniversary of the Elements’ rediscovery and the defeat of Nightmare Moon. I regret to inform you, however, that any celebrations you may host will have to be cut short.

I shall cut straight to the point: I have taken your sister, and planted six explosive devices around Canterlot, and, if you do not comply with my demands, your lovely city will be destroyed.

My wishes are as follows:

To gain access to any tomes concerning the forbidden arts of “science.”

To be allowed into the inner circle of the Canterlot Elite.

And, of course, apotheosis -- to be made a God of the forbidden arts.

I do hope you will consider my request.

Yours,

Master Mind

“As you can see,” the guard said, “this is a matter of great importance. What are we to do, my Princess?”

Celestia’s eyes grew wider as she read over the note. “Of course, we will not follow his requests,” she said determinedly, glaring at the piece of parchment on which the letter was so lovingly inscribed. “There is no proof that this is a genuine threat.”

“On the contrary, my Princess…”

Using his magic to take the photographs out of the folder, the guard carefully laid them out on the floor, as if they each were as dangerous as that which they portrayed.

“I think you’ll find this proof enough.”

Celestia looked over them, her eyes wide.

Six bombs, each displaying a glowing number which she could only assume was a countdown. One of which was strapped to an innocent, terrified pony, bound and gagged, her wings tied and horn magically sealed. Luna!

“But magical explosions don't cause excessive damage!”

“That's just the thing, Princess,” the guard said solemnly, lifting his helmet off. “This isn't magic we're dealing with.”

She knew instantly what that must mean. With burning fury, she commanded her guards to find somepony she hadn't spoken to in years.

Her old student, Twilight Sparkle.