Dividing Infinity

by Coyote de La Mancha

Rating: teen
Tags: Profanity, Violence, Death, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, My Little Pony Comic, Mystery, Science Fiction, Suicide / Self Harm
Length: 11025

When Cadence destroys the Crystal Palace, Queen Twilight must find out why... before her world tears itself apart.

With the help of The Apparatus, Queen Twilight Sparkle had gained knowledge from innumerable divergent worlds. Using this newfound mystical power, she had conquered her world, united its varied peoples, and brought peace and prosperity to all through her own benignly neglectful rule.

Then Cadence, Princess of Love and the last of Twilight's family and friends, destroyed the Crystal Palace.

Along with everyone inside.

Why?

(Content Note: While the red tags are technically accurate, this is first and foremost a work of speculative fiction. It is not a gore fest.)

(Chronology Note: The crux of this tale takes place outside of continuity, in several of infinite possible futures. Its driftwood may touch upon any number of dimensional shores.)

A Queen of Light and Darkness story.

This tale was strongly inspired by Larry Niven’s All the Myraid Ways. Though I only read it once many years ago, it left a powerful impression on me, and you can definitely see that in this story.

Special thanks also to B_Munro, for recognizing the stories’ similarities and telling me who wrote that splendid story I’d read as a child, and what the name of it was.

Due to the nature of the discussion which follows this tale, there are comments - including mine - which may contain spoilers to varying degrees (depending on what you consider an actual spoiler). The more serious spoilers are behind the usual black boxes, of course. :twilightsmile:

Published 2019-11-20 09:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-11-20 09:20:01 UTC

I...

Queen Twilight was in her sanctum when she heard about the destruction of the Crystal Palace. Then again, she was rarely anywhere else.

With her mortal friends and family passed on, her apprentices and their grandchildren dust in hallowed graves, only her fellow princesses had remained for her. Even Spike, powerful as he had become as an adult, had ultimately fallen in battle. And many years later, when her soul-weary mentors had finally faded into oblivion, only Cadence and Flurry had remained. But with them both living so far away, and so busy ruling their own empire and dealing with an ever-expanding family, even they hardly counted anymore.

Thus, no longer did Twilight Sparkle have her teachers, her students, or even her friends. Nor, she had determined, did she need any. Mentors left. Apprentices caused heartache. And friends…

Friends… kept dying.

Additionally, the world and its various peoples just kept changing, faster and faster. The old ways were too faded, and the new ones too transient, too protean. Withdrawal therefore was the only logical choice.

So, for the second time in her life, Twilight had retreated from the world and into her studies. In preparation for her reclusion, she had placed the sun and moon into co-dependent matrices. The stars would be omnipresent, she’d decided, hidden during the day by the sun’s superior brightness.

Then, her planetary responsibilities finished, she’d finally been free to seek the shelter of books and scrolls, especially regarding the dimensional magic she had been refining for the last several centuries. It had been with a certain sense of relief that she’d closed her castle door behind her, looking forward to the aeons of isolation that lay ahead.

Yet, it had seemed that the world of ponies was not done with Princess Twilight Sparkle. For after the departure of the princesses Luna and Celestia, the other Equestrians had come to a kind of consensus that she was now the sole ruler of Equestria. Irritated at first, but wanting to be true to the memory of her beloved teachers, she’d grudgingly agreed to hold an annual court in Canterlot. On that one day, her voice could be heard by any in attendance. Anyone could ask for a hearing, and her word would be law. Otherwise, the Princess of Friendship was not to be disturbed.

It was wisdom she had been seeking when she’d shut first herself away in her sanctum. Wisdom, through ultimate knowledge. And she’d continued seeking it even as her legend had grown. The former map room of her castle – now her study, her sanctum sanctorum, call it what you might –was her place of knowledge and power. The walls were lined with shelves crammed with books and artifacts, and tables covered with lab equipment stood everywhere. And in the centre, where once the map table had been, stood the Apparatus.

It had been Luna’s last words as she’d faded completely into shadow that had inspired the grieving alicorn to begin its construction:

Don’t be so sad, Twilight, please… there are worlds beyond this one.

It had been as though a thunderclap had cut through Twilight’s mind, jarring her awake from a grief-induced slumber. Of course there were other worlds! Other worlds, other Equestrias, all with their own stores of knowledge and lore. And she could learn from them all!

There had been limited dimensional travelling before that point, of course. Starswirl the Bearded, Sunset Shimmer, and a few others. But that had always been small scale, and often accidental. Uncontrolled, and therefore with minimum educational value.

Hence, the Apparatus.

The Apparatus was the means by which Twilight had made the impossible, possible. A massive fifth-dimensional device combining cutting-edge dimensional sorcery and time magic, the Apparatus was perpetually being improved by its mistress, upgraded with the science and sorcery gathered from hundreds of different worlds. It tracked and calculated the probability membranes between a virtually infinite number of divergent and parallel worlds, allowing travel thereto with ease.

The Apparatus did not open a gate; that might risk something from the other side coming through. Instead, it allowed a pony with a personalized amulet to teleport from their home dimension to another, and back again.

At first, the Apparatus had been comparatively simple. After completing the first amulet, Twilight had enjoyed visiting these other realms alone. It had been fascinating, speaking with other Twilights, learning the history and lore of other Equestrias and exploring the various might-have-beens these new worlds represented.

But, there had also been other Celestias. Other Lunas. Other Spikes. Other everypony. Sometimes, the pain had been more than she’d wanted to bear.

Additionally, Twilight had often been recognized when she travelled, which had caused problems on several occasions. Once she’d even met an undead version of herself, sustaining itself on the blood of those it ruled. Ravening for the lore that had led Twilight there, the thing had hunted her with all its power. And although Twilight had escaped, the encounter had left her shaken to her very soul.

Additionally, there was the question of her own traitorous heart. What if she found an Equestria where everyone she loved was still alive, but there had never been a Twilight born? Could she bear to leave? After a time, she realized she wasn’t completely sure.

The Royal Order of Interdimensional Scouts had therefore been the perfect solution. Their service had staved off both the pains and the temptations that other worlds might offer. It had also helped avoid unnecessary conflict… as well as evading another, even more personal fear.

The Scouts always travelled in teams of three, one Scout to represent the strengths of each of the pony tribes. She trained each of them herself, making them experts at survival, magical lore, investigation, and research. Then, once their training was done, the Scouts swarmed through the dimensions, finding and exploring timelines at a rate that their queen never could.

Their amulets, based on Twilight’s original design, would work only for the Scouts. Further, the Scouts were armored with special harnesses to protect them from hostile environments and allow them to blend with their surroundings, as well as being armed with hidden weapons of fire and frost.

Being thus equipped, Scouts were able to brave any terrain, accelerating their queen’s learning curve even further. And for many years, the Scouts had spread across the infinite possibilities like locusts of pure curiosity. They would explore, they would learn, they would record, they would gather data and artifacts. And ultimately, they would return to their monarch with their treasures. Treasures over which, along with her Scouts’ reports and downloaded amulet recordings, Twilight would endlessly pore.

Always a devoted scholar before, she had quickly become obsessed, amplifying her already unprecedented knowledge and power by many times, again and again. Twilight’s magic had continued to grow with her understanding of the universe and its workings, and that knowledge had come to a large extent from her studying the other worlds her Scouts explored. Her sanctum had expanded its inner volume slightly each year, filled with relics from divergent worlds, bursting with wisdom from other, varied dimensions.

Some of those dimensions were almost idyllic, like the ones where the Two Sisters had never fought and still lived on in endless joy, or where Discord was a hero and more ponies become alicorns with each generation, or even where a noble Sombra used his pure magic to protect his people, keeping the evil princesses at bay. The scrolls and books from such places had allowed Twilight to completely dispel hunger and disease from her world, as well as extend life dramatically for sapient creatures in every clime.

Other dimensions, meanwhile, were more dystopian. Here, a world where Nightmare Moon ruled alone. There, an empire where the Two Sisters had fallen before Sombra’s might. The dark magic tomes recovered from such places held forbidden lore undreamed-of, their twisted rites of binding keeping unnamable shadows at bay. Such knowledge protected Princess Twilight’s planet from out-world invasion, as well as from those Elder Things of which mortal ponies were best not knowing.

Likewise, not all the realms that Twilight discovered had much to offer her. Some Equestrias were lifeless, their lands barren and howling with unbroken, poisonous winds. Any artifacts from these worlds had to be kept behind specially leaded glass to block their deadly radiation, examined only through telekinesis. Other Equestrias were found completely destroyed, fragments of broken worlds drifting silently in an empty, starless void.

Others still were pure madness: Discord having never been cast down, or having fallen but later reclaimed his throne of chaos. In those worlds, there was no order, no plan, no hope. Only Discord, reveling in the random insanity that he wrought as he danced and writhed, surrounded by the music of idiot flute players and biped beavers.

Twilight Sparkle had visited only one such world, when the Apparatus was still new and she was the only explorer. When she’d appeared, the chaos god had paused just long enough to wink and leer at her, Hello, Twily. You’re looking well. Care to stay?

Terrified, she’d fled back to her own Equestria and powered the Apparatus down, shaking uncontrollably.

The Discord she had known had retreated to the Castle of the Two Sisters when Fluttershy had died, so many years ago. He had been many things, but so far as she knew he was never omniscient. So when Twilight had regained her composure somewhat, she had gone to where he’d dwelt, asked him how his other self had known her.

But Discord had only laughed.

She never sought out the Lord of Chaos again. Instead, she had founded the Scouts, training ponies to explore dimensions in her place. Nor was Discord seen by anypony afterwards, his legend fading gracefully into myth. It was only when, decades later, she’d asked one of the Scout teams to seek out the draconequus in his lair that she had been tactfully informed of his disappearance.

It seemed that while Her Highness had been busy with her own concerns, the castle had been converted into a museum. The Everfree Forest had been tamed, rebuilt, and ultimately absorbed into the growing and thriving metropolis of Ponyville. All that remained of the forest was a large and well-maintained park. And throughout that process, of the draconequus there had been no sign.

Yet, even then, Discord’s fate was of little concern to the monarch. Twilight had just discovered a new breakthrough, allowing the Apparatus to reach into even more dimensions. And while the Lord of Chaos’ input would have been helpful in her current research, it was hardly vital. Of much greater importance, more dimensions being discovered had called for more Scouts.

Many, many more.

When Twilight had first begun recruitment, there had only been one team of three. By the time she’d heard about Discord’s having vanished, years had passed, and there had been nine teams. With her new breakthrough increasing the Apparatus’ reach exponentially, she’d increased her beloved Scouts likewise. The flow of knowledge coming to her had increased geometrically from then on.

Now there was hardly time for anything else. Not that Twilight minded, of course. Aside from her annual court, the outside world held little to interest her anyway.

Such disinterest, however, had not been mutual. Rumors of the immense power that Princess Twilight was gaining had inevitably spread. Terrified of what such undreamed-of power might mean, the northern kingdom of Yakyakistan had declared war. Equestria had responded in kind. Armies had been amassed, diplomacy attempted and failed. Lives were lost.

Finally, word had reached the princess in her sanctum that people were dying. Twilight had frowned, and thanked the young messenger. Then, turning her attention to the Apparatus, she’d summoned her Scouts back to their own world. After all, it wouldn’t do for one of her teams to suffer because she was distracted with local matters.

Once they were all safely returned, Twilight had ascended to her highest tower. She’d looked out to the north, her ancient senses piercing the distance as though it were nothing. The Alicorn Queen’s horn had glowed a soft violet, and a great wind had blown over both armies. Every one of the thousands of combatants on both sides had simply frozen in that north-bound wind, unharmed but unable to move, even as each weapon and piece of armor on the battlefield had crumbled into a purple-colored dust. Above them, the sun had burned a dark indigo and violet, the newly-revealed stars spelling out two words from horizon to horizon:

GO HOME.

Had she still relied on spells, such an act would have been a taxing affair, even for her. But thanks to her continual research, Twilight had by this time transcended the need for mere enchantments. Magic, even reality itself, simply re-ordered itself to her liking. So, once the conflict was dealt with, Twilight had simply alerted her Scouts that they might return to the worlds they’d been exploring. Then she’d gone back to her own interests, and put the matter out of her mind.

But where she had seen a simple solution to a bloody and needless war, the rest of the world had seen a demonstration of power beyond anything in legend. In the face of such terrible might, the Yaks had almost immediately sworn themselves to Equestria’s banner. Sending diplomats and tribute, they had pledged themselves to the Queen of Light and Darkness for a thousand-thousand moons. In the months that followed, other kingdoms and nations had begun to follow suit. By the time Twilight re-emerged to hold her annual court, she’d found herself suddenly dealing with the concerns of a sprawling empire.

Five years after that, Queen Twilight’s empire had spanned the world.

Within twenty years of what historians eventually came to call Dark Day, every tribe, clan, and nation had been integrated into the Great Hierarchy of Power, with Equestria securely at the top. Travel across great distances had become commonplace. And with such travel, of course, came trade. Soon afterward, currencies had become standardized and translator amulets had spread throughout the realm. Books were translated into dozens of languages, universities and magical centers of travel and communication were planned and built in scores of kingdoms.

Thus had war been brought to an end throughout Twilight’s world, within a single generation. And, less well-known, thus did Her Dread Majesty also learn to tread carefully when dealing with the mortals around her.

Meanwhile, there were by this time exactly one hundred teams of Scouts, a community unto themselves. They were constantly moving in and out of phase, materializing in pre-arranged adjoining chambers within the World Queen’s own castle. There they were debriefed by Twilight or one of her hoof-picked research assistants, later to rest in their apartments in her castle, eat, talk, live and make love… and then leave again a few days later when a new world was found.

And there were so many worlds! As Twilight’s excitement mounted over time, she became more and more driven. If there was a limit as to what timelines could be found and entered, she had yet to discover it. Theoretically, there was an infinite number of worlds being created with every passing second, multiplied by the infinite choices made and the infinite random factors influencing them, multiplied again by how many infinities of worlds there had already been, only a second before… a literally immeasurable multiverse to explore, with all its endless lore unfolding before her!

At first, she had communicated with her Major and Minor Domos when necessary, and avoided conversing with her Royal Guard or the nobility whenever possible. But as the years had slid past her more and more quickly, even that much contact with the outside world had almost completely faded away.

Now, she spoke with nopony else unless holding her annual court. She did not even emerge from her sanctum. There was no reason to waste her time thus. Magic sustained her without the need for food or drink; she had a cot in her lab when she needed rest. Meanwhile, the flow of Scouts and the data they brought was endless. They were almost the only ponies she spoke to any more. Usually as part of debriefing them, though occasionally simply talking to them about their journeys and experiences.

Meanwhile, the Apparatus was reaching more timelines than ever. Twilight was preparing to increase its reach again with more freshly-trained recruits, as soon as her newest improvements to it were complete. Limitless, universal understanding was almost within her grasp. And every day, it grew closer.

Every day, until the news came that Princess Cadence had destroyed her own castle… with herself, her daughter, her grand-children, and everypony else still within.

II...

“What?” The Queen stared at the ebon stallion, her mind all but frozen.

But Forthright Lance only nodded. “There can be no mistake, Your Highness. I have the report for you, of course.”

He held the stuffed manila envelope out to his liege, continuing, “But the scene has been investigated thoroughly. Fragments of bodies are everywhere, and the blast definitely came from within. Only someone of a princess’ power could have destroyed the palace so completely with a single blast. I’m sorry, but there were no--”

With a violet flash from her horn, the Queen flicked the envelope to land on a nearby table.

“Gather your soldiers,” she commanded as she began to pace. “I should have been informed of this immediately. I want Canterlot secure against attack or infiltration from all directions, and send word to have every town and village evacuated into the major cities.”

He blinked. “All of them? You mean, throughout Equestria?”

She shook her head. “No, I mean everywhere. Now go.” She turned to the door. “Falstaff!”

Even as the captain of the Queen’s Personal Guard departed, her Major Domo entered, puzzled and bowing. “Your Majesty—”

“There’s no time, just listen. Hours ago, the Crystal Palace was destroyed. The crime scene has already been gone over, and the criminals are still at large. Send word to the Crystal Empire that nothing about the crime scene is to be touched further; I am hereby conducting my own investigation. Alert the Hierarchy of Magi that they are to have every major city in the world shielded and prepared for an influx of evacuees. I want every sapient in those cities screened, every point of egress warded against magical assault.

“Also, inform the Council of Wyrms that the skies and the ley lines are to be held, and send word to the Sea Kingdoms that the oceans are to be bound until I decree otherwise. Now.”

Another hasty bow. “Your Majesty.”

As Falstaff galloped away, the World Queen turned to the Apparatus, and again her horn glowed with power. An instant later, the sound of scores of confused voices could be heard in the nearby rooms, suddenly filled with Scouts unceremoniously returned from their missions.

Her eyes narrowed. There was a terrible sound, and the gem-like walls separating the Scouts from her were curled and peeled away, the stones forming themselves into block pillars as they assembled themselves in the far corners. Now three hundred ponies surrounded her, their views unimpeded.

“Hear me,” she said, and the entire area was filled with silence. “There has been a murder. Princess Cadence, her family, and all those within and around their palace home are dead.”

There was a stirring among the Scouts. Disbelief, anger, shock, grief. But all lapsed into silence as their queen spoke again.

“You are going there.” She said. “All of you. The devastated ruins of a palace are massive. The emotional shock will be tremendous, and effective clean-up will not have been started yet. You are hereby empowered in my name to conduct searches, seize evidence, and arrest and detain suspects as need be, regardless of their status or rank. You are going to examine everything about the place.”

She bared her teeth. “Everything. You will see what others did not know how to see. You will find what others did not know how to find. You will use everything you have learned in your travels. And you will identify those responsible.

“However,” she went on, “regardless of their identities, the murderers are not to be harmed any more than necessary. I want them here. I want them to stand trial. And above all, you are to take no unnecessary risks in bringing these criminals in.”

She took a breath. “I want you back alive. All of you.”

Queen Twilight looked out across the sea of faces before her, each one personally chosen by her for their talents, their strengths, and their passion for learning. Each pony, a story she knew too well.

“Report to your superiors within the Order, or directly to me, rather than endanger your own life,” she said. “Some of you have been with me since this project started. Others, only a little while. I know this might sound strange, with the dangerous nature of what we do here. But… I don’t want to lose you, too.”

Her voice cracked as she added, “Not one of you…”

There was a moment’s pause, and one of her first Scouts, a silver-haired stallion named Wind Walker, stepped up and looked at Her Dread Majesty for a moment, before lunging forward and hugging her in a fierce embrace. She was taken aback, even as she felt another pony embrace her from the side. And another. And another. Feeling very foolish, she hugged them back, with forelegs and wings, even as the sound of ponies stepping forward became a wave of support, even as she fought against the tears that threatened to fall.

How? How had this happened? When did she start making friends again? Why hadn’t she learned? With their strength holding her up, the tears escaped her control at last, and Twilight Sparkle, the World Queen, the last surviving alicorn, buried her face in Wind Walker’s shoulder, openly and loudly weeping with her people.

Throughout the world, the Alicorn Queen commanded the loyalty of her subjects. Some through pride, some through honor, and many through simple fear. Only among the Royal Scouts was that loyalty given out of love.

Sometime later, after teleporting the Royal Scouts to the Crystal Empire, the Queen summoned one of her Minor Domos as she strode down her castle halls.

“Do you have the contact information for Akane Apple?” she asked. “I’d like to bring her in on the Crystal Empire murder.”

“Your Highness?”

“Akane Apple. I think we could use her unorthodoxy on this case.”

At her Minor Domo’s blank look, she tried, “Court Investigator? Martial artist? Daughter of Roundhouse Pell and…” she trailed off, her hoofsteps coming to a halt.

She sighed. “Remind me, what’s your name again?”

“Abacus Plinth, Your Highness.”

“Right. Sooooo, Abacus. Who is the current Court Investigator?”

“We don’t have one, Your Highness.”

Becoming less and less pleased by the second, Twilight inquired, “And just how long has there been no Court Investigator?”

“The office was dissolved twelve years ago, Your Highness.”

“Of course it was!”

Twilight took a breath to steady herself. “Well, Akane had a daughter. Anna. I just bet she taught her little girl a thing or two about detecting…”

She started to say something else to the stallion, then thought better of it.

“Tell you what, I’m going to Sweet Apple Acres,” she said instead. “If anypony needs me, I’ll be either there or on my way back here.”

There was a burst of purple light, and she was gone, leaving Abacus Plinth to stare at where she had been in dismay.

“But… Sweet Apple Acres is gone…”

III...

Queen Twilight stared at the burned devastation that remained of the farm in a mild state of shock. Here was the barn, once huge and red, now burned black and sagging. The hen house was a charred wreck, and what had been a sprawling ranch house was now a mass of sad kindling, new plants growing up through the ruin. Whatever had happened, it had been months since the fires had died down.

Reluctantly, she moved into the orchards, walking among the charred corpses of the Apple family’s pride and joy. Nature had already been at work, using the dead wood as nests, food, and shelter. Even the comforting smell of old trees and apples had vanished, replaced by the scents of new grass and young saplings. The land and its life cycle was still alive and well, but the orchard was gone.

At length, she stood before a charred stump, once shared by two trees. It stood in the middle of a clearing marked by other charred and crumbled remains. This was where the worst of the devastation was, and so probably where the conflagration had started. Then the winds would have fanned the flames, turning it into an inferno. Firefighters must have had their hands full just containing the blaze to the orchard and homestead.

And no one had told her, because she was ‘the Queen.’ And ‘the Queen’ hadn’t wanted to be bothered.

With a sigh, she collapsed into a sitting position before the scorched remains.

Wait. She frowned. Why hasn’t any of this been repaired? With a terrible suspicion, she rose again and began spiraling out from the center of the glade. It was only then, when she regarded the small clearing specifically for the telltale shapes in the grass, that she saw the bones of those who had died in the blaze.

Damn it, she thought. I’m so sorry, Applejack. Your family, your traditions, your descendants…

Shaking herself, she took in a breath, then released it. Fine. Deal with what I can do now. If nothing else, I can bring the murderers to justice. Her horn glowed a soft magenta as she concentrated, time itself becoming slightly softer in the area. Grass shrank down, fire flowed backwards, ponies rose and un-coughed smoke. Then, she let it run forward again.

And stared, horrified.

One of the Apples, a young stallion with a rifle, all of maybe thirteen, surrounded by corpses. His mother and sister, still alive with a few other foals. His mother begging him to spare the young ones, to just tell her why…

“It don’t matter, Mama,” he said. “Nothing does.” And he threw down his lighter, the accelerant he’d spread around catching in an instant inferno of blue.

As the flames leaped higher and the ponies screamed, Twilight could hear the oldest Apple speaking softly to the crying child in her arms, trying to comfort her.

“Just stay with me, honey. It’s okay. Breathe it in. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Just breathe, baby. Breathe.”

The commissioner’s office was disorganized, the stallion himself terrified. That suited Twilight’s mood perfectly.

After watching the deadly fire start, Twilight had gone back further. Young Pippin Apple had been fiercely intelligent, dedicated to his studies, dutiful at home, and loving to his family. For a few months, he had been less diligent at school and home, but nothing to explain the atrocity she had seen. There had also been no sign of magical interference, possession, or impersonation. No poisons, no unusual animal activity, no strange weather. No jilting would-be marefriend or coltfriend, no major troubles at home. He’d just gone insane, apparently.

And no one, in Twilight’s experience, ‘just went’ insane.

So, law enforcement files had seemed the next logical step. The outer police had been helpful enough. Likewise the receptionist: a young green-colored foal, probably working as an intern. However, when she’d found and queried the pony in charge of the department, Twilight had discovered something completely other than logic at work.

“What the hell do you mean there was no investigation!?” She roared, looming over his desk, wings unfurled and eyes ablaze.

The walls groaned softly, corners of the room seeming to melt away into shadow as she went on, “What is this, the Stillwater PD? Are you fucking Barney Fife!? The most well-known farm in Ponyville history destroyed, over a dozen ponies dead, an entire extended family burned to death, and you didn’t look into it at ALL!?”

In the distance, lightning flashed in a clear sky, and the winds lashed at the building’s outer walls.

“SINCE WHEN IS PONYVILLE GUARDED BY THE KEYSTONE FUCKING COPS?!?”

But instead of answering, the commissioner just fell to his knees, eyes screwed shut. “Oh, Celestia,” he whispered. “Lorraine, I love you…”

Twilight blinked, then looked down at him, shame flooding through her. What was she doing? He wasn’t the enemy. Not to mention that he’d never studied parallel worlds, so most of what she’d just said was probably just gibberish to him anyway.

So much for my vaunted intellect, she thought ruefully. Poor guy probably thinks he’s got some crazed demon in front of him, when actually it’s just me just being stupid.

She forced herself to calm down, at least externally. She pulled in her wings and her power, the room’s natural geometry reasserting herself as she did, the weather abating once more. In front of her, the stallion still cowered.

Damn it, she winced. Twilight, you screaming bitch.

She focused, and a small crystal cup appeared in the air before him. An instant later, a miniscule storm cloud materialized above it, pouring fresh rainwater into the container while it popped and flashed its tiny lightning bolts. Simultaneously, she reached out gently with her mind, reducing his fear of her as well as she could.

“Here,” she said. “I’m sorry. Drink this, and try to calm down. I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at what happened. You’re not in any danger, I promise. I never harm the messenger. And really, I’m sorry I frightened you.”

He took the cup gratefully, drank the water in a few hasty gulps, hooves still shaking slightly.

“When I saw the farm… it re-opened some old wounds,” she went on. “Things I’d thought I’d dealt with, and I hadn’t. Plus I’m still dealing with another matter, even closer to home. Then, add that to what happened, what I saw there…”

She sighed. “I should have monitored myself more closely, and I didn’t. I really am sorry. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

The Queen peered at him. “Are you going to be okay?”

He nodded.

“Can we start over?” she asked.

He nodded again.

“All right,” she said evenly.

She took a deep breath, released it. “There was no investigation into the Sweet Apple Acres mass murder. Can you tell me why?”

“We’ve…” he started, then lapsed into silence.

“Yes?” she prompted, in what she hoped was an encouraging voice.

“It’s just… we’ve been so swamped,” he said, miserably. “There have been so many strange deaths, suicides, homicides, mixes of both…”

She stared. “What? How many? For how long?”

“In retrospect, we figure it started in tiny amounts, around ten years ago or so,” he said. “Maybe as far back as twenty, in truly rare, isolated events. We can’t be sure. But it only became a noticeable pattern – or, rather, a lack of pattern – about a year ago. Here.”

Most of his fear now replaced with sadness and fatigue, he got up and led her further down the hall, to a much larger room. The walls were covered with charts and maps, boxes of files stacked on much of the floor. It was filled with other officers who, seeing Her Dread Majesty, quickly bowed and left the two of them the room. Their expressions matched their commissioner’s, creased with exhaustion and despair.

“Look for yourself,” the commissioner said. “We have crimes we’d classified as accidents or tragedies from years ago we’re having to reexamine now, because of the sheer senselessness of them.”

He reached down, grabbed a file at random.

“Here’s one. Auric Bilious, earth pony, Millionaire. Ninety-five. Dismissed his household staff, gave each one a savings account of a hundred thousand bits for their years of service. Then he dressed in his best suit, sat in his favorite chair, and drank poison. Went to sleep, never woke up. He’d redone his will earlier that day, ordering that his estate be given to anypony who wanted it.”

He picked up another file, also at random. “Starling Crest, pegasus, age thirty. Cloudsdale resident, unemployed. Borrowed ten thousand bits at twenty percent interest, said he’d bring it back the next day. Went to a casino, put everything on boxcars. Everything. On one roll.”

The stallion shook his head. “He lost. Not a shock, really. It turns out the odds are about thirty to one. But when he did, he just walked out of the casino, happy as a clam. And then he kept walking, right off the edge of the cloud.”

The stallion looked up at her. “Fell the whole way, never opened his wings. Never even tried.”

He grabbed another file from a different box. “Here’s Maple Vine, unicorn, age fifty. Ethics professor. Murdered her husband of thirty years in his sleep. Then she just ran off. Location still unknown.”

The lawpony looked at her, his eyes haunted. “We’ve got hundreds of these cases. Hundreds. That we know of. And they’re getting more frequent.”

She stared at him, horrorstruck. “What do they have in common?”

“They’re all educated, intelligent ponies.”

“And?”

“That’s it. All kinds, all incomes, all backgrounds. Just not a dropout or a fool among them. At least,” he gestured to the boxes helplessly, “not on record. There’s no way of knowing who may be just falling through the cracks.”

The Queen stepped forward, laid a gentle hoof on his shoulder. “Well, as of right now, those cases just became my top priority.”

The room glowed purple for a moment, then subsided. “I’ll work off the copies I just made in my sanctum. I’ve left you the originals. Will you keep me up to date if you learn anything new?”

He nodded.

“Good.”

As she reached the door, he spoke again, “Your Majesty?”

She turned.

He bowed. “Thank you.”

She nodded, managed a grim smile, and left.

Back in her sanctum, Twilight applied any number of algorithms to the data she’d taken from the commissioner’s files. When that failed to shed any light, she’d determined she needed more expansive data. Not just on Ponyville and Cloudsdale. On Equestria. Maybe the whole empire. But on her way to the Royal Archives, she happened to overhear two of her noble ponies conversing before they rounded the corner. The discussion died as soon as they saw her, both ponies dropping to one knee as she came into view.

“Your Majesty.” Their voices blended perfectly.

“Please rise,” she said. “I would like to hear more about what you were just saying.”

“It was nothing of consequence to Your Dread Majesty, surely,” the older mare said.

The younger stallion nodded, obviously following her lead. “Be assured, Your Majesty, we will handle the situation with full diplomacy.”

“I know you will,” Twilight answered, noting the quiet look that the mare gave him. “And I assure you, in turn, I have no intention of interfering. But it remains: I would like to know more about it. You mentioned a war.”

The stallion hesitated, looking to the mare – probably his mother, Twilight noted, they had the same eyes – who sighed and answered for him.

“As Your Majesty wishes. We have received word that the Yaks and the Panthers are amassing private armies, something which is strictly against imperial law. There are concerns that they may be planning rebellion against the Pax Equestria.

“But I assure you,” she added with a practiced blend of confidence and concern, “We will not let it come to war. And I am certain their leaders will not either. Whatever their grievances are, they will be addressed.”

Twilight frowned, nodding as she considered this. Then, she asked, “Are they the first?”

The noblemare frowned. “My liege?”

“Is this the first time that unrest has shown itself in such a manner?”

In the moment while the mare searched for an answer, her son spoke. “No, Your Majesty. Not exactly. There have been occasional revolutionary forces, guerillas, even terrorists throughout the empire for several years now. But always in small numbers, too small to achieve their goals. This is the most blatantly militant and most large-scale defection, as well as the first time such a resistance has been formed by a subject government.”

She cocked her head. “Hm. Do you know why?”

The mare cut her son off smoothly, saying, “Thus far, they haven’t been terribly specific regarding their grievances, Your Majesty. The small uprisings had seemed almost random, as if they didn’t even care. This is, I will admit, something new. But I’m sure that as soon as we sit at the table and discuss things, we’ll work it all out. The larger would-be rebellion, and the smaller skirmishes.”

The queen nodded. “Of course. Just the same, this might tie into something else I’m researching. So I’d like to speak to some of those other revolutionaries. Where are they being held?”

Both of the nobles looked uncomfortable.

“They… are being held, aren’t they?”

At last, the stallion spoke again. “No, Your Majesty. None of them were taken alive. They fought to the death, in every case.”

He looked down. “In… in those instances when they were in danger of being captured, they—”

“Ermine,” his mother said. Her voice was quiet and deliberately calm. “Give us this space, please.”

“But…”

“I said go.”

After a second, he looked form his mother to his monarch, the latter becoming more puzzled and concerned by the second. Then he bowed again, “Your Majesty,” and went back the way he came. Only when he was out of earshot did his mother raise her terrified eyes to Twilight again. Still, the noblemare’s voice was level when she spoke again, though her words were quick.

“Your Majesty, I take full responsibility. I submit myself to whatever punishment you see fit. I ask only that you please leave the rest of my house blameless. None of this was their fault.”

Twilight blinked. What was this about? She could have sworn that she’d stayed calm this time. “Um… look, I’m not a Sith Lord… you don’t need to…”

At the look of confusion joining the fear in the old mare’s eyes, she sighed.

“Never mind.” Glancing around the hall, she added, “I think we should discuss this in private. Would you come with me, please?”

Resigned, the mare bowed. “As Your Majesty wishes.”

After a few hours’ discussion, Twilight was again alone in her sanctum. She sighed. It hadn’t even occurred to her to ask the noblemare’s name until they were in the sanctum.

And how do you like your tea… I’m sorry, what is your name?

Noblesse Oblige, Your Majesty.

Another failing. When had people – ponies or otherwise – become so unimportant to her that she didn’t even learn their names?

Still, once they’d started actually talking, Noblesse Oblige had been remarkably helpful bringing light onto several topics. For one thing, it seemed that the starting points for the few terrorist activities on record had been media hubs and universities.

Which was strange, since higher education had always been associated with a decrease in violence before. And globalization had also led to higher quality of life in every region of the empire. Noblesse had also been invaluable in helping Twilight find the specific documents regarding all known incidents in their various kingdoms, as well as the beings involved.

But there was another matter, the matter of how Twilight’s people perceived her. Here, as well, Noblesse was informative, though more reluctantly.

Queen Twilight, it seemed, was a demigoddess to her people, a creature of mystery, an alien force of nature best appeased and left alone. Never to be called upon lightly, her aid being almost as dangerous as her wrath. Still, she came into view once a year to hear those mortals beneath her who would dare seek her aid. Then she would vanish again to her unassailable abode, leaving the world to its own workings for another year. Something more than mere mortal kind, many times more dangerous and unpredictable than anything else under the sky she ruled.

Glumly, Twilight reflected that she shouldn’t have been surprised. Celestia and Luna had always gone out of their way to be cordial and kind, and still ponies had seen them as all but unapproachable. Twilight, by contrast, had always been remote since the day of their deaths. It had been she who had removed herself from her subjects. She’d known this perfectly well, though admittedly she hadn’t considered all the ramifications until now.

But I should have, she thought. And if my subjects have, in kind, removed me from their world… well, I’ve got nopony to blame but myself.

She thought back through the centuries, to Cranky and Matilda’s wedding. She’d heard every word of the final speech, for all that she and her friends had been peeking in through a window at the time. And Mayor Mare had been right when she’d said that in everypony’s lives, each pony was the main character in their own story. In her selfishness, Twilight realized, she had forgotten that. She had become aloof, separating herself from her people and her world as though only she had mattered. Outside of her beloved Scouts, there were so few she actually knew by name.

And now, she had to wonder… how many lives? How many lives had been cut mercilessly short, their stories left forever unfinished? How long had this senselessness been going on, slowly building up to this point, while she devoted herself to anyplace and everyplace but here?

Initially, Noblesse Oblige had been convinced that Twilight would punish her for the violence that had been plaguing the empire of late. The noblemare had expected to be killed or worse, simply because she had been looking for a solution with her son’s help, and had therefore been there to tell her queen the news. It had taken nearly twenty minutes to convince her otherwise.

Twilight covered her face with her hooves. That. That was what her subjects thought she was. Something to be so feared, they wouldn’t even risk telling her when they were on the verge of war. And that was very telling of the kind of queen she had become.

More than that, it was telling of the kind of pony she had become.

Twilight sighed miserably. For years, she’d told herself she was honoring Celestia and Luna’s lessons, even as she was creating her own path. But, had she honestly been true to her mentors’ examples? No. She’d buried herself in her studies, leaving her empire to run itself.

And now it was on the brink of self-destruction, and her people were dying for reasons unknown. And what had she been doing instead of ruling them, guiding them, teaching them? Only glutting herself on greater and greater knowledge—

Power, she corrected herself. Let’s be honest about this. Knowledge may have been what I sought at first, but I’ve been gathering power undreamed-of, by any standards.

So. As a queen, what qualities had she been demonstrating most of all, over the years? A beloved mare with orange coat and golden mane hovered before her mind’s eye.

Tellin’ other folks the truth is one thing, Twi. Tellin’ yerself the truth about yerself… that’s miles harder.

Determined, Twilight turned her gaze inwards. What had her qualities as a ruler been? Wisdom? Hardly. Care? Certainly not. Justice? Perhaps, once a year. The rest of the time, she’d been walled up in her lab, with her project and her research.

But… negligence? She winced. Absolutely. It was clear she had no idea what was going on in her empire, even regarding the descendants of her dearest friends. Near-absolute power? Without a doubt. She’d never sought to conquer anypony… but one kingdom at a time, the entire world had surrendered itself to her unbidden, just to keep her appeased.

Nor could she blame them. Her power wasn’t just formidable, it was dangerous to everyone around her. That little episode at the commissioner’s office had certainly demonstrated that. Granted, she hadn’t lost control of herself like that since Applejack had died. And, of course, it would never happen again.

But that was hardly the point. Neither Celestia nor Luna had shown such qualities, nor had ever desired them. Nor, for that matter, had they ever used their magic with such abandon as she had on Dark Day.

Twilight sighed. She had done her best to fill the void that the Two Sisters’ deaths had left. For decades, she’d thought she had succeeded. But now…

Now, she wondered if she had replaced someone else, instead.

The thought was mildly horrifying. But, there were undeniable parallels between herself and the former Lord of Chaos, and she could no longer afford to ignore them. After all, here she was, combing the multiverse for infinite knowledge about its very nature. Infinite power, in a sense… some might even argue, ‘godlike’ power. What Discord, before his reformation, had once called the ‘deepest truth.’ Power without purpose. Without meaning.

Against her will, she remembered when they’d turned him back to stone, so very long ago. Just prior to his re-imprisonment, Discord had remained infuriatingly calm in that superior manner he sometimes had, while all the world went mad around him.

“Oh, Applejack, don’t lie to me. After all, I’m the one who turned you into a liar.”

He’d grinned as he’d pulled her friends to him by their amulets. “You see, in the end, the deepest truth of all is power. And chaos, of course.”

The draconequus his finished his glass and thrown away the milk, adding, “Nothing else matters, if even that does.”

Twilight frowned. But I do matter, she reminded herself, because I have purpose. More than that, I have given life, order, and hope.

She’d never wanted to rule anypony, much less the world. Never. But once she’d found herself in the throne, she had changed the world for the better, time and time again.

Yes, like Discord, reality itself was hers to shape as she desired. But unlike him, she did so with care and deliberation. She had shaped a reality without famine, war, or disease. Small wonder the other peoples of the world held her in such awe, she supposed. If she weren’t seen from time to time, they’d probably be worshipping her.

Then again, according to Celestia and Luna’s records, ponies had sometimes tried to worship Discord to appease him, when chaos had still ruled the world.

But Discord had been a creature of uncertainty, she reminded herself. By contrast, she was seeking ultimate knowledge. Ultimate knowledge, ultimate understanding of the universe’s mysteries. It was her passion, her great love. Her way was nothing like mad Discord and his random magical transformations, punctuated by the idiosyncratic gibberish he would spout as though it were an in-joke only he could understand.

And yet…

Hello, Twily. You’re looking well. Care to stay?

Might his lunacy actually have been a knowledge she could not yet understand? Come to that, how insane did she seem to those around her, even now? How would she know if she did? She shook her head to clear it, but the idea remained. There was a symmetry to it, the thought that cosmic knowledge might appear to others as madness.

Focus, damn it! She chided herself. There’s time enough for philosophy later. Ponies are dying. People all over the world are suffering! The empire is on the brink of war!

With Noblesse’s information, plus the records she’d gained from the archives, surely she had the data she needed now. With renewed resolve, she began her calculations.

IV...

Hours later, surrounded by floating charts, diagrams, mathematical calculations, and files, the queen shook her head in sheer disbelief. The more the Apparatus had been used, the more, following a disintegrating curve in time delay, these strange and motiveless crimes of violence had occurred. When she accounted for the curve, there was an almost perfect positive correlation.

Yet, there were no emanations from the Apparatus itself to account for such an anomaly. Not to mention that she and the Scouts had been completely unaffected. And those who were closest geographically were not necessarily the most likely to die or kill. It was the well-educated, the highly intelligent, who seemed to suffer the most.

So, once she’d eliminated all kinds of emanation as possible causes, she had cross-referenced the types of crimes, their targets, the perpetrators, everything she could with the Apparatus’ uses over the years – worlds, times opened and closed, even traits of the individual Scouts who had gone through – to no avail. She had crunched numbers on political events, finances, even her own starry skies. No probability above chance connected any of the happenings to one another, or directly to the Apparatus’ use. No credible possibility of something slipping through from another world, possessing ponies or driving them insane.

But the crimes, the threat of war… they were still happening. And somehow, the Apparatus was the key. There had to be a third factor, something either connecting the violent acts to the Apparatus causally, or running in perfect correlation to them both. Something she hadn’t accounted for. But what?

At length, even her alicorn’s endurance gave way to fatigue, and she slumped over her desk, exhausted. She had just started slipping into dream when her head snapped up again, her eyes wide.

They’d all had the same knowledge… knowledge of the Apparatus! And more to the point, perhaps, what it truly did.

She began pacing again, more frantic than ever. What if it wasn’t the Apparatus itself, or some strange radiation from it or some possessing entity from an alien land? What if it was knowledge of the Apparatus that had been spreading throughout her realm? And with that knowledge, the strange crimes. Even in other lands, Noblesse Oblige had said the uprisings were almost always happening near universities, communication hubs, or both…

Hoping desperately she was wrong, Queen Twilight swept all the floating papers away with a wave of her hoof. Equations began to form in the air, variables moving and resolving themselves. When she found the result, she cleared the air before her, and worked the problem again, slower, more meticulously. Then, she cleared it again and started again. And again. Until, at long last, she could only stare at the correlation before her.

Somehow, in defiance of everything she had ever believed possible, knowledge itself had been killing her people.

But… that was insane. Since when could information kill?

Slowly, realization came. This had to be the third factor: the implications that came with knowledge of infinite realities.

Twilight began pacing again. She’d seen no reason to make what she was doing secret, even at the beginning. It had never occurred to her to try. Why would she? And as selective as she was about screening potential Scouts, there had been so many rejected candidates who had at least been exposed to theories anyway that it wouldn’t have been practical. Even now, there were a hundred teams of three ponies each, with twice than number in training. None of them lived in a vacuum; most of them had friends and families outside of the palace.

So, over the years, more and more people – mostly ponies, but also occasional yaks, zebras, dragons, and others – had been coming to understand and consider the source of her vast knowledge.

How must it have seemed to some of them? The realization that everything they did, everything that happened to them, was only one of an infinite number of things… all of which did happen to them, and were chosen by them, every second?

Twilight sat down, hard. Her head was spinning. It all made too much sense. Bitter, miserable ponies, knowing for a proven fact that in other universes they lived better lives. Ponies with every privilege, knowing that nothing they had or had gained mattered, because they simultaneously had nothing.

When everything is real, is everything permissible? When every choice is made and every chance comes true, does any choice really matter?

If the dice come up with every number, every time, why not put everything you can get on one roll? The interest doesn’t matter. Somewhere, you’ll win. And if not here, why not just die? After all, there are infinite worlds in which you’re wealthy, powerful and secure. Keep the good lives, discard the rest.

And meanwhile, other nations - nations that had never wanted to be part of an empire - were rallying around impossible rebellions. Of course they fought to the death! Why wouldn’t they, when they knew for a fact that, in other worlds, they were already free?

And then there was Cadence, Twilight realized. True, Cadence had killed everyone around her. But she’d only killed them here. In other worlds, other Cadences were still alive. More accurately, she was still alive, in an infinity of other worlds. In some of those worlds, Cadence still had her husband. Shining Armor had never succumbed to death. In others, she lived on anyway, simply because she was stronger and able to make a different decision.

So, by implication, when the Princess of Love had destroyed her palace… was there, because of that, one more world somewhere else where they had all lived, because Cadence had made a different choice? By committing mass murder and suicide, had she, in a sense, saved them all?

Pippin Apple, burning his family and himself, and all the farm, to death. When every choice is going to be made, every possibility is going to come true. Everything is going to happen to you, somewhere. So what does one choice matter?

It doesn’t matter, Mama.

Just stay with me, honey. It’s okay. Breathe. It doesn’t matter.

Twilight stared ahead, feeling numb. Constantly burying herself in magic and science, she had never considered what she’d been doing from that perspective before. But now…

It’s all true, she realized. All of it. Everything ever said, everything left unsaid, everything ever imagined. Even the lies are true.

“And if that’s the case,” she whispered, “then nothing… means anything.”

She stared, frozen in thought.

So, in the end, everything I’ve done… my whole life… none of it matters, she realized. None of it. Not me. Not my life. Not my friends, their lives, or even their deaths. Not my people. Not my work. Not my world. None of it.

Nothing matters.

Nothing matters.

Nothing.

Matters.

Twilight stifled a chuckle…

Twilight stifled a chuckle, the chuckle escaping, despite her best efforts, into laughter, and then a mad gale of cackling.

At length, disturbed and uncertain, servants had sent for some of her Scouts. Wind Walker was the first to arrive with his team, and when he saw her, he stood in silence, his eyes closed in pain. Neither he nor his companions needed to ask what had happened. Perhaps they had always expected this day to come, and had just never wanted to admit it even to themselves. His wife and husband put their hooves on his shoulders, and he returned the gesture. Then, heartbroken, they entered the royal sanctum together.

She did not fight them as they gently gathered her up, nor when they placed her in her old apartments in one of the palace towers, unused for so many years. When doctors came and went to no avail, the nobility simply filled in what little vacancy Her Dread Majesty had left, with a little sadness but with far greater relief. For the sake of the people, it was officially announced that the Queen of Light and Darkness had at last chosen to leave Equestria forever, to explore the cosmos she loved so well.

Yet even as the announcement was being composed, the Royal Order of Interdimensional Scouts secretly met before the Apparatus one final time. Together, they activated the great device.

Some of them left their homeworld behind them that day, never to return, usually along with friends and lovers from among their fellow Scouts. These ponies started new lives in other worlds they had come to love in their travels, worlds which held fewer painful memories. The rest were determined to remain behind, to complete the business at hand.

At length, the final farewell had been said, the final passage made. Those who had stayed looked one last time at the massive fifth-dimensional thing before them. Then, using all their combined wisdom and power, they powered the Apparatus down, dismantled it completely. It faded seamlessly into the cosmic principles from which it had been created. They would suffer no one to ever use such magic again.

The Royal Order of Interdimensional Scouts disbanded that day. Should their skills be needed, naturally they would answer. But unless such a time came, they would simply vanish.

It was better that way, they felt, for everyone’s sakes.

So it was that the Queen of Light and Darkness became the guarded secret of Canterlot Castle. Cherished and cared for, never ageing, never dying, and always, always, laughing. Whatever terrible secrets she had discovered safely locked away within her mind, forever.

Twilight stifled a chuckle, shaking her head.

Ridiculous, she thought. Whatever was actually going on obviously had her too turned around to think properly. She stretched, yawning. She hated to admit it, but she had been at this problem for too damned long.

Still, she thought, Better safe than sorry.

Regardless of the ultimate cause of the deaths plaguing her people, if it might have anything to do with her projects, she owed it to her subjects to discontinue until she knew for certain and the problem was solved. With a flick of her will, she shut the Apparatus down completely.

It had been a long time, but she was willing to bet her old apartments were still vacant. She’d sleep in a bed tonight, and try to look at the problem with new eyes in the morning.

Twilight stifled a chuckle, shaking her head.

Ridiculous, she thought. Whatever was actually going on obviously had her too turned around to think properly. She stretched, yawning. She hated to admit it, but she had been at this problem for too damned long.

Still, Pinkie Pie had always told Applejack that sometimes it was in laughter that one found the deepest truths.

The deepest truths…

The thought arose in Pinkie’s voice from her memories unbidden, bubbling with the earth pony’s laughter. Twilight’s heart ached then, as it always did when she thought of her old friends. But immediately another, ancient voice from long ago finished the thought in her mind:

…is power. And chaos, of course. Nothing else matters, if even that does.

Twilight stared, feeling suddenly cold. Could it be that simple?

“No!” she shouted, suddenly standing again. “I won’t let it be that simple! I won’t let it be! Your chaos was pointless! It made life pointless!”

Wings flared, horn ablaze, the enraged winds lashing against her castle walls. “I’ve done the opposite! I’ve built things! Discovered things! Made life better for everyone!

“I’m not a force for chaos! I’m not! I bring justice! I bring peace! I bring life!”

Her voice cracked over the thunder as she screamed, “I bring ORDER!”

Then, darkness. Stillness.

The silence itself seemed to answer her.

No. You don’t.

She stared. Stared, realizing just who, or what, she had been yelling at.

The Apparatus.

For a moment, she simply stood there, staring at it, shaking. No, she thought. It can’t be.

Still trembling, she approached the embodiment of her life’s knowledge, her greatest achievement. There was only one decision that mattered, she realized. Only one choice that was, or could be, real.

She reached out towards the device she had labored over for so many years…

Still trembling, she approached the embodiment of her life’s knowledge, her greatest achievement. There was only one decision that mattered, she realized. Only one choice that was, or could be, real.

She reached out towards the device she had labored over for so many years, and after a moment’s concentration, felt it start to fold in on itself. She redoubled her efforts, felt it collapse into a probability singularity, then smooth itself out and vanish completely.

She stood in her sanctum, alone, for a long time. Finally, she raised her head again, tears still flowing freely down her muzzle.

I’m so sorry, she thought. I can spend my life trying to make this right, for a thousand years and more, and it still won’t be enough. But I still owe it to you to try. You are my people. And I, for better or worse, am your queen.

She looked around at her laboratory. And I owe you better than this.

She started towards the door, feeling, for the first time in her long life, very old.

Was this how you felt towards the end, Celestia? She wondered. Luna, were you trying to give me, not inspiration, but hope?

It hardly mattered now. In the grand scheme of things, nothing did. But that, itself, also didn’t matter. If the cosmos couldn’t give meaning to her life, then she would give it meaning herself. She paused at the door, smiling despite the ache in her heart. Falstaff would hardly be pleased at her suddenly holding daily court; the nobles, even less so.

But somehow, she didn’t mind that. She would announce the destruction of the Apparatus, the end of her experiments. That should eventually stop the strange deaths.

International diplomacy would follow, she decided. She had been the World Queen for far too long. She would make it clear to the world’s leaders that she had never demanded nor desired their tribute; only their good will, and to help them prosper.

She would embrace who she knew herself to be, and help the world’s fledgling nations secure their independence as best she could. She would be the Princess of Friendship once again. The Empire would fade, and good riddance.

And in the meantime, she could amuse herself by annoying those dreary nobles who had become so accustomed to running things. And if that proved too difficult, she had a feeling that Discord might be sighted again sometime soon.

She smiled to herself. If anyone could stir things up, the draconequus could.

She started down the hallway, in a somewhat better mood despite the troubles of the world. Maybe Celestia had felt this way sometimes, too.

Still trembling, she approached the embodiment of her life’s knowledge, her greatest achievement. There was only one decision that mattered, she realized. Only one choice that was, or could be, real.

She reached out towards the device she had labored over for so many years, and after a moment’s concentration, wrenched it open.

The explosion was felt throughout the palace.

No one dared open Her Dread Majesty’s sanctum doors save for the first of the Scout teams. Wind Walker glanced in, and then motioned the others, nobility and servants alike, away. He and his family alone entered, closing the door behind them.

The lab was a shambles, irreplaceable knowledge and lore gathered over the years forever lost. The Apparatus was gone. In the middle of the room was their beloved queen, the left half of her body all but completely burned away. Her face, at last, at peace.

Still trembling, she approached the embodiment of her life’s knowledge, her greatest achievement. There was only one decision that mattered, she realized. Only one choice that was, or could be, real.

She reached out towards the device she had labored over for so many years and wrenched it apart, down to its very conceptual core.

The Apparatus screamed, slicing through dimensions in a negatively charged stable strangelets cascade. The disruptions obliterated her own world along with countless others, reducing them to less than dust, their inhabitants’ stories left forever unfinished.

Still trembling, she approached the embodiment of her life’s knowledge, her greatest achievement. There was only one decision that mattered, she realized. Only one choice that was, or could be, real.

She reached out towards the device she had labored over for so many years, and rather than activating it as she had so many times past, she simply opened it.

Under the loving caress of her mind it blossomed forth like a rose in the sun, into five, six, seven dimensions and more.

How beautiful, she thought. How beautiful, and how strange. Strange that I never saw this way before.

But then, she knew, she hadn’t been awake enough to see.

Not until now.

As she entered, the facade that had been the Apparatus collapsed behind her and faded away into nothingness, leaving her old world undisturbed. She ignored it, walking across the threshold and into the source. This, she realized, was what she had been searching for her entire life. Lives, she corrected herself with a smile. And all without knowing. Blindly fumbling, desperately searching for what her soul had always craved. Just as another had done, unguessable eternities before.

He turned at her approach. Seen clearly, what had once seemed a leer was a look that was inviting and full of warmth. Even love.

He extended an eagle’s claw to her in welcome.

“Hello, Twily,” he said. “You’re looking well. Care to stay?”

Her smile growing warmer, she returned his glow as she took his talon in her hoof.

“Yes,” she said. “I do.”

Discord smiled as well, even as they took one another in a multidimensional embrace. Their kiss crossed space and time as they spun together through fact and fantasy, laughing and free.

Twilight, Queen of Light and Darkness, had found the answers that she’d craved for so long. And the Lord of Chaos, after infinite eternities of waiting, had found his queen at last.