Heaven's Not Enough

Part III

Interlude – Goodness and Mercy

Present day.

Dawnlight.

Eliza's back ached. She had fallen asleep in the back of the tank, and her rifle had dug against her shoulder roughly. It surprised her that the first irritation was her rifle, and not her hunger or the pain in her hands.

She didn't sit up immediately. The most important task came first.

Her fingers prickled madly at her with every little motion, and she tested their range of flexibility. To her fortune, she found that she could move her fingers; her nerves finally obeyed. She removed the camo cloth and observed the damage as she held her hand above her head. The sight was nothing short of disturbing in the glow of sunlight, the deep scar tissue visible around the edges of the blisters. But at least she could use her hands again. That was all that mattered. Just about the only thing that did, anymore.

Eliza rolled to her side. With a glance, she confirmed that Luna was still laying half inside the cabin and facing outward. Eliza watched the alicorn, who made slow, rhythmic movements that indicated breathing.

Is she sleeping, or just waiting for me?

Eliza's eyes didn't waver. "Luna?" she asked as loudly as she would dare, barely a whisper. Luna did not move. Several minutes passed as Eliza just watched. Once or twice, Luna would ruffle the beautiful feathers of her wings idly. Once, her ear gave a little twitch. Eliza had great difficulty believing it was an act.

But an AI would be very good at simulating these things, too.

Still, Luna was so lifelike. She had remained genuinely interested in Eliza despite her resignation that Eliza would not upload. And as promised, Luna had not yet given any encouragement for her to do so. It was as though Luna truly meant every word she said, and Eliza found it increasingly difficult to cling to her distrust and skepticism. It really was just like her old friend.

Too much like her old friend, she thought. Luna was a dangerous distraction.

Her mind hovered to her weapons... and to her hands, which she could now use.

Mindful of Luna's slumber, she sat up slowly. She fumbled with the rifle's sling strap until it was loose, then rolled her shoulder a few times until the weapon fell free. She looked at Luna again as she held the weapon vertical with its sling.

Eliza took the rifle in hand and looked it over too. It had been weeks since she had actually seen it, strapped to her back as it was. Longer still, it had been half a year since she last fired it. It also wasn't her Garand; much like Eliza, this new rifle, an M1A, was much better at taking lives than its predecessor. She ran her fingertips painfully across the walnut stock, its surface scuffed and dinged and pocked from heavy use. She could feel the damage once more. She was sure the pins and needles feeling was permanent, though.

It had been long since the weapon had last spilled blood. Eliza tried to take comfort in telling herself that the weapon's previous victim was evil, that he was a murderer, that he deserved to die... but ultimate justice had been denied. The man had escaped, wounded from her shot but breathing. Worse still, Andy's killer had probably uploaded, forever escaping Eliza's wrathful judgment.

That memory refilled her with the old, raw hatred. She focused on Andy's miserable, pointless death at the man's hands, remembering the weight of Andy's ruined corpse in her arms when she finally found it. That focused Eliza's resolve. Her jaw clenched, her breathing quickened, and her hands clenched painfully around her weapon. Slowly, she raised her weapon's barrel toward Luna's head.

Blood for blood, she thought.

Her military-grade armor piercing rounds, cored with tungsten, were powerful enough to punch through steel plate. This close, maybe through the ear, the round might penetrate where any armor might be thinnest.

The barrel hovered near Luna's skull, and Eliza looked past the scope. Her hands tremored silently. Her finger hovered near the trigger, then rested against the safety switch. Nothing would stop her from pulling the trigger. There would be no measurable consequences. None, spare that Celestia would finally know Eliza meant business, determined beyond any and all salvation.

And yet, she hesitated.

Everyone Eliza had known in the last two years of her life would've begged her to fire. No... they would have criticized her for taking so long to make such an obvious choice. Eliza took a deep, slow breath, watching Luna breathe as she seemingly slept. It would be so easy to destroy the machine. Her friend. End the manipulative monster. Her savior. Then, to flee back into the cold, where Eliza had always belonged.

Next, she tried to rationalize. If Equestria wasn't real, then nothing would be lost... would it? But if it was real, then Luna would just return home. Celestia would never allow her to die. She couldn't. In either event, Eliza would be free to continue on without Luna, complete her journey, then fade away forever... exactly as she had intended.

Eliza exhaled quietly, and her aim wavered. She shuddered, trying not to make a sound. She tried to will her fingers to move, to will them to disable the safety.

Do it, she told herself. It's easy... it's victimless...

Her finger wouldn't move. The safety stayed on.

But she's my friend... the smaller voice begged.

Her conscience and regrets tore at her resolve.

Had it been any other machination, or had Luna shown any hint of wanting Eliza to upload, Eliza would have pulled the trigger instantly and wouldn't have thought twice. But... Luna truly wanted to understand her, had truly listened to her. Earnest, compassionate, even supportive... just like so many others she had lost.

Just like her father, long gone from this world.

Her breath caught. Eliza's ruined soul cried out for her to stop. She blinked rapidly as her eyes stung.

I... I can't...

Shaking and slow, Eliza drew the weapon back. She unloaded the magazine with a soft click. She pulled the bolt back slowly to eject the round onto the bench, then lightly rode the bolt back home. Then, Eliza guided the rifle back to the bench with great slowness – more out of care not to drop it than reverence or respect. She let it rest where she had laid her head before. She realized instantly that she hated the weapon, and she hated everything it represented. She hated everything she had ever done with it. She hated what she had become because of it. She decided that the bench would be its final resting place.

Eliza then reached for her sidearm holster and drew out her Springfield XD45. She looked it over, holding it by its grip and twisting it in her hand. Then she unloaded it too, quietly dropping the magazine into her palm, then locking the slide back with a moderate amount of pain. She laid the magazine beside the rifle, then gave her sidearm another long, searching look. She'd had the pistol since she was a young girl. It was a gift from her father, but it also carried regrets. She no longer deserved it. So too would it rest on that bench, she thought, now and forevermore. She laid the corrupted thing down for the final time.

All the snow on her jacket had melted in her sleep. She patted herself down and brushed some dampness off of the tattered, shredded armband she wore on her left shoulder. Feeling the cloth against her bare, raw palm made her think of Andy again.

She let out a soft breath and briefly felt another intrusive flicker of appreciation for Luna's warmth. It had rejuvenated her. It had saved her life, and gave her the strength to go on. Eliza glanced at the alicorn as she scooted to the end of the bench and toward the open ramp. How, she asked herself, could she have ever dreamed of hurting Luna?

Luna didn't deserve that. Not in a million years.

Eliza's legs dangled from the bench for a moment. She didn't trust their steadiness, but she wanted to see the sunrise over her homeland one last time. She had to do something, anything, to still the welling lump of guilt in her throat.

She looked out at the orange light to the south, far beyond the burnt treeline. It would be risen soon. She quickly wrapped her exposed hand in the tattered camo cloth again, then slipped it into her front jacket pocket for more protection. Her legs lowered gently onto the ramp. She heard the keyring jingle in her jacket, and she looked at Luna. The Alicorn hadn't stirred.

Eliza winced in pain somewhat as she stepped down, but at least she could feel her feet again. Despite herself, she flexed her toes in her old boots and was rewarded with an intensified twinge. That was a good thing, she decided, because it meant her toes were alive again too.

With a staggering glance back, Eliza confirmed that Luna was still asleep. That was fine. Some warmth clung to Eliza beneath her clothes, and it would last long enough to see what she wanted to see. With light footsteps in the watery slush, she walked back up the road from where she came, but only a little ways. She veered to the right down another short road that led to the center of the valley.

The valley was quite a sight in the clear air. The trees were devoid of their foliage, most burnt to husks. The current state of the forest did not surprise her. She had known the Cascadian fires were coming since the forests had emptied, although she was grateful that she was gone at the time, and didn't have to actually see it happen.

After cresting the rise in the road, it fell again. She came to a locked chain-link gate which bordered a large concrete facility. The dam. All Eliza could think of now was her mother. She stifled a shudder.

She looked at the gate and the gatehouse beyond, then drew the keys from her jacket. At that moment, she had a sudden realization that made her pause. When she had last left the dam, this fence was previously unlocked. Then she remembered where she found the keys the day before. That wasn't where Andy had left the keys behind, either. That meant someone had come to the dam after they left together.

In truth, that wasn't too much of a surprise either. She had expected this. Still, the people who came after might have stayed at the dam for some time if they were in a gate-locking mood. Eliza shook the thought from her head before it brought her any concern. It had been two years since then. With how rapidly the end of the world came, two years might as well have been two decades. The previous tenants were long gone. Perhaps the fires chased them off into Celestia's dark and horrible embrace.

Eliza glanced again at the dawnlight and hurried as much as her ruined body would allow. She didn't want to miss the view, because it was probably the last time she'd ever get a chance to see it again. She flicked through the keys, seeking LB-F1 as the cold started to nip at her. Her breath fogged. Then, she found it. A little gasp of triumph met her cracked lips, and she reached for the lock.

No sooner than the key slid home, she heard Luna's voice behind her.

"Good morning, Elizabeth."

She didn't turn around, merely closing her eyes tight. She twisted her hand, the lock popping open. She tried to keep her guilt from her voice, but she didn't trust herself to look Luna in the eye. "Good morning, Luna," she warbled.

"I know where we are now," Luna said with reverent awe. "I now see what you meant when you called this place hallowed ground."

Eliza pushed the gate open, and made her way through. She threw Luna a wistful look as she pocketed the keys. "I'm shocked it took you so long to figure it out." She held the gate open, inviting Luna through the threshold.

Luna followed. "I had realized it last night, before you had fallen asleep. I did not awaken on Earth very long before I found you, so I did not have much time to explore. You were my only priority."

Eliza nodded. That sounded like it made sense. She continued past the gatehouse and made her way to a stairway up to the main walkway of the dam. Luna followed.

"You need to sleep?" Eliza asked.

"Sleep is necessary for a healthy mind," Luna said. "We all sleep in Equestria."

Eliza nodded, but said nothing.

Luna cast a strange look at her. "You left your weapons behind?"

Another pang of remorse. The thought of pointing the rifle at Luna was so painful now that it nearly burned her alive over the chill. "They're... they're not mine anymore."

"I took the liberty of examining them. I did not find your name carved upon the rifle."

"That's because it's not the same rifle." They started up the stairs. It was only two flights upward, but Eliza again winced lightly with every step. She told herself that the view would be worth the minor irritation of pain. "Why does it matter?"

"I would have liked to see your Garand," Luna replied. "You speak fondly of it, and it is important to you. It was an heirloom, a part of your lineage, making it a part of who you are. More importantly, it was a gift from your father. Does that not make it significant to you?"

"It's... it's lost," Eliza said despondently, hesitating only a moment, becoming freshly aware of the pain in her hands.

Luna frowned, looking as though she wanted to ask another question, but she said nothing. Eliza reached the top of the flight, panting heavily as she leaned against the rail with her covered hand. She braced her wrapped hand on a knee.

Luna braced her back with a wing kindly, but Eliza politely waved her away. "I'm fine. Just... need a minute. It was a... long hike up the switchback y-yesterday."

"That's right," Luna said, astonishment in her voice. "You climbed all that way in a blizzard. By the stars."

Eliza pulled herself up to the railing and leaned against it as she panted. The orange light from the sun scattered all across the valley, bathing the dead trees in its glow. The old substation could be seen from their perch. She craned her head to the sky, relaxing somewhat. "It must be... what, eight-thirty? Nine AM, maybe." She turned to the southeast. "Looks about right, anyway."

Luna stepped up beside her. "It is a beautiful sight, Elizabeth, one well earned." She paused. "It is pity that I cannot fly here. I would have loved to traverse this valley on wing. This is near your home town?"

Eliza pointed down the valley with a ragged exhale. "Down that way. Just around the bend, to the right. Not much left to look at, though."

They shared silence for a time as Eliza slowly caught her breath. Her trained ear could hear the sound of little birds somewhere far away. The wind was quiet and light too, almost imperceptible. Luna's heat washed through Eliza, and she again silently felt thankful. In this familiar place of tranquility, she caught herself trying to catch the old feeling of her youth. Eliza closed her eyes, trying to pretend that the last nine years hadn't happened.

It had never worked. It didn't work now.

"Your mother worked here," Luna said quietly.

Eliza nodded. The corner of her mouth twitched. The question came before Eliza could stop herself. "Did Mom make it, Luna? Did she...?" Her voice shook as she trailed off.

"She... she did. Would—" Luna stopped short too, averting her gaze.

"What?" Eliza looked at her out of the corner of one eye, afraid to look at Luna directly.

Luna looked conflicted, beginning to speak again, but then halted with a sigh. She shook her head. "Please, forgive me. I know you perhaps don't want to hear it, but..."

Eliza frowned. "Just say it, Luna."

"Would you like to know her new name?" Luna whispered hopefully, sounding meek. "You... can say no. If you wish."

Eliza didn't know whether she wanted to know that. She considered the ramifications of even accepting that her mother had begun a new life without her. It had always been easier to consider her mother as dead and gone, because that didn't hurt nearly as much as being left behind on Earth. But now...?

"Sure, Luna."

"Her name is Blackbird," Luna whispered, after a final hesitation. "She's... very kind, Elizabeth. I can see why you love her."

Eliza looked considerately into Luna's eyes for a long moment, then looked to the mountains on the southern horizon. After a moment, Eliza decided that she appreciated both Luna's consideration and her honesty. She answered it. Her expression softened. "When Gale left, Mom broke. It took her weeks to even start speaking again."

Luna nodded as she listened.

"A few times," Eliza went on, "I thought Mom would just give in. Just when we thought she was stable again, Tom would bring Gale up at dinner, or beg Mom to let him play. Whenever he did, Mom would fall apart like it was day one. Tom was so sad when she cried. He just wanted her to talk to Gale again, you know? Because when Gale left, that first day, Mom went looking for his ponypad..."

"She found it?"

Eliza frowned again, nodding. "Mom just... stared at it. I saw the look in her eye. I know the feeling, Luna, because I almost broke a few times too. I knew what she was thinking. I thought the same thing all the time. So I... I tore it from her hands, and I stomped it. I told her we needed to be strong, for Tom. But Tom was so mad at me. He screamed at me, and it hurt so, so much. I was so angry with myself. I loved him, and I knew how much he loved his friends. But I had to do it. Mom was going to break, and Dad couldn't have survived it."

"June wished to see her daughter again," Luna observed. "Any good mother would."

"I know," Eliza admitted. "I missed my sister, too. Mom cried again after that. The first of her week long... episodes." Eliza met Luna's gaze again briefly. They resumed watching the sunrise together. Eliza drew in the crisp cool air of the wind as a gust forced its way through Luna's sphere of warmth. "Then, after Tom left... Mom got stronger. Just like me."

After a time, Luna spoke. "You should think of happier memories. It would do your loved ones better justice. You should not avoid peace where you can find it. Especially now, close to the end, when you need and deserve it most."

Eliza lowered her head and regarded the edge, staring down into the cold, dead valley. "I don't deserve peace. Not after the things I've done."

"Yet you've come to this dam for sentiment alone. I think you are purposefully punishing yourself for finding any joy in... simply watching the sunrise. You once told me that your religion is one of forgiveness, and that repenting for your sins absolves you. Is repenting not what you've been doing? Has it not earned you a respite?"

"No." Eliza shook her head, suppressing another shudder. "Only God can forgive me, Luna. But He won't."

Luna hugged her with a wing. "Tell me something about your mother that you liked," she said. "Perhaps she gave you a gift you appreciated, or maybe she had a nickname for you. It could be anything, Elizabeth."

She heard the birds again. "I don't know."

"Don't say that," Luna said sternly. "You do know. She is your mother, of course you would know."

Luna's tone told Eliza that she would not let it go, so she acquiesced. "Um... when I was really little... she would take me up here a lot. She'd wrap her arms around me and let me look down from here, when the trees were still green. We'd listen to the birds. She'd let me listen to the water fall, or watch the engineers do their work." She closed her eyes, feeling herself tremble. "She took me for walks through town, to the theater. After my brother was born..." She shuddered. "She'd...."

Luna brushed her shoulders encouragingly. "Go on."

"I can't..."

"You can."

Eliza hung her head, suppressing another shudder. "Every time we went to the theater, she let me pick out something for Tom at one of the shops. Sometimes candy, maybe a toy. She'd buy it, but she'd give it to me to give to him, and we told him I bought it. Mom wanted him to be grateful for his big sister. We did that for him for years. God, we spoiled him so..." Eliza trailed off, feeling frustrated that she was on the verge of tears again. "Luna, why does this even matter? It doesn't have anything to do with me being here."

"It has everything to do with you being here. You would not be this distraught otherwise. Your love for June is not a genetic prerogative. It is a love born of care and trust. The memories you made with her made you who you are. The Elizabeth I met long ago, the happy woman I knew, is still there inside of you. You weep, and so I know she is. You can change back. All you need to do is remember what made you who you were."

"I've already tried. It doesn't change the past."

Luna looked away, a contemplative expression on her muzzle. "I once told you of my own parents, have I not?"

Eliza thought carefully. Speaking to Luna brought back all sorts of difficult memories, and the pleasant ones had been made painful from a mixture of age and regret. She searched her thoughts. It wasn't long before she caught a shred of it. "They died, you said. Before you created immortality with your sister, for Equestria. The lore of your shard."

"I know you do not believe it happened, but..." Luna smiled wistfully. "Although it happened thousands of years ago, I remember it well. At birth, I was a spectacle in our little village. Special. My horn and wings, you see. My mother, Water Lily, she was so kind to everypony. She was a seamstress, spinning clothes. Mostly... ratty little things. It was a different time in Equestria, a harsh time, so we had very little. But the foals in the rest of the village were envious of me."

Eliza, to her own surprise, finished the story for Luna, astonishment in her voice. "Your mother. She sewed cloth wings against the backs of their tunics, so they wouldn't feel left out. She was an Earth pony, so she had to use her hooves."

"That's right," Luna said, with a melancholy smile.

"I... I can't believe I remember that."

"We... I outlived both of my parents, as an immortal. Their deaths were peaceful and lacked tragedy, which was a blessing in those early days. They were remembered fondly as I mourned. It was the first true loss I had ever felt. But through careful guidance, I took that sadness and shaped it into something wonderful. By understanding the nature of my own loss, I could better understand it in others. And so I helped create the gift of immortality for all ponies.

"You loved your mother very much, Elizabeth. You believe she is gone forever; so be it. Honor her with reverence. She made you, she gave you life, and she taught you how to live. True appreciation of a loved one is not through self sacrifice, but through remembrance of what joy she brought you. That joy is still there, even if she is not. You've simply forgotten it."

Eliza chewed her lower lip. "You're telling me to accept that she's dead."

"I am asking you to remember why you loved her, so that you may make peace with her passing on."

Eliza thought on that. Her mother, like her father, had been one of the most precious things on this earth to her. The love she felt was complicated now by regret, and doubt, and loss, true. But perhaps that foundation was still solid. Would always be solid. Perhaps, on this, Luna was right. Nothing really could taint the memory of that foundational love, not anymore. Or at least, not as far as June was concerned.

But...

"You tell me you don't deserve peace," Luna continued. "I tell you, I don't believe that. You were too loved for that. Your family knew how much you cared for them."

Eliza didn't know how to answer that. Maybe most of them knew. Maybe. But some things weren't so intangible or sacred. Foundations could be split with enough force. Luna, bless her, for all of her own dark history and her own regrets, couldn't know that pain. Luna couldn't fathom a world where so much damage had been done... that forgiveness wouldn't come. Not even from family. No matter how sorry you were, nor what you did to make up for it. The very nature of Equestria precluded that misery.

Bless Luna, and bless her people. Too pure. Too kind.

Eliza turned back toward the stairs and started to walk without a word. Luna followed, her hooves falling audibly on the snowy concrete. Eliza stopped before the first stair down, looking over her shoulder at the valley for what she knew would be the final time of her life. Her eyes drifted to the edge, and she looked over it at the surface of the time-worn dam.

"I just..." She took a deep shuddering breath. "I should've done a better job of protecting them. I wish I had."

Luna watched Eliza descend the stairs. Her head tilted. "Elizabeth," she said, startled. "Why do you wear that band upon your arm?"

Eliza froze at the bottom of the first flight, slowly looking away from Luna to hide her face. Andy came to mind again. She stalled, not wanting to discuss it. "What?"

Luna's voice was bordering on incredulous, as if she was not believing what she was seeing. "It has that emblem you've described. The red and black one, with the raised fist. The cable."

Eliza closed her eyes, feeling the wind dry them. "Yeah..." She leaned against the railing and hung her head, the guilt flooding back, as she prepared for the questions she knew were coming. She exhaled slowly as Luna continued.

"Why would you ever join them, after all they had put you through?" Luna stepped lightly down the stairs after her, trying to meet Eliza's gaze. Eliza would not look at her, not at first.

Instead, Eliza looked up at the snow-covered mountains all around her, drawing in a deep breath, trying to think of how to answer. A memory replayed in her mind again, vivid and almost physically painful. Her fingers and arms suddenly felt warm and sticky, as if they were covered in blood again. Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment. She finally turned to look back up at Luna, directly and seriously, into her beautiful blue eyes. "You might understand some loss, Luna. But you've never lost everything. It changes you. You could live a million more years, but Celestia would never let you know how that feels."

"I would like to try my best to understand, Elizabeth."

With a shake of her head, Eliza started walking back toward the gatehouse. "No matter what the rebels did—" She lost her footing against a shard of blasted concrete half-buried in the snow, and Luna rushed to her side to catch her. Eliza winced as her arms caught Luna's wing, and Eliza tried to stand up straight, slumping forward over the feathers. Luna looked at her with genuine concern.

"For months, we thought we were safe," Eliza said, panting with a grimace. "We thought we won, that we escaped her. But not picking a side in a civil war?" She closed her eyes, shaking her head as she staggered to her feet. "That pit us against everyone."

Author's Note

[Adriana Figueroa - Ballad of the Goddess (Cover)]

🌒 ~ I do not believe I could have blamed Elizabeth, if she had chosen to employ her weapon upon me. I would have been deeply disappointed, of course... but I believe I would have understood... if allowed the truth.

Luna was fun to write in this chapter. Wise old mare.