Lightning Dust sat on a balcony under a roof of stars. A faint glimmer was the only indication it wasn’t open to space. There wasn’t even enough air for the lights in the sky to twinkle properly. The stars were as cold and hard as the rest of the moon and the black castle clinging spider-like to the jagged peaks of the mountain range.

“Still looking at Equestria?” Thorax asked.

“Yeah,” Dust said.

“It’s a lot safer here. We don’t have to worry about fighting or hurting anypony. Even if everything goes bad, we’ll be out of the way!”

“Yeah. I’m just not the kind of pony who wants to be somewhere safe. This feels more like a prison than a castle. Which I guess it sort of is?” Dust turned around to look up at the impossibly tall, thin spires. “I can’t believe Nightmare Moon was stuck here for a thousand years.”

“It’s not so bad! We’ve got a lot more room since we started mining Lunar Titanium, and we take turns turning into board games and decks of cards for everyling else to play with.”

Dust smiled. “Yeah. But I need to get back. I got this feeling like my heart is beating a hundred times a second. Like the rush right before a race is due to start. I can tell my friends are in trouble. Big trouble. I just can’t figure out how to get back to them.”

Thorax rubbed his chin. “There might be one way, but it’s dangerous.”

“Cool. I like dangerous.”

“We can launch you in the mass driver. It would be like being fired from a cannon. You’d get back to Equestria really quickly, but… it isn’t designed for passengers.” Thorax looked uncomfortable. “The force might turn you into jelly. Even if you survive the launch, I have no idea how you’ll land.”

“I’ll burn that bridge when I come to it,” Dust said. “How long will it take you to set it up?”

Sunset pushed, and the armor responded. Panels slid from one position to another as she moved, the magically-conductive material underneath glowing through the cracks. A wave of lightning bolts cracked through the air and she was already gone, taking a right turn at Mach speed and flitting through the ionized air faster than the magi onboard the airships could take aim.

Her hooves slammed into the deck of one of the ships, raising sparks as she skidded to a halt. Ponies stared at her for a fraction of a second, frozen in confusion.

Sunset’s gaze locked with an unfortunate recruit and she grinned, her horn erupting with light. The stray firebolts and lightning strikes that had missed her curved towards the ship, and she backflipped away off the deck as they cut through the space where she’d been a moment ago, the hull cracking apart as she caught the air with her wings again.

“One down!” Sunset yelled, over the open comm channel.

A flight of pegasi were between her and the next ship. She spread her wings, using what she’d learned from Dust to catch the wind, drag it along with her in a massive wake that caught the ponies as she shot past them and through the next ship’s rigging, the unfortunate soldiers crashing into the ship with bone-shattering force before she flipped in midair, her horn flaring. Her spell cut the ship in half, sending it towards the ground along with the first.

“That’s two!”

“I can’t,” Marble whispered. “I can’t fight ponies.”

“You don’t have to,” Sunburst assured her. “We’re going to get to the safest part of the lab and wait this out.”

“Mm…” Marble shook her head in denial.

“We just have to figure out a way to get out of this room,” Sunburst whispered. “Come on, Sunburst. Think. There has to be some way…”

He held a pillow up to the slim gap left between the door and the frame, and a crossbow bolt ripped through it, tearing it out of his grasp.

“Okay, so they haven’t stopped shooting. Good to know.”

The floor shook. There was screaming outside. The situation was so bad Sunburst wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He put his ear against the door just in time to get thrown aside as it was kicked open, something rounded and mottled blue-green lumbering into the room. It was like a steel frog crossed with a pony, all smooth edges and rubberized seals.

Sunburst stood protectively in front of Marble, his horn lighting up until--

“Is that the prototype underwater armor?” he asked, after a moment.

The helmet hissed and popped open. A black horror looked out from within. It offered a friendly grin.

“We decided to raid the lab for supplies,” the changeling said. “You need to move. I don’t know how long I can keep this thing going!”

Sunburst grabbed Marble’s hoof, leading her to the door. The changeling stepped out, crossbow bolts bouncing from the heavy diving suit. It raised a hoof and spears launched down the corridor with a pneumatic hiss.

“Go!” The changeling yelled. Down the corridor, a unicorn threw a spell that tossed the armored changeling into the wall, sparks erupting from the prototype armor.

Sunburst didn’t need to be told twice. He ran out, tripping over his own hooves. Marble held him up, stepping between him and the danger. A force bolt hit her armor, not even rocking her, the same force that had thrown the changeling just collapsing against her.

She turned on the threat, and the few lights in the corridor shattered, a wave of undirected force crumpling the walls and tiled floor.

“Slowing to one-half power,” the navigator said.

“That’s right, let’s be friends,” Chrysalis hissed. “Try not to make any sudden moves. There are enough ships here they’ll never even notice there’s one more. We’re just one big happy fleet. What’s the status of the other ships?”

The communications officer listened for a few moments. “Two are falling. A third has taken heavy damage. The battle lines are broken.”

“Of course they are. These are soldiers.” Chrysalis scoffed. “They came here expecting a war.”

“And this isn’t a war?” Cadance asked.

“A war has rules. Orders. A chain of command.” Chrysalis looked amused. “When you don’t like taking lives, it protects you. Ponies giving the orders don’t dirty their own hands, and the ones doing the deed are just following orders. Both feel blameless. It’s dishonest, which I almost respect, but I much prefer to be more direct.”

“What’s happening out there?”

Chrysalis looked to the communications officer.

“Sunset Shimmer is inside the ranks,” the changeling said. “It sounds like they can’t get enough force in one place to actually deal with her!”

“Good. She’ll be an excellent distraction. Get positions of the remaining ships and provide them to the firing team.” Chrysalis raised her chin. “Make them as precise as possible. We only have one chance with Operation Glass Houses.”

“When you attack, they’ll shoot us down, even if I’m on board,” Cadance said.

“Yes, but just think of it-- Celestia would make a big speech about sacrifice and how she’d spend the next hundred years making it up to you, and she’d find a way to make everypony think it was all your fault. Maybe she'd even get you to believe you were wrong all along, in the end.”

Sunset wrapped her wings around her body, projecting a tight shield just before the wave of attack spells hit, coming from too many angles for her to deflect or counter. If it had been one big evocation she could have taken it head-on, like a batter squaring their shoulders and swinging at a fastball. Dozens were hitting her from every angle, so instead of a single fastball it was like trying to defend against a swarm of ping-pong balls.

The attacks bounced off, but they were pinning her in place.

“Where were you when that big dragon attacked Canterlot?” Sunset mumbled. “Cadance had me trying to organize ponies that were barely out of magic kindergarten!”

Attacks bounced away until they faded like a hailstorm coming to a sudden end.

Sunset frowned, opening her wings up to look.

Six silver figures circled her like vultures, each twice the size of a pony. The boxy form told her immediately that they weren’t just suits of armor, but in place of the bulky oil-burning engine each had carried in its belly was a compact sphere, and the only thing venting from their wings were motes of pure magic.

“Cute. Tin soldiers.” Sunset rolled her eyes and dropped her shield, throwing a bolt of force at one of them.

A plane of magical force deflected it, ringing like a bell as the spell bounced away harmlessly.

“Okay. That’s a little more like it,” she admitted. “Come and get me!”

“The good thing is, your armor was still in okay shape when you got here,” Thorax said, as he helped Dust pull the heavy suit back on. “We’ve refilled your air supply and those big packs of changeling slime you were carrying.”

“What changeling slime?” Dust asked, confused.

“You know. These.” Thorax tapped the battery pack. “It’s kind of clever! We store love energy in the slime. I never thought about adding powdered crystal to it. It turns the stored energy into pure magic!”

“She had me carrying around changeling slime this whole time?” Dust mumbled. “Gross.”

“Hey, some of us produce that slime in our glands!”

“Yeah and I make snot in my glands, that doesn’t mean I wanna carry around a bottle full of it.” Dust groaned. “Whatever. I might need the boost.”

“The big problem is that when we launch you, um, you’re going to land pretty hard.” Thorax frowned. “We’ve had some practice shipping ore to Equestria, and as soon as it hits the air it breaks apart and catches on fire if it’s not protected.”

“Good thing I’ve got armor,” Dust said.

“It can’t hurt to have a few extra layers,” Thorax said. “We’ve got some tarps that’ll help deflect some of the heat.”

The changeling held up a silvery sheet. Dust took it and wrapped it around her shoulders like a cloak.

“It’s kinda thick.”

“It needs to be thick. The outer layers will burn off one by one. It should help a lot, especially if you rotate to keep hot spots from forming.” Thorax bit his lip, looking worried. “Are you sure about this? If we wait until everything is settled, it would be a lot safer!”

“I’m sure,” Dust said.

“Then you’d better take this too,” Thorax sighed. He pulled another tarp off of a long shape on the ground, then struggled with trying to pick it up, even in the lighter gravity.

Dust stepped past the changeling and hefted it in one hoof.

“A spear?” she asked. The entire thing was made of dark metal shot through with veins of silver. Behind the sharp head, a tangle of metal like wrapped sheets of foil bent around the shaft. As if responding to her touch, it unfolded like a steel flower into twin heads of a battleaxe.

“It was Nightmare Moon’s weapon,” Thorax said. “A legendary, enchanted weapon named--”

“I’m gonna call it Carvin’ Marvin,” Dust decided.

Sunset jumped, kicking off the back of a charging Iron Pegasus and flipping in the air, taking aim and--

She caught a flash to her left, and turned her attack spell into a burst of force, deflecting a shot from another one of the six machines. Sunset landed heavily, her hooves skidding on gravel as she came to a stop, the clockwork constructs in a ring around her and preventing easy escape.

“Cute, but you’re still just machines,” she said. She flicked her hoof to the side, her star sabre spell activating and creating a blazing red beam. Sunset charged at the nearest of them, and it threw a shield in her path.

Sunset vanished. A flash of light appeared behind the Iron Pegasus, and she reappeared, slicing through its neck before it could react.

“If you can’t even handle teleportation, you’re never going to get very far against me.”

A second unit flew at her, a rune-covered sword snapping into place from a recessed sheath along its foreleg. Sunset blocked the attack, the enchanted edge of the golem’s weapon stopping her spell from cutting through. Their blades locked.

Sunset smiled and raised her other hoof, creating a second star sabre and stabbing it into the Iron Pegasus’ body and pulling sideways, opening up a huge rent filled with sparks.

“I can’t be beaten by a doll!” Sunset yelled. She threw the disabled machine into one of its allies, following it up with a spell that blasted a red-hot hole through both of them.

Stabilizers snapped into the ground and armor plates shifted, Sunset’s wings spreading wide and glowing with heat. The air around her shimmered like a desert mirage. “I have magic you’ve never even dreamed of!”

The remaining three units came together, a shield wall snapping into place.

Sunset’s spell hit them like a solar flare, their shields flickering and failing against the incredible heat. Two of them fell in cherry-red heaps, armor starting to deform and run, venting steam from ruptured plumbing.

The last Iron Pegasus dropped its shield and held up its sword as if challenging Sunset.

“You’re not even a warm-up!” Sunset yelled. She flapped her wings, kicking up off the ground and pointing her prosthetic leg at the machine. Energy surrounded her hoof, and it tore free, rocketing into the mute construct and punching straight through it.

The Iron Pegasus fell, and Sunset’s hoof flew through the air back to her, snapping into place.

“If that’s all you’ve got, I might be able to clock out early today,” Sunset said.

Lightning Dust adjusted her helmet. Thorax was talking at her side. She could barely hear him with all the seals engaged. Two dozen changelings worked in pairs to create a series of rings in a gently curving line. Each one was made entirely of magic, circles of fire hovering in midair like the most ambitious carnival trick ever attempted.

“So all I have to do is fly through the rings, right?” Dust asked, interrupting whatever safety lecture he was giving.

“They’re telekinetic boosters,” Thorax said. “It’s how we got the ore back to Equestria. We’d load it into a crate and throw it. Usually, that would be enough to get it to Equestria in about three days.”

“It didn’t take three days to get here.”

“You were going a lot faster than we can throw a box. The faster you’re going when you hit the first ring, the more it’ll boost you. Either you’ll be going so fast you’ll be back on Equestria before you know it, or you’ll be torn limb from limb by the force.”

“You’d be amazed what I can survive,” Dust said. She cracked her neck.

“Good luck,” Thorax said. “And… try not to forget about us. It’s been fun on the moon but it’d be nice to get back.”

“Can’t you go back this way?”

“Some of us would need to stay here to keep the mass driver going. We also haven’t really been brave enough to try it. None of us are willing to risk the whole ‘ripped limb from limb’ thing.”

Dust grinned. “I’ll let you know what the ride is like. You better stand back, just in case.”

Thorax took a few steps back. Dust motioned for him to move more. He stepped back more. Then behind a chest-high rock wall.

Dust raised her wings, letting green lightning crackle along the edges, the same color as the rings ahead of her. She dug her hooves into the regolith, took a deep breath.

On the exhale, she moved. The air split. The ground under her hooves cracked and broke away. Dust hit the first ring. For an instant, her head was moving faster than her body. She could feel the force trying to pull her apart. The changelings holding the ring were blown away by the sonic boom.

She hit the second ring before the hypersonic shockwave could knock the next set of changelings over, before their reaction time would even let them flinch. The bone-creaking force hit her again. The next ring. And the next. Only a second had gone by. The air was burning around her.

The pressure vanished as she hit the edge of the air pocket and rocketed away, the moon’s gravity giving up the fight.

“Hold on guys,” Dust whispered. “I’m coming!”

“Your highness, the magi are signaling a warning!”

Celestia looked away from the armored windows of the flagship’s command deck. Below them, Sunset was making short work of the improved Iron Pegasus units.

“Thank you, Lieutenant, but I can see well enough,” she muttered, an edge to her voice. “Tell Flim that I am less than impressed with his creations. I was expecting more.”

“I believe it’s Flam, Ma’am, but that’s not the problem. They’re reporting incoming long-range teleportation effects!”

Celestia frowned and cast several detection spells of her own, frowning at the results. Tracing teleportation spells was a difficult process even in good conditions, and in the middle of a battlefield it was practically impossible. Her concentration wasn’t helped when the first spell opened up and a boulder rocketed out of nowhere, slamming into the window in front of her.

The whole ship shuddered and the armored window shattered, shards of glass raining over the crew.

“Where did that come from?!” General Nickel yelled. “They don’t have any artillery!”

“The teleportation spells. They must have built a portal trebuchet.” Celestia caught the looks the bridge crew gave each other and had to remind herself that she was among ponies whose chief accomplishment in life involved being assigned to the safest posting in the war. “It’s a theoretical weapon, essentially redirecting objects falling from a great height by teleporting them before they would land.”

“We need to get out of range,” General Nickel said. “Engines to full!”

“It’s an all-range attack. As long as they have accurate targeting information they can attack us from anywhere. The facility could be a hundred miles away.” The ship rocked again as another boulder slammed into it at an oblique angle. The wind rushed past Celestia as she watched one rock after another slam into the assembled fleet, knocking out one ship after another.

“How do we defend against it?” the General asked.

“Order all ships to fire on the Shining Armor,” Celestia said. “It’s providing the targeting data.”

“How can you tell?”

“It’s the only ship not under attack.”

“All this because Celestia decided the best way to handle Sparkle was to crush her and make her beg.” Sunset shook her head. “She should’ve known better. It wouldn’t work on me and that pony’s even crazier than I am.”

Above her, ships moved in slow spirals, trailing smoke. The flagship turned, and Sunset threw up a shield on instinct. The ship threw out a barrage of spells, but instead of landing on her barrier, they lanced across the sky toward an unassuming ship at the rear of the formation.

Just before reaching it, a blue light deflected the attack, scattering the spells.

Sunset narrowed her eye. “Is that Cadance's magic? I guess nopony is sitting this one out. I’d better give her a hoof before she messes something up.”

She spread her wings, and a steel thorn the general size and shape of a railroad spike tore through the feathers on her left side, bronze quills ripping out of the prosthetic in a shower of sparks. Sunset stumbled forward, twisting on her good leg and turning the motion into a spin to face her enemy.

One of the Iron Pegasus units lurched to its hooves like a puppet with half its strings cut. As she watched, the rent metal twisted back into shape, clockwork snapping together. The six units surrounded her again, wounds sealing with flashes of multicolored light.

“That’s new,” Sunset muttered, trying to block out her own pain.

“What do you think?” A voice came out of all six at nearly the same time, echoing around her. “I’ve surpassed what Doctor Sparkle made!”

“Flam, I presume,” Sunset said.

“Flim!” he snapped.

“Sorry, you two are just so alike,” Sunset said, turning slowly and trying to figure out which was going to rush her first. “You’re both second-rate engineers who died an early death. You almost escaped that fate but then you decided to mess with me.”

“I haven’t even begun,” Flim said. “The Elemental Engine has a peak output even higher than your Engine Heart, and it’s a six on one fight!”

“Please. It’s like six foals against an adult.” Sunset squared her shoulders, igniting her star sabre. “I’ll just break them again and again until they can’t be fixed anymore!”

The glow around the constructs grew brighter, and Sunset felt something, like her heart skipped a beat. In an instant, the pressure around her grew to bone-crushing force. She fell to her knees and the air filled with an aurora swirling in a slow tornado around her, shining with all the colors of the rainbow.

She could feel it, something trying to force its way into her, pressing against her mind and heart and magic.

Sunset spread her wings, trying to get to her hooves, filled with primal flight or fight instinct.

Her right wing exploded, tearing apart at the joint. Wires and shattered pneumatics rained down around her.

She screamed, collapsing.

Doctor Sparkle looked up at Nightmare Moon, hanging from the ceiling of the cavern like a butterfly ready to emerge at any moment.

“This isn’t how I wanted all of this to turn out,” she whispered.

Moondancer poured a cup of lukewarm tea into a tin cup, holding it out to her.

Sparkle took it on instinct, just holding it.

“I thought I could make Celestia understand. I thought she’d see me save the world and she’d admit I was right all along.” The unicorn laughed bitterly. “She just wants to bury me and my research, and all I can think to do is help her by crawling into the deepest, darkest hole I can find.”

“This is the most secure part of the lab,” Moondancer muttered.

“Yes, it’s technically a bunker, but it’s still a hole in the ground,” Sparkle said.

“There’s nothing we can do now except wait.”

“Nothing we can do…” Sparkle muttered.

“We should plan what we’re going to do when Celestia gets down here,” Moondancer said. “Maybe if we just surrender, she’ll be merciful. We’d probably be put under arrest for the rest of our lives, but…”

“You said when, not if,” Sparkle said.

“Twilight, I love you, but you’re an idiot. What was your plan? What’s your endgame here? Overthrow Celestia? Destroy Equestria?”

“I tried to negotiate! She attacked!” Twilight snapped. “I didn’t choose this! I know Sunset can’t beat her! I know! And Marble is either useless or more dangerous to us than our enemy! And Lightning Dust…”

Doctor Sparkle shrugged.

“And there’s nothing I can do to help them. We’re stuck down here with nothing but cold tea and…” Sparkle looked up.

“What is it?” Moondancer asked.

“Nightmare Moon,” Sparkle said. “Maybe that’s the answer.”

“That sounds more like an additional problem rather than an answer.”

“No, listen! The Engine Hearts resonate with her power. We used her magic and leyline patterns to design them. If we cause a magical flare, they’ll pick up on it, like the antenna in a radio! It could act as a power boost!”

“That sounds absurdly dangerous,” Moondancer said.

“It is. Are you going to help me, or am I going to do it alone?”

Moondancer sighed. “Okay, what do I need to do?”

Rainbow Dash jumped, throwing herself into a wall to avoid a beam of magical force. The changeling that had fired it hissed and dropped the wire-covered weapon it had fired, sparks erupting from poorly-shielded wires.

“Maud, take it out!” Dash yelled.

A hoof-sized rock smashed through the weapon the changeling held, something inside the rifle exploding with a burst of multicolored sparks and sending shrapnel across the corridor. The changeling fell in an ichor-covered heap.

“This is nuts,” Dash said, taking Ensign Ricky’s hoof to help her stand. “No briefing, no plan, no intel! It’s a feathering bug hunt and the bugs are better equipped than we are!”

“Should we pull back?” Maud asked.

“I don’t think anypony else got this far,” Dash said. “And… I kinda want us to be the ones to find your sister. Maybe we can talk her down and end this without hurting her.”

“I hope so,” Maud said.

Ensign Ricky moved to the next turn while they spoke, peeking around the corner.

“This place is a mess,” Dash mumbled. A steel security door was lying against the wall, burned and ripped by huge claws.

“This damage is weeks old,” Maud said. “You can see how the exposed surfaces started to rust.” She pointed, not that Dash could really make anything out.

“I’ll take your word for it. Think the changelings did that when they took this place over? I bet the real mission is a rescue mission and we’re gonna find everypony tied up in the basement.”

“Shhhh!” Ensign Ricky hissed. “We’ve got movement!”

Dash went silent and pressed flat against the wall, digging a throwing knife out of her combat webbing.

“We’re not gonna take chances,” she whispered. “On three we take the corner and hit anything that moves. No warning, lethal force. You ready?”

Maud and Ricky nodded.

“One… three!” Dash, Maud, and Ricky moved like the well-trained unit they were, even with a missing mare in the formation. They took the corner, saw something massive and angular, and attacked.

Ricky’s stone went wide. Maud’s slammed into the thing’s head, just enough to keep it from casting any kind of shield spell.

Dash’s throwing knife hit the second, smaller target that jumped between them.

Sunburst crumpled to his knees, looking at the knife in his chest. Blood poured onto the ground, red and steaming and a stark contrast to the ichor a changeling bled.

“Oh buck,” Dash whispered.

Celestia was almost thrown off her hooves when the deck listed under her. The entire hull rang like a bell, a shockwave cracking every pane of armored glass at the same time.

“What was that?!” she demanded. “Are the magi still suppressing teleportation?!”

“It wasn’t their portal weapon, Ma’am!” the comm officer yelled, straining to be heard over the echoing thunder and the wind rushing through the violated hull. “Damage control is reporting a meteor strike!”

“A meteor?!”

Dust stumbled through the smoke, trying to find her footing in the heavier gravity. Her armor’s paint was burned charcoal black, the silver cloak tattered around her and still burning at the edges.

She pulled herself out of the crater she’d made and cracked open her faceplate, taking deep breaths of the sweet, fresh air.

“Hey! I made it!” Dust said, happily surprised. “Good thing I aimed for this ship. It was a softer landing than the ground.”

She looked around, the world slowly spinning as the ship under her listed from one side to another.

“I hope I’m in the right place.”

Alarms sounded around her. A fireball flashed past her head and a team of pegasus ponies took to the sky, aiming at her with weapons drawn.

“Oh good,” Dust said. She drew Carvin Marvin, flicking it out to the side. The variable blade expanded into a double-headed axe. “I was worried I’d gotten lost.”

Marble knelt down, holding Sunburst. He gasped, sucking in air like he couldn’t fill his lungs, his life spilling over Marble’s hooves and onto the floor in time with his heartbeat.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I really messed up…”

Marble sniffled, wiping at her eyes. She shook her head wordlessly.

Behind her, the three ponies argued in harsh hisses and pointed hooves before Dash ran out of patience and hovered over to Marble.

“Okay look, this whole situation is bucked up,” Dash said, scratching her head. “We’ve got medics. If you surrender we can get him out there and maybe they can-”

Dash stopped talking when a magical grip snapped tight around her neck, slowly strangling her.

Marble stood up. Sunburst was limp, his chest still.

“You killed him,” she growled, the edges of her mane starting to move on their own.

“Put Rainbow down!” Ricky ordered. He raised his crossbow.

Maud grabbed for him, trying to shove the weapon to the side. A wave of force slammed through the space like a freight train. Maud’s reaching forehooves caught the edge of it. Ricky hit the far wall hard enough that he ended up painting it.

Maud fell, her forelegs crumpling under her like empty shirt sleeves. She made a pained, choked gasp before passing out.

“Stop it!” Dash demanded, using the last of her breath, trying to struggle free.

Marble glared at her. She tore the knife from Sunburst’s side.

“You should have this back,” Marble hissed through clenched teeth, slamming it home in Dash’s skull, just off-center, before tossing her aside in a twitching heap.

It was the weight of all her sins. The weight of the whole world bearing down on her. The magical pressure was so high it threatened to crush her leylines. It would have, if she was a normal pony.

The crushing force on her mind and body was so much it made Sunset want to give up, to lie there and let go, close her eyes and wait for the world to be in a better place. It was the feeling of being in bed on a cold day, a fever burning in your chest and your head pounding. Even thinking of standing up was too much.

And yet everything started to swell, her whole body singing and resonating with an insistence greater than any alarm clock.

“Can’t a girl get any rest around here?” Sunset mumbled. Her whole body shook with weakness, and when she got her legs under her they threatened to fold instantly, numb with the terrible effort. Her prosthetic shifted and changed, spikes driving into the ground to stabilize her and root her in place.

One of the six units suddenly dropped, a black spear impaled through its body. A cloaked figure slammed into it a moment later, grabbing the spear with armored hooves and twisting, the spear growing spikes and tearing the wound open as she ripped it free. The pressure released, and Sunset almost fell over again from the change.

“How’s it hanging?” Lightning Dust asked.

“I thought you were dead,” Sunset said. “Where were you?”

“The Moon,” Dust said, casually, planting her weapon’s tip in the ground and leaning on it. “It was pretty cool. You miss me?”

“You know, it’s funny. I actually did miss you.” Sunset smiled.

“Want a hoof with these guys? I could use a stretch.” Dust batted a steel spike to the side with her polearm, wide axe blades snapping into place to act like a tennis racquet.

“Usually I’d tell you to go to Tartarus and take care of it myself,” Sunset said. “But I’ll do you a favor and let you help. I need to save my good stuff for Celestia anyway.”

“You gonna be able to keep up with your wings messed up like that?”

“Who do you think I am?” Sunset smirked. She spread what was left of her wings, stripped to the metal bones on one side and just a stump on the other. They exploded from within, wings of light emerging from her back, the remaining bronze orbiting the glowing constructs. “Let’s do this.”

“That last hit from above broke every hydraulic line in the keel,” the Captain reported, saluting and not looking directly at Celestia. “We can’t do anything except try to put her down gently. She’s sunk and just doesn’t know it yet.”

“I should never have tried relying on all of you,” Celestia muttered.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” the stallion said, close to tears.

“No, don’t--” Celestia sighed. “It’s not your fault. I meant that I’ve used you poorly. Ponies lost their lives today and it’s my mistake that killed them. A show of overwhelming force would have worked anywhere else, against any other pony. All I’ve done here is drive a dangerous animal into a corner and forced it to bite instead of flee.”

The Captain kept saluting, saying nothing.

“Order all hooves to abandon ship,” Celestia said. “That includes you, Captain. If you try and go down with the ship I’ll drag you out myself.”

“But what are you going to do, Ma’am?”

“I’m going to do what I should have done in the first place and face them myself.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Dust asked. “I remember you having like, twice as many limbs”

She ducked under a blade made of equal parts fire and steel without even looking at it, kicking backwards and flipping over to cleave through the limb holding said blade.

“It’s a little late to be worried now,” Sunset retorted. “Do you know how many monsters I had to fight practically on my own after you vanished?”

Sunset threw a wave of entropy and wind at one of the Type Six units, the metal discoloring and starting to freeze up as rust ate away at the steel plates, going right through every protective enchantment it had.

“You had Marble here! Besides, I’m more concerned about, you know. Flight characteristics.”

Dust glanced back at Sunset and gave a small nod. They charged at a third unit together, Sunset teleporting behind it at the last moment and impaling it with her prosthetic hoof, the limb twisting into a bladed drill and slicing through its insides. Dust’s axe slammed into its exposed midsection, cutting it in two.

“Owch. Now you’re insulting my wings?”

Sunset teleported again before one of the last two units connected with its attack, spikes launching into the bisected Iron Pegasus instead of the intended target.

“You don’t have wings. You’ve got a few bits of wings and a lot of glowing lines. You’ve got no feathering control surfaces!”

Dust zipped, cracking past the speed of sound to cut deep wounds into the confused clockwork construct, half-frozen trying to figure out what to do after attacking one of its own.

“Okay, yes, it’s a little bit like maneuvering with rockets instead of wings, but I’ve got it under control!”

The last Iron Pegasus deflected a spell blast from Sunset and started glowing. All five damaged units put themselves back together, staggering back to their hooves and self-repairing until they were as good as new.

“This reminds me of something,” Dust said, retreating back to where Sunset was firing from. She raised a barrier to protect them while the Iron Pegasus units regrouped.

“The twins?” Sunset asked. “The Linnorms that healed each other?”

“Yeah!” Dust pointed with her axe. “Think we can take all of them out at once?”

“It’s going to be hard to catch all six with just the two of us.”

Behind them, the armored wall of the lab exploded, the rubble hovering in midair on a thousand strands of magic the dark blue color of the night sky. Marble stomped out, cheeks streaked with tears and blood splattered across her armor. The look on her face could have turned a cockatrice to stone.

“Well that’s convenient,” Dust said, waving. “Hey, Marble! I’m not dead!”

Marble turned to look at the noise and her expression softened in surprise.

“You’re back?” Marble walked over to her friends, her terrifying mein dissolving. A barrage of steel bolts ripped through the air and shattered against her barrier without the earth pony even noticing. “I thought… you were…”

“I couldn’t leave you hanging when you needed me,” Dust said. “Are you okay? You looked…”

“Sunburst…” Marble shook her head, unable to continue.

Dust frowned. “Sorry.”

“If you want revenge, step one is breaking Celestia’s annoying toys,” Sunset cut in. “They’re persistent, I’ll give them that.”

Marble glanced up at the circling constructs.

“They repair each other magically,” Dust explained. “Sunset thinks if we break all of them at once, they won’t be able to revive. It was gonna be tricky doing that with just two of us, but if you’re here we can definitely do it, no problem!”

“Three of us can pin them down,” Sunset agreed. “Here’s the plan - spread out into a triangle and keep them between us. Then, uh…” she hesitated. “Improvise. Sorry. I’m still not amazing at this whole teamwork thing.”

“That’s okay!” Dust patted her on the back. “I’m terrible at taking orders anyway. It’s in all my official reports. And Marble’s haunted!”

“Mm.” Marble frowned but couldn’t really disagree.

Dust put out her hoof. “Okay, everypony! Hooves in!”

“Are we-- are you trying to do a team thing?” Sunset groaned. “Really?”

Marble sighed and just stuck her hoof on top of Dust’s. Dust looked at Sunset and wiggled her eyebrows. “The Wonderbolts would have done it.”

“Fine! Whatever!” Sunset put her hoof in.

“Do we have a team name?” Dust whispered. Marble shook her head. “We really should have come up with a name.”

“The only thing we need to do is get Princess Celestia,” Sunset said. “Then the rest will work out for itself.”

“Okay! Team Get-Her! On three! One… three!” As one very reluctant team, they raised their hooves in what would be a triumphant team-building gesture if they weren’t, if one pardons the Prench, a bunch of jerks.

Dust did a backflip, like she did every day of her life, and started circling around the Iron Pegasus units to one side. Sunset did the same, relying more on short bursts of teleportation than wingpower to get her around the machines.

“Let’s start with some heavy weather!” Sunset yelled, skidding to a halt and digging her hooves into the ground for leverage. Her horn flashed, sparks running from base to tip and cracking into the sky as neon-green lightning. The clouds that had shielded the airship fleet from view started curling down, forming a hook and then twisting in a spiral towards the ground, the vortex filled with arcane energy that lit it from within.

The Iron Pegasus units were just machines but they weren’t stupid enough machines not to notice doom coming down on them. They spread their wings to take flight and tendrils of darkness grabbed then from the shadows, wrapping them up like a net.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Marble growled. Her mane had lengthened down past her hooves, down into a puddle of gloom that had formed around her fetlocks in defiance of the light of day.

The tornado came down on the Iron Pegasi, tearing them off the ground one by one and slamming them into each other, metal bending and twisting as the force of the wind and magic squeezed them into a ball.

Dust nodded and took off, straight up, disappearing into the clouds.

“Where in Tartarus is Dust going?” Sunset yelled over the tempest.

Dust burst through the storm layer right in the center of the tornado, following the calm center of the twisting vortex and holding Carvin’ Marvin in both hooves, the black blade transformed into an axe with a head broader than her wingspan. She put on a burst of speed and the tornado exploded behind her from the supersonic shockwave, the pegasus spinning despite the wind resistance and G-force to slam her axe into the house-sized mass of metal and sorcery.

The sphere fell neatly in half, six twinking gems erupting from ruptured casings and landing in the dirt around Dust when she touched down.

“Sorted,” Dust said.

“Not bad,” Sunset admitted, landing heavily next to her. “I mean it was all that fancy weapon, but you’re quite a tool yourself!”

Dust smiled. “Thanks, I-- heeey…”

Sunset punched her shoulder. “I’m kidding.”

Marble slowly made her way over, her heavy armor weighing her down. “What’s next?” she whispered, looking equal parts tired and angry.

From above, a sound rang out like thunder. Slow, mocking, repeated claps of thunder. The temperature around the three ponies increased, everything growing brighter.

“I have to admit, I underestimated you badly,” Princess Celestia said, hovering high above and slowly applauding. Her voice had the bass-boosted rumble of magical enhancement. Golden armor wrapped around her form, thin but with the sheen of orichalcum that implied it was quite unbreakable. “Doctor Sparkle made claims that I thought were impossible, and I was wrong to dismiss her. Each of you really is worth an entire army.”

“What’s the plan for beating her?” Dust whispered.

“You don’t have to whisper, she can’t hear us from up there,” Sunset said.

“I can hear you,” Celestia corrected. “I might have underestimated you, but you’ve also always been mistaken about me, Sunset. You were my most ambitious student, but in some ways the most disappointing.”

Sunset narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t,” Marble said. “She’s just trying to make you angry.”

“It’s working,” Sunset said.

“It ends here,” Celestia said. “I need to safeguard Equestria. You can’t even imagine how much chaos you’ll cause just by existing.”

“We won your war!” Sunset snapped. “I killed Sombra myself!”

“You did?” Dust asked, quietly.

Sunset nodded. “Yeah, it was a whole thing with him being in disguise and then betraying us and this big fight at the end. You really missed a lot, didn’t you?”

“Apparently I missed all the cool parts!” Dust groaned.

“I know,” Celestia said. “I wish your contributions and sacrifices could be public. For the sake of the future, they can’t be. Nothing that happens here today will be recorded in history. All this suffering, all this tragedy, it has to happen so ponies a century from now can live under the sun unburdened by the sins of the past.”

“You can’t do that!” Marble snapped, her mane moving in angry waves. “You can’t just make them forget me!”

“I’ve done it before, to somepony I loved,” Celestia said. “This will be easier.”

A beam of spellfire lanced through the air at her, and just stopped a hoof-width away from her, vibrating in place in the air. Sunset grunted, her horn blazing, trying to force it closer. Celestia glanced at her, and in that moment of apparent distraction, Dust got behind her, swinging the giant blade she was holding down even before the sonic boom of her motion had started ruffling Celestia’s feathers.

It stopped behind the Princess’ head, fixed in place in the air like she’d driven it into stone.

“That doesn’t belong to you,” Celestia said, still appearing totally at ease.

Black tendrils wrapped around her right hoof, and Marble strained, trying to throw her off-balance. Celestia effortlessly raised her leg, lifting the earth pony off the ground by her mane.

“The only reason the three of you were needed to fight in the war at all was because I was being merciful,” Celestia said, holding all of them in place. “I could have ended it in a day if I was willing to sacrifice thousands of innocent ponies. I could have turned the Crystal Empire into a frozen grave and nopony in Equestria would even know it had returned. I didn’t, because I am a kind and merciful pony. I give ponies second chances. Third chances. That time is over.”

Above the Princess, the sky tore open and a boulder punched out of the rift in space. Celestia glanced up in surprise and let go of the three ponies, firing a bolt of solar energy up at the rock and shattering it into a rain of pebbles.

The bolt hanging in the air fizzled out, and Dust scrambled back under the cover of the smokescreen. Marble dropped to the ground, groaning and limping away from Celestia.

“I don’t know who’s throwing those rocks through portals but I really like their style,” Dust said.

“I’d like it more if they did anything to her,” Sunset said when Dust and Marble got to her side. She was breathing heavily, sweat pouring down her neck.

“I’m starting to think I was safer on the moon,” Dust said.

“She doesn’t deal well with surprises,” Marble said, her voice firm. “She was watching us fight the constructs.”

“So we have to do something she’s never seen before?” Sunset asked. “No problem.”

“If there’s one thing we’re good at, it’s making things up in a pinch,” Dust agreed.

Marble nodded. “Mm. Follow my lead.”

Celestia cleared the air with a burst of golden magic, the dust exploding away from her and leaving her pristine and annoyed. “Is it too much to ask that you have a little dignity?” she asked.

Marble’s response was already on the way. A chunk of rubble wrapped in her magic streaked towards Celestia. The alicorn split it in half with a wave of her hoof, intending to use the absolute minimum energy necessary.

Carvin Marvin erupted from the cracking rubble, Dust emerging from right behind the broken rubble to slam the weapon into Celestia, the alicorn flinching back in surprise and barely holding the weapon back, visibly straining.

Sunset burst up out of Dust’s jet stream, firing a bolt of black magic right through Celestia’s defenses. It hit her full in the face, sparks flying from the impact.

Celestia slipped back an inch.

Dust strained, Carvin Marvin twisting into a needle-sharp lance and slowly piercing the magic between it and Celestia, the air warping from the force of the shield.

Sunset put every ounce of power she had into her spell. Her wings of light flickered.

“ENOUGH!” Celestia bellowed. A wave of force threw Sunset and Dust back, flinging them away.

Marble grabbed them out of the air with her animated mane just before they would have had an unfortunate crash landing.

Celestia touched her cheek with a hoof. A single bead of red stained her armor when she looked at it.

“All that for a drop of blood,” she muttered.

Her horn blazed brighter than the sun.

“We’re getting a reading,” Moondancer said. “Whatever’s going on, all three of them are using so much magic we can detect it from here.”

“Perfect,” Doctor Sparkle said. She grunted and hefted a steel probe, shoving it into the hanging chrysalis as deeply as she could. “Get me the exact frequencies.”

“They’re on screen three,” Moondancer said. “Doctor… Twilight, I don’t think this is a good idea.” She looked at her mentor. “I ran the numbers. I know you did, too. Even if we can keep things from going out of control, that much thaumatic radiation--”

“I know,” Doctor Sparkle said. She paused, then sighed. “The localized effects…”

“Organic tissue can’t survive,” Moondancer said. “Anything living would be alchemically rendered.”

Sparkle looked at the screens in front of her. “You’ve seen the same things I have, Moondancer. Signs and portents. The Cloudsdale Report. The rumors from Ponyville. Lightning Dust’s vision! Everything Celestia has been doing to stop me!”

“I’ve seen it,” Moondancer whispered. “But what if it’s not fate? It could just be one possible future, not our destiny. Not… your destiny.”

Doctor Sparkle laughed.

“It’s not funny, Twilight,” Moondancer said. “And even if all those things are true, I wasn’t in any of those futures. What does that mean for me?”

“I wasn’t laughing at you. I’m sorry.” Doctor Sparkle walked over to her oldest, best friend still in the world, and put a hoof on her shoulder. “I’ve seen it twice, Moondancer. Once when my heart stopped, once when Sunset came so close to ascending in Canterlot. We’re on a knife-edge between stagnation and growth. If we do nothing, the world will end. Not with a bang, but like a carefully tended bonsai tree. Stunted and tiny and beautiful in its own way. If we fight for it, and we go the other way. We fight for our future, and we never stop fighting. There will be beauty, but also struggle, and death, and horror. It means leaving the garden and entering the jungle.”

“You’re being awfully poetic,” Moondancer said, shaking just a little.

“I’ve had the conversation before. With a mirror. When it gets really late at night, sometimes I like to imagine I’m talking to Celestia, or my Dad, or Shining Armor, and I try to explain why I do what I do,” Doctor Sparkle said. “I know I won’t get the chance but I wish I could… I wish I could get them to forgive me.”

“You know I’ll always be there for you,” Moondancer said.

“Yeah,” Twilight smiled. “That’s why I want you to go. The radiation is going to be deadly. I want you to go back to the Core Assembly Room. That place is shielded better than anywhere else in the lab. You’ll be safe there.”

“Me? What about you?”

“I’m going to trust in destiny one more time,” Doctor Sparkle said. “I choose whatever happens to me. Life or death. I’ll risk it with the rest of Equestria.”

She kissed Moondancer on the cheek.

“In case I don’t make it back,” she said. “Now go!”

The Shining Armor rocked, nearly throwing Cadance off her hooves.

“What’s going on?” Cadance asked. The changelings worked in near-silence.

“We’re taking fire from the rest of the fleet,” Chrysalis said, narrowing her eyes. “The idiots decided they’d shoot at us all the way down instead of evacuating their ships.”

“What? Why? If their airships are crashing--”

“Because Celestia ordered it!” Chrysalis snapped. “They’d die for her. More importantly, they’ll kill for her. That’s the part she cares about right now.” She furrowed her brow and walked over to the armored bridge windows, looking outside.

“You know, I’m just going to keep asking questions if you don’t explain things as they’re happening,” Cadance said, following the changeling queen over to look.

The largest ship in the fleet was wreathed in golden light, and was slowly turning, its fall lurching to a halt.

“That’s the Sunny Day,” Cadance said. “Why is it glowing like that?”

“Celestia,” Chrysalis muttered.

“She can’t levitate something that big!” Cadance protested. “It’s impossible!”

“She literally makes the sun rise. A boat isn’t nearly as difficult. We’re changing course. Get us between that ship and the lab and direct whatever we have left at it.”

Cadance looked confused. “Why? I already saw the lifeboats launch. They evacuated.”

“Because she’s decided she needs a bigger boot to squash the bugs,” Chrysalis said.

“I’m going out there to help them,” Cadance said. “They can’t fight her alone.”

“Neither can you,” Chrysalis said.

“No, but maybe we could if we had help from somepony with experience at fighting Celestia?” Cadance asked, offering Chrysalis her hoof.

“I always lost,” Chrysalis reminded her.

“You were alone before,” Cadance said. “This time, we’re all in it together.”

“Oh that’s not good,” Dust said, watching the Sunny Day shiver and lurch higher, the stern creaking and shifting as the broken airship started to move, the structure twisting as it was forced sideways with the keel already snapped in two.

“Even if we run, it’s going to crush the lab,” Sunset said. “That insane bitch…”

Celestia’s voice echoed around them. “Language, Sunset. I taught you better than that.” She swung her head around, and the massive airship screamed with the sound of tearing metal. The air parted around it, a shockwave forming on the crumpled bow as it accelerated.

“We have to stop it!” Dust yelled, taking off.

“Where are you--” Sunset started, before taking off after her.

Marble just groaned with frustration. “Idiots,” she mumbled.

Dust slammed into the ship shoulder-first. “I can push this giant hunk of metal! No problem!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Sunset yelled. She hit the ship next to Dust, straining with the effort to even keep herself in place. “You don’t even know what you’re doing! If you just do it with your hooves all you’ll do is fly right through the ship’s hull from the force!”

“You never know until you try!” Dust yelled, over the rushing wind. Her hooves sank in an inch, metal crumpling under her. “Besides, Celestia was able to throw it!”

“That’s because she used magic to spread the force out over the whole ship, and it still caused a ton of damage!” Sunset shouted, her hooves slipping for a moment as she fought to hold on.

“Then maybe you can try helping!” Dust retorted. “I didn’t think you were all talk!”

Sunset scoffed and smiled. Red light spread out from her horn, a shield forming around what was left of the Sunny Day’s front end. “My magic isn’t just for show!”

Dust grunted and flew harder, trying to slow the airship’s descent. With Sunset dispersing the force, she stopped sinking in. But it wasn’t enough. The ship wasn’t even slowing down.

Black talons bigger than she was slammed into the hull to either side of her. Dust looked down, and Marble nodded from the ground, her artificial horn white-hot as she fought with every inch of power she had left.

“It’s not working!” Sunset growled through gritted teeth. “We’re slowing it down but she’s still pushing!”

Blue light reinforced Sunset’s shield, and Cadance pressed against the ship next to her, flapping hard. “You look like you could use some help!”

“What are you doing here?!” Sunset demanded. “You’re going to get killed!”

“Lots of ponies are getting killed,” Cadance said. “I won’t hide while it happens!”

“This is a terrible idea!” Chrysalis buzzed, landing lightly on the ship and sticking to it before applying her own magic. “We don’t have nearly as much power as she does!”

“You still came to help!” Cadance reminded her.

“That’s because bad ideas are infectious!” Chrysalis yelled.

“Shut up and push!” Dust screamed. “We can do it! Everypony together!”

Around them, the air vibrated with magic, like notes coming together to play a chord.

“Resonance,” Sparkle whispered, watching the readings come together. “Just like before, but with all of them at once.”

She looked at the other monitor. The one watching the sleeping alicorn. The thaumatic waves were like a heartbeat, and as she watched, they started beating in sync.

“Just like I predicted,” she said. “It’s all based on her leyline patterns. Like a hoofprint, or two tuning forks playing the same note…” Doctor Sparkle watched for a moment longer, her stomach twisting with doubt.

A flashing red light caught her attention. It was a warning, trying to tell her that what she was going to do was irreversible. Even the machines around her doubted Sparkle.

She grunted and forced herself to trot over to the manual override. She kicked the panel open and grabbed the bright red valve release. If she’d given herself time to sit there and think about it, about the weight behind the decision, she’d never have been able to pull it. Sparkle yanked it down.

Alarms blared, and the temperature in the room started to rise like somepony had turned it into an oven. Blue light began pouring from the chrysalis at the center of it all.

Sparkle shielded her eyes and walked over to the console, trying to read the displays.

“The power is doubling every second… oh, Moondancer, I wish you could see this.” She risked a glance at the alicorn, heat and cold washing over her skin in waves like night and day. Cracks started forming in the containment.

A crystal screen exploded. Doctor Sparkle didn’t even feel the cut that opened on her cheek from the shrapnel.

“It’s so beautiful,” she whispered.

The alicorn moved, and the light filled everything to bursting.

Author's Note

Most ponies don't matter. They dream tiny dreams and can't even achieve their goal of mediocrity.

When we speak of fighting against the current, or rising above the doubting masses, most ponies are that current, those doubters. They're the background noise of history. They come as close to not existing as is possible, just fixtures no more important or real than a single tree sketched into a painting of a forest.

My sister believes that the only thing that matters is base contentment and peace. As long as ponies are happy, it doesn't matter if things don't get better. She doesn't mourn for those that never had a chance to exist, for the great edifices and works that can never come to pass.

Unlike her, I have seen them whole. I've seen art that will never be made, because the painter developed a palsy and the only thing that remained of his skill was his beautiful mind. I've walked though buildings that will never be built because the materials and methods don't yet exist. I've eaten feasts that will never be cooked because the ingredients are too precious to gather.

I grieve these things that will never be born, because I've lived among their shadows. I've tasted the sorrow of their would-be creators. I think my sister is incapable of understanding it. It's why she's so slow to act, why she so stubbornly resists change. Until something is real, she doubts it can exist at all. She has no faith.

Alicorns are a unique existence. We bring energy into the universe. Our power boils the primordial sea of the world and makes things unseen bubble to the surface. Before my sister and I were born, there was no solar magic, no dream magic, because we are the source.

Fate chose us. Maybe we were always meant to be a part of the working of things.

Not you, though. You were chosen from the ranks of mortals, mortals never meant to ascend. It's the biggest dream I can imagine, and it brings me joy to be a part of it, even if I am decidedly not pleased with how I was made an unwilling participant.

It might be the final argument against my sister. To stand in the center of the world and shout "I" into the void and be answered by the universe itself.

My sister is all in. She cannot afford to lose this fight. She wants every day to be the same as the one preceding it, a perfect crystal in time that can endure forever against entropy and change. She will fail. Even if I am wrong, even if it is best for ponies to be content with what they have, I believe destiny cannot be so written in stone.

Neither my sister nor I know for certain that we're eternally, universally right. But we are old, and set in our ways. We can be nothing except what we are. You, though, have a choice.

You represent what ponies could become. It would mean everything if you could convince her that you are the path forward.

I truly value you. Each of you is a part of me. To my sister, you are an abomination, a flaw that has to be corrected. To me, you are majestic. Majestic. You are full of the only thing worth anything at all.

I am, by the only standard that matters or will ever matter, the winning team. Part of you must recognize that. You wouldn't struggle so against your fate if you didn't count yourself among the victorious few.

Will you join me? Will you help me overthrow what is and replace it with what comes next? Will you embrace change? Are you willing to let some few suffer so others can have even greater joy?

Don't hurry to deliver your answer. I'll come over and hear it myself.