Aftersound

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Written by: Oneimare & Geka

Preread and edited by: Jay Tarrant, IAmApe, DuvetofReason

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Lunacy

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Sand rustled discontentedly as I shrugged off its coarse blanket. Rivulets of grit trickled from the places betwixt my plating, where the flesh of the desert had found its new home.

An endless sea of orange stretched away—my spell had brought me into the middle of nowhere. A stroke of phenomenal luck—teleporting without a concrete destination usually invited the worst kind of disaster; nor was I sure that trick would even work on my metal body.

Delight’s wings sprawled on the dirty soil like two great sheets of snow. Her chest rose and fell, sending swirls of dust away from her nostrils. Wire, half-submerged in the sand, weakly stirred. A mound of blackness turned her closest surroundings into fine silt to be carried away by a mellow breeze.

Flower lay absolutely still.

I rushed to her like a miniature sandstorm.

Before the purple aura of my vitals-checking spell descended upon her, my eyes had been already scanning her body for any injuries and found none, scratches and bruises notwithstanding.

Her heart barely stirred, her breaths came out shallow and irregular, yet no physical trauma could be held responsible for that.

Soft scrunching of stumbling hooves caused me to tear my gaze from the dying filly.

Wire limped to me, lame on her hind left leg; Trixie followed her like the shadow she was. Delight shook grit out of her mane and feathers; Rainbow unearthed herself and busied herself with the same, but for her armour.

“Is she alright?” the unicorn croaked.

“It’s a magic injury.” I knew a basic mending spell, I could even stitch a cut, not to mention providing first aid in non-arcane ways. “There’s nothing I can do.”

Trixie shook her head dejectedly as Wire stared at her in a silent question.

“That’s not how my magic works.”

A tear rolled from Wire’s remaining eye, but when she looked betwixt Trixie and me, it had as much pure hatred in it as pain. I knew what she would say, however she remained silent.

Ultimately it was my fault and this time I found it hard to disagree with her.

The vitriol in her gaze thickened when Rainbow approached us, Del in tow, and asked, impassionate, “A casualty?”

“She’s still alive and needs immediate help,” I snapped at her, joining Wire’s glare, although with less intensity.

“We’ve ended up a day’s march from the Badlands,” Rainbow levelly stated. “Princess Luna should be able to help her.”

“What if she won’t?” All of us exchanged worried glances, but I pressed on, “There’s another way and you know it.”

“The Crown can’t help her, even if they could send help.”

She held my gaze steadily and though her face resembled a stone mask, I almost imagined a glimpse of compassion in her dark eyes.

Saddlebags slipped from her shoulders and she passed rations and food to the girls who accepted them sullenly. The sight of the bags left there, empty, brought a question—were we even expected to return from this journey?

We had to finish it first, however. With the Sun painting the horizon in the pastel hues of the dawn, we would reach the ochre peaks of the crags circling the Badlands by nightfall.

Despite Rainbow trying to set the pace with her undaunted canter, Del and Wire kept falling behind—their wounds, hunger and lack of sleep treated them without mercy. Only Trixie shadowed us confidently—only relatively, of course; she had her own kind of burden dragging her down.

Delight’s rags, too torn to be used as clothing anyway, became a nest into which Flower’s comatose form was lowered—better than letting her bounce on my metal spine. Instead, I tailed her in the case her strength gave out or she stumbled on the treacherous sand; though that had yet to happen.

I once again checked on Flower’s condition—gradually diminishing, albeit slowly.

“You care about her…” Del murmured suddenly. “Why?”

Before I could even give a proper thought I bristled, snapping, “Why do you ask?”

The pegasus flinched and I internally reprimanded myself for reacting to her question like another accusation from Wire or Rainbow that implied I was only a machine. Externally, I lowered my voice.

“Flower is just a child and she has put a lot of effort into helping me.”

Del grimaced.

“But have you wondered why she does that?”

My silence became a reply on its own.

“Let me put it in other words,” she tried again, patient and kind. “Why do you think Tin Flower created you?”

Considering the criminal nature of that act and the dangers she went on—venturing almost into the heart of Canterlot and through the Tunnels, she must have had a very good reason.

Not for the sake of it nor for fun—Flower was too practical for that. She wasn’t friendless either—Wire cared for her like an older sister would, practically her fami—

Judging by Delight’s sigh, simultaneously relieved and sad, my expression betrayed my thoughts; she probably didn’t need either her talent or Moth skills to decipher it.

My eyes locked on the still form of the grimy filly slowly fading in betwixt Del’s wings, a filly who thought of herself as my daughter.

For all I knew, Twilight Sparkle had left no descendants and never thought of it, according to the memories I possessed. As a machine, I couldn’t fix that, unless I accepted Flower’s attention. Though it wouldn’t be a deciding factor, I couldn’t help but wonder if becoming a mother would make me less of the mare I was supposed to be.

Then my gaze shifted to Delight’s face, she met me with an unreadable expression, neutral at best—I had to decide for myself.

By night I would face an insane goddess, following the whim of a changeling queen ruling a city on the brink of a great calamity, whilst the filly in the question might not see the dawn.

The decision would have to wait until I got ourselves out of that fine mess.

Wire’s limp seemed to have worn off at first, but the crossing of the desert brought it back, if not with more intensity. However, she wasn’t the only one suffering from the aftermath of visiting Dodge City.

When I met Delight in the Tunnels, she looked rather beautiful.

Now dust and blood had almost robbed her of her original white colour; a red-stained shred of worn cloth wrapped around her left wing; her mane and tail, once smooth and silky, were a tangled mess with dirt and small pieces of rubbish clinging to it.

My scrutinizing examination didn’t go unnoticed.

“I may not be a Moth anymore, but I still don’t serve equinoids.”

“You’ve spent too much time with Flower—she’s rubbed off on you,” I wryly commented.

“Until she receives a bath it’s going to happen with everything within a hoof-length distance from her,” Delight retorted with a quiet yet hearty giggle that I couldn’t resist but share.

Of everyone I had met so far, I could call Delight my friend without a moment of hesitation. But would she be able to say the same? Not because of my nature—she seemed to understand it better than I, though respecting my desire to figure that out myself.

“This is probably not what you expected when you decided to accompany me, is it?” I mirthlessly remarked as another glance at her wounds echoed with a pang of guilt in me.

She beamed widely.

“It pretty much is. If I hadn’t met you, what’d my life have been? And look at me now. Yes, I’m beaten and bitten, I can’t remember the last time I took a shower or had a meal I can actually call a meal, and I may not understand everything that’s going on, but I’m in the company of Former Ones, outside Canterlot and about to see a Princess.”

We might not make it back alive, not to mention Chrysalis would be waiting for us if we did and all other kinds of difficulties to follow if we survived that as well. Yet Delight didn’t let that daunt her, because amidst all that hardship, a glimmer of hope—a choice I gifted her—shone brightly.

I smiled back at her.

Though Delight appeared to be in lifted spirits and steadily trotting forward, she was hiding tiredness behind it, and as such, I decided to conserve her little remaining strength by letting silence settle betwixt us.

The trudging across the infirm sands continued to aggravate Wire’s exhaustion. With her head hanging low and tail sweeping the hoofsteps left by unsteady legs, she forced herself forward. The poor filly didn’t even have enough energy left to bark at me when I offered her a ride on my back; however, she unsurprisingly refused it.

Feeling almost guilty for knowing no fatigue, I approached another member of our party who seemed to be the least bothered by the relentless march—the one who led it.

Rainbow paid me little attention when I finally managed to overcome the uncooperativeness of the ground and catch up with her; she also refused to repeat her feat of mercy from the last time and break the ice. Thankfully, it didn’t take me too long to figure out what to say.

“I suppose I should thank you for saving us in Dodge City.”

“You don’t sound very grateful.”

Sand scraped betwixt the plates of my muzzle as they formed a grimace.

“Hard to be grateful to somepony you can’t trust.”

The look she shot me bore nothing but curiosity.

“Who do you trust, then?”

“My friends.” I carefully watched for the change in her expression and pressed my lips together when none had occurred; irritation infused my voice. “And you? Do you trust your Queen?”

“She cares about ponies.”

My tone became a sneer. “Forgive me, but I find that very hard to believe.”

Rainbow gave me another look, a long stare—not a glare, to my surprise.

“Queen Chrysalis needs ponies to survive. She tends to us and wants to see our society prosper so her children can feed on love.”

Motioning my head at Delight, I retorted, “The only places in Canterlot that seem to prosper are brothels and even that is up for debate.”

Rainbow’s mask cracked as she frowned, grumbling, “I’m not going to argue that Canterlot is the loveliest place, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t trying.”

“Maybe it’s because we’re no more than livestock to her.” I let out a bitter mocking chuckle. “And you, her loyal herding dog—her favourite pet.”

“Don’t forget to thank the Queen for the order to deliver you to her in one piece,” Rainbow muttered through her teeth. However, she continued in a much calmer tone, even too chill, “Regardless of if you think of yourself as Twilight or a fancy calculator, you should be good with numbers.” Not giving me a chance to respond, she said, “Almost every screw in Canterlot has been recycled at least once, yet there was never a shortage of gems. Where do they come from?”

“The Crystal Empire.” I rolled my eyes. “Is that your idea of maths?”

“I can relate to the temptation to be snarky, but do try to use your brain, please.”

Glaring daggers at her, I did think.

Every prosthetic, every device—seemingly everything—in Canterlot relied on crystals to operate. Even with the Crystal Empire being exceedingly rich with minerals, the city needed a renewable source to maintain the steady supply of non-recyclable commodities.

“Rock farms.”

“Smart you are, but we lost that knowledge after the war. I’ll give you a hint—only the Crown knows about the Crystal Caves.”

Rainbow regarded me with a somewhat rueful look as I wracked my mind, thinking of any other possible sources of a nearly infinite amount of gemstones.

Finally, I gave up. “Amuse me then, egghead.”

If her muzzle showed any emotions, amusement wasn’t one of them.

“There once was a stallion, a brilliant mind. He came up with a genius technology—microcrystal clusters. However, he offed himself a year later...” Rainbow’s face twitched, barely able to conceal something intense. “When a researcher from the TCE found out that the somatic cells of crystal ponies can serve as microcrystals.”

My hooves dug into the sand to prevent my fall as I abruptly stopped. Rainbow made two dozen steps ahead before I managed to yank myself out of the stupor and catch up with her.

My jaws moved as I couldn’t choose what to say to her.

“And you sit in your ivory tower, doing nothing!” I spat at her. “If Chrysalis cared about ponies, she’d have liberated the Crystal Empire. It’d have made her a damn hero!”

The visor of Rainbow’s helmet fogged as a deep tired sigh escaped her lips.

“It’s Queen Chrysalis, by the way. And liberate it with who? I and a bunch of bug-ponies in arcanium cans are all the army the Crown has.” She screwed her muzzle. “Not like a few hundred thousand soldiers really helped the last time.”

I jabbed Rainbow’s armoured shoulder, to her sheer vexation.

“Those cybersuits won the war.”

“Don’t flatter yours—” She cleared her throat. “As much as I admire Twilight’s accomplishments, they’d have been worth nothing without Trixie stabbing Sombra in the back.”

I gave her a long look, unable to decide how to feel towards her, the changeling queen or the whole horrible situation.

Ultimately, I settled on, “Something has to be done.”

“Listen, I’d be the first to lead the siege—I haven’t finished it. But all I can do is to help Queen Chrysalis to prevent the TCE from turning Canterlot into another slaughterhouse.” She quietly, yet resolutely vowed, “Whatever it takes.”

Rainbow’s expression remained absolute in its conviction as I warily watched her grimly trot forward.

“It’s a slippery ground you tread on,” I softly noted.

“You of all should know how it is to gallop on the knife’s edge.”

Perplexed, I stared after her.

Delight caught up with me, silently shuffling by my side, letting me ruminate on the heavy words Rainbow shared with me. However, for all the occasional and not exactly accidental touching of her shoulder against mine, she kept shooting me the briefest of glances, checking if my spell of broodiness had passed.

Eventually, tired of figuring out how to redistribute the weight of atrocities on the scales of morality betwixt ponies and changelings, not to mention the other thing Rainbow had brought up again, I scrounged for the vestiges of positivity.

“Is something up, Del?”

Despite her initial impatience, the pegasus suddenly baulked at my question, frowning in apparent regret.

“There is something—” She cut herself short, then tried again. “I overheard you…” Seeing my raised eyebrow, Del hurried to correct her wording, “I couldn’t help but overhear you and Miss Dash talking…”

As she trailed off, out of words again, I tensed up.

“Who are the changelings?” came an unexpected blow.

Looking in Delight’s eye I knew—she’d connected the dots. Though I never doubted her wits and she never hid her uncanny perception, that pegasus possessed more insight than she let be known. If anything, I suspected her asking me for confirmation rather than for missing pieces.

My eyes found Rainbow despondently marching to the sharp cliffs growing near in the waxing darkness. She shared her suit of armour with Chrysalis in a sense—the bug queen would hear anything I said.

Even that aside, I suddenly discovered myself struggling to come up with anything that didn’t vilify that race—that habit ran too deep in the inherited heart full of blistering enmity.

“They’re equine insect-like shapeshifters who utilise love for sustenance and… other purposes,” I lamely finished, unsure of changeling biology—I knew very little about them, save for their misdeeds and… deeds.

Delight didn’t say anything, but whilst I kept staring straight ahead, her mismatched gaze bored into me with formidable intensity.

I relented, “The last time I encountered them, their ‘mother’, Queen Chrysalis, killed my mentor Princess Celestia. And as far as I know, she murdered at least one of my friends to infiltrate the Equestrian government under her guise.”

I mentally patted myself on my back for not snarling out that addendum.

“And I’ve been supporting them for all these years…” Delight’s hollow whisper barely rose above the whistle of the dry wind.

“You couldn’t have known,” I assured her. “And I’m unsure what to think of them anymore. If you didn’t catch that part—they keep Canterlot safe to some extent.”

By the time night’s veil descended upon the desert, the doubts about us being able to reach our destination began to creep into my mind.

The memory of Dodge City seemed to breathe at our backs with the malignant cold of cosmos; the apathetically twinkling stars observed our excruciating drudging across the last stretch betwixt us and the hungry gap in the mountain range that cut off the haunted desolation of the Badlands from the sands, cruel, yet welcoming in comparison.

Delight’s gait hadn’t lost its poise, but I began to get the distinct impression that with the next step, no matter how steady, she might fall and not rise; her wings drooped and were leaving two faint lines upon the dust. And that was even with two spells wrapped around Flower—weight alleviation and a vitals check; the latter suggesting no sunrise for the fading filly.

Wire rested on my back, twitching and whimpering in slumber, troubled by the pain from the festering eye wound. That concerned me as much as her instant compliance to my offer—an order, really—when she started to stumble and fall to her knees.

The precipitous mountains of the passage loomed above, but not as sentinels—a warning. If Flower hadn’t been dying, I would have turned back right then and there, or at least waited until the morning.

A sharp gasp cut the ominous silence.

“She knows!” Trixie stuttered.

When I caught up with her, I felt it—my hoof struck an invisible violin chord and its lament echoed across the forlornness of the valley.

The Moon and stars bathed the dead stone with cold silver light, denying the night’s tenebrous reign. Except for a single patch of pure blackness that rolled upon the ground like spilt ink, an ebony lighting intent on striking us.

Not giving my action a second thought, I pivoted only to find the passage betwixt the crags gone. My hoof struck it in disbelief and a solid mass of rock met metal.

Whipping back, I gazed into the abyss of the pitch-black tide.

Wire, disturbed by my sudden ministrations, slid from my back and tried to retreat, her eye wide; Delight had her rump pressing into the wall and her wings weakly outstretched in futile instinct; Rainbow took to the air, her cannons coming to life with a sinister hum; Trixie stood paralysed and oblivious to the mad thrashing of her stolen shadow as it tried to escape her body.

Like it happened in another life, in the land of eternal snow, the sea of darkness consumed everything in sight, offering only oblivion.

Amidst that blankness, a pair of narrow menacing eyes opened.

They belonged not to a pony, nor any living being. The night itself gazed at us, empty and dead, shining forth with the merciless hollow light of distant stars and an orphaned moon.

And that stare of void incarnate focused on me.

The stars returned, flaring one after another, in pairs—eyes, dozens of lifeless eyes. Enough to form a platoon of soldiers, I realised.

The darkness shifted—inside the silver pools of the night’s eyes a blemish appeared, the shadows leaked into it, and two vertical streaks of obsidian cut the unblinking gaze of death, becoming irises and expanding.

A barely recognisable voice, hollow and painfully loud boomed, surprised and displeased, splitting the air like a whip:

“Twilight Sparkle. What are you doing here?”

When Nightmare Moon came to being, she was an eclipse of the mind—reins of sanity lost to sorrow and rage given form. This… thing here spoke with terrifying lucidity; but how much of the Princess Luna that I knew of was left in it?

Her attention slid over the others, vertical pupils narrowing at Trixie; Delight fainted and I barely managed to catch her limp form and Flower; Wire met the penetrating regard defiantly, yet unable to stop her shaking.

“Rainbow Dash,” the voice said, puzzled; that tone quickly changed into annoyed urgency. “I presume the war is over. If that is all you wanted to tell me, then I must return to my search immediately, Equestria is still in peril.”

She didn’t know.

And we gave her no clue. Enchantments preserved Rainbow in her youth and my magical signature belonged to a mare who lived five centuries ago.

“P-princess Luna?” I called, dreading she answered that name no more.

“Yes, Twilight Sparkle,” she responded immediately, impatient, “what is it?”

I couldn’t meet her eyes and not because they reminded me of those that bored into me at the refracted ruins of Dodge City.

“It’s been more than five hundred years since your last visit to Canterlot.”

The pregnant pause seemed to last forever.

“Nonsense,” the vestige of Luna scoffed.

Yet as Rainbow, bearing a concerned expression, uneasily landed to stand by my side and we both answered her indignation with a sombre silence, the abyss wavered. In an eerie hurricane, the darkness dissipated.

A deep blue, almost black, lustreless coat clung, taut, to the alicorn’ skeleton. Armour of the blackest metal hung on her gaunt body like on a rack; on her side—a tarnished scabbard. Her mane, sheer, even more so against the marcid frame, billowed for lengths; a churning ink with muzzle outlines peeking out of it, glowing empty eyes glaring at us.

Neither Princess Luna nor Nightmare Moon—a living corpse of an alicorn—pointed her sharp horn at the sky and the ebony bone flared with a blinding shine that tore into the night until it reached the Moon itself.

The grotesque features of emaciated muzzle twitched and the grim restless determination rapidly melted into utter confusion and then—deep dismay. As suddenly as it came, the light died out and the alicorn became an unevenly breathing statue staring at the twinkling stars.

I took a step forward and her eyes with slitted irises so wide she almost looked like a pony saw me for what I was—an animated mechanical equine. And as I met that astonished look, I finally caught the glimpse of Luna in it, returning to that body in a frantic panic.

“I… failed…” she choked out. “I failed everypony…”

Doing my best to ignore the battle in my head—betwixt desire to comfort her and tell her in the detail what her deranged hunt had cost everypony—I gently floated Flower in front of shuddering Luna.

“We need your help—she needs your help.”

The alicorn’s attention went past the barely alive pony, sinister eyes helplessly twitching in the deep and dark eye sockets, trying to focus on reality and not quite succeeding. Finally, they caught sight of the pale and limp filly; in jerky, unsure motions, she came closer on stiff hooves that had forgotten how to move. I almost dropped Flower when Luna’s magic aura touched mine—horribly cold, hopefully only in the arcane sense.

Seemingly puzzled more by the intricate prosthetic than the overall condition, she asked, “What is wrong with her?”

Ignoring Luna’s lack of perception, I tried to explain, “She was attacked by… something. An abomination of arcanium and flesh from… somewhere else.”

Luna gave me a long look that unnerved me with its understanding, then her attention returned to the filly. A soft glow enveloped both her horn and Flower; the world lurched around me for the blink of an eye.

“Her entity, magic and physical body are properly connected to the Harmony now, but she needs rest for them to sing in unison again,” Luna said, carefully lowering Flower into the nest of rags on the ground. Her voice had lost its imperious quality, coming out quick and quiet, almost unintelligible, like she was talking to herself.

The majestic horn lit up again, and a wisp of soft light materialised above the filly, bathing her in the silvery light, pale yet radiating warmth.

She then commented, “I can tell the rest of your company needs my grace as well.”

Still struggling with control of her limbs, the midnight alicorn approached Wire who tried to revive the unconscious pegasus and her magic spread across the ravaged mare’s body. Delight came to life with a rasping gasp, her eyelids fluttering like a caught butterfly’s wings.

The moment Del regained her senses, she shrieked, backpedalling from Luna, slamming her back into the stone wall, hyperventilating.

My hooves embraced the pegasus, mostly to stop her from thrashing around rather than to placate, and I muttered in her ear, “She’s here to help.”

Though Delight stopped fighting me, she kept shaking, her round eyes locked on Luna; I watched her as well—the alicorn cringed away in shame and seemed to realise only now how disturbingly she looked; not to mention that her initial reaction was to thicken the darkness around herself and let her mane swell menacingly with shades.

When Luna turned to Wire, I opened my mouth to warn her about the nature of the filly’s wound, but the little unicorn beat me to it.

“I don’t need your help,” she all but hissed in disdain, taking a step back.

“Is it our appearance that scares you so, child?” Luna seemed to try and reduce the size of her mane, but failed miserably.

Did she slip into her old habit or did she mean her pronoun?

Still, she leaned over Wire, smiling fakely and hastily speaking, pleading, “Fear not, for—”

“You’ve been here all this time,” Wire said in a low shaking voice; a tear rolled from her eye. “When they blinded my mother. When they killed my father. When my brother was dying in my hooves.

“I was told that you were a goddess, a hero. But all I can see is just another monster.”

Wire’s words might as well have been slaps across the alicorn’s muzzle—Luna quivered, looking ready to collapse. For a moment an expression of pure rage overtook her ghastly features, but it dissipated as suddenly as it came, breaking down into a grimace of pain. Awkwardly failing to not choke with a sniffle, she pivoted and briskly trotted away, stumbling.

For a moment I thought of reprimanding Wire, but the filly couldn’t be blamed for anything but being awfully blunt. Not that I had a chance to even look at her—an insistent hoof violently yanked me away.

Rainbow dragged me across the stone with such intensity that sparks showered from where my metal body dug into the rock. Only at a considerable distance from the girls and even more from Luna, did I manage to wrest myself out of her vice-like grip and whip to face her.

“What are you do—”

In one disturbingly fast motion, Rainbow stuck her hoof in my mouth.

“Keep. Your. Voice. Down,” she hissed at me.

I slapped her limb out of my jaws and angrily whispered, “What is this all about?”

Despite her ‘enthusiasm’, Rainbow suddenly fell silent and I couldn’t help but be bothered by the sudden richness of emotions battling for dominance in her expression—clear fear one of them, second only to turmoil.

“We have to do something about her,” she finally said, almost as if for herself.

I nodded, “We need to tell her everything.”

“No!”

“Are we going to pretend nothing is wrong and take her to the Sky Palace?”

Rainbow’s barely regained composure became undone in an instant as she glowered at me.

“Of course not. But we need to be very careful—can you guarantee that Luna won’t snap, leave us here to die and go straight to Canterlot to..?” she trailed off, warily glancing at the alicorn.

“Maybe it’d be for the best? You can’t hide it, Rainbow—you hate her as much as I do, if not more.”

At any other time, it would have been quite amusing to witness Rainbow’s eyes bulge out in sheer disbelief.

“Without her, the Crown is going to cease to be and do I need to tell you again what would happen?” she spat. “We didn’t come here for Luna to let her fuck up everything!”

“Then why are we here?”

“I don’t know!” Rainbow’s voice broke. “Even now I get no transmissions, I’ve gotten no orders for the entire mission.”

I pressed my lips together.

“Luna is going to learn everything one way or another. If you’re worried about the status quo so much, you should tell her.”

Rainbow hesitated, grimacing in wrath, though it didn’t seem to be directed at me.

“You’ll do it.”

The question died on my lips as I figured out the answer myself, my muzzle scrunching in distaste.

“Because I’m an expandable machine, isn’t it?”

To her credit, a glimpse of shame appeared in her rosy eyes. However, her expression managed to turn into the trademark mask of grim determination.

“No, you just said why I can’t do it.” She paused, letting her words sink in. “And because you’re not Twilight Sparkle.”

I glared daggers at her, ready to return to that topic, but she shut my protest down with a suddenly haunted look.

“Listen, I don’t know what to call you but I know you should be able to see things for what they are and understand that if she becomes a threat, I will have to kill her.”

Author's Note

Special thanks to Jay Tarrant.

I hope you've enjoyed reading this story so far.

If you notice any mistakes sneaked in through the editing, let me know.

Stay awesome.