The War in Heaven

by voroshilov

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, Science Fiction, Adventure, Violence, Death, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 119713

A failed space flight kickstarts a chain of events leading Twilight Sparkle and her friends to become embroiled in a war that will decide the fate of all of reality.

Equestria, despite its peaceful nature, has become the most important planet at the centre of the most vital war in the history of the Omniverse. Upon this most important planet, unbeknownst to herself, is the most important creature living, one who will shape the history of the War in Heaven.

Twilight and her friends will know pain, fear, and war. All of reality will be ripped from its foundations, as the greatest war in history is fought.

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and all of the trademarks that come with it are property of Hasbro.

CW: Death, Violence, surgical descriptions

Published 2020-05-12 17:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-11-27 21:52:19 UTC

Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria, there were two regal sisters, who ruled together and created harmony for all of the land.

But the sisters would turn against one another, plunging the magical land into war.

The war was short, for the eldest sister had the power of harmony, banishing the younger sister to the moon.

Her sister sealed on the moon, the eldest sister was left alone to rule.

A thousand years later…

Legend had it, the youngest sister would be freed from her imprisonment on the moon.

One thousand years to the day of her banishment, four stars, which had haloed the moon, vanished.

The stars had aided in her escape.

Or, so it seemed.

I. Prelude

“Amongst our ancestors there are numerous myths around key historical events. One of which is thus: the first of our kind to venture beyond our homeworld’s atmosphere remarked, ‘I see our world, by the ancients, it is beautiful. We must preserve this beauty for all.’”

- An Abridged History of Vortex, Volume III by Gaius Solum -

From the radio, barely audible through the pervasive static, was a sound Twilight had, days earlier, not known well at all: fear. Ponies were screaming orders back and forth, her CAPCOM had been issuing her meaningless tasks and trying to calm her nerves, whilst she herself had been staring with a numb feeling of worry at the quickly approaching planet.

"Alright Twilight," Octavia said, to the CAPCOM's merit, had remained outwardly calm in spite of the disaster occurring far above her, "if you could repeat the G-force you're measuring within." As she spoke, Twilight swore she heard a shout from a pony in the background, suggesting something about a 'total TPS failure' and a sudden rant about 'certain death' and 'massive detonation' that eased Twilight's fear of certain annihilation to no end.

"2.6," she said, a bare 0.2 increase from the previous time she checked, which was a few minutes earlier. Truth was, it was beginning to get unbearably cold, so much so that she began to fear a breach through the window. She wrapped herself further in her protective clothing, not that it would do anything to protect against the vacuum of space.

She thought back to the design phase - why hadn’t she designed a pressure suit? What had she been thinking? A goldfish bowl would do more to protect her than the few blankets and winter coats she had given herself.

It had been beautiful to see Equestria from miles above. Yet, all that ran through her mind as she descended was fear, fear of what could be. Fear of what, most likely, was going to be.

The capsule began to shake and jets of flame began to lick at its window. Even within, Twilight could feel herself beginning to burn, her breath, previously coming out in visible chunks, was suddenly barely coming out at all. The ice on the windows suddenly thawed, becoming liquid, and then evaporated a second later. The capsule rumbled and began to gyrate, Twilight could feel herself slipping into unconsciousness. Only her magic kept her awake, even as she wished for her deadly ordeal to end. All contact with the ground was lost, her radio didn't even release static, just a fatal silence.

Then, an impact rocked the capsule, stopping its turn and focusing it straight down. Twilight feared she had been struck by a meteor, perhaps Princess Luna had attempted a mercy killing. She closed her eyes, ignoring the outside and preparing for the inevitable explosion, only to be ripped from the realm of peace by further thumping. Were more meteors striking her? Twilight actually felt happy, for a brief moment, Princess Luna was still attempting her plan, she had not given up, for Twilight's sake, yet.

Twilight had, though she didn't really like to admit it, always been terrified of death. Not like the usual pony's fear, which was less an outright fear and more an unease, but acceptance, around the subject. Twilight however, having glimpsed what could be considered as the afterlife after a magical experiment involving an ancient spell and a misplaced magical gem, had developed an unnatural phobia of the mere idea of death. The simple mention of such was enough to make her blood freeze and limbs shake. Perhaps that could help to cool her down when she inevitably caught fire.

She opened her eyes, out of a mixture of some morbid curiosity and a wish for her final sight to be of home, no matter if she was tens of miles above it. When she did so, however, she was not met with the fire ringed windowed image of Equestria, but with a glowing cyan orb that seemed to bore into her very soul.

Twilight felt herself get lighter, then all feeling was suddenly lost from her body, her throat seized up and her eyes burned. Her vision darkened, slowly at first, but soon her eyes saw nothing but a tiny pinprick of swirling blue.

"No," came a voice inside her head, "no!" The voice shocked her out of her unconsciousness, for it was one constructed in its entirety from malice and cruelty. She had heard Tirek speak, his voice had a terrifying weight to it, that was a voice of an evil being, of that she could be certain. This, however, was different, it was the voice of evil itself. There was no middle-pony, no intermediary, this was evil: pure and undiluted. "This is not your time." The orb at the window pushed back, revealing itself to be one of three eyes mounted inside a head of segmented black bone. The creature to whom the head belonged was vast, easily dwarfing the capsule, and consisted of mostly the same substance as it's head: segmented black bone that was entirely unaffected by the searing heat outside.

It wrapped its wings around the capsule, plunging Twilight into an eerie semi-darkness. The dark red skin began to glow white, but no pain was visible on the creature's face, at least none Twilight could interpret. "I still need you," the voice said, the creature clearly moving its mouth as the voice spoke, revealing razor sharp fangs that slotted next to each other cleanly.

Suddenly, the capsule shunted and the shaking stopped. The creature outside, still grasping onto the capsule, opened its wings to reveal the rapidly approaching, but clearly visible surface. With a single mighty beat, the capsule jerked to a near halt; followed by a complete stop on another. Twilight was now, for all intents and purposes, floating.

The creature then released it's grip, sending the capsule tumbling down to the ground. Twilight's momentary shock-induced stupour was broken when she, acting on autopilot, activated the main parachute with a thump of a hoof. The parachute slowed down the capsule almost immediately, shunting Twilight upwards before her buckles forced her back down into the command seat. She landed with a thud in San Franciscolt Bay, the parachute flopping down next to the blackened capsule.

She breathed a sigh of intense relief, she had not only stared death right in the eye: she had defied it; Twilight Sparkle, first pony in space.

Something began to bubble near her hooves - something cold and wet.

Then came a thud from atop the capsule.

The metal roof, one Twilight had designed to protect against all manner of stresses and forces, was sliced apart by a three clawed hand, as a hot knife does with things a hot knife should never have come into contact with. The hand, larger than Twilight's body, reached in and grasped her in it's cold boney grip. She was lifted from the capsule, petrified of what she saw as her oncoming demise: for the second time that day, no less. The creature brought her close to it's naturally armoured chest, before spreading it's massive wings and taking flight to the shore.

The creature put her down on landing, facing her now sunken capsule with only the parachute a reminder of its existence. Twilight fell back onto her haunches, now certain in the knowledge that the universe was out to get her. Her mission, which had supposed to be a simple half-day long orbit of the planet, had so nearly ended in complete disaster twice. What was worse was the fact she had designed the entire vessel herself, along with all of it's equipment and the protocols necessary to pilot it safely. All of her hard work had not only failed spectacularly in the air but it now lay at the bottom of the bay.

"Yes," the creature's voice was both hissing and thunderous, "such a waste."

Twilight turned her head to it, now very confused by the situation. Had it just read her thoughts?

"Why is that so hard to believe? And I am no it," the creature said, clearly amused by her now frantic inner babbling, then answered her unspoken question "I am Nicholas, The Master of Time. And you are Twilight Sparkle, I have been watching you for a long while now."

“Oh,” she said, “I must have died.”

Nicholas, The Master of Time, bellowed out a laugh. “I am afraid not, young one. Some of us seem to have a knack for surviving.”

“I fell out of the sky,” she murmured, “we fell out of the sky. How did we do that?”

“With great ease,” Nicholas said, “gravity usually does most of the work in that regard.”

Twilight nodded, though she clearly had not properly processed what Nicholas had said. “There was a pony who told me it was impossible to go to space. Where is he now? Hmm? I went to space, then came back, and I brought a friend too, take that! Now I can write another friendship report.” She turned to a patch of pebbles beside her. “Spike,” she yelled, “take a letter.”

“Let us hope you break from this catatonia soon,” Nicholas said, watching Twilight dictate her rambling and entirely unstructured letter to an imaginary servant. “Hmm,” he hummed, allowing himself the chance to speak out to himself, “I wonder if there are any libraries around here.”

Twilight immediately snapped out of her catatonia. She stared at the titan Nicholas for a moment, seeming to test whether what she had heard was correct or not within her head. After a somewhat uncomfortable minute, she had decided it was and spoke, “libraries? You like libraries?”

Nicholas chuckled. “Indeed, he said, “I have the largest literary collection in existence.”

Twilight's initial recovery attempt had arrived in the form of a rescue ship, which had searched her landing area for all of a minute and a half before promptly fled upon seeing Nicholas. A second, far more sizeable, rescue force had arrived an hour later: in the form of a veritable army of guardsponies headed by Princess Celestia herself. The Princess had clearly been expecting a battle, clad all in golden armour and with a magical presence visible from miles away, but had frozen solid upon seeing Nicholas.

Then, she had bowed.

"Hail," said Celestia, whole body as low as it could possibly go, "mighty Lord of Time. I am but your humble servant."

Nicholas laughed, which caused even the most veteran guardsponies to go pale with terror. "Arise, Princess Celestia. This is no place to bury your face in the mud."

Celestia giggled nervously before rising, keeping her eyes below the gaze of the Master of Time as much as she could.

Twilight herself, the initial object of Celestia's mission, felt in the dark; she felt confused and above all she felt ignorant. Those three feelings turned her blood to solid ice, for they were the three feelings she despised the most out of all there were.

"Princess," Nicholas said, again having read Twilight's thoughts, "tell Twilight of who I am."

The Princess was immediately compliant, slowly trotting over to Twilight before sitting and beginning her tale.

Nearly a thousand years ago, Celestia had been called to a small village on the border of Equestria and the Griffon Kingdoms by a scryer pony who had reported disturbing visions to the guard garrison. Celestia herself, an expert in the arcane, had teleported herself into the village square on the notion she was dealing with a powerful rogue wizard. When she arrived, however, she had found the town entirely normal, ponies simply going about their daily lives as they would do normally. The scryer pony had been waiting and quickly ushered Celestia into his tower, where he laid out an ancient tome and a recently written diary entry.

"There is a force," said the scryer, "watching us from afar. The Master is soon to come."

"You speak in riddles," said Celestia, her patience long since having been destroyed, pointing her hoof accusingly at the bearded wizard pony, "explain to me what the nature of this being is, at once!"

The scryer simply shook his head, "not a being, a force" he reiterated, "one outside of such pitiful realms as mortality and logic. One not bound to the laws of reality. One so powerful that all of Equestria is nothing to it."

Celestia laughed, "I'm sure it is." She gave the scryer a dry look of sarcasm, who simply looked back at her with a grave face of sincerity.

"The Master," he said again, "The Emperor."

"No Emperor can even hope to challenge me," Celestia laughed again, striking her mightiest pose and using her pinkish-red aura of magic to make herself appear even larger in comparison to the scryer, "I am a goddess!"

"You are wrong," the scryer said, words caused Celestia's anger to flare, but he continued regardless, "the Emperor kills gods."

Celestia's anger was stopped for a moment, before her powers redoubled. “I am sure he does. Tell me, where is this Emperor now?"

"Far from here," the scryer said, "he has yet to deem us worthy. But he sends an envoy in his stead."

"Whom?"

"Kyhron," the scryer spoke the name with a shudder, his voice suddenly becoming cold to the ear. Celestia herself froze, a strange feeling of worry creeping over her - though she had no idea why.

"And who is Kyhron?" The word alone made almost silent whispers echo through her mind. It must have been a word of power, she thought. There was some sorcery afoot.

"You have heard of Tartarus, yes?" On Celestia's nod of affirmative, he continued, "it is said that Tartarus was once a gate, one of many by which daemons entered this world. Billions of dark creatures held the gate, even one powerful enough to kill every pony in Equestria with but a thought," he paused for a moment, breathing slowly to calm himself, "the Emperor descended within, and, behind him, each of the gates were shut. With him went in only one other: Kyhron. Whilst the Emperor fought, Kyhron both chronicled his father's deeds and learned from them. He presented them in this book, which he left at what we now know as the gates of Tartarus, to be claimed by whoever dared to. Then, before you yourself were even born, Equestria was awash with evil. What little good was doomed to die. Until, that is, the gates of Tartarus reopened. From them emerged Kyhron, who, in but three days, had banished all evil from the world and sealed it into Tartarus. Tirek, formerly ruler of all of this world, fell by Kyhron's hand."

“Tirek?” Celestia questioned, certain she recognised the name. A moment of thought later and it had clicked. “I banished Tirek,” she said, before bursting out in laughter. “You had me for a moment there,” she chuckled, pointing a hoof at the scryer - who clearly didn’t understand - “you may have wasted my time, but that was an excellent trick.”

“There is no trick,” the scryer said, “the creature you banished was not Tirek, but merely one of his servants. It was Kyhron who slew Tirek.”

"And he is coming here?" Celestia asked. A small and nagging feeling the scryer was telling the truth within her.

The scryer's expression changed, to one of pure dread. "He arrives tomorrow. Await him in Canterlot, he shall judge you in the Master's name."

Celestia had taken the scryer's book with her and had poured over it labouriously, suffice to say what she read frightened her - if it proved to be true. When first light came from the rising sun, it was immediately shrouded by a baleful green glow.

A tear opened up in the fabric of reality, a door to some realm Celestia had to look away from to shield herself from madness, and out of it stepped a titanic figure. It was over four times Celestia's height, with it's vast crown alone larger than much of her body, it's body was made up entirely of segmented bone, forming a natural armoured exoskeleton, that radiated green light and a black shadowy vapour. It's sword alone was larger than her and screamed out every time Celestia focused on it. The creature had three glowing red eyes, which stared unblinking at Celestia, and it had no mouth to speak of.

But it spoke nonetheless.

"Celestia," it said, voice loud and awful on the ear, "I am Kyhron, first of the Emperor's sons."

Kyhron looked her over, his head moving slowly up and down as he did so. He eventually made a huffing growl, before a black ball in his hand shot over to Celestia. It stopped within an inch of her face, small tendrils of black vapour, similar to that bleeding off Kyhron, lolled over her face. The ball made a screeching sound, before vanishing entirely with a ghostly burst.

Kyhron almost seemed to laugh, if such a thing were possible from one such as him, whilst the daemonic whispers in her brain continued. “He has found you worthy." Kyhron reached out a three-clawed hand, surrounded with glowing tendrils of energy which wrapped around the alicorn. Celestia soon found herself completely helpless, entirely incapable of movement. "Do you accept the blade?" Kyhron asked, to which Celestia could only whimper in what she hoped he would consider as an affirmative. Suddenly, the tendrils began to crush her. With a crack and a jolt of pain, Celestia's body collapsed in the tendrils' grasp.

"Your mind is peaceful," said someone else in Celestia's head.

The immortal alicorn, one of the most powerful beings in Equestria, had been reduced to a shivering and weeping wreck on the floor of her mindscape. She refused to even look up at the strange new voice, though part of her inner psyche did admit it sounded beautiful, almost melodic in its nature - but she knew it was wrong, no voice should sound as it did. It was an odd mixture of masculine and feminine, as though it was two voices speaking at once. Both spoke murder.

"Why do you weep?" The voice asked, "Kyhron merely did what he had to to get you here. You feel pain, yes?"

Princess Celestia, still spasming from her pained sobbing, gave a pathetic attempt at a nod and a half choked "yes." Barely a moment later, all her pain and fear was gone. She felt notably larger, stronger and her magic seemed to have been enhanced by some outside force.

"Who are you?" She asked, looking up slowly to the speaking figure.

The figure was small, barely taller than she was, and was far thinner than anypony she had ever seen. There were holes in his limbs where the skin should be, with the bones black and flesh charred or gone entirely. Tendrils of intersecting white energy wrapped around him, forming mostly around the upper quarter of the left hemisphere of his head, where his eye should have been held. He had no mouth, or any discernible facial features, instead there was a plate of an iron like metal.

"I am Nicholas, The Emperor of Sorrows. My herald brought you here: into your mind."

"Why?"

"Why did I want you here? Simple, there is a war coming. One that will shape the future of the omniverse for the rest of time. I am not in need of you to fight this war, but I do require the one who is to come after you. She is vital to my plans and her survival and training must be ensured.” Nicholas walked in circles around her. But, given that he had no real eyes to speak of, she couldn’t tell if he was looking at her or elsewhere.

"Who is she?"

"Twilight Sparkle," he said, the name seeming anathema to him, "there are many centuries until she will be able but you must ensure that she is. I have not the time to remain, so I will take my leave of you." Nicholas' form evaporated right before her and she was left alone in the blank landscape that was her mind for a brief moment. With an echoing roar, she was pulled from it and back into the real world.

She regarded once more the form of Kyhron, who now seemed slightly shorter than he had been previously. He too looked upon her, his head moving up and down once more as he scanned her over.

"When the light ends," he said, "await my coming from the black gates. I shall herald my master's arrival upon this planet. And with him, the beginning of the War." Kyhron did not wait for Celestia's response, instead, his form was sucked into a singularity in his chest, into which he vanished entirely with a burst.

"But," said Princess Celestia, turning to Nicholas after she ended her story, "Kyhron has yet to arrive. The black gates remain sealed."

"Indeed." Nicholas stepped over to her, kneeling to allow his titanic form a better view, "I have arrived with a very different purpose," he paused for a moment, "tell me, where is your sister Luna?"

"In Canterlot, attending the royal court. May I ask why?"

Nicholas brooded for a minute, his very thoughts seeming to blacken the sky. "Bring her here," he said at last, "under the guise of assistance with the recovery operation. Do not inform her of my presence." Celestia bowed and rushed off to give the orders but it was plain to see that she was questioning them. What irkingly little Twilight knew of Nicholas told her he was more than aware.

"Twilight," spoke the Emperor, "I believe you like books on the archaic." On her sudden interested nod, he continued, "take this one." From some place unknown he levitated a thick, black bound tome towards the alicorn, where he had pulled it from wasn't entirely apparent. "It contains both tales and instructions on the most powerful magicks in the omniverse, use it well."

Twilight opened the book on its first page and was presented with ancient paper and barely legible script of a language she had never seen before, written in a particularly leaky fountain pen.

"How old is this book?" She muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

"It does not conform to something as simple as age. It exists all across time, it has both existed and is yet to exist. It is older than you yet younger than you. But, the scriptures contained within will grant powers beyond your most wildest imaginings."

As she looked closer at the first page, still struggling to wrap her head around the concept of the book's lack of age, the script began to warp and change. The previously unintelligible scribbles had become perfect Ponish.

The Word

The Prophecy of the Eight foresaw the Dread King's arrival. It portrayed in only truths his demise by their hands. And so, when the Dread King arrived upon the world the Eight marched out to meet him. They presented him their prophecy, its words weaponised. They sung their songs of war, their verses saturated with killing magick.

"The Dread King who would have them die will fall to the Eight," their prophecy said.
The Dread King heard this prophecy, and twisted its truth into a lie.

"And they shall, with the mighty axe Lightbringer, will decapitate the incarnation of evil," so said their prophecy.

The Dread King heard this prophecy, and swung the mighty Oathbreaker to shatter the divined axe.

"The Eight shall speak, and The Dread King shall live no more."

The Dread King heard this prophecy, and spoke upon its orators. And thus, they lived no more.

Twilight felt a burning in her throat. She collapsed to the ground, choking on incomprehensible fumes and dropped the book to the floor beside her. Beneath her coat, her skin turned black and boney. The burning cleared as soon as it had arrived and Twilight felt a sudden surge of new power.

"Luna," she heard a call from Celestia, who seemed so distant from her book, "thank you for coming so quickly."

"Anything to escape the court, sister," Luna jested, the pair chuckling to themselves, "why did you call me here, though?"

Before Celestia could speak, there was a slicing sound, followed by a thump. Luna's head lay on the ground, staring at her, eyes wide in shock and mouth halfway through protest. Celestia turned to regard Nicholas with horror, who stood looming over her sister's corpse with his sword held high.

"As I suspected," he rumbled, pointing to the corpse.

The body of Luna had almost entirely melted away, replaced instead by a mass of white sludge with glowing golden spots. The sludge seemed to form a mouth and began to slither towards Celestia, leaping up at her before Nicholas brought down his sword once again.

"Kar'oi, nayeel jarun'," Nicholas spoke in an unknown and painful to hear tongue. Upon doing so, however, all movement from the sludge ceased at once. "That was not your sister," he said to Celestia, "it was a daemon who had taken her form. Your sister yet lives upon the satellite," he raised a claw towards the moon, which hung near invisible in the evening sky, "I sense her upon it. We must make haste to bring her down."

Nicholas paused for a moment, deep in thought, before he turned to Twilight. "The daemon sabotaged your rocket craft, to ensure you did not make contact with the Princess." He then turned to Celestia, who still seemed shell-shocked with the death of what had, just moments ago, the face of her sister. "Return to Canterlot, and prepare for Luna's true arrival, I will bring her from the moon."

Amidst the silence of the Tartarus valley, buried within the highest mountain in Equestria, stand the black gates of Tartarus. The gates had remained closed ever since Tirek had broken free and were thus surrounded by hundreds of Royal Guards. The average guardspony, unknowing of the true powers of the prisoners within, could only stand around in a perpetual state of boredom, whilst their more veteran counterparts mounted patrols and watches with an almost religious fervour.

Then, the silence was broken, a scream erupted from Tartarus' gates, and every guardspony froze solid in implacable terror. The black gates of the ancient prison swung open, squealing as they scraped away the rock. From them emerged a titan and a vast blanket of shadow - behind him, though invisible, were the fingerprints of death. The newest of the guardsponies collapsed to their knees or scrunched up in balls, hiding their faces from the beast before them. Only one of the ponies did not fear, a Captain by the name of Iron Shield.

"Halt!" The Captain shouted, bearing his spear at the titan, "you will go no further, evil spawn."

The titan roared with laughter, staring down at the tiny creature below. It raised it's sword high above it's head and it glowed with malign ethereal energies. The Captain stared back, prepared for the blow. The sword swung, slicing through the air with a thousand ghostly wails.

It stopped just above the Captain's head, the pony having not flinched in the slightest. His steely gaze still fixed on the titan, he said, "why do you not strike me?"

The titan laughed again. "You are worthy. I am Kyhron, Emissary of the Emperor and I have an audience with your Princess."

II. The Emissary

“Before us they had stood, unbowed, haughty, with authority. But, upon the arrival of the Emperor’s Son they were cowed. He made but one gesture of His hand, and they scattered.”

- Prince Kyhron: A Profile by Aurelia Cassian -

"An audience?" Asked Iron Shield, "you wish to visit the Princess?"

"I wish no such thing," answered Kyhron, "but my oath demands it. She must be warned of what approaches and make preparations for His coming."

Kyhron pointed to the Guard Captain, "you will come with me. We must make haste to Celestia. The gates of Tartarus will not hold back the encroaching tide."

Canterlot was a vibrant city but was by no means modernised. The houses were of ancient, classical designs, favouring marble and gold works of art over the more utilitarian and lasting steel and glass. The road systems were cobbled and well worn by the constant hoofsteps of thousands of ponies and the drainage system was straining to ensure Canterlot was not flooded.

When Nicholas looked upon the city, he snarled in disgust. Such grandeur would not serve his purposes well. Canterlot was not a fortress, not a mighty engine of destruction or bureaucracy, it was a palace crudely bolted to a mountain side. What he needed was a vast castle, one whose walls were impenetrable. But, the palace would have to do.

His arrival in the city proper was unnoticed, for he arrived through the broken seams of reality. His weave was completed with a shrieking pop, marking his form's arrival in one of the palace's many marble corridors. Almost immediately, his crown struck the ceiling, forcing him to stoop to avoid causing another gash in the masonry. Celestia arrived close behind, making an asinine remark in her head about Nicholas' size. He silenced her with a stare.

"I am too large," said Nicholas, "this shall not do."

With a sound analogous to the crunching of bone, Nicholas began to shrink. The change was slow at first, but soon he was barely taller than the doors, still nearly twice Celestia's height. He stretched out his wings, the span covering almost the whole corridor and blocking the sunlight entering through one of the stained glass windows.

"When will Twilight be joining us?"

"Within a moment, my lord."

"The guards were sworn to secrecy?"

"Yes, my lord."

"You will stop calling me 'my lord'."

"As you wish, my lord."

Nicholas turned, fist raised menacingly; Celestia's smirk fell and she lowered herself.

"I would bid you silence, but I assume I have no right to do so in your own palace," Nicholas growled under his breath, before spinning to face the double doors at the end of the hallway, "I sense something approaching us."

Sure enough, through the double doors, followed by a gaggle of service ponies, came Prince Blueblood. His eyes were near closed and his head stuck up so high that he did not see Nicholas until he crashed straight into his right leg.

"Out of my way," he yelled, rubbing his face, "damned plebeian."

"You would do well to learn your place, vile knave," Nicholas retorted, putting all his effort into the act, scaring off most of the service ponies, "lest you, of course, wish to fall to my blade."

Blueblood staggered backwards, various stuttered sounds that could be interpreted as speech coming out of his mouth. Nicholas swung his titanic sword towards him, causing the skin behind his white coat to pale even further and drive him to flee in a blind panic.

"Bring him to me!" Nicholas shouted, at no one in particular, "he must not leave this place."

Celestia walked over to Nicholas as a pair of golden armoured guards raced after Blueblood, "what are you planning?" She asked, looking down the corridor. Her reply was an ethereal groan, followed by a chuckle.

"We shall see."

"Princess Luna is located on your planet's satellite, where she has been trapped for centuries. I believe that it was during the first few years of her banishment that she was replaced by the daemon. The forces of the Aether are merciless and not beyond using such underhanded tactics, Luna is likely trapped in a spell of some kind. I should be able to reach the satellite and free her from whatever holds her, however it is likely she retains her." Nicholas paused for a moment. "Aggressive tendencies."

Twilight knew exactly what he meant, "she is still Nightmare Moon?"

"I believe so, for that is likely the only way she would remain imprisoned."

Celestia had remained strangely silent, Twilight thought, looking over to see her former mentor frowning and apparently deep in thought. Nicholas had been surprisingly animated, his wings flexing subconsciously and his right arm swinging his sword through the air as he paced back and forth. His every step was thunderous, even so much shorter now than he had been when she first met him, cracks had even begun to form in the marble floors.

"Celestia," the voice of the Emperor broke her from her trance, "I need you to be ready to purge Nightmare Moon from Luna should I not succeed."

Celestia shook her head. "That is not in my power anymore. That honour belongs to Twilight," she strained every word as she pointed to her former student.
For a brief moment, Nicholas looked taken aback, "then you have trained her well. Twilight, you must ready the Rite of Purification for my return - I fear Nightmare Moon's inherent aggression may have been exacerbated by her tenure in exile."

Twilight blinked, the rite of purification was a spell she had never before heard, she was the Element of Magic, wasn't she? She was supposed to know every spell! For someone who wasn't even a pony to come along and within hours tell her a spell she hadn't heard of before was…

"He means the elements, Twilight," Celestia said, having seemingly read her mind.

"Does she always babble like that?" Nicholas asked her, before nodding gravely in response to Celestia's affirmative. "Go," Nicholas commanded, "gather your elements and prepare yourself. I will begin the spell."

Twilight nodded and made to leave, but turned for a moment to behold Nicholas. He had risen her height off the ground and the cracks between the bone segments of his form glowed with a baleful blue light. The extremities of his arms and legs began to crackle and turn to smoke.

Twilight's eyes widened and she stepped back in horror, but she could not turn away. He gave a thunderous laugh as his head began to break up, before he vanished with an ethereal screech.

"Go Twilight," Celestia pointed to the door, "he will return soon."

Iron Shield and Kyhron had marched for hours in the direction of Canterlot. Fortunately for the titan, the land they had passed through was mostly deserted and what few ponies had seen him were cowering in their basements and likely not to leave for the next few decades. Iron Shield had attempted to make conversation, but Kyhron had either ignored him or answered with a simple affirmative or negative.

"How do you know Princess Celestia?" Iron Shield asked, admittedly not expecting Kyhron to answer.

"I had originally encountered her only at the behest of my master, Emperor Nicholas, who had some purpose in mind for her. Then, I was sent to bring her around to the Emperor's vision a few centuries ago..."

"The enemy is approaching the edge of the forest, Princess," a bedraggled and dirtied scout pony said, bowing deeply, "we saw a pair of dragons, bigger than any we've ever seen, with the titan, at their head. We estimate they'll be here in about ten minutes."

Princess Celestia, clad in her enchanted golden armour, nodded. "Return to Canterlot," she said, "observe the battle and rest. If we are defeated, evacuate the city."

The scout didn't reply, heading up the track towards Canterlot with three of their fellows following. More than likely, that evacuation order would be necessary; whatever they were facing had blocked off the Elements of Harmony with its advance, depriving Equestria of its best line of defence, with only the Royal Guard and Celestia's magic remaining to combat what, from scattered reports, was a threat beyond any Equestria had ever faced in its entire history - with even Nightmare Moon's rebellion dwarfed in comparison.

Celestia's army numbered a few thousand, though she knew full well that number would be greatly decreased by the end of the day. None of the ponies had particular veterancy, the Royal Guard had been reduced to a purely ceremonial role over a century earlier. The odd few were relatively adept at riot control, though the destruction a dragon wrought was often greater than a riot.

Sure enough, the destruction soon became apparent, as a boulder the size of a house tore through the forest, Celestia's army breaking rank as they scrambled to move from its path. The boulder's caster became visible a few seconds later, in the form of a black dragon at least fifty metres tall, with Celestia estimating its total length at about three hundred metres. It growled menacingly as soon as the ponies came into view, being joined by a fellow, whose scales were dark purple but otherwise mostly identical.

The black dragon went first, coming to within a few feet of Celestia's face. "You are Celestia?" It questioned, voice booming.

Princess Celestia nodded. "Indeed I am."

The dragon seemed to smile, baring hundreds of dagger-like teeth. "Excellent. Our masters wish to speak with you."

"Your masters?"

From the forest emerged a titan, flesh green and ghostly, with bone armour covering almost all of its body. Its eyes, three lurid red pools, were surrounded by a crown of eight vertical spikes. Shadow bled off of it, turning the ground black and ashen as it did, vegetation withering and dying. Its sword, green soulfire burning and filling her mind with ethereal whispers, seemed to cut and burn at the air around it, itching with a desire to kill. Celestia recognised him immediately.

"Kyhron," she whispered, jaw trembling, "you are here."

Something laughed all around her, guttural and loud, wrong in a way Celestia couldn't quite describe. The ground to the left of Kyhron began to shift, as though its foundation was collapsing downwards, before the ash that was once dirt was replaced by a growing mound of sickly green and grey, tumourous, flesh. Mouths, lined with long, serrated teeth, leading into dark abysses, opened at random; eyes, bloodshot, bulbous and looking about frantically, emerged from various angles, scaring Celestia's guards back with just a glare.

The tumour reached several metres in height, dozens wide, before its top split open, with a figure arising from it. Suspended by tendrils of diseased flesh, covered in pulsating tumours, body parts continuously shifting forms as if unable to settle on one, emerged someone whose mere aura mutated the trees and earth around them.

"He," the figure spoke, voice guttural and malicious, but similar to one she had heard before - the voice of Emperor Nicholas, "does not come alone."

One of the braver guards took a step forwards, before one of the dragons pushed him back with a very close swing of its mighty head. "Keep your soldiers back, they are too weak."

"Who are you?" Celestia asked, doing her best to stay stoic and appear in control.

"I," the diseased figure said, with a theatrical opening of its arms-cum-wings-cum-eyes, "am The Composer. You have already met one of my brothers, as well as Kyhron. We have never been formally introduced, but I know you have seen my handiwork: the wizard had meddled in far too much of my business."

He spoke, of course, about Starswirl the Bearded. Who, nearly two centuries earlier, had discovered a supposedly ancient magical artefact from a temple in one of Equestria's jungles. The artefact, upon being returned to his tower in Constantineighple, began, as Celestia had read from Starswirl's diary on the subject, to eat at his soul and flesh. The magician had, rightly, locked himself within his tower, in an attempt to stave off whatever could be afflicting him from reaching out to the rest of the city, but to no avail. By the time Celestia had been informed of what had transpired, the entire city, with some half a million inhabitants, had been subsumed by some horrific amalgamation of constantly shifting and evolving biomass, using Starswirl's immense reserves of magic to enhance its own power and feed its expansion. Celestia had been forced to destroy Starswirl with a magic she hadn't used since Nightmare Moon's rebellion, then burn the city and the surrounding region to the ground, creating what was now known to ponies as the Badlands. Sadly, it would not have been the first time such drastic action and subsequent lies would be necessary.

"Your fear," The Composer said, "and your anger tastes sweet to me. But, I have not come to partake in the rituals of feast, your soul and flesh are yet needed. Rather, I have come to deliver a message, if you will. A message, but, also, a token of gratitude from an old friend," a tendril of flesh reached out from just below his left hip and grabbed something in the abyss, pulling it out and throwing it to Celestia's feet.

The alicorn lifted the object in her magic and inspected it. It was a dulled gemstone, a dark purple in colour and cut into the shape of a six-pointed star. When Celestia touched it, it seemed to pulse gently, almost like a heartbeat.

"What is this?" She asked.

"A soul," The Composer said, "more specifically the vessel for the soul of Starswirl the Bearded - that was his name, right? He may have meddled in much of my business, far more than you could care to know, but the knowledge held within his soul could still be useful. Not to you, but to the one who is to come. Now, for my message."

The flesh he stood on had expanded, erupting from beneath Celestia's feet and binding her in place, with the dragons holding back her guards. The alicorn struggled vainly, but realised that, whenever she did, the corrupted flesh would begin to meld with her, subsuming her just as it had done to Starswirl.

Kyhron approached from her right, clutching something in his right fist, he kneeled down just in front of her face, sword menacingly close to her rear leg. A rush of air passed Celestia's face, apparently a result of his speech, "centuries ago," he said, bringing his right fist up to just under her face, "you performed an act of great betrayal. Had the Emperor been able, he would have led his armies and burned this world until its surface was nothing but glass, such was the extent of your crime. You are lucky my loyalties lie with him, and his plans allowed for you to live. Otherwise, you would be dead where you stand."

He dropped whatever was in his fist to the ground and stepped away, allowing The Composer access to her. He was of a similar basic body shape to Kyhron, with two mostly legs and two mostly arms, with a mostly torso and a mostly head, though he was carried by dozens of tendrils of red-grey, tumourous flesh, pulsing rhythmically, which had surprising dexterity and balance considering they had nothing analogous to feet attached to them. The Composer stood over whatever Kyhron had dropped before Celestia could get a proper look at it, though she had seen it was made of obsidian.

"My vision," said The Composer, "is absolute. I see all futures, all pasts, all presents. I see all of time. But, I do not see just time, I see thoughts, I see souls, I see every action you would willingly make. I see your hopes and your dreams. Yours is a most tender flesh, a most fine soul to drink of. There is one I wish for you to care for, to train, to nurture in her formative years, Twilight Sparkle, the one to come. I know that you had forgotten that name, that you had used the power that I gave you to further your own imperium on this world. You had thought I could be cheated, or that you could use my gifts, my tokens of gratitude, to build up your mortal power rather than prepare for what is to come. You will use my gifts to perfect the arts needed to school her, you will use my gifts to ensure above all else her safety. I will know if you have placed her in danger, if you have not trained her to the utmost of your perfection by the time I arrive. From here on, you serve me and me alone. Not yourself, not anyone, but me. To ensure your cooperation." Something bit into Celestia's leg, worming its way up inside of her, releasing something that felt like fire. “I will allow myself a portion of you, your heart will suffice.” She felt a sudden tightness deep in her chest, around the area of her heart, as the invaders seemed to converge on and wrap around it, shortening her breath. "You and I will become almost as one. You do not wish to know what will happen if you fail. But, if you succeed, I will ensure you are rewarded with the finest, never-ending pleasures."

The tightness faded, and Celestia's breathing returned to normal. "Yes," she said, bowing her head, "my lord. I apologise for all of my transgressions, conscious and unconscious. I am but your humble servant."

"Your apology is accepted," The Composer said, releasing her legs as the fleshy corruption seemed to fall dormant, "let us see how you work with a clean slate, so to speak. Your first task, select two of your guards, the ones you deem most loyal to you, bring them forwards."

Celestia did, choosing her Captain and personal standard bearer, the only two members of her Royal Guard with any sort of fighting expertise.

They tentatively stepped forwards, Celestia behind them. The Composer looked over them, seeming to appraise them, before he nodded in what, apparently, was satisfaction. "You have made very good choices," he said to Celestia, before focusing on the two guards, "I am Nicholas, The Composer, you have seen a small selection of my power. Celestia bows to me, do you?"

The two guards nodded and both bowed.

"Excellent," The Composer said, "rise, rise. You are loyal and diligent. But, you are also cautious, this is good. I can bestow a great many gifts upon both of you, if you so wish, or, you may live out the rest of your lives as mortals. You will face sickness and eventual death, but you will have your free will. Serve me and you will live forever, you will be touched by blight and you will come away from it changed, every pain, every ache, will be like the greatest joy to you. If you so wish, your loved ones may too share the same gifts as I shall grant you, you may live with your dearest in perfect joy forever. All you have to do is agree."

The standard bearer spoke first, "I agree. If Celestia may serve you, then I too shall do so."

The Captain followed, "I agree. Only the kindest of lords would offer such generous gifts."

"You have made your choices." The flesh around them erupted upwards, encasing them in a pair of bulbous cocoons, "thus, the two ascend. Kill the rest, leave no trace of our presence. Celestia, expand the forest over this area, ensure none of your kind enter it."

Celestia nodded, bringing forth a number of seeds with her magic and quickly planting and assisting their growth, her back turned to the pair of dragons who slaughtered her guards. She had just the way to prevent anyone entering the forest: a series of myths and legends about the forest's inherent evil should suffice.

After all, her little ponies would listen to her.

III. Hello Nightmare

“Those who hated the Emperor did so out of fear. Those who loved him did so out of respect and fear.”

- The Emperor’s Retainers by Lyra Mors -

The moon's surface was freezing, silent and empty, save a large white half sphere in the centre of a crater. Emperor Nicholas hovered slightly above the ground, which was slowly being scorched and cracked by streams of white light streaming from the object. He beat his wings once to draw himself closer, but flinched back slightly when a vast arc of white lightning crashed past him. He thought for a moment, considering something that only his mind could understand. He brought up his sword and sliced open a gap in the object, being immediately blinded by a burst of light.

The gap began to speak, whispering in an ancient tongue that was inaudible to mortal ears. Nicholas, however, was no mere mortal, and as such he understood every word. The voice was trying to tempt him, trying its very best to make him defer to its power: it bid him bow to it.

With a mighty roar that shook the heavens, he spoke upon it, "silence, wretch! You will open for me to pass, such is my will!" The voice was silent for a moment, before it made a splutter and the gap opened to allow him inside. Nicholas landed, clawed feet touching the cold and dust covered ground. A near invisible shiver passed up along his legs just as he stepped past the precipice. The world changed suddenly, black gave way to white just as cold dusted rock gave way to what felt like marble but looked like cloud.

"I hear you," a powerful voice echoed throughout the chamber, "show yourself and prepare to do battle!"

Nicholas knew the voice immediately, for it was the voice of one of his most trusted and powerful friends. Whilst Kyhron was like a son to him, and Kaal a loyal friend, the owner of this voice was one he could even consider a sister. Both of them had gone through much, both were scorned for the simple wish to help their subjects and both had wanted to be rid of their weaknesses. He was invisible to her, he knew that, but still he smiled.

He reached out his hand, wreathed in purple energy, and slashed open reality. He passed through the wound he had made into a darkened room. It was easily identifiable as the throne room of Canterlot, though the throne that belonged to Celestia was smashed and partly covered with a black drape. On the throne of Luna sat a giant black pony, armoured in blue metal and with her starry purple and blue mane flowing in a non-existent breeze. Closer inspection would show her to be emaciated, as if moments away from falling over dead - but her sheer magical prowess, majesty and grandeur gave her such a regal silhouette as to cover these weaknesses up. Knife slit pupils focused on him with first a look of indignation, then of a mix of terror and adoration.

"Luna." Nicholas looked around the throne room, "it has been so long. Perhaps too long."

"Nicholas," she breathed, "no. It cannot be. You are another vision, another aberration conjured up by my tyrant sister so she can stab me in the back and claim Equestria again. I will not let it happen! Disperse yourself, waywalker! Or suffer my wrath!"

"Luna, vigilant as ever, I see. I am no aberration, no demented spectre sent to haunt you. If you do not believe me then I will show you so."

The tiny blue alicorn sat before the ebony desk, even sat atop her chair much of her book was neither visible nor reachable. It was a book her sister and the court magician, Starswirl, had provided to teach her the basics of her magical abilities. There was much she had to learn about magic quickly, her sister and Starswirl could only hold up the moon for so long. The rock was tied to her, or so she had been told, and her unique magical hoofprint was vital to control it. Fortunately, sufficient magical power was enough to keep it turning, though it taxed the user to no end. She flapped her little wings to gain a brief look of the next page, only to slowly sink back down onto the navy blue cushion once her energy reserves were expended.

It was impossible. She knew it so. Her sister was naturally gifted with magic of all kinds, when she was 8 she had built a tower using nothing but magic, a year later she had so impressed her tutor, the court magician, that he had refused to take anypony's counsel save hers from that point on. Luna, on the other hand, had the greater aptitude for physical ability: she had flown around the entire castle grounds in under twenty minutes the day previously. Unfortunately for her, magic was not something that could be taught, magical ability was inherent, potential could be unlocked through tutelage but the ability had to be there to begin with. Luna had begun to despair, for she had no ability. She was not even capable of basic telekinesis, something that all foals her age were capable of. She had not even gotten her cutie mark yet, she was a princess!

The little alicorn but her head in her hooves, sighing gently as she did so. It was truly hopeless. She was expected to be capable of magic exceeding the wildest dreams of most unicorns by now, yet she had not even managed her firstspark. She was embarrassed, her sister was the shining example, the spotlight always on how wonderful she was or some incredible deed she had committed. Luna, meanwhile, was known only to a few, all of those being somewhere within the castle.
The first beams of moonlight cut through the room, lighting everything just enough for it to be visible but not too bright. Luna felt instantly relaxed and revitalised, such as she had always felt when under the moon. She had always wished to go there, to see the beautiful glow for herself and experience what she was meant to be so fundamentally connected to.

"Some day," she whispered, staring up through the skylight, "some day."

There came a faint whooshing noise from behind her, causing her to turn, and the room suddenly went cold. The faint glow of candlelight coming from the hallway disappeared, only the moon illuminated the space. Her attention would snap between pops of white light in the darkness, she felt strangely entranced by them. Every one of them seemed to exude an aura of knowledge, though she couldn't quite explain why.

She rose from her seat, lowering herself slowly to the floor beside it, and trotted into the centre of the room. She stood in the centre of the large decorative purple rug, the only real cosmetic item she owned, and looked up to behold a shadow that seemed far closer than the others. Tenderly, she poked out with a hoof, hitting a solid object. Her hoof felt as though it had frozen and she pulled it back as the feeling began to flee from its extremities.

"Hello?" She questioned the shadow, still unable to visualise what she was speaking to.

From the shadow came a crackling, strained voice, "hello," it said simply. Suddenly, tendrils of white light began to dance along one of its limbs, down the side of its abdomen and around its head. It was illuminated only slightly, and even then only by itself, but it was enough for Luna to flinch back in fear. It was far taller than she, or indeed anypony she had ever seen, stood on two legs and had no discernible face. There were noticeable gaps where its muscles should have been, instead there was exposed machinery and wiring, arranged mostly around a central set of pistons - maybe she had learned something from her studies after all. Its face was mostly a large metal plate, that had been apparently welded to greyed flesh and blackened bone, its left eye socket was the only one partially visible, though instead of holding an eye it held a writhing mass of white light forming a strangely logical yet random looking lattice.

"What are you?" Luna asked, tentatively poking its left leg with a hoof. She pulled back her hoof when the surface practically froze her blood.

"I," the creature said slowly, "am the Emperor of Sorrows."

"Oh." Luna looked down. "Does that mean you're sad? I've got cookies over there," she pointed to the dresser, which held a half full jar of cookies, "you can have one if you want."

The Emperor of Sorrows laughed, "not like that," it said, "I was born of pain, so I embody pain. I am Sorrow. And you? I know your pain. Your sister, so powerful is she, that you feel wholly inadequate in comparison. You hate your weakness, you want to be strong, like her, like the wizard. I used to be like you: weak, so many believed I was not worthy of any form of power. They hated me, feared me, ridiculed me, for what I was. Just as they do, and will do, to you. The wizard does not teach you because he knows what you will become. Why do you think you cannot use your magic? He is sabotaging you, though neither you nor your sister realise it. Tell me, do you want to be strong?"

Luna nodded, appalled at the idea of Starswirl sabotaging her, though she wasn't sure how or why. "Yes," she said, with as much certainty as a young child could have, "yes I do."

The Emperor of Sorrows smiled, baring a range of gunmetal grey teeth. "Very well," it held out its hand, with a white glow spreading from the finger tips to entirely envelop the room, Luna with it.

"It's," Luna stuttered, "it's really you."

Nicholas nodded. "Yes," he said, walking forwards, "I have returned. The War in Heaven is nigh."

"It is time?" Luna questioned, rising from her throne, "but, we are not finished on this world? I have yet to smother the Light for good."

Nicholas sighed. "Luna," he said, "this world you see before you is a lie. The Light has trapped you on your moon, Celestia rules the world below, our first task is to bring forth the Night."

Luna looked confused for a moment, before looking around her. "I had wondered," she said, "I had wondered how my sister endured, how her armies were endless even as the Night ruled over the sky. Curse her sorcery!"

"Be calm, Luna. Your sister has been brought into the fold, she knows what you are but will not dare harm you so long as I am there. She will be necessary for the first Act."

Luna's frown turned to an expression of surprise, "she is with us?" She asked, hesitantly, "Celestia has seen truth?"

"It took Kyhron to reveal it to her," Nicholas chuckled, "both he and the Composer. She has seen truth, though her commitment to our cause cannot be counted upon. For now, though, she works with us."

Luna nodded, still somewhat shocked. She then smiled, and chuckled too. "Incredible," she breathed, "truly, you can work miracles."

Nicholas laughed again, holding out a three clawed hand for Luna. The alicorn, just barely able to reach it, placed her hoof in its palm. Nicholas closed the claws. "It is time. Let us return to the surface. I have had Celestia prepare the Elements of Harmony, with a few choice additions I have made to them, that should return to you the power you lost over the years."

Luna smiled and closed her eyes, allowing the waves of energy emanating from Nicholas to wash over her, remaining calm as she felt her body melt from around her. As she felt space collapse and who knew what pass by her, she kept her eyes closed and waited, a tip Nicholas had given her centuries previously. She breathed out slowly as she felt space come back together again, followed by her form solidifying and finding its correct place.

She opened her eyes to see six ponies, none of which were her sister, all wearing various pieces of jewellery that it took her a second to recognise as the Elements of Harmony. Barely a moment later, a beam struck her. Unlike the one she had been hit by a millennia earlier, it was black, tinted with cyan and seemingly writhing to escape its path. The beam proved to be more than just energy, wrapping around her and eventually entirely encompassing her form. Within the writhing bubble's confines, spacetime distorted and all manner of ferocious and dangerous energies swirled around Luna. The bubble grew over the next minute, with Twilight shouting about how it "wasn't right!" The bubble stopped growing for a second, before popping with a ghostly moan.

In its place, stood an alicorn far removed from the Princess Luna Twilight knew. She was tall, at least seven metres in height, taller than Nicholas in his reduced form, with a defined musculature and powerful figure. Her horn was almost as long as Twilight's body, ringed in tiny glowing orange runes. Her wings were similar to Nicholas', though black and more appropriate for her size. What scared Twilight, however, was not her razor sharp pearls of teeth; her navy blue armour covered in runic writing just like her horn; her legs which terminated in clawed feet rather than hooves; or her mane and tail, which clearly showed dark green tendrils amongst the stars: but her eyes. They were a far cry from the cat-like eyes she had seen Nightmare Moon with: pools of swirling black and purple ink, dotted with stars just like her mane, with pupils that were plain white slits.

She stood silent for a moment, before tilting her head back and bellowing a laugh that seemed to echo through spacetime itself. She looked directly at Twilight, who stepped back unconsciously and bowed low in fear. Luna stepped forwards, every step silent save the clicking of her black claws against the marble floor. She stopped before Twilight, lowering her head so the two were just about level, causing Twilight to shrink back and close her eyes in a desperate attempt to banish what confronted her.

"Thank you," Luna said, voice ethereal but like silk, "for freeing me." A serpentine tongue darted from her mouth, tasting the air and giving Twilight a nasty flash of what looked like razor sharp edges. "My sister," she said, looking up from Twilight to face the golden door at the end of the room, "she is coming," Luna turned to Nicholas, who simply nodded, causing her to smile.

Footsteps began to draw nearer the door. "Do not speak," Nicholas said to the Element bearers, "do not act unless I say you may." The bearers seemed all too happy to oblige him, even Pinkie Pie, who was cowering behind a potted plant.

The footsteps stopped, replaced by the sound of a door handle turning. The hinges creaked as the wood and gold door was pushed open, revealing Princess Celestia. The alicorn entered the room, looking towards Nicholas as she closed the door.

"Where is she?" Celestia asked, confusion evident in her physicality and voice, "did you find her?"

Nicholas didn't respond, causing anger to begin to swell inside Celestia, "where is she?" She asked again, louder this time, "where is my sister?"

"Right here," Luna's appearance was otherwise silent as her magical disguise peeled away, placing her right in front of her sister, who she towered over. Celestia stammered for a moment, before stepping back just as Twilight had done. Luna followed her, laughing jovially, though with a clear malice underneath. "Oh now, don't leave me again, sister. Come on, don't you want to catch up on all the fun we've missed?"

When Celestia neared the door, the runes on Luna's horn glowed brighter, there followed a sound of rending metal and crunching wood, as Luna made sure the door was locked tight. Celestia had backed herself into a corner, literally and metaphorically, Luna standing above her and laughing as she enjoyed the spectacle.

"My lord," Celestia gathered herself enough to plead fearfully to Nicholas, "help me, please!"

Nicholas remained silent.

"My lord!" Celestia pleaded harder, "My lord! Please help me! Anypony! Please!"

Rainbow Dash prepared to make a move, but relented when Nicholas shone his sword in front of her. Rarity looked on in an almost twisted fascination; Pinkie Pie continued her cowering, except now she had somehow procured a pillow with which to cover her ears; Fluttershy began to sob as she covered her face with her hooves; Twilight stood in abject horror and Applejack simply looked away in a mixture of shame and helplessness.

Luna lifted her right forehoof, baring her talons at Celestia. "Do you remember these, sister?" She asked, grinning, "do you remember how an army was cleaved in two by them? Do you remember how they rended your armour like it was nothing? Do you remember how they shattered your precious Daybringer? I do, Celestia, I do. Soon, you shall too."

She brought the claws up, before slicing across Celestia's face with a malignant glee. The solar princess dropped down, her hooves clutching at her left eye as blood began to pool on the floor below her. Luna simply laughed, tilting her head back and allowing it to echo throughout the palace.

"You thought you could contain me, didn't you?" She sneered at the crying, desperate pony. "You thought you could trap me forever! You thought so much, yet, you were still wrong. You are almost pitiful, almost." She brought up her claws again, slashing directly downwards to cut at Celestia's left foreleg. The alicorn let out a yelp of pain before it was choked back and she grabbed the bleeding leg. "For so long I lived in exile." Luna brought the bloodied talons up again, fury and hatred running through her voice. "For so long I was trapped on my moon." She brought them down across Celestia's underbelly, causing her to collapse forwards as her sobbing became quieter. "For centuries," Luna's voice rose until it hurt the ears of all who listened, "I waited, preparing for the day I would meet you again," she brought up the claws, now dripping with blood, once more. "And now," her voice reached a crescendo, her eyes widened, the sclera filled with storms, and pupils became knifepoints. "I will have my revenge!"

"In time," Nicholas said, voice at its usual volume and with no hint as to what he had just witnessed evident in it, "clean yourselves off, both of you. Kyhron will be here soon."

Luna levitated a handkerchief up to her claws and wiped them free of blood, she brought another forwards for Celestia, laying it just in front of her head. She then followed Nicholas, who was preparing a table at the other end of the room. As they conversed, the Element bearers, save Pinkie, Rarity and Twilight, surged towards Celestia to tend her. Fluttershy, overcoming her initial terror and horror, treated the wounds as best she could, whilst Applejack cleaned the stricken mare and Rainbow Dash made crass, furious and quiet remarks about Luna and Nicholas. Pinkie remained hidden, with Rarity looking at Luna with a strange look on her face, that only Nicholas and maybe Luna herself could acquire anything from. Twilight, meanwhile, stood in petrified silence. She had not only given Nightmare Moon so much power, but sat and watched as she tore into Celestia. Twilight was not just afraid, she was ashamed. And she knew that Nicholas could tell.

She remembered back to the book he had given her, she had taken the time to skim read a passage whilst waiting for his return.

The Master of Time stood in an open field, there were bodies strewn around him. Enemies, mostly, though a sorrowful few were friends.

Before him, lay one such friend. His body was broken, his eyes blank, his armour scorched and cracked. He had joked with The Master of Time before the battle.

I will be fine, he said, there is no power in the Omniverse that can kill me. Many have tried, but none have succeeded, none ever will.

The Master of Time looked at the body. He regarded it, trawled through its still living consciousness to see its life. It had lived a good life, but not a fulfilled one.

The Master of Time spoke upon the body, and it was healed. The eyes blazed to life, the armour cleaned and sealed itself. The friend breathed anew, looking upon The Master of Time, he joked again.

Twilight felt a tingling in her throat, far more pleasant than the previous time she had read it. With her jaw still trembling, she muttered, "brai-yel, xyuthan ka'ne uwa jyaeq." She looked again to Princess Celestia, who was now sat up and talking to her friends, she was no longer bleeding, though she was covered in scars. Her left eye was still covered by her hoof, Twilight sensed - though she did not know how - that it could not be healed. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she trotted to join Celestia and the others.

"Knowing Kyhron," Nicholas joked, "it will be longer."

Luna laughed, "that is true," she paused for a moment, feeling a minute crackling on the air. "She knows the voice?"

Nicholas nodded. "She does. She is a fast learner, an excellent student. I have taught her nothing and yet she can master it simply from the Tome."

"Wow," Luna said, clearly impressed, "even I required great tutelage to learn the voice, and yet I can barely speak it."

Nicholas chuckled, "she is certainly a prodigy. As all of those six seem to be, in varying degrees. The one with the rainbow mane? I had to stop her from attacking you."

Luna's brow raised. "Really?" She chuckled, "my, oh, my. I admire her courage."

"As do I," Nicholas said, looking off into the distance, "reminds me of Kaal, in a way."

Luna sighed, "it is a pity," she said, "I would have liked to meet him."

The two stood in silence for a moment, both reflecting on the losses of their lives. Luna knew she had lost much, but sat besides Nicholas, it was as though she had lost nothing at all. Inspecting him with magic was next to impossible, but there was a yawning emptiness inside of him - an abyss that could never be filled.

"Excuse me?" A voice, that of Rarity, came from below, "I wondered if it would be alright to join you? I doubt my friends would be incredibly accommodating of me at this moment."

Nicholas looked down at her, before chuckling. "Of course. Come, sit at our table," he pulled a chair out for her, "more are always welcome."

Luna smiled at the little pony. "Indeed they are."

Nicholas pulled himself down into a chair as Rarity pulled herself into one, he just barely fit, his legs spreading out far beyond the edge of the table. Luna, with a single beat of her mighty, leathery wings, came to rest on the seat opposite him. She stretched her neck out with a pop, before resting back against the chair's back, which just held her.

"So," she said, looking over Rarity, "what brings you to us? I would have expected you would aid Celestia."
Rarity smiled sheepishly, chuckling as she rubbed the back of her head with her hoof. "Well," she said awkwardly, "the beauty of your craft...the radiance of your power...it acquired my eye," she stuttered as she tried to get the words out.

"You liked it," Nicholas said, "didn't you?"
Rarity went red, before admitting it, "yes. Only a little! And not in a weird way! There was just so much power, so much mastery. It was finer than the most beautiful gemstone."

Luna stared at her in silence, whilst Nicholas burst out laughing, causing the table to shake. His voracious laughter was so strong he propelled himself backwards, causing the chair to fall backwards, him with it. He lay on the floor in silence for a moment, before his thunderous bellowing began again. Rarity, seeing the display, forgot all of her embarrassment and laughed as well, with Luna following suit as she failed to contain her laughter at the sudden situation.

They were laughing for a solid five minutes, before Nicholas calmed enough that he lay himself back. Rarity wiped a tear from her eye, her throat hoarse from the exclamations. "Oh, darling. It seems I made the right choice."

Rainbow Dash looked on the display as a betrayal. Rarity hadn't shown the slightest care for Celestia, and was instead rolling around and laughing with the pony who had injured her so badly and the creature who had let it happen. Part of her did, however, wish she was over there. They looked to be having genuine fun, which Rainbow wished she could have and forget about the partially blinded alicorn next to her.

"Look up for me." Fluttershy was tending Celestia, considering she had no proper equipment she was doing a remarkable job of it. “Good work. Now look down. Excellent. How's your right eye feeling?"

Applejack, to her credit, hadn't gone and shouted at Luna or Nicholas, which calmed Rainbow a great deal. She did, however, whisper a string of choice curses. She only made one small reference to Rarity and even then it was cloaked in euphemism. Celestia hadn't even noticed, or if she had she had kept it quiet. Rainbow continued sneaking glances their way, fantasising about fun and laughter whilst doing whatever Fluttershy told her too.

Twilight had walked over to them and sat a couple of yards from Celestia, her head bowed and not a sound coming from her. Applejack had worried aloud if she was okay to Rainbow, but had shook it off when Fluttershy handed her a bandage to wrap Celestia's foreleg. Eventually, Rainbow turned to Twilight. "Hey, Twilight," she said, "you okay?"

Her only reply was a wavering breath, followed by a choked sob. Rainbow took a step over to her, slowly wrapping a wing around her friend's shoulders. The two sat in silence a moment. "It's okay," Rainbow said, at last, "you're alright."

"But," Twilight stammered, voice holding off to contain tears, "I let them do this, I gave her the power to do this." She nearly broke down, just managing to hold on as Rainbow brought her in closer.

"It's not your fault," she said, firmly, "and that's final. Come on, if we all blamed ourselves, where would we be? Hmm? We wouldn't have gotten this far, that's for sure. Now, let's be strong."

Twilight nodded, following her shakily over to Celestia.

"Twilight?" Celestia said, her voice quiet and pained, "are you alright?"
"Yes, Princess," Twilight said, sitting in front of her mentor and holding her unhurt hoof, "I'm here."

"Twilight, you have to go, now," Celestia's voice rose slightly, but she still remained whispering, "he's coming."

"Who's coming?"

"The Emissary," Celestia was crying as she continued her warning, "you need to leave, now!"

Celestia's voice peaked as a thud echoed through the room. Everything was silent for a moment, before three knocks came from the damaged door. They were either made with a battering ram or a very large fist. Nicholas rose, gesturing for the ponies in front of it to move aside, Applejack and Rainbow dragged Celestia away, whilst Fluttershy continued bandaging and salving her wounds. Twilight stood in place, her mind refusing to let her move even as her body screamed out that she needed to.

Nicholas did not even grant her a look, rather, he grabbed the battered door handle and, with force Twilight could not even imagine but no physical effort, he pulled the door away and set it aside. Through the gap came a figure similar to him, though slightly taller and tinted in a baleful green glow. His crown was taller and made of eight vertical spikes, his three eyes were lurid red pits and he held a cleaver in his hand that radiated a black, shadowy substance.

He looked at Nicholas for a few seconds, totally silent, with the two seemingly communicating in silence. Eventually, he nodded slightly, and spoke, "my Lord," he said, voice grating and vile to hear, "the seams are coming apart. Tartarus is being battered upon by daemonic hordes, the Veiled Edge is alive with combat, the Beacon of Abaddon is ablaze and the sleeping giant has awoken, at last. The War in Heaven has begun."

IV. The Beginning

“When first I stood in the household of the Emperor, Nicholas, I was cowed by the mere sound of his breathing. Then, he turned to me, and spoke. I had expected his voice to terrify me, but it did not. He spoke sharply, with authority, but also a deep kindness, his language ancient and poetic. ‘I hath heard that thou hath writ many tomes on the workings of mine own government. Shall thee do the same with this event?’ On my affirmative, he continued. “Wonderful, thou shalt write favourably of myself, hmm?’ He gave a jovial laugh afterwards.”

- The Assembly at Arcadius by Remulcador Axis -

Iron Shield had not left Celestia's side since he had seen her, he had made several threatening moves at Luna but Kyhron's sword and Nicholas' soul burning stare had dissuaded him from acting on them. Fortunately, he always carried a medical pack with him, allowing Fluttershy to work her healing magic in the metaphorical sense whilst Twilight worked hers in the literal.

"Should I issue my call early?" Kyhron asked, as he, Luna and Nicholas surrounded the table at the far end of the room, with Rarity sat in an observation position.

"Yes," Nicholas responded, "we shall require soldiers to assist us here. I doubt Luna or yourself need the assistance, but many of the others do," he gestured to the ponies in the opposite corner, "I require them alive. They are important to the plan."

"The injured one as well?" Kyhron questioned, with a hint of malice in his tone.

"Even her. The first Act is yet to be completed, it has only just started, after all. Joining us, however, as our newest member, is Rarity here.” He gestured with open palm at the pony, who waved up at the titans around her, "she has displayed a remarkable aptitude to our cause and methods," his straining of the word led Kyhron to give as surprised a look as he could, "I am assured you will respect her, I know that I do. I can say that Luna does too."

Kyhron looked at the pony, whose cheeks had again flushed red, really standing out against her white coat. He regarded her fully for a moment, before nodding to himself and addressing her, "my Father trusts you," he said, leaning in close, "and Luna does too. I am inclined to believe they are correct. My own instincts also tell me to trust you. But, do not forget, no matter how close you may get, if you step out of line I will slaughter you."

"That is quite enough," Luna said, causing Rarity to look up at her with a certain admiration, "Nicholas, I should like to request something."

"Go ahead."

"I should like Rarity to be assigned as my personal attendant," she turned to Kyhron, "just as Kyhron has Neveron, I shall have Rarity."

Nicholas was silent for a moment in mock consideration, "very well," he said, "I suppose now you shall wish for Sovereignty? Might I interest you in Sagittarius? Or perhaps Perseus is more to your liking?"

Nicholas and Luna laughed together, before Kyhron turned to Rarity, "very well," he said, "it appears you now outrank most of the Empire. You are lucky to be a favourite, you know."

Luna swooned in mock outrage, "scandalous," she said, foreleg crossing her brow, "how ever will the press react to that?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Nicholas mused, to the laughter of Luna and shock of Kyhron.

"The boy had earned my respect," he said, "even if his private affairs were a little unconventional, he was still an excellent warrior, a true terror on the battlefield."

"I'd heard he was one in the bedroom too," Luna giggled, causing Nicholas to wheeze and Kyhron to huff, before he too joined in with a bone chilling chuckle.

"Damn you," Nicholas spluttered as he choked on something, he waved a claw at Luna. He coughed, before clearing his throat, "good one," he said, to the laughter of his companions.

"Excuse me," Rarity's voice was a whisper in comparison to the others', "I'm not sure I understand."
Nicholas just managed to contain a laugh, "oh," he said, sneaking a glance to Luna, "it's nothing to worry yourself about."

"Well," came another voice, one Rarity didn't recognise, "I wouldn't say nothing."

Everyone on the table turned to behold the new arrival. They were about three metres tall, clad in white armour over a black bodysuit, with a large vertical square plate attached to the left shoulder. Their helmet was in their right hand, revealing a pale face with buzzcut blonde hair, a thin nose and grey eyes.

"Commander Traal," Kyhron said, "you're here early."

"Imaginifier Neveron contacted us shortly after you set off, Lord Kyhron. The Fleet of Righteous Conversion and the Second Combined Fleet of Sanctified Charity are ready for orders, with the main force around four days away," Commander Traal saluted, slamming their fist across their chest.

Emperor Nicholas rose from his seat. “How many are you?"

"Seven and a half million, my Emperor, with seven hundred and fifty seven ships available."

"You command the force?"

"No, my Emperor, that would be Imperial Admiral Tauox, aboard the Sanctity of Truth."

Emperor Nicholas was silent for a moment, before he huffed, "begin landing your forces, Kyhron has provided you with co-ordinates, establish a defensible perimeter at eight hundred metres and bring the cruisers into low orbit."

"At once, my Emperor." The Commander saluted again, before removing a small pad from a box on their right hip. They stepped away to communicate, allowing Nicholas to sit down again.

"It is beginning," he said, "we shall make our way to the Gate. My ritual begins there. Luna, gather every pony who will follow you into battle. Kyhron, ensure this city is empty by the time the Gate opens. I will begin my ritual when I arrive, so be ready."

Both Kyhron and Luna nodded, the former rising and marching with speed to the Palace entrance, with the latter rising and turning to brief Rarity.

"How many of your friends will come with us?" She asked, a hint of concern in her tone.

"I can probably convince Rainbow," was the reply, followed by a pause for thought, "perhaps Applejack, and maybe Fluttershy. I don't think I could convince Twilight and I don't even know where Pinkie is."

Luna nodded gravely, "very well," she said, "Kyhron shall take care of Pinkie Pie, and I shall personally deal with Twilight. I need you to get everyone else you can to follow, it would be better if they didn't have me bearing down on them."

Rarity nodded, trotting over to her huddled friends with a rising but still unsure sense of urgency. From the corner of her eye, she caught Luna, who was looking out over Canterlot in silence. The distant sky was white with cloud, aside from a black mass moving slowly towards the city. She passed it off as a quirk of Equestria's weather and began her approach.

"Hello," she said, before falling silent when Rainbow launched herself at her.

The blue pegasus stopped within half an inch of Rarity's face, "what in Tartarus is wrong with you!" She half questioned, half exclaimed, "you sat laughing with them? After what she did to Celestia! I can't believe you!"

Rarity looked to Applejack, who had a sour look on her face and was mumbling what she assumed were curses under her breath. "Rainbow," Rarity began, in an attempt to appeal, "you don't understand."

"I don't understand? She nearly killed Celestia! Only that thing stopped her. Nightmare Moon, probably something far worse, is stood right over there and you were joking with her. What's happened to you?"

"Rainbow," Rarity said, far more forcefully, causing Rainbow to fall silent, "let me explain," she calmed herself for a moment, before speaking again, "That is Princess Luna, the real Princess Luna. Celestia betrayed her, she simply exacted vengeance. Whether you agree with it or not, that is what happened. Now, are you going to stay here, where we are all probably in harm's way due to circumstances beyond our control, or are you going to join us in moving to safety?"

Rainbow was silent, so Rarity continued, "Emperor Nicholas, the thing you spoke about before? He knows the way. He knows the right thing to do."

"But," Rainbow protested, "have you seen him?"

"Rainbow!" Rarity exclaimed in horror, "you are judging him on how he looks? I expected better from you! I believe Emperor Nicholas wants what is best for us, he's just like us in a way. Luna's actions don't matter, what is happening soon does.” She put her hooves on Rainbow's shoulders. "This is bigger than us, Rainbow. We have to be brave, all of us. Emperor Nicholas..." her voice trailed off, "he said Tartarus is opening," she kept her voice low, but still caused Rainbow to draw back.

"Opening?" She whispered, "as in, opening? Opening?"

Rarity nodded.

Rainbow hovered in silence for a moment, before landing slowly and turning to Applejack. She brought herself in close to her ear, whispering something that was covered by a hoof. Applejack's expression turned from sour to surprised, then to terrified.

"Ah gotta get Big Mac, and Granny, and Applebloom!" Her voice was quick and worried, drawing the eyes of all the other ponies.

"Why?" Twilight asked, before Rainbow pulled her into their growing huddle.

When Rainbow had finished whispering, Twilight pulled back. "No," she said, "that's not possible. Tartarus doesn't work like that!"

"Twi," Applejack pulled her back, looking her dead in the eyes, "Rarity isn't lying."

Twilight's face fell, then the rest of her body did. She lay her head on her outstretched hooves, "how?" She asked no one in particular, "that shouldn't be possible. It isn't possible!"

"The impossible," came the thunderous voice of Emperor Nicholas, "is imaginary. Everything is possible, given the right amount of power," Twilight looked up at him, worry etched onto her face, "we have half a day, maybe a full day if we are lucky, before the Gate opens. When it does, daemons shall flood into this world. You must gather everyone you can, your loved ones especially, and keep them close. When help comes, it will be fleeting," with the cryptic final line, he flew off, wings beating slowly to glide him along.

"Twilight," Celestia said, voice quiet and still clearly full of pain, "he is right. Nicholas knows what he is talking about. I can feel the Gate breaking."

The information overload forced Twilight's head down again. Before it was forced up again as she heard footsteps approaching, silent save for the shrill crack of claws on the marble floor.

"Twilight," Luna said, "I have had your parents moved to the train station, your brother and his wife are on their way now. They will be with us, whether you are or not. Come with us, and we can face Tartarus together and protect your family, or don't, and you will die here. Beneath Canterlot, is a vast reserve of magical energy stored within crystals, this city is going to be swarming with daemons when the gate opens."

Twilight imagined for a moment what that would be like: twisted monstrosities swarming throughout Canterlot, the whole city ablaze. She knew she would rather be away from that, no matter the cost of doing so. She rose, slowly, looking at Luna the entire time, even stood tall; she was tiny in comparison. She nodded her affirmative, with Luna smiling and returning the nod.

"All of you," Luna said, "come with us, or do not. Your fate is in your hands if you refuse."

She set off walking, Rarity following by her side. Rainbow followed behind her, with Applejack tagging along with visible reluctance. Twilight lifted Celestia in her magic, she and Fluttershy followed behind them, with Iron Shield remaining by Celestia's side, voicing his opinion only through near silent curses to Luna.

Emerging from the Palace, they saw Canterlot next to empty. Kyhron's crown could be seen near the train station, likely herding the ponies onto the trains that would leave the city for Ponyville, where a series of what, from a distance, looked like metal boxes were stationed. Overhead, the shadow Rarity had seen earlier in the clouds was visible, though now hovering still and with much more detail visible. It was a clear symmetrical shape: a wide round end, which doubled in width about a quarter of the way along, which slowly and roundly tapered off to a slightly thinner round end, and it pretty much dwarfed the entire city. Rarity looked up as she walked and swore she saw a glowing circle at the centre of the widest point.

Luna stopped, causing the whole group to halt, and looked up at the shadow. A few moments after, an object: the cause of the shadow, began to move down through the clouds. It's upper was a dark purple, with its underbelly more black and grey. Its main feature was the glowing circle, which was a bright red, almost like the sun on a clear dawn. Rarity looked to Luna for any sort of message, becoming more relaxed on seeing her satisfied look.

Luna began trotting forwards again, down into the city proper. The group followed behind, with Rainbow staring in awe at the object above. It didn't take Rarity long to realise what it was: a ship.

They reached the train station after a scant few minutes of trotting through empty streets. Compared to the silence of the rest of the city, save the quiet, low drone of the ship above, the train station was deafening. Ponies shouted their concerns and questions in an attempt to be heard above the incomprehensible din of the crowd, though the people controlling the station, armoured identical to Commander Traal save they had their angular, featureless headgear on and were without their yellow cape, were ignoring them and directing them to carriages.

"Take only what you need," One of them shouted robotically through a megaphone-like instrument, voice processed by their helmet, "no more than one bag per person."

Luna stepped forwards, causing the pony crowds to instantly silence. They looked at her with horror, several trying to make their escape through a crowd that refused to move.

"Ponies," she shouted, "do not fear, I mean you no harm. We must leave Canterlot, you will not be safe here for long. Please, board the trains quickly and orderly, do not endanger your fellow pony."

The ponies all complied, silently shuffling forwards as the guards, and Kyhron himself, looked on in surprise. The previously heaving mass of ponies had reduced to a small, single file line within minutes, allowing Luna and her group to pass. The guards only had to give her a glance, before parting. Only one stopped her, "ma'am," they said, "two of the ponies you requested are in the station master's office, the other two have yet to arrive."

"Thank you, Captain," she said, the soldier stepping aside. Rarity admired the red cape on his shoulder for a moment, before quickly scuttling after Luna, with the Captain turning to continue moving the remaining ponies.

The station master's office was surprisingly large, covering the entire floor of the building. It was also surprisingly empty, with only a single wooden desk, chair and empty filing cabinet within. The soldiers who had taken over the station had more than likely cleaned the place out, or perhaps the station master was a generally tidy pony.

Twilight Velvet and Night Light were stood with two guards stood beside them. When they saw Luna, who had to duck to fit through the door, even as large as it was, their eyes widened and they tried to move away, though the statuesque look of the guards stopped them.

"Twilight Velvet, Night Light." Luna smiled and bowed, both as a courtesy and to save her head from the ceiling. "Do not worry, I mean you no harm. In fact, I mean you very much the opposite. Your daughter is outside, though I fear she may not be able to get in," with a chuckle, Luna reversed out, beckoning the two ponies outside. They followed, cautiously, the guards with them marching forwards, rifles held diagonal across themselves.

"Mum! Dad!" Twilight ran forwards and the three met with a tight embrace.

"Oh, Twilight," Velvet said, "I was so worried! I don't know what happened. We got a knock on the door, then we were told the whole city has to evacuate."

"It's alright," Twilight said, "Shining and Cadance are coming down soon. We're going to be safe."

"I took the liberty of having the guards collect your possessions," Luna said, as another eight guards brought boxes forwards, "I'm afraid you won't be returning to your home."

A soldier, wearing a purple cape on their left shoulder, jogged up to Luna as the last train left the station, "ma'am," they said, voice functionally identical to the others they had heard, "the last train will be arriving shortly, HIGHCOM has ordered we reach the village below within the hour. Is there anything you need collecting?"

"No, thank you, General," she answered, "gather your men together and we shall head down. Is the ship ready?"

"Yes ma'am, HIGHCOM has given them a countdown."

"Very good. Gather your men, ensure no one is left behind."

The General nodded, running off to gather the soldiers around the station to the platform. At the bottom of the hill, just past Ponyville coming to Canterlot, was a plume of steam and the black rectangles of a locomotive.

"Rarity," Luna said, kneeling to get closer to Rarity's ear, "take the train down to Ponyville, then ask for the Night Truth, they'll know what you mean."

"Why?" She asked, "are you not coming with us?"

Luna chuckled, "I can't fit on that train, neither can Kyhron. That's why he's already left."

Sure enough, Kyhron had vanished from his spot, without anyone noticing. All the more surprising considering his immense size. Rarity looked back to Luna, who gave her a tap on the horn with a claw and a smile, before she spread her wings and took flight. She hovered just beyond the station's roofed platform, shouting down to the guards around the pony group. "Ensure they reach Ponyville safely, I shall oversee further preparations."

"Yes ma'am," they all shouted in unison, moving to speak to the various ponies. Luna gave herself a short nod, before flying off to Ponyville, her massive wings barely needing to move to glide her down.

"Do you have any bags, ma'am?" One asked Rarity, who replied with a polite negative. The soldier nodded, rising to stand by her side.

It was twenty minutes before the train arrived, ample time for the soldiers in Canterlot to gather themselves in neat blocks, six abreast and eight in file. The moment it arrived, they advanced towards set carriages, boarding quickly. Only one carriage was left unfilled, with the reason why stepping out shortly afterwards.

Cadance was practically dragging Shining Armour along, prying him away from the soldiers who had come with them. The Sparkle family, Cadance included, ran to each other and embraced, Twilight breaking down in near silent tears. One of the soldiers, with a red cape sporting a golden vertical bar on their shoulder, marched up to Rarity, snapping to attention before speaking, "ma'am," they said, "the train is ready. Have you got everything you need?"

Rarity nodded, not entirely sure why she was being treated as the leader. The soldier returned her nod, before taking a metal box from their hip and speaking into it, their voice amplified, "last boarding call. Repeat, last boarding call, departure in two minutes."

They began to walk towards the last remaining train carriage, beckoning for the others to follow. The carriage was surprisingly well furnished, with comfortable seats, leg room and veneer floors with red carpet down the aisle. The soldiers took seats at intervals of four, with two sat next to both doors. The Sparkle family sat in the very centre, with Shining Armour shooting constant glances at the soldiers just behind him. Rarity, Applejack and Rainbow Dash sat at the front, with the General from early joining Rarity. Fluttershy and Iron Shield lay Celestia down on one of the tables, with a soldier coming over to assist them, a red symbol on their shoulder plate likely being the denotation of a medic.

As the train thundered out of the station, the General brought a blue pad from their hip, they pressed a button on its edge and a display flashed up. It was a picture of a large gateway, which Rarity assumed was the Gate of Tartarus, there were tiny trenches and fortifications surrounding it, with the tiny specks of vehicles moving about it. He pressed the button again, a series of runes appearing in a language Rarity had never seen before, not even in one of Twilight's books. Seemingly satisfied with the information, the General pressed the button again, which switched the display from the Gate to Canterlot, the ship above and the train they were on both clearly visible.

"We have fifteen minutes, ma'am," the General said.

"Until what?" Rainbow interjected.

"Until glassing."

"What's glassing?" Applejack asked, Rarity remaining unable to get a word in.

"The cruiser will fire it's plasma lance," the General said, as though explaining it to a child, "the mountain will become mostly a glass-like substance."

Rarity felt a sinking feeling. “Plasma lance?"

"Its main weapon," the General said, pointing out the glowing circle on the model of the ship, "you'll see it soon."

The train sped down the mountain, far faster than any of the ponies was used to. Within the fifteen minutes the General had specified, they were far gone from Canterlot mountain and on the home stretch to Ponyville. Rarity, Applejack and Rainbow all looked out of the windows towards Canterlot, waiting with rising concern to see what would happen.

The glowing circle steadily became brighter, until a deep, crimson red ball had formed. Beneath the din of the train, there was a buzzing sound, almost like an electric heater, which grew louder as the ball grew larger. The ball held in place for a moment, the low buzz continuing, until it suddenly sparked. With a deafening crash, the ball broke, a jet of red slamming into the surface of Canterlot. Within seconds, the highest towers of the Palace had melted, with the courtyard entirely shrouded in smoke and ash. What had been a low buzz was replaced by a roar as the ground physically shook below them. As the other ponies all turned their gazes towards Canterlot, their eyes widening and their jaws dropping in horror, the city, and much of its upper mountain, became entirely invisible through the expanding cloud of ash and debris.

Five minutes later, an explosion rocked the train, plumes of blue smoke rose from where Canterlot had been, shards of blue and pink light shot out from the ash cloud wherever they could. A few seconds afterwards, the bombardment ceased, the roar was gone and so was the plume of plasma. As the ponies looked on the cloud in horror, the ship hanging above, with a low hum, began to drift upwards, before a flash of orange from its rear propelled it forwards, causing the train to further rumble as it passed overhead and threw a shadow over it.

"By Faust," Night Light breathed, just audible over the noise of the train.

As the other ponies collected their thoughts and took in what had just happened, Twilight stared in what could only be described as rage. Her horn flashed, apparently without her noticing, before Shining grabbed her and pulled her to her seat.

"Calm down, Twiley," he said, "there's nothing you can do."

The General had risen and moved towards the soldiers behind Shining, "visuals?"

The soldier by the window had a half oval of metal in front of their face, likely a pair of binoculars, and was looking into the ash cloud, "can't see much," they said, "residue's clouding the sensors. Hold up. Yep. Confirm, target destroyed."

A second soldier, also holding binoculars, responded, "confirm, target destroyed."

The General nodded, before returning to their seat. They turned to Rarity, who was still in shock, "ma'am," when there was no response, they waved their hand in front of Rarity's face, who shook herself into a state of relative consciousness. "Glassing successful, ma'am. We will be in Ponyville in five minutes."

Rarity's only answer was a nod. When she did so, she received a furious look from Rainbow, who then grabbed her by the shoulders. "What was that?" She yelled, "they just destroyed all of Canterlot!"

"Rainbow," was all Rarity could muster.

"Don't Rainbow me!" She yelled back, "your friends just destroyed Canterlot, who knows what they'll do next! You're saying that was the 'right thing to do'?"

Rarity admitted she had a point, but she knew Nicholas wouldn't order something like that without good reason for it. She remembered back to what Luna had said to Twilight, about the crystals beneath Canterlot. It would explain the explosion, perhaps they were simply denying the daemons access?

"The crystals," she said, meekly, "beneath the city."

"What about them?"

"That's why they did it. The explosion before," her voice returned, becoming far more authoritative, "it was to deny the daemons access to the magical energy reserves. Who knows how powerful they could have become with access to them."

Rainbow thought for a moment, before slowly and reluctantly relinquishing her friend. She caught a white movement from the corner of her eye, turning quickly to see a soldier lowering his rifle from aiming at her. She turned to Applejack, whose expression softened from worried yet determined to more relaxed. Their hooves instinctively shifted between them, combining as the two looked out towards the slowly fading ash cloud that had been Canterlot.

When the train arrived in Ponyville, it was met with a mostly empty town, save a force of soldiers and the Apple family. Big Mac traipsed up to the carriage, totally undaunted by the armed guards who were significantly taller than he. He stood patiently as the first eight soldiers exited, then steadily trotted forwards to his sister and snatched her up in a hug. He was quickly followed by Granny Mac and Applebloom, who joined in the hug.

Four soldiers stepped up to them. "We need you to come this way, there's a shuttle waiting for you."

Reluctantly, the hug broke and the ponies followed towards a series of craft landed around the Ponyville area. Their purpose was quickly revealed as one gently lifted off, before speeding away towards the horizon, becoming invisible in seconds.

Rarity stepped up to a soldier with a green shoulder cape. "Excuse me," she said, drawing their attention, "I was told to ask for the 'Night Truth', by Princess Luna? I don't know if that would ring any bells?"

The soldier was silent for a moment, before snapping to attention, "right this way ma'am," they said, gesturing with an open palm towards a series of tables and devices that apparently functioned as a command post.

A number of soldiers manned the tables and devices, with one standing out by the golden cape they wore. They saw the two approaching, stepping away from a screen to speak, "yes, sergeant?"

"Legate," the Sergeant said, "this is Lady Rarity, Princess Luna's personal attendant."

The Legate nodded. "Thank you, sergeant, leave her with me," the Sergeant saluted and stepped away to continue coordinating movement, with the Legate leading Rarity towards Ponyville's village centre.

"Transfer to the Night Truth is currently unavailable, ma'am," they said as the two walked, "so Princess Luna has ordered you to be transferred to the command post at the Gate.” They reached a craft similar to the ones her friends were boarding, though painted night black instead of dark grey. "Major-General Avor will take you from there," they shouted as the craft's engines spooled up, the side bay doors opening to reveal four soldiers in black armour waiting, Rarity was helped aboard by a pair of them, with the Legate shouting from outside the craft, "once evacuation commences, you'll be taken to the Night Truth. Best of luck, ma'am." He saluted as the craft rose into the air, causing Rarity somewhat of a fright. The bay doors slid down, closing, with one of the soldiers leading Rarity to a seat and strapping her in.

"Combat hasn't started yet," they said, "though it's probably best to stay strapped in, might be some turbulence."

Rarity nodded, before noticing something on their shoulder plate, "excuse me," she said, "may I see the plate on your shoulder?"

The soldier nodded and turned, allowing her a view of the plate. The emblem on it was unmistakably a stylised version of Luna's cutie mark. These must be some of Luna's personal guards? Or soldiers, perhaps?

"Where are we going?"

The soldier looked at her for a moment, before answering, "the Gate of Tartarus."

V. To War

“The first soldiers to leave Chronove fought with chants of ‘Emperor’s Glory’, which later evolved into ‘Imperious Dominous’ meaning ‘Imperial Lord’. Amongst the Emperor's own Guard was the chant of ‘Death! Death!’ which was later primarily replaced by ‘In the Emperor’s name, forwards!’“

- A Scholarly History of Imperial Warfare by Lucius Hali -

They had flown for at least an hour, the soldiers answering all of Rarity's questions and bringing her up to speed on the operation. The entire force had landed, all seven and a half million of them, around the Gate of Tartarus to guard Emperor Nicholas whilst he completed his "ritual." Whatever that entailed. Her companions had admitted they didn't know what the ritual was but were still prepared to fight to protect it.

"We're coming into land, ma'am," the pilot said over the inner speakers, "gonna drop you right at the command post, won't be far from the front."

The landing was surprisingly soft, with Rarity foolishly believing, through the relative silence of the dropship, that maybe out beyond its walls wasn't so bad. When the bay doors opened, however, she was met with a far grimmer reality. The roar of a million engines hit her like a wall, the ground was grey, the air full of dust and the sky black with choking cloud. All around her was the vision of coming war.

The soldiers led her forwards, the dropship lifting off the moment she left it. As the pilot had said, the command post was barely a metre behind the trench lines, which were filled with soldiers and lined with gun emplacements. Every few dozen metres, a larger pit had been dug to hold a tank, whose size Rarity couldn't help but gawk at. Even as she did, the soldiers with her pushed her forwards towards the command post, whose screens were manned by a mixture of black and white armoured soldiers, as well as Luna herself.

"Is he ready?" Luna asked a soldier, a Captain by his red cape.

"Yes, ma'am," was the answer, the Captain saluting before returning to his screen.

Another came up behind her, "ma'am," they said, "the final dropship has arrived."

Luna turned to Rarity and her group and smiled warmly, "Rarity!" She cantered up to her and hovered her taloned foreleg in the air for a moment, before patting Rarity on the shoulder. “Good. You're here. Join me in the command post. Don't worry, we'll keep you protected."

As she followed, the four soldiers who had arrived with her jumped into the trenches, taking up positions in the firing line just in front of the post. Luna gave Rarity the quick run down, informing her as to what each console did and who was manning them.

"Now," she said, after showing Rarity the large holographic map in the centre, crouching to align their faces and putting a foreleg over her shoulder, "when the Gate opens, you're going to see a lot of things. I won't lie to you, it won't be clean, it will be violent and loud and terrifying. You're going to see death first hand, live it through those around you. I will protect you, but I can't protect everyone, even the others in this post may die. Are you ready?"

Rarity nodded. "I'm ready."

In truth, she wasn't. The most violence she had ever seen was the Changeling invasion years ago and even then that had been tame in comparison to what she was expecting from the coming battle. She was somewhat thankful Luna hadn't introduced her to anyone by name, she didn't know how she would feel if faces began dying around her. As they were, the soldiers were just that, soldiers, they were like the pawns of a chess game, you didn't cry when they were taken.

Luna gave her a warm smile, as calming as she could make it. Unfortunately for that plan, however, a rumble shook the field. Both ponies looked at each other, confused, before a soldier in the post shouted out.

"Make ready!"

They both turned, beholding the titanic Gate of Tartarus. It was obsidian, fortified with a blood red metal and covered in three massive locks, each bearing a single, unique rune that glowed. Or, at least, they should have. The locks had crashed to the ground, their runes dark, and a sliver of light had penetrated through the Gate.

The Gate was opening.

Within seconds, even though the Gate was barely open, shapes began to swarm from it. From a distance, they appeared as ponies, though all a uniform crimson with thin black hair. Close up, however, it was clear that they were not ponies. They had no fur, or skin, just a writhing mass masquerading as flesh, their hair was like wire and their eyes were nothing more than pools of whitish liquid. Those who had horns were either blunted or razor sharp, more knives than horns. Those who had wings appeared almost malnourished in comparison to the others, their wings were mostly transparent, with their bodies thin and emaciated. With a blood curdling screech, the fliers climbed into the air and those with horns fired off bolts into the trench lines.

The first salvo landed harmlessly just short of the trench, though a fair few soldiers ducked back. There was silence from the trenches, before a hundred thousand sergeants all cried out in unison, "fire at will!"

With piercing shrieks, bolts of orange energy launched from the trenches, the soldiers discharging their rifles for the first time before Rarity's ears and eyes. With a hum, followed by a thunderous, guttural roar, the larger weapons fired, firing off molten pulses. In the distance, the daemons were torn apart, either dispelling in clouds of ash or melting into puddles of blood on the floor.

As the door opened further, larger creatures, more in line with Rarity's initial ideas of daemons than the quasi-ponies that surrounded them. They were tall, gangly, horned and bore either flaming swords or wicked claws. They charged forwards, slower than their brethren but less vulnerable. Concentrated fire brought them down, that or the fire of a tank's cannon.

When the first tank fired, Rarity thought it had exploded. She had heard cannons before, especially Pinkie Pie's party cannon, but nothing like this. Like a clap of thunder, a glowing blue blob, swirling with lightning, launched out of the barrel, slamming into one of the larger daemons with an audible thud, before it detonated in a brilliant flash of colour and rush of noise. The daemon was atomised, with those around it being reduced to red clouds that hovered aimlessly before gradually dispelling as more and more creatures ran by.

There followed a larger creature, similar to Tirek though bourne on two goat's legs. It stood twice as tall as the largest other daemon, holding a crimson war axe and its flaming eyes set on the Command Post. With a guttural roar the creature charged, its brethren close around to shield it from attack. The fliers formed physical shields, intercepting projectiles before they could get close, whilst the horned pony-daemons formed rudimentary magical shields around the creature, giving their own lives to keep the energy charged.

Rarity took an unconscious step back, the front of the daemonic horde was uncomfortably close. The larger creature, joined in the rear by three more of its kind, was still quite a distance away, but the daemonic ponies had proven incredibly fast. By her estimate, it would be a few minutes before they reached the trenches, and then onwards to her post. It was clear the soldiers in the trenches knew this too, as they rotated back and forth on the firing parapet and their commanders took up positions at the front.

A soldier in a yellow Commander's cape rose out of the trench, a sword made of orange energy in their hand. They raised their weapon into the air, as a horn blared from their armour. It was followed by hundreds, then thousands more, as their brethren climbed ladders out of their trenches, either bearing swords just like the Commander or bayonets attached to their rifles. As the daemonic wave continued its rush forwards, a wave of white armour and orange bolts and swords rose to meet it.

The lines met in a brutal melee. White armour crashed against daemonic flesh as sword and bayonet tore a path towards the Gate. From far behind the trenches, with a terrible whistling, came a torrent of artillery fire. The centre and rear of the daemonic lines detonated, bodies were thrown hundred of metres in all directions. As the daemonic fliers circled overhead, readying for attack, a scream from the skies heralded the arrival of air support, sleek, silver craft sliced through the clouds like knives and tore at the fliers, whilst their larger brethren bombed the ground.

The battlefield became little more than a cacophony of noise and flashes, with Rarity immediately finding it impossible to follow the action. She could just barely see the Gate of Tartarus, which was now fully open, and marked by a shadow that was at least half of its overall size. It took the vague appearance of a bipedal, though one with massive horns and wings. Rarity hoped to every god there was that it wasn't and just a trick of the light.

To her horror, a titanic daemon crossed the threshold. It was similar in looks to the middle sized daemons, though at least a hundred metres tall, clad in black armour and with eyes and mouth that burned like a furnace. The wings on its back stretched out to their full span, shrouding half of the battlefield in darkness. To their merit, the soldiers continued to fight, though it was clear from the appearance of the largest creature that theirs was a losing battle. Even as the tanks rolled out of their firing pits to join the fight proper, tearing vast swathes into the daemons, Rarity despaired.

Yet, Luna still stood firm, barking orders to everyone who could listen. The artillery behind the lines changed its firing pattern, aiming mostly at the titan, which was staggered but not heavily damaged, the aircraft focused it where they could, though individual swings of its sword would rip entire squadrons from the air.

"Ma'am!" A soldier, a Commander by his cape, shouted from the trenches, his armour covered in dirt and blood, "the daemon is shielded. We can't damage it!"

"Continue fighting," Luna said, "kill its support."

The Commander nodded, drawing his sword and clambering from the trench, running back into the fray. Rarity would have shouted for him to come back, had her attention not been forcefully stuck to the titan that slowly waded through its allies towards the advancing line of soldiers.

The sky grew dark, as though the sun itself was gone, and the air seemed to freeze. Rarity shivered, certain this was the coldest she had ever been. The ground below, grey dirt and the odd scrap of dead shrubbery or grass, became covered in frost in an instant. The wind, which had been a light breeze previously, suddenly became a gale, before ceasing all together. The battlefield fell silent for a brief second, before an ethereal bellow filled it.

"Stand firm, soldiers of the Empire. Our enemies shall now know true power."

A beam of cyan light, surrounded by a writhing mass of black, flew from behind the line, impacting the largest daemon with an explosion of white. The creature was thrown backwards, a vast hole in its chest armour. From the point of impact emerged Emperor Nicholas, half the height of the daemon, his obsidian crown covered in runes glowing orange. His sword, Oathbreaker, was tinted with green and purple, and sliced through a pack of daemons with ease. In his left hand, he held aloft a sphere of darkness, whose black lightning arced out and destroyed any daemon that came close.

"Forwards!"

The Emperor roared, throwing the sphere forwards. In his hand, it was instantly replaced. The thrown sphere, meanwhile, impacted the ground, burrowing in. The ground was turned to liquid as rivers of light swum and spread just below its surface, sending arcs of cyan and black lightning up and into anything they came across. Half of the daemonic force was atomised in seconds, the other half gradually being hacked down by the Imperial soldiers.

The titanic daemon rose with a roar, injured but still definitely alive. Emperor Nicholas struck his sword into the ground, holding it in place, whilst he split the sphere into a channel between both his clawed hands. Slowly, he lifted his hands, causing the daemon to rise from the ground with a roar of confusion. As the daemon flailed to try and bring itself down, he rose it above the upper rim of the Gate, before steadily pulling his hands apart. The massive creature wailed as its armour began to rend and moan. A viscous, glowing liquid spilled from rapidly forming wounds, forming a small reservoir below it. The creature cried out in pain, before letting out a final wail as it split in two. The fire in its eyes and mouth went out, its blood dimming as its now halved form crumpled to the floor.

Nicholas let out a sigh of satisfaction, before grasping his sword again. With a single, spinning swipe, he cut another swathe through the daemons. The first of the Imperial soldiers reached him, covered in dirt, ash and blood, but rifle still in hand and bayonet alight. Nicholas smiled at them and the soldier nodded in return. They were soon joined by more of their comrades, as the daemons collapsed back against the tide of soldiers.

"Come," Nicholas said, "let us return to the trenches, and prepare the evacuation."

The soldiers began a march back, several running, the more tired preferring to walk. The injured were carried, either by an arm over the shoulder or on the backs of a comrade. Nicholas followed at the rear, ensuring no more daemons could harass the soldiers. The injured daemons were executed by the soldiers as they walked, some not even bothering to stop their march to shoot them. Nicholas dealt with what few of the larger daemons still lived, either slicing them in two with Oathbreaker or using his powers to simply end their lives.

When Nicholas reached the Command Post, he was greeted by relieved soldiers and Rarity held by Luna's wing. The unicorn was in a state of shock, only natural for her first experience of battle. Luna, nevertheless, was fine to speak.

"Is it clear?" She asked, pointing to the Gate with her horn.

"For now," Nicholas answered, "the evacuation ships are already inbound. How many ponies did you gather?"

"All you requested," Luna replied, "as well as at least ten thousand more. Why?"

Nicholas was silent for a moment, "we are to leave this planet."

Luna gasped, "what? Leave?"

"Yes, Luna." Nicholas crouched down to bring the two face to face, in his unshrunk form, he was almost twice her height. "This world is not safe, it has not been for some time now. Tartarus is open, its ancillary gates already spew forth daemonic cohorts. The purification has already begun, but the infection must not and cannot be allowed to spread beyond the atmosphere. If we evacuate, we save some of your species."

Luna's jaw quivered, and a single, minuscule tear rolled down her left cheek. "What will you do?" She asked, at last, "to the ponies?"

"They shall be reseeded elsewhere. Do not worry, Luna, your race will not go extinct. I know you care about them, but we must leave this planet with what we have. If we try to leave with everyone, we shall leave with no one."

Luna nodded. As much as she hated to admit it in this case, she knew he was right. "What of my sister? And Twilight Sparkle?"

"Twilight Sparkle is currently aboard the Day of Jubilance, I shall have her transferred when our reinforcement fleet assets arrive. Your sister is aboard the Spirit of Eternity. She too, shall be transferred soon. I have scattered the ponies about the fleet and none are currently on vessels still in atmosphere. All that is left is you, and Rarity, who shall be moving to the Night Truth."

The evacuation shuttles broke the cloud cover as he spoke, massive, mostly cuboidal vessels that were clearly for little more than ferrying up and down from a planet. Despite their ugliness and clear lack of aerodynamics, they were more than large enough to hold hundreds of thousands of people. Fifteen of them broke the cloud and began to land in the grey plains behind the trenches, with another lowering below the horizon to pick up the artillery. Nicholas led Luna, and the barely recovered Rarity, towards one of the shuttles, which was already filling with battered soldiers.

When they entered, Nicholas was greeted by cheers from the soldiers. He returned them with a simple nod, before raising his sword in salute, to which the crowd grew even louder in their support. As the shuttle's ramp closed, its maximum occupancy reached, two cruisers, identical to the one which had destroyed Canterlot, drifted through the clouds, their weapons already charged. Though they did not see the glassing, they heard it clearly. The sound of melting metal and stone, combined with the hum of the shuttle's engines and the roar of the beams, filled the bay.

To Rarity, it was terrifying, but Luna kept her wrapped in a wing and protected from the most of it. It was a mercifully short trip to the orbiting ship, which terrified Rarity even further, as well as entrancing her, when she looked out of the hangar shields.

"We," she stammered, "we are in space?"

Luna nodded. "Yes, yes we are."

"Wow."

Equestria from above was beautiful, verdant green plains, crystal blue oceans, golden deserts and emerald jungles all painted an image into Rarity's mind. She would make a dress of this, she decided, or perhaps many. Yes, she thought, a whole set dedicated to each of Equestria's diverse biomes. She planned them out in her head, the materials she would need, the techniques needed to create the product she desired. Sapphires for the oceans, peridot for the plains, emeralds for the jungles, golden sequins for the deserts, and rubies for the expanding stretches of melting ground.

What?

Rarity took another look. She fainted when she saw her home being burned. What had happened to Canterlot was happening all over Equestria. The land was being scorched by hovering, purple shapes, becoming nothing but ash and glass when they were finished. The only location she recognised before she blacked out was the Crystal Empire, visible from space through its unique biome. The massive, crystalline structures were melted, the grass incinerated and the snow that bordered it instantly vapourised.

It took little over an hour for all major population centres to be destroyed. Emperor Nicholas had retired to his personal quarters in the belly of the ship, his mind plagued with the screams of incredibly powerful psionic creatures. Luna, too, was stricken by the screams, they were not as strong as those in Nicholas' mind, but they hit her harder. They were, or should have been, her subjects, and now they were little more than ash on the wind. She knew her sister would have likely been hit too, probably even recognised many of the voices. She only recognised one, and even then only from a single word she had heard the pony say. She kneeled next to Rarity and let herself be taken by sorrow.

All ponies were afflicted by the screams, many broke out in tears, entirely inconsolable, others tried to end their lives, having to be restrained by the soldiers with them - with a small minority unable to be restrained. Celestia, as Luna had suspected, recognised a great many of the voices, and wept for their deaths. Iron Shield, by Celestia's side at the medical bed, allowed himself a single tear, before collapsing into his own hooves. From hundreds of miles above the surface, they watched the destruction of their home, the glassing of Equestria.

It was Twilight Sparkle, though, who was hit the hardest. Not for the destruction of Equestria, or the deaths of millions of ponies and millions of other creatures, but for the death of a friend; Pinkie Pie had not left the planet. Her pitiful cries were later silenced, as were all the tears of ponies, when a pair of blue beams impacted the surface. The planet, verdant green and crystalline blue, covered in scorch marks, cracked. Its atmosphere burned away instantly, its surface beginning to liquidise and shatter as its mantle froze on contact with the vacuum of space. For the briefest moment, Twilight caught a glimpse of Equestria's core, a hollow, perfect sphere of metal, insides visible only through a pair of holes cut into it by the beams, before it collapsed in on itself. Equestria was no more. Only continent sized chunks remained, all traces of life extinguished.

Twilight looked on at the sight, as did Rarity in a far off ship, with morbid fascination. There was something strangely beautiful about the slowly cooling remains below her. The core had clearly been artificial and nopony had ever seen the inner workings of the planet before. Nopony had also wielded such power before. The planet had been destroyed, cracked open like an egg, as if it was nothing. The chunks that now floated aimlessly in space were all that was left of her old home, but also a testament to those who had destroyed it. With only two beams, an entire world, teeming with life, had been rendered ash in an instant.

As her companions looked on, horrified, or too hardened to it already, Twilight laughed. "Beautiful," she said, her voice cracking, "beautiful."

Shining Armour said something to her, but her head was swirling and it was only audible as a faint hum. Cadance caught her body, with Twilight not having realised it had fallen. With a final word, "beautiful," Twilight's vision faded entirely, and she allowed herself to be taken by the realm of sleep.

The unicorn was roused from her sleep as she felt her horn tingle. The reason she reacted so violently to it, besides from the fact it had just woken her from what was quite possibly the most comfortable sleep of her life, was that the horn was inert and had no nerves in it, and was thus unfeelable. The fact she could feel it caused her some alarm.

Little did she know, every unicorn and alicorn all got the same sensation at the same time. All reacted in a manner of confusion - differing from Twilight's pacing and recitement of biological journals - besides Luna, who knew what was happening. She directed Rarity to the observation deck's window, telling her to look out into the void.

A tiny blip of purple quickly expanded, forming a black hole hundreds of kilometres in diameter, it was followed by thousands more, some smaller and other larger, then millions more. Soon, the whole sky was either black or lensed. From the first hole emerged a vessel, similar to the one she was on. From each hole emerged a vessel, from tiny, ugly, blocks of grey metal to massive warships that seemed almost artistic in their design. Each hole receded and vanished when its charge was borne, allowing the sky to again shine brightly as a background to the arrival of a force Rarity's mind could barely even comprehend.

A console blared to life to her left, an authoritative voice announcing itself over the speakers, "this is Imperial Grand Admiral Catherine Skye, to all Imperial ships. The Shadow of Sundered Star has arrived."

VI. Sundered Star

“To be inducted into the Shadow of Sundered Star was to join the hallowed ranks of the chosen of Emperor Nicholas, the first to follow his vision and prosecute his Imperial campaigns across the universes. Once, the Shadow of Sundered Star was all there was, now, however, it is the Empire’s greatest military formation - none have ever reached up to the vaunted status it holds. All other Imperial formations combined make up less than three-quarters of the awards that the Shadow of Sundered Star does, such has been their impact upon the history of the Imperial military.”

- Shadow of Sundered Star by Octavian Stephenson -

In 4026, Emperor Nicholas founded the Irenton Empire. His power was not merely political, but military. He declared, from Chronove, the Centre of Time, haloed by the ships of the Shadow of Sundered Star, the formation of an Empire that would eat the very stars. Over the next four thousand years, the Empire expanded mercilessly, the Glory of the Emperor spread far and wide, until the very stars were shrouded by his vessels. At the centre of the Empire's fleets, stood the Shadow of Sundered Star, the Emperor's might made manifest.

Such was the fury of their arrival in the system, the star's brightness increased by half a percent, and the shattered remnants of Equestria had their orbits fluctuate. Those ponies who saw fit to observe found themselves staring into strength itself. Beyond the observation windows, hovering at 1 AU at the closest, were ten million ships of all classes, united in their shared, fanatic loyalty to the Emperor's vision.

"This is the Nexus World?" A Captain questioned, surrounded by at least two hundred of his kin, "it is in ruin, and no artefacts remain."

"What would any artefacts even do?" Another interjected, adding to the first's point, "there was no reason for us to come here."

The statement caused a murmurous uproar, a hundred opinions being expressed and debated at once. One of the assembled shouted for order, but was quickly drowned out as the murmurs rose.

"Silence!" One finally bellowed, crimson armour covered in cobalt and silver embellishments, a Zealot, "we were called here for a purpose. The Nexus World is long since abandoned and left to dust, let us fulfil our duty."

Another uproar, though this one more in agreement with the Zealot.

"Kyhron, Son of the Emperor, has called us here for a purpose. To question him is to question the Emperor. He has called us all into assembly, aboard the Night Truth. We shall receive our orders there."

A Vice Commodore, identified by half black and white cape, spoke up, "they say our siblings assault the edge of dimensions, that a War in Heaven has begun."

"It matters not," the Zealot replied, "our duty is here, and now, nowhere else."

The assembled commanders either began to file out of the chamber, or deactivated their holographic communicators. Before long, only a pair of Zealots and a Captain remained.

"Captain Andrews," one of the Zealots said, "you should return to the bridge."

Captain Andrews stood tall, though was still a head shorter than the shortest Zealot. "An encoded message was sent to you from the Spirit of Eternity, neither source nor contents were visible."

"You are not authorised to view it, Captain."

"I am the commander of this vessel, it is my duty to know what goes on in my ship."

The Zealot stepped closer, looming over the Captain. "It is your duty to serve the Empire, Captain. You would be wise to remember that and remember your place."

Captain Andrews breathed in, as if to begin speaking, before they shook their head in barely contained anger and stormed out. They thought for a moment about entering the Zealots' quarters on the way, but shook off the thought. Despite their arrogance, it was a little more than a crime to enter another's quarters without valid reason, especially a Zealot. Much as they hated to admit it, the Zealots had more than likely done nothing wrong. They gave the Zealots' doors a look, before continuing to the bridge.

The Night Truth's hangar was filled with Captains, Commodores and Admirals of all kinds. Groups conversed amongst themselves, trying to suss out the reasoning for the meeting. Several debated the reasons for destroying the planet below them, with others questioning what it was to begin with. Soon, they were all silenced by the arrival of Kyhron.

The Prince of Darkness was followed by Luna, who drew the eyes of a fair few of the officers. "Commanders," he said, "this is Princess Luna, she is a servant of the Emperor, just as you are. You will afford her the proper respect."

An Admiral, identified by their golden cape, rose from his seat. Kyhron prepared to kill them, tightening his grip on his sword minutely. The Admiral snapped to attention, saluting with their fist slamming their left chest. The rest of the officers quickly followed. Kyhron released his grip slightly, pleased at the reaction.

"Now, you will be silent, and prepare to receive your orders."

The officers sat in silence for a minute, waiting for Kyhron to continue. When he didn't, one or two started to murmur amongst themselves, before their fellows, or a look from Kyhron silenced them. Eventually, a shadow walked out of the bulkhead that led to the belly of the ship. All the officers were stunned into stillness, even Luna felt the weight of the new presence.

"Your predecessors served, millennia ago." The shadow began to take physical shape. "They served with courage, strength and conviction of will. They served the Empire. They served me. For thousands of years I was trapped inside the Time Rift and now, finally, I am free. Rejoice, warriors of the Empire, rejoice! For your Emperor has returned."

He was met with silence, before the assembled crowd broke out into thunderous cheers. The Emperor lifted his clawed hand to silence them. "You will each be given your specific orders. But the Hand of Fate must be prepared for my arrival. The Shadow of Sundered Star shall be the first of the old orders to begin its mission. The War in Heaven, the conflict that shall determine the fate of the entire Omniverse, has begun, and the Irenton Empire and all the free peoples of the Omniverse shall emerge victorious. Now go, to your ships, prepare to receive your orders."

Nicholas left as quickly as he had arrived, clearing the hangar bay as the first of the many transports began to arrive. It had been over 12,000 years since he had stepped foot in the Hand of Fate, his personal vessel since the beginning of the Empire. It was an old vessel, even by Imperial standards, initially laid down 17,000 years ago. It was the first of the Sovereign Class Carriers to be constructed during the age of the Empire, an enormous vessel at over two hundred and seventy kilometres long, equipped with tens of thousands of fighters and fleet killing armaments. It was bulbous, with a whale-like front and sleek silhouette.

He could see its hull in the distance, he had ordered it plated in silver, covering the original purple. As such, it shone brightly as the starlight reflected from it. To him, it was a beautiful ship, even battle scarred as it was. It would be good to visit his quarters again.

He stopped, reaching out into the darkness of the dreamscape. He straightened as he did so, before making the split decision to contact his Admiral, "Admiral Baal," he knew the message would reach them eventually, "transport the following ponies to the Hand of Fate..."

The personal suites on the Hand of Fate were luxurious in comparison to the cabins on the other vessels. Luna quickly found herself in the spa, having been practically dragged there by the unstoppable force of Rarity. Emperor Nicholas, meanwhile, along with Twilight, Iron Shield and Celestia, found themselves in the library. Twilight had squealed with joy when she saw it, three floors of immense shelving and a supply of quite literally otherworldly texts to choose from.

The first book she found, she removed from the shelves, quickly realising she had no idea how to read the script within. It was a series of runes, differing from those on Luna's horn in a number of ways. Nicholas had stepped up to her, his form greatly reduced in size and his massive Obsidian Crown removed, revealing a brownish-red, smooth head of bone with no ears. Iron Shield tensed at his approach, but Celestia was able to make him stand down, before walking him aside and into the labyrinth of literature.

Nicholas pulled up a chair next to Twilight. He observed the text for a moment before pointing to the first set of runes, "each one is a word. This particular word reads 'inspired'."

To Twilight's surprise, the runes of the first word shifted to read 'inspired' in the Ponish alphabet. Nicholas continued reading out the words, each one translating automatically as he did so. The text was quickly revealed to be a history text, telling the story of the 'Perseus Acquisition'. According to Nicholas, it was around 12,000 years before their current time.

"How old is this book?" Twilight asked.

"About the same age as the ship," Nicholas replied, "give or take about a decade. So, about 12,000 as well."

Twilight stared at the paper, before poking it with a hoof. "It can't be," she said, "it would have decayed by now. And there's no way this ship is 12,000 years old, it looks brand new from outside and inside."

Nicholas chuckled, "Imperial designs are ancient. Just as I am. I remember when Luna was just a child, she must have been barely six when I first met her."

Twilight looked at Nicholas, shocked, then the shock grew as she saw him warmly smiling. He chuckled, "I have lived many lives, seen enough for the entire universe to be satisfied. When this War is over, that shall be my end. Twilight, we are in the twilight of my life, ironically enough. Maybe, if all goes well, this vessel can be yours, one day. Anyways, we're getting off track. This word reads 'heralded'."

Nicholas, Master of Time, was also the master of multi-tasking. Not only was his brain quite literally the size of a star system, residing in a pocket universe, but he was also three different people. Very few knew this about Nicholas, if any did at all, but his soul was split amongst three different 'incarnations'. The first, was Emperor Nicholas, The Everlasting, able to completely project his soul into a physical form in the material universe. This incarnation was now speaking to Twilight Sparkle, guiding her through the basics of the Irenton language and the history book she was reading. The second, was Nicholas, The Composer, residing in the pocket universe of Entropy's Pinnacle. This incarnation was listening to Iron Shield and Celestia's conversations through the thin walls between universes. The third, and final, was Nicholas, Emperor of Sorrows, residing in the Mindscape - the sum of all psionic powers where all thoughts and dreams reside - and observing everything from his home in the Heart of Sorrow. This incarnation was trawling through Iron Shield and Celestia's thoughts, motives and hopes through their imprints in the Mindscape.

It took only a minute to gather enough evidence to confirm his suspicions about them both. Regardless, he kept listening in, content to deal with them and their allies later. For now, The Everlasting would assist Twilight Sparkle. She was a fast learner, so teaching her the fundamentals of an alien language would likely not take too long.

Hours later, he bid the yawing Twilight goodnight. A pair of Fusiliers, the soldiers of the Irenton Empire, walked her back to her room, whilst Emperor Nicholas spoke into the void. He enlisted the aid of The Composer, who was glad to hear the news the Emperor brought.

Iron Shield would be dealt with quickly by a squad of marines, whilst Nicholas would deal with Celestia. Those Fusiliers he knew loyal he placed on alert, informing them of confirmed and potential traitors. As he walked the corridors in silence, he saw Fusiliers stalking doors, with others hiding in the darkness, ready to strike. The corridor to Celestia's cabin was blocked off by Fusiliers, who parted silently when they saw him, forming a barrier behind.

Her door was locked, but a Fusilier already had the wall panel off and was forcing their way inside. Their fellow, rifle in hand, moved back down the corridor to allow the Emperor forwards. The working Fusilier held up two fingers with their left hand, whilst their right cut a wire with pliers. Nicholas lay his sword against the corridor's wall, ensuring he was directly in front of the door when the Fusilier got it open.

With a spark from the panel, the door clicked and jumped open. The Fusilier ducked back, their fellow coming forwards to cover their escape. As they back stepped out, Nicholas crossed the threshold and entered the room. The lights were all off, and it was clear from the faint snoring that Celestia was asleep. Nicholas willed the door behind him shut and lock, which it promptly did, causing Celestia to mumble something as she dreamed.

"A great crime," Nicholas said, causing Celestia to instantly awaken, fear emanating from her, "has been committed this day."

Celestia launched from her bed, horn bright with magic, but was caught before she could go any further. Nicholas had his left hand raised, with Celestia cased in an invisible field of pure will. Her magic, try as it might to set her free, was useless, as were her legs and wings. She struggled for a moment, before sinking into the field, her defeat accepted.

"Celestia," Nicholas said, "a great many times have you jeopardised my plans, a great many times have you betrayed me. And yet, was I anything but kind to you? For a thousand years I gifted you strength." He tightened his grip, Celestia beginning to feel her life draining away. "For a thousand years I gave you purpose." Celestia's vision began to grey. "For a thousand years I gave you life." She suddenly felt a shooting pain from the heart in her chest. She cried out in pain and lashed against her restraints, to no avail. "and you conspire against me? You conspire with the Light, greatest enemy of all life? You rally my own against me? Yes, Celestia, I know, right now they are being caught. All it took was for one officer to do their duty and your whole plan came apart. Iron Shield is now dead. A pity, every one of your species lost now is a loss that will be sorely felt for years to come. Fortunately, only one other followed you, their madness is being corrected as we speak. As for you, it seems Luna's punishment was not enough. I believe it is time for you to again meet The Composer."

“No,” she mumbled, “please.”

A pool of green opened below her, like a wound in reality. Tendrils, black wreathed in cyan, reached out to Celestia's hovering form. They slowly wrapped around her legs and torso, before her metaphysical restraints were no longer required. The tendrils suspended her, Celestia's attempts to escape granting her no room for movement. Slowly, she was dragged down, through the swirling pool of green and black. A voice, from within the pool, an ethereal whisper, spoke, "thank you," it said, "she will be excellent." Celestia screamed as she was violently pulled through the pool, which closed behind her with a pop.

A golden tiara twinkled on the ground, Nicholas lifting it and regarding it for a moment. It was clearly fitted to a pony's head, but couldn't have been Celestia's, it was too small. It was also oddly simple, with only a four pointed navy blue star as decoration. The door opened behind him, a pair of Fusiliers flanking a black armoured Admiral entering. The Admiral stopped before Nicholas, whilst the Fusiliers sweeped the room.

It took the Admiral a few seconds to figure out what had happened. "There will be uproar about this."

"I know," Nicholas said, "contact the Sin of Damnation, I shall speak to one of our guests."

The Sin of Damnation was a Truth Class Light Cruiser, physically identical in appearance to that which burned Canterlot. Within, it was mostly empty of soldiers, aside from the bridge, engineering deck and hangar bay. Nicholas could hear the reason why, chittering and skittering above and below him as he stepped out from his transport. He was met with the Captain of the vessel, flanked by a squad of Fusiliers.

"My Emperor," The Captain saluted, "she is ready for you."

"Good. Leave us, Captain."

The soldiers turned and filed out, leaving the hangar containing only Nicholas. Eventually, the door opened again, revealing a series of pony shaped shadows, along with one shaped similar to an alicorn. The smaller shadows spread out rapidly, practically surrounding Nicholas as the larger slowly drew closer. In the light of the hangar, she stood around seven foot tall, with black, chitinous skin, a long, crooked horn and insect-like wings.

"Queen Chrysalis," Nicholas said, looking the Changeling in the eyes, "my apologies for those I missed of your species and my apologies we have not had time to speak since the destruction of the planet."

"I know you saved all you could," she said, casting a motherly gaze about her buzzing children, "even one saved is more than most would have done. Your kindness to the Changelings cannot be understated." Chrysalis gestured with a hoof towards the door. "Come," she said, "let us walk."

"I have come to ask a favour," Nicholas said, following the Changeling, "the ponies we evacuated from Equestria will become restless if what I have done tonight is revealed."

"And what is that?"

"Your old enemy, Celestia, is now dead. As is one of her sergeants. This presents some problems, given the fanatic loyalty of her subjects."

Chrysalis looked at him for a moment. "This is good news for me," she admitted, "but what does your favour have to do with this?"

"I need a Princess Celestia," he said, "one that will not try to rally my own soldiers against me. Only for a time, of course, eventually pony loyalties will be properly established and even then Celestia will not always be needed. But their suspicions will grow if their leader vanishes without a trace."

"And you wish me to be it?"

"Your shapeshifting powers are second to none and you are the only one capable of recreating Celestia's appearance and voice."

Chrysalis was silent and still, considering the request. “Well," she said, slowly, "you did save my people and you killed Celestia. So, I suppose I do owe you. Very well, but I cannot keep in that position the entire time and I want to remain with my people."

"Done," Nicholas said, "I will only need Celestia for broadcast purposes, regardless."

"Ponies of Equestria," Celestia spoke over the telescreens in every pony's room, "I know you are afraid, confused and angry. But, do not fear, I shall explain everything. Equestria, our former home, was dying. We left our world to seek a new home amongst the stars, along with our newest friends in the Irenton Empire. For now, you see them as the ones who destroyed your world, but soon, just as I have, you shall see them as our greatest benefactors. Even now, plans are being drawn up to seed worlds with pony life, to allow Equestria to breathe as a hundred new planets, forming a new pony civilisation. It is the Irenton Empire, led by Emperor Nicholas, who shall help us in this. I urge you all to work with them, work with all of us. Equestria may be gone, but its people are not."

VII. Shield World

“The Dauxite Assembly once lorded over much of the Sea of Stars. Their power was ancient and immense, but, regardless, they fell. Their strength made them weak, imprudent and unwise. The Irenton Empire will not succumb to this same fate. The Irenton people must be kept fighting, kept strong but reminded keenly of their weaknesses. There can be no room for imprudence in my Empire.”

- Lessons from the Dauxite Assembly for the development of the Empire by Emperor Nicholas -

The first pony encounter with Rift travel, a method of transportation by which a portal through the dimension known as the Rift is opened to allow near instant transportation from one place to another, should, and indeed would, have been a more celebrated occasion. Instead, it happened when nearly all were asleep, save Twilight Sparkle, who was reading in the Hand of Fate's library, and Luna, who was being briefed on their destination.

"Luna," Kyhron called, "our briefing is not yet finished."

The alicorn ignored him, pressing her hoof to the observation window as the swirling mass of multitudinous colours that was the Rift came into view. Though it was only there for a second, Luna could sense the voices within. She listened to their wisdom, which told her of a certain event during the previous night.

"Nicholas," she said, not turning from the window, which steadily faded to the void of space as they transitioned, "where is my sister?"

Nicholas remained silent, with Kyhron answering in his stead, "dead," he said, "for her sake, I would hope so."

"Why was I not informed?"

"Because," Nicholas said, "you would have tried to stop me. Celestia betrayed us both, but her status is still needed."

"Then who gave that broadcast?"

Nicholas considered lying, but eventually deigned it prudent enough to tell, "Queen Chrysalis, a Changeling. I did not save only ponies."

"Regardless." Kyhron brought them back to the briefing. "The Shield World awaits. As I was saying previously, Cradle is what the Empire refers to as a Shield World."

Nicholas interrupted him, "Cradle holds a great deal of ancient artefacts, and it is what ties our world to the Aether via the Beacon of Abaddon. Though it may appear like a broken world, it is a construct of an ancient empire, far advanced to our own. It holds the key to accessing the Aether and will provide us a suitable base of operations with which to advance our plans."

He paused a moment, allowing Luna to absorb the information, before continuing, "the Light's forces, whether its daemons or those it has fooled to fight for it, currently control the one part of Cradle we need, the Core. The Core contains all of the control systems, including the activation facilities for a series of portals that will allow us to access not only the Aether but any area of material space. Also contained within the Core's outer layers is the cartography facility, this is what will allow us to navigate the area. Luna, you will be landing to secure the portal controls, this task must be completed quickly, to prevent the Light destroying the Shield World completely. Kyhron will accompany you, along with Marshall-Commander Tyor and his Quadrant Legion. I, meanwhile, will move on the cartography facility, supported by Commander Traal's Division. Luna, Rarity will be with you, and Twilight and the rest of her friends with me. If our scans are correct, securing the cartography facility will be easy, with the portals being far harder. That's why I'm also assigning you Rear Admiral Warren's Battlecluster, they will provide fire support wherever you need. The both of you must complete this task with the utmost care, the portals are delicate and we do not have the capacity to fix them should they be damaged. Once the activation facilities are secure, contact me and I will begin landing more troops."

Luna nodded, as did Kyhron, and Nicholas gestured for them to leave and prepare. Luna left last, shooting Nicholas a glance as she did so. "I hope," she said, not entirely looking at him, "that it was worth it."

Nicholas didn't answer, Luna leaving the room the moment she finished her sentence. He knew it was, his simulations confirmed that, but there was still a strange twinge of guilt deep within him. Celestia had definitely trusted him, at least up until recently, and had he just sold her out, so to speak? She may have betrayed him, or been trying to, but had he protected her from Luna would she have? He hadn't even checked the simulations as to that, he'd become complacent. His complacency with knowing his end result would be what he wanted had made him make such decisions. He wouldn't admit it to Luna but he knew that there could have been another months worth of evacuations from Equestria. He could have saved almost all ponies, along with the majority of other species on the world before it needed to be destroyed.

Cradle came steadily into view, like a glowing eye against the twinkling darkness of space. It was like a world half finished, a giant gap inside of its crust which revealed a hollow space holding a small star caught in an energy shield. It was clear that, just below the natural appearance of the outside, that the world was artificial. Massive girders of metal, larger than cities, created grids to stabilise the upper crust. The Core, made up of a series of massive platforms floating within the hollow space, attaching themselves to the energy shield around the star to refuel and recharge, was visible, giving the tasked Fleets their targets. Warren's Battlecluster, eleven Truth class light cruisers, led by a Sovereign class carrier, broke off from the main fleet and closed in on the world. Closely following them was the Night Truth, with Princess Luna aboard, and the Crown of Ash, with Kyhron aboard. The Crown of Ash looked near identical to a Sovereign Class, but was twice the size: a Judgement Class Supercarrier.

Emperor Nicholas, meanwhile, would be taking solely the Hand of Fate. The cartography facility, unlike the Core, would be easily accessed, sitting comfortably just within the crust of the world. The Fusiliers aboard would be more than a match for any forces in the facility, though any more than a division would likely cause unnecessary and unwanted traffic and supply issues.

The Hand of Fate turned slowly towards its target, which its scans had identified as a large platform approximately twenty five kilometres long and fifteen wide. It was predominantly artificial taiga forest, with a large construct housing an underground bunker in the perfect centre, where the map room was almost certainly located. The soldiers he had enlisted for this mission had already been briefed, though the ponies would need to be awoken and then brought up to speed. Fortunately, it did not take long for the former to occur.

The ship rocked suddenly as three projectiles impacted the port side bow. The previously invisible shield rippled orange all over, areas of damage appearing more red. Within a second, alarms were blaring, the lights were reddened and automatic calls of "battle stations," began broadcasting on all decks. Nicholas rose from his chair, making his way to the observation deck's door as a further five projectiles impacted, in similar locations to the previous. As he made his way through the gunmetal grey corridors of the Hand of Fate, squads of Fusiliers, engineers and any spare crew members ran by, and the halls were filled with the throaty rumble of the ship's cannons returning fire.

The residential suites were deep in the ship's belly, far from the guns and bombardment. They were, however, still a hive of activity. Soldiers ran back and forth, some assisting engineers performing scans and maintenance on various components, whilst others escorted ponies to safety zones. Nicholas was soon joined by an armoured up Commander Traal, along with a squad of Fusiliers. The Emperor informed the soldiers who they needed to bring to the library, where his briefing would be held, whilst he would attend to Twilight Sparkle.

Twilight's room was crammed with books, everything from fiction works to historical texts were scattered over every available table space, cabinet and shelf. Twilight was on her bed, levitating a pair of books with her magic, with a third laid out on the bed in front of her as her horn provided light.

"Twilight," Nicholas said, drawing the alicorn's gaze, "I require you in the library, come, we have no time to waste."

The library was noticeably darker and every so often shook as the result of impacts on the hull dozens of kilometres away. Four ponies sat around a table, Emperor Nicholas above them, surrounding a holographic projector. With a flash of blue, a holographic model of Cradle appeared, showing the current location of the Imperial ships moving towards it, as well as their minuscule size in comparison to the enormous construct. Twilight studied it intently, whilst Rainbow immediately began blurting out questions.

"Is that us?" She said, pointing to the minute, bulbous silhouette of the Hand of Fate. At Nicholas' affirmative, she mumbled, "cool," before asking another question, "what's happening outside?"

"We are under attack," Nicholas said, "the Light's forces have managed to activate some of Cradle's defence systems. These are designed more for point defence, so our shields will easily hold them off. However, we must secure our objectives before they are capable of activating the more dangerous systems."

It was Twilight who spoke next, silencing Rainbow just before she spoke again, "what are our objectives?"

Nicholas, with a gesture of opening his hand, zoomed the projector in, focusing on the area surrounding the cartography platform, with the Hand of Fate's bow slowly coming into view. "Here." He pointed to the platform. "This is a cartography facility, essentially a map room to the whole of Cradle. This is our personal objective. We shall be supported by a division of ground troops, along with air support from the Hand of Fate. Meanwhile."

He made another gesture of closing his hand, zooming the projector back out again, before repeating the zoom to a separate area, around the Core. A series of platforms, far larger than the cartography platform, hovered around a miniature star surrounded by an energy shield. Many of the platforms were covered in structures that were clearly buildings, with each having a large, cylindrical complex in the centre.

“This," Nicholas said, pointing to the largest of the platforms, with five smaller cylinders on the vertices joined to the centre cylinder by beams of light, "is the portal control facility, essentially the most important structure in the planet. Luna, Kyhron and a large force of troops are headed there to secure it."

"Is that where Rarity is?" Applejack asked, pointing with her hoof.

"It's where she will be," Nicholas zoomed out again, before focusing in on the advancing Battlecluster, "she is aboard this ship," he pointed to the Night Truth, which looked functionally identical to most of the other ships in the cluster.

"Woah," Rainbow exclaimed under her breath, before pointing to the largest vessel, "What's that one?"

"That is the Crown of Ash, Kyhron's personal vessel. It is a Judgement Class Supercarrier, this particular model a little over 4,000 years old. It replaced his previous vessel, the Shattered Throne, after he rammed it into a hyperweapon. I always thought the name was a little tasteless."

"What do we do?" Twilight asked.

Nicholas looked over the ponies for a moment, as if contemplating how best to assign them. "Rainbow Dash." He pointed to the flier, who immediately perked up, raring to go. "You will assist the landing of the ground forces, and ensure that we retain our airpower. Applejack, you shall assist the ground forces in the second wave, ensure at the very least we have a logistical corridor. Fluttershy, you shall be working with the medics, I shall assign you a partner and the necessary supplies."

The ponies nodded at their assignments, with Fluttershy looking concerned as to what a medic would exactly entail. Twilight, meanwhile, sat and waited, with Nicholas looking her over for about a minute before deciding.

"Twilight, you shall come with me. We will move into the facility and secure the map room. If you're lucky, maybe you'll be able to find something to decode. The makers of this Shield World had a language specifically used by their machines, I'm sure you'll find translating that an intellectually enriching experience." He paused before saying intellectually, immediately filling Twilight with joy. Hesitation on that point suggested difficulty and she very much enjoyed intellectual difficulty.

When they reached the hangar bay, they found it alive with action, Fusiliers boarded dropships and loaded vehicles. The group was cut off by a tank as it trundled forwards towards a transport. Rainbow expressed a great interest in the fighters, especially when their engines roared out and they sped through the hangar's shield. Applejack, meanwhile, took similar interest in the tanks, in particular a Mauler class, the size of a building. She broke off from the group, trotting up to a pair of Fusiliers, with brown capes on their shoulders, who were standing at its back.

"Erm." She drew the attention of the two. "Can ah get in?"

They looked at her for a second, before one turned to Nicholas and elbowed their comrade. "Hop aboard," they said, "we're launching in 5."

Applejack took a tentative step up the tank's extended ramp, before a squad of Fusiliers marched past her to take seats in the troop bay. She pushed on, taking a seat as more troops piled in. Finally, twelve soldiers, all with brown capes on their left shoulders, stepped in, marching up the stairwell in the centre of the bay to access the controls. After a few minutes, the engine roared and the ramp slowly lifted and closed. The tank shook as two metallic clunks echoed through it and Applejack tensed as she felt herself lift off.

Rainbow tried similar with a fighter, a Rapture-116, but Nicholas pulled her back by a wing. "No," he said, "there is no atmosphere outside the shield, you will die." Rainbow appeared to get the point.

Nicholas led them to a dropship, with a handful of soldiers within, one of which greeted Fluttershy as she entered, handing her a white metal box marked with a red rune. "Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, this dropship will transport you to the platform. I shall take Twilight personally. Go."

The dropship lifted slowly, its doors shutting and speeding off through the shield, surrounded by dozens of others and joining a swarm of advancing fighters and transports. Twilight and Nicholas, meanwhile, marched towards a bulkhead near the hangar's main door. Stepping through it, an airlock was revealed, with a collection of suits designed for the larger and bipedal soldiers hanging to the walls.

Nicholas brought Twilight close to his chest. "I will project a field," he said, "it will keep you safe until we land on the platform. Stay as close to me as possible and try not to move around too much."

He wrapped his wings around her, with Twilight then feeling a tingle on her fur as a thin black sheen covered her. She kept her breathing steady and calm, she recalled as best she could her depressurisation training when she was back on Equestria, keep calm, keep still, keep your eyes closed and hope. She caught a glimpse of Nicholas grasping a red lever out of the corner of her eye as she closed it, a second later hearing a thump, followed by a whoosh and quickly finding herself the wrong way up.

Foolishly, curiosity got the better of her and she opened her eyes. She saw, through a tiny sliver in Nicholas' surrounding wings, the vaguely green platform fast approaching. Tiny orange and golden flashes covered it, likely the gun fire of the troops fighting for it, as well as a swarm of locust-like ships surrounding it. She recognised Applejack's tank, or a model similar to it, flanked by a pair of sleek, silver fighters and four regular dropships. She smiled slightly, it was an incredible sight, space travel.

Suddenly, a golden blob impacted the tank-laden dropship, which detonated silently and careered off into the darkness below, flaming and gradually collapsing, she slammed her eyes shut and hoped to everyone who would listen that it wasn't Applejack's tank. The fighters that had shadowed it sped forwards, engines glowing a deep orange, towards the source of the missile. Meanwhile, another formation, made up of a dozen fighters in a diamond, flew in front of Nicholas and Twilight. As they neared the platform, one of the fighters was hit, its wing shearing off and its left engine bursting into blue flames, venting a dark purple gas into space. Regardless, it continued, before eventually veering off to return to the Hand of Fate. Its fellows, however, arrived safely, firing off a hail of blue trailed rocket fire and orange energy bolts. The landing zone, a small, snow covered clearing ringed with trees, was blown apart, the crater giving Nicholas a covered place to land.

Considering they had just fallen from space, the landing was surprisingly graceful. Nicholas slowly lowered Twilight, who regained her footing slowly and carefully. To her immediate relief, a tank, identical to Applejack's, rolled by the edge of the crater, the ramp dropping in its front to reveal a wall of soldiers, a familiar orange earth pony amongst them. Nicholas had climbed to the edge of the crater, surveyed the battlefield and beckoned Twilight forwards. She emerged to a scene of chaos.

The first wave had experienced clear difficulties, not least in that half of them were dead. Tanks, of the smaller but no less dangerous Skirmisher class, identical to those seen in the firing pits on Equestria, lay broken and burning all around. Several of their fellows, dropped with the second wave, thundered from the forest, firing off bolts from their twin cannons and laying waste to the tree line ahead. In their attempt to cross the open field and reach the trees, where the enemy were likely dug in, nearly a thousand Fusiliers had been killed or otherwise incapacitated. Soldiers, some missing limbs and others covered in burn marks, carried their badly wounded comrades from the field and into makeshift foxholes, where medical personnel, Fluttershy amongst them, waited.

The opposing tree line exploded, two dozen bombers having sped overhead. As the grey streaks returned for another pass, and new streaks of silver, marking the fighters, began to arrive, Twilight caught a glimpse of cyan, which she knew without doubt was Rainbow Dash. As she took in the battlefield in its entirety, Nicholas was already rallying for an attack.

From the small ridgeline that marked the start of the field, a few hundred Fusiliers rose, charging forwards, covered by everything from tank shells, to rockets and cannonfire from fighters. Golden pellets, no larger than a tooth, came in a vast wall from the opposing tree line, slamming into the advancing Fusiliers and knocking down at least a hundred. In response, the tanks roared, firing as they too began an advance. Medics, identified either by being a yellow pegasus, or by the red rune on their left shoulder plate, sprinted behind them, assisting whoever they could find as Nicholas and Twilight marched forwards.

Several blobs were fired at Nicholas, each about the size of Twilight's head, each one effortlessly deflected by a single flick of Oathbreaker. Soon, Nicholas broke into a run, scooping up Twilight with one hand and placing her on his shoulder. It took only a few strides to reach the advancing soldiers, whose rifles sang a shrill and deadly song. Shapes appeared in the tree line, strange creatures clad in gold and white clothing, odd in its seeming lack of armour value. They all had a lack of various facial features, some with no ears, others with no eyes or even some without lower jaws. In their hands, they carried sword-like implements, though used them like guns. They stood, kneeled or lay in a thin layer of golden white goo, which Twilight estimated, from previous encounters, was the result of their deaths.

Nicholas slowed, easily keeping up with the advancing soldiers. Several would fall, being left behind in seconds as the group continued its frontal charge. Medics swarmed in the rear, like bees to a flower, tending to the injured and pulling them off the field into the safer surrounding trees. As the advancing troops hit the tree line, a thousand bayonets and swords blazed to life, the chorus of electrical crackles drowned out all noise as they swung in to their targets. The malformed creatures defending the line were cut apart with ease, screeching into the void as they died. Despite their proficiency at range, they were next to useless in the melee, their sword-like rifles proving to be range weapons only. The defending line collapsed in moments, the physically larger and better equipped Fusiliers overpowering them.

The Fusiliers left a corridor for Nicholas, who cut through dozens of creatures with just one swing of Oathbreaker. The creatures practically threw themselves at him, allowing time for their brethren to retreat towards the grey metal of the cartography facility's building. Sure enough, those that died slowly melted into puddles of white and gold goo, slowing the Imperial advance somewhat as the Fusiliers waded through. Eventually, the Fusiliers parted, allowing the tanks to cut a path through the forest and towards the facility.

The base was an octagon of grey metal, with a large spire extending some fifty feet above it and topped with a pulsing blue sphere. The Light's creatures swarmed over it, with several hundred outside and the rest fleeing within. With guttural screams, the creatures slammed the bulkhead door behind them, before charging the tanks.

A pair of Skirmishers were boarded, the creatures tearing into their compartments and pulling out the soldiers within. Armed only with pistols, the crews desperately fought off their attackers. Loud zaps filled the air as red laser bolts erupted from the opened tanks. The infantry sprinted forth to assist, dragging and beating the creatures off their comrades. A pair of brown caped tank crew survived, one with their left arm removed, the other with a gash through their helmet, revealing grey eyes and pale skin. The light grey and purple pistol was covered in lumps of death goo, clearly having discharged it at close range.

Three hundred infantry quickly joined the battered lead tanks, supported by another pair of Skirmishers. Even with the vehicles clearing space, there was room for little more in the approach to the entrance, the Fusiliers having to squeeze past the derelict vehicles. Nicholas, Twilight behind him, flew overhead, observing the battle and firing off writhing bolts of darkness whenever the opposing creatures began to clump together. Below, Fusiliers clambered on top of the damaged tanks, some climbing within to fire the cannons. Other of their comrades entered the driving seats, putting them into drive and charging into the enemy lines.

These creatures were far more adapted for melee combat than their fellows, the first few Fusiliers in the line attesting to that as they were grappled and torn at by dozens at a time. Several fell before their comrades pulled them back, letting off hails of orange rifle fire as they moved with the cover of the tanks. A dropship flew in over head, firing off large, blue blobs of plasma which blew holes into the horde of creatures. The combined strength of the infantry's volley fire, the tank's straight advance and the gunship above quickly broke the line, the infantry pushing until they reached the closed entrance to the facility.

Nicholas and Twilight landed, stepping up to the front of the line as two Fusiliers in heavy power armour attempted to pry the door open. Their armour was steel grey and essentially widened them by twice. Each stood a head and shoulders above the largest Fusilier, with the shape of their faces somewhat evidenced in their rebreather-like helmets, which held black, soulless lenses. One noticed Nicholas approaching, tapping his comrade on the shoulder, the two rose and separated from the door, before being joined by several others.

"Door's locked, sir," one said, voice robotic and modulated, "it'll take a lot to break in."

Nicholas raised a hand, tendrils of shadow extending from it. The tendrils touched the door tentatively, before diffusing into its inner workings, eventually causing a click to arise from the wall panel. "Fortunately," Nicholas said as the door parted, "I have a lot."

Two heavy armoured Fusiliers entered, bearing massive rotary cannons. The ammunition alone, in a circular drum below, was about the size of Twilight's torso, with the cannon itself nearly double her length. The atrium they entered in to was pitch black, though it was clear something was moving within. Whilst Twilight couldn't see anything, apparently the Fusiliers could. "Sir," one shouted back to Nicholas, "you should come and see this."

Nicholas stepped forwards, quickly all but vanishing from sight save for the thin glow of his three, cyan eyes. Twilight heard a huff, before something cold and metallic grabbed her arm. She tried to jump back and yelped in fright, but was halted and silenced when Nicholas spoke, "it is me," he said, "follow."

He led Twilight through the darkness. Whilst usually she would have simply lighted her horn and continued moving, strangely, her horn made no effect. Nicholas eventually stopped, before guiding her hoof towards a point. What she touched felt like a piece of cold glass, which quickly lit up bright blue. The console, as it was revealed, was mostly a white alloy material, with a thin stem linking it to the ground. The blue screen was covered in various white runes, unlike those that Nicholas had already shown her. She could, however, make out one word, 'Exultation'.

Suddenly, the room lit up. The floor was the same white alloy as the console's rim and stem, as were the walls, the roof was of similar material, but was silvery and lined with blue dots that Twilight assumed were the lights. Ahead of the console was a large screen, looking like translucent black glass. Three thin golden trails led off deeper into the facility, likely guide-lines for walking around.

The screen flared to life, glowing a bright red. “Welcome," a deep, masculine, robotic voice spoke from the screen, "I am Exultation-001, custodian of 268-SHIELD. You do not appear to be Assembly constructs. Please hold still for scanning. Detecting species, Vortexian, Valkyr, Herian and Xayanthan. Scans indicate at least a Basileus-Class construct present. I am detecting sub-spatial anomalies. Subspace ruptures detected. Initiating diagnostic scan. Scans indicate I was placed into extended hibernation for a period of 4.6 billion years. Curious, I am detecting no Assembly signals in the entire galaxy."

Nicholas spoke up, "the Assembly has been gone for a long time."

"Reports indicate Chronove was accessed as of approximately 16,000 years ago. Residue indicative of Chronomatrix displacement detected around Basileus-Class construct. You are of the Assembly, yet you say it is gone? Explain."

"The Assembly fell," Nicholas said, simply, "destroyed itself."

The AI was silent for a moment, before continuing, "scans indicate combat within 268-SHIELD, detecting sub-spatial anomalies. Shield World defences offline. It appears I am separated from most of the facility. Basileus-Class, I advise you to reconnect me to the rest of the facility, co-ordinates to the main core system are in the cartographer. Be advised, I am detecting multiple sub-spatial anomalies below, I shall provide what WarSynths I can to guide you."

From previously invisible panels on the walls emerged a dozen identical white robots, about the height of each of the tallest Fusilier. They had spindly limbs, with an upturned triangular torso with a glowing blue panel on the abdomen, their heads bore a large, angular fan, with a singular blue eye slit in the centre. Each one carried a long rifle: two long, silver spindles with a red field connecting them. They advanced with near silence, forming a neat six by two block and marched down the corridor.

The now lit facility was nowhere near as derelict as its age would suggest, in fact, it looked practically brand new. The WarSynths, as Nicholas and Exultation-001 had identified, looked similar. Twilight had been awestruck that the facility was so old, with Nicholas' conservative estimate being over the age of Equestria's star. She had also been confused by the species' names given by the AI, with Nicholas explaining as they walked. Nicholas himself was originally a Vortexian, though exposure to something he called The Great Experiment had turned him into what he was currently. Why he had been called a Basileus-Class construct, he was unsure, but he had told her he would ask the AI when they were finished.

They emerged from the corridor into a much larger chamber, with a reinforced glass cylinder in the centre with a pair of consoles in front and behind it. The room was swarming with creatures, who all turned to the entering droids and soldiers and screeched, knocking Twilight down with the noise. The walls began to part, revealing invisible chambers like those in the main entrance, revealing even more WarSynths, twenty in all. With uncharacteristic thumps, their rifles opened fire, long bolts of red energy tearing through multiple of the creatures at a time. The WarSynths communicated with each other in bursts of static, coordinating their attacks perfectly so that none of the creatures could get within 5 metres. Nicholas carefully lifted up Twilight, with the Fusiliers with them just looking on in surprise.

"Twilight," Nicholas said over the din of combat, "once the WarSynths have cleared the room, head to the first console, place your hoof on the rune on the right, I will do the same on the other side. That should reconnect Exultation to the Cartographer, then he can give us the map."

The room was cleared with incredible speed; barely a minute after their arrival everything within was either allied or dead. Not even the golden goo that had characterised the deaths of the other creatures was present, just a faint scattering of white dust where the majority had been concentrated. The Imperials advanced inside, the Fusiliers covering all of the doors whilst Twilight and Nicholas worked the consoles. Twilight pressed her hoof onto the right hand side's rune, a massive circle with a pair of dots in its centre. The rune lit up, followed by its fellow on the left lighting as well. The reinforced glass cylinder flared blue, which gradually faded to purple and finally red.

"Excellent," Exultation-001's voice boomed over hidden speakers, "initiating diagnostic scan. Cartographer online. You have now been granted access to the map room."

At the far end of the room, a door slid open, revealing another dozen WarSynths. The robots parted, showing the path to what the Imperials assumed was the map room. The room was, in stark contrast to the other rooms so far, pitch dark in its colouring, with no light save the large projector in the centre of the floor, which flared to life to show the image of the entire planet. The core gradually zoomed in, revealing the Imperial Battlecluster and the troops landing on the platforms.

One of the vessels, a Truth class cruiser, was listing, trailing plasma from its far left engine; another sported a large gash on its left bow. Only one of the platforms appeared to have been fully secured, having been covered in artillery cannons and rocket launchers. The larger platforms were swarming with creatures, fighting the Imperials in close quarters. Both Luna and Kyhron were clearly visible, the former coordinating attacks from just behind the line on the second largest platform, with the latter wading through the swarming creatures on the largest.

Nicholas reached out with his power, contacting Kyhron. The enormous knight stopped moving, the creatures at his feet flailing in vain to bring him down. Whatever message Nicholas had sent, it had a clear effect. Kyhron turned, casting off a few hundred of the creatures without even noticing, he swung his sword upwards, cutting a swathe through his living surroundings. With a gesture forwards, something tore through the ground, swarms of opposing creatures tearing at each other. Others, appearing almost as smaller versions of Kyhron, appeared through portals, cutting their way forwards towards him as the Prince of Darkness advanced towards the main building.

Meanwhile, in the map room, a pair of portals, black wreathed in dark, swirling green, opened. From each stepped a figure, at least four metres tall, grey chitinous skin covered almost entirely by black bone armour. In their hands they hefted heavy swords, of similar class to Oathbreaker though far smaller. Like Nicholas, they had three eyes, though theirs were fiery orange, with their mouths small and filled with jagged, rust coloured teeth. They both bowed before Nicholas, strangely remaining in total silence.

"Karavon," Nicholas said, looking to the left hand figure, then to the right "Azin. Where are your brothers?"

Both looked up, with Azin speaking, his voice deep and gravelly, "Qirin is with Lady Luna."

"And Tyak?"

"Dead, for a thousand years. The Light ended him during Lady Luna's attempt in Equestria.”

Nicholas seemed to breathe out, "very well. Rally every warrior you can and prepare to enter the portals once they are activated. Ensure that the Light cannot send any more troops through the filaments, ensure this Shield World is totally defensible. Karavon, contact Chronove and bring me whatever soldiers are available, I want at least a Crusade sized force in orbit by the end of the week."

The two nodded their affirmatives, before their portals opened again and they vanished. Looking back to the map, Kyhron and those with him were at the entrance to the main building, the swarming Light creatures being held back by a combination of larger and smaller Imperial creatures. The larger, near identical to Azin and Karavon, held the rear of the line, with smaller creatures with spindly arms and thin, husk-like bodies at the front.

"Kyhron shouldn't take too long," Nicholas said to Twilight, who nodded without quite knowing what he was doing. "Exultation," he shouted out, "do you have WarSynths near the Core? My forces will require whatever assistance you can give."

The AI was silent for a moment, contemplating. "I am activating the facility's defences now," he said, "what WarSynths I have are moving now. Can your forces reactivate the Core?"

"They are working on it," Nicholas turned back to the map to see the tell tale signs of WarSynths, emerging from both within and without the facility. Where they emerged, a long corridor of death followed in their wake, their weapons invariably superior to those of their enemies. "Is there any other support you can give them?"

The AI contemplated again, "I am activating a Strategos-Class Construct. Stand by."

Luna and Rarity were, fortunately for Rarity, behind the protective wall of Imperial soldiers. Whilst the odd stray shot passed nearby to them, none came close enough to prompt genuine worry. Rarity was, however, still on edge. When a sound not entirely dissimilar to a very high pitched explosion was followed by a flash of light from behind, she ducked into Luna's wing, who turned to view the source of the noise.

"Qirin?"

Rarity moved out from the wing cover to view Qirin. He stood at around four metres tall, with grey chitinous skin, night black bone armour covering most of him and three burning orange and yellow eyes. He held a sword in his right hand, similar in overall appearance to Oathbreaker, and a large, black bone shield in his right.

"Lady Luna," he bowed, dropping to one knee and placing his sword tip down into the dirt, "word from the Emperor, Kyhron is activating the Shield World's AI. He has ordered me to assist you in taking the facility on this platform."

Luna walked up to Qirin, who she still dwarfed despite his enormous size. She looked him in the eyes, silently ordering him to rise from his kneel. When he stood tall, she pulled him into an embrace, which he seemed almost confused by.

"It has been so long," she whispered, pulling back, "Rarity, this is Qirin, a very old friend of mine."

Qirin bowed his head to her, before marching forwards, wading through the lines to slice a path through the creatures. The Fusiliers parted, giving Qirin a straight shot forward to the entrance of the facility.

"Who is he?" Rarity asked, trying her best to make the question 'what is he' sound polite.

"A Tomb Guard," Luna said, "it is an old story, I will tell you when we are back on the ship."

Rarity nodded, turning back to survey the battlefield. She was no strategist, granted, but she knew when a battle was going well. The Fusiliers had advanced far since their landing, shown in the sea of death goo and bodies in their wake. Behind, the crumpled body of a Walker lay smouldering, its forest camo hull covered in burn marks and holes, its legs and arms were half buried, with its face totally submerged in the dirt. Its pilots, a pair of Fusiliers with cyan armour, had limped off into the thin woods that skirted the edge of the platform.

A horn blared out from beneath the surface and the ground began to shake. Luna instinctively lifted Rarity onto her back with a wing and began to hover, as a straight crack opened behind them. A fifty metre circle began to open, revealing a deep hole in the platform, lined with smooth white alloy and pock-marked with tiny blue lights. From the hole rose a platform, carrying a giant, floating robot, with one blazing red eye atop its upper segment. It looked similar to a centipede, though far wider, shorter and airbourne. Its individual segments were of a grey alloy, connected by cylindrical tethers of blue light. Small, metal tentacles lined the edges of each segment, with the top segment having a pair of massive cannons on its edges.

It seemed to speak in a burst of low pitched static, before its cannons opened fire. Two bolts of red fire launched out, impacting the creatures around the facility with rough bursts. The construct floated forwards, silently ignoring the guarded Luna, until it arrived over the Imperial lines. The Fusiliers kept their heads low as it fired again, floating forwards and using its tentacles to blast individuals with zaps of lightning. The fighters flying above had to increase their altitudes to avoid impacting the crown-like alloy crescent atop its head, which peaked its height at about eighty feet.

"What in the," Rarity breathed.

"I don't know," Luna replied, "but I think it's on our side."

Where the Fusiliers had taken a couple of hours to advance to their position, the construct pushed them to the entrance within minutes. The low, rhythmic rumbling of its cannons and the cracks of its lightning shattered the enemy lines with ease, and the construct's shields made it nigh impervious to damage. When they reached the entrance, what creatures had retreated inside came rushing out, harried by WarSynths from within, where they were quickly cut down by both the construct and the Fusiliers. Qirin made his way inside, followed by a platoon of Fusiliers, informing Luna he would reconnect the Shield World's AI to this particular facility.

An Imperial Army, with nearly three hundred thousand fully ready troops spread out across the expansive platform, quickly found itself without a job to do. The Fusiliers quickly began to rest, gather up the dead, tend to their wounded or observe the other battlefields.

"Night Truth," a Leftenant, with a heavy white pack attached to the back of his armour, aerial extended and a blue pad on his left wrist spoke, "objective secure, portal controls on our side are online. Any update on the other side?"

He listened to the answer, before speaking again, "copy that." He jogged to Luna, who was overlooking one of the closest platforms, where the Fusiliers had nearly completed their objective. "Ma'am, the Night Truth is going to come around to bring us aboard soon. They estimate twenty minutes before they're in position."

"Thank you, Leftenant," Luna replied, not turning to regard the Fusilier, "you are dismissed." The Leftenant saluted then jogged back to his platoon, leaving Luna and Rarity to continue observing.

Whilst Luna was making tactical assessments, seeing if she was needed or if she could invent a better strategy, Rarity was taking in the unconventional beauty of the scene. Against the background of a star wreathed in blue shimmering shields, dozens of biomes, suspended by nothing, hovered, flashes of light gave each of them the appearance of galaxies, whilst enormous vessels hovered between them. She thought about making a dress of it, maybe even a series, then recognised that her old boutique had been destroyed days earlier.
"Luna?"

"Yes, Rarity?"

"My boutique was destroyed with Equestria..."

"I shall get you another," Luna interrupted, "whatever materials you need I can get you, as well as a space. The Empire has a wealth of territory and with it an abundance of material for you to work with, from fabrics to the finest gemstones."

"Thank you, Princess."

"Excellent," Exultation-001 said, "connection to Core established, I am activating planetary defences."

“We have a pony down,” one Fusilier had shouted to another, “the yellow one.”

“How the hell? She was assigned to medical.”

“Stray shot caught her in the throat as she tried to help one of our guys, dead in minutes.”

“Emperor’s name,” they swore. “He is going to be furious.”

VIII. Exultation

“Of the Tomb Guard, it was said that none could match them in battle. The Black Guard were fanatic, the Spire Guard cunning, and the Shade Guard wise. But, the Tomb Guard bear the power of our Emperor and the blood of his children - that is what separates them from all others.”

- Let them fear Us by Phanes, Keeper of the Liturgy and Blood of the Emperor -

Queen Luna, Lady of Darkness, lorded over the darkened city of Canterlot from the balcony of the Royal Palace. High above, the moon, far larger than it would usually be, shone the barest of light over the land. What few ponies were visible, buzzing about the Palace like bees, were batponies, clad in the navy blue armour of Luna's army. Those ponies who had supported Celestia, whose numbers had been small but substantial enough to near empty Canterlot, had fled somewhere to the north, near the Crystal Mountains. Luna had not deigned to follow, at least not yet, especially since she was only certain of the absolute loyalty of her personal elite guard, who made up only a small portion of her army.

Azin, the Dreaded, stood in the shadows behind her, flanked by a pair of her Elite Guard. They waited in silence for her to turn, which she eventually did, gesturing for the guards to leave with just a nod. "Azin," she said, as the Tomb Guard stepped forwards from the darkness, "thou bringeth news?"

"Yes," he said, stepping up to the balcony's edge, "our enemy is retreated to the mountains, where they hide amongst the snow. Tyak is hunting them as best he can, though we have not the numbers to find them all."

Luna contemplated sending more soldiers, before shaking her head and replying, "I cannot spare any more. Half of these soldiers I do not trust, the rest are needed in case of rebellion. Tyak will have to make do with what he has."

Azin nodded. "The wizard has fled, I cannot sense his magic within the mountains, it is likely he is either hidden somewhere within the country, or he has fled over the sea."

"Could the Griffons be hiding him?"

Azin seemed to growl, "potentially. I could lead a punitive expedition?"

"No.” Luna cut his idea off quickly. "We haven't the ponypower to spare. I would rather not risk disaster over a hunch."

Azin growled again, but nodded regardless. “The Emperor has found your contribution most worthy, there is a crystal waiting for you in the Cryptum."

Luna was silent, nodding and quickly retreating from the balcony. She very nearly galloped towards the spiral stairs that led down into the depths of the mountain. The Cryptum, as it had become known, was initially created by Luna's order to - as she informed her sister, anyway - store her experiments. Since then, it had become a complex where she had stored weapons, soldiers, plans and, above all, her connection to Emperor Nicholas. She passed various members of her Elite Guard, gathering weapons, drawing up plans, training in the specialised yards or working to construct materials. The door to the communion room, constructed of obsidian, forged by Nicholas himself, was flanked by a pair of Elite Guards, faces covered by stylised helmets of a Tomb Guard, they pushed the door aside as Luna was walking, slamming it closed the moment she entered.

Luna was met with a pitch dark cavern, lit only by a large, dark green crystal that was at least twice her height and hovering above a crevice she swore was bottomless. She stood before it in silence, feeling the presence of the Emperor in the air.

"Luna," an ethereal voice spoke from all around her, the crystal pulsing as it did, "you have done well. Azin has told me that the Light has been banished from much of your land, this is good. Though, I know that Azin and Tyak cannot enforce your will, or my own, alone. I have seen it fit to grant you another two Tomb Guard. They have been spawned specially. They are of your blood as well as mine, I have named them Qirin and Karavon, they will fight well."

Two portals, black, wreathed in dark green writhing energy, opened with ethereal screams. From them emerged two Tomb Guard, both identical. Their helmets, three flat pointed crowns, partly glowed with the runes inscribed into them - the residual energy of their teleportation burning off. The rest of their armour, vaguely pyramidal shaped, with large horizontal shoulder pads and an expansive pad for the torso, looked almost polished, like jet stone. They stood before Luna, on the very edge of the bottomless crevice, and kneeled, bowing their heads.

"Their will," the voice said, "is your own. Use them well."

The voice was silent and the crystal darkened. The presence of Nicholas seemed to leave the room, likely off to perform another operation. Luna looked to the two Tomb Guard, who had risen and prepared to follow. "Come," she said, "I will inform you of your duties."

The Core of the Shield World was surrounded by entire Fleets of warships. Above the portal controls, which formed the new Imperial headquarters, hung a dozen cruisers, utterly dwarfed by the pair of Supercarriers that were above them. The platform was utterly filled with tanks, walkers and soldiers, going about whatever business they had been assigned to. Within the structure were more soldiers, of various calibres, from regular Fusiliers and elite guards, along with a host of new arrivals. Chief amongst them were a company of soldiers from what Emperor Nicholas called Project PHALANX. He had introduced them to Twilight and her friends after a squad of them had marched by.

"Hey.” Twilight tapped Nicholas' left, pointing to the eight soldiers in suits of dark grey power armour. “Who are they?"

"They are called PHALANXs," he replied, "bio-engineered supersoldiers. You won't need to worry about them."

Another squad came from the same corridor, their armour a dark red, with their helmets' large visors silvery. A pair marched up close to Nicholas, both saluting. "Sir," one said, voice processed but still properly distinguishable, "WarFleet Tempestuous Shadows has arrived."

The other spoke, voice clearly different, but barely, "PHALANX Omega, Alpha, Delta and Mu Companies are here, Gamma, Beta and Lambda are inbound."

Nicholas nodded, the PHALANXs dismissing themselves after a few seconds. He turned back to Twilight, who was looking the departing soldiers over. "No," he said, "you do not."

Twilight, having just had the thought of wondering how they were 'bio-engineered', nodded gravely. One day, she was sure, she'd find out. It was likely just a matter of getting a stronger stomach.

"Twilight," he said, "we should go to the portal controls, I have a job you may enjoy."

The portal controls were a massive room of consoles and screens. At the far end was a window leading to what Twilight assumed was the portals themselves, or at least a few of their frames. There were two dozen WarSynths scattered about in defensive positions, ignoring Nicholas and Twilight. The two came upon the largest console, a large, blue screened semicircle, creating a berth for an operator. The screen was covered in various runes, some were somewhat familiar to her, others entirely unknown.

"The portals can only be activated from these consoles," Nicholas said, gesturing to the room, "this one containing the main activation switch. However, there are no translations from the old language of the Assembly, and our own translators cannot be trusted to come up with a working translation within an appropriate time frame. You, however, have a certain gift for working on these things, so I'm granting you whatever resources you need to get these portals online."

Twilight nodded, excited by the prospect of working on an alien language. "But," she said, a wave of confusion coming over her, "surely you could do it? You seem to already know the language, or at least most of it."

Nicholas looked at her, "and how do you know that?"

"When we activated the AI, you seemed to know what the console said."

Nicholas chuckled, shaking his head. "Twilight." He kneeled to get closer to her. "Total guesswork." He patted her back carefully, before turning to leave. "If you need anything," he said, voice echoing as he went, "contact me."

Twilight turned back to the console, inspecting it all over. It was made of thin, white alloy, very smooth to the touch, supported by two legs of similar alloy on either end. It curved in a near full semicircle, the screen covering the whole of the top of the shape. Various small runes flashed on either side, with one large rune flashing in the middle. It was a simple full circle with a vertical line in its centre. Twilight tentatively tapped it, which caused every screen in the room to flare to life, and for the window to be suddenly filled with various runes and graphs. Her own console had shifted, a pair of large runes making up the centre with numerous small sliders and paragraphs of runes scattered about.

She pressed the large rune on the left, which caused the centre two runes to be replaced by a black rectangle, with a thin red line going across it. "Welcome," the voice of Exultation-001 came from hidden speakers, apparently just below the console by the sound, the thin line moved whenever it spoke. "You are trying to activate the portal controls, correct?"

Twilight hesitated before answering, "er, yes?"

"Affirmative. Please state your authorisation."

Twilight thought. A password system, from what she could gather, was what stood between her and the activation. Despite the simple nature of a password system, it was still a matter of sifting through potentially quadrillions of possible assemblages of alien letters. Hoping she wouldn't be locked out, or worse, she spoke, "Twilight Sparkle."

Exultation-001 was silent for a moment. "Authorisation attempt failed. Please state your authorisation."

She thought again, it probably wanted someone authoritative, like Nicholas.

"Nicholas."

"Authorisation attempt failed. Please state your authorisation."

Twilight sighed, it was clear this would take a very long time.

Far beyond the Shield World's surface, something was cresting the surface of the star. It looked like a creature, though how it had grown to such a size was unknown. Tentacles of white flesh slowly wrapped around the star, clearly and slowly bleeding it of mass. The rest of the creature's body gradually brought itself into view, a massive, worm-like creature with writhing, tumourous growths the size of planets covering its form. What constituted as its face were three triangular extrusions, which could open to reveal its cavernous mouth. The tentacles which pulled it along were at least dozens of kilometres wide, and thousands long, though appeared almost minute next to its full size.

Rising from Cradle's interior were hundreds of starships, ready to meet the creature. At the armada's head was the Crown of Ash, with a pair of supercarriers on either side of it. Scattered amongst the rest of the fleet were carriers, dreadnoughts and battleships of all kinds, with cruisers leading squadrons of thin, tapered hull destroyers and corvettes whilst box-like frigates weaved between them like enormous flies. The Crown of Ash opened fire first, sending two blue streaks flying into the worm creature's flesh. The same bolts of light that had killed Equestria impacted the creature, creating explosions larger than worlds but did no visible damage aside from a pair of burn marks. The force became a symphony of weaponry, every weapon fired in perfect tandem with the others, intent on causing maximum potential damage to the creature; impact after impact rocked it, yet it still moved and showed no sign of letting up. On the bridge of the Crown of Ash stood Kyhron, awaiting his father's next commands from the surface.

"Kyhron," the deep, dreadful and menacing voice of Nicholas' true form rose from within his mind, "pull back, inside the crust. I shall deal with this creature myself."

The PHALANXs had proven themselves to be efficient, Nicholas was happy to give them that; they had cleared the surface within half an hour of his notice, he having left the Core to find the crust devoid of any soldiers, as though they were never there. The yellow star was mostly covered, like an eclipse, Nicholas standing in between the shadow of artificial night and day. Above, fast approaching, was the creature, which he had some difficulty with convincing Exultation-001 not to shoot. The closer it got, the brighter the various runes on Nicholas' sword glowed. As the first of the creature’s tendrils entered the atmosphere, the runes became brighter than the star itself, burning the scant vegetation around them.

"Maw of Hell?" Nicholas said, the creature seeming to hear him, "you are nothing."

He lifted his sword to a guard, spread his wings, and leapt upwards.

"Hmm," Twilight said aloud, she had been reading a book she had found in a draw beneath one of the consoles in the room, it had included a number of what she assumed were names, "orinth."

Exultation seemed to chuckle. "That is a greeting, please state your authorisation."

"Ugh." Twilight put her head in her hooves, trying to think of something that would work. "Authorisation," she said, having all but given up.

"Affirmative, authorisation request granted. Please present your credentials."

Twilight looked up at the console in silence, before slamming the floor with her hooves, "unbe-bucking-lievable!"

Nicholas' sword sliced cleanly through the next tentacle. Whilst the stormcannons of the warships had only scorched it, the immense power of his relatively simple sword quite simply deleted what it came into contact with. The creature was, despite being in orbit, not moving its titanic body any further. Its dismembered tentacle thrashed as it bled below, with the half that was still attached flailing to catch the rapidly ascending Nicholas.

His wings, impenetrable as they were, threw him skywards, the creature next to helpless against what, to it, was a tiny target. He had run the simulations of this battle a million times over, every attack pattern, every guard, every reaction of the creature accounted for; he was acting on muscle memory. As a swarm of tentacles sped towards him, he angled his wings into a spin, pirouetting past the swarm as the wickedly sharp tips of his wings sliced through flesh. In a sudden spurt of blood, the tentacles shattered and fell.

Nicholas spread his wings again, bringing his assent to a halt and angling him towards the creature's maw. With his free hand, he conjured a ball of writhing shadows. Bringing his arm back, he recalled the exact angle and force needed to propel it into the creature's heart. After no less than a second, he pushed it forwards, before letting himself be taken by gravity.

The shadow mass travelled up in silence, the creature apparently not having noticed it. As another swarm of tentacles moved on Nicholas, a faint breeze heralded a sudden shockwave from above. The creature, noticeably smaller, fell from orbit, its corrupted flesh keeping it from simply melting as it entered the atmosphere. It impacted the ground with a tremendous quake, cracking the mud and stone beneath it. As a cloud of dust swept over him, Nicholas landed too, silently, without any such reaction from the earth.

As the dust settled, he beheld the monster, slithering about its new surroundings confusedly. Suddenly, it stopped, bringing a tentacle up close to its mouth. Nicholas looked closely, seeing what normal eyes would not: a speck of cyan, encased in the white and gold tumourous flesh of the creature. He launched himself forwards at lightning speed, the land behind him cracking for miles when he did.

He struck the creature with a glancing blow along its top, just beyond its mouth, causing the creature to reel and roar out. With a second strike on its upper jaw flap, the tentacle released the stricken pegasus, who fell, unable to use her wings. Nicholas swung around, striking the creature again as he caught Rainbow in one claw. With a single beat of his mighty wings, he was away, searching for a safe location to deposit the pegasus whilst he fought the creature. He soon found it, in the form of a maintenance bunker, connected to a platform below the surface.

He lay her in the doorway, banging on it twice. "Come up," he yelled, certain whoever was within could hear him, "tend to this injured one."

He brought his sword in front of him in a guard. "Monster," he challenged the creature, who seemed eager to accept, "no more games, now you die."

"But," Twilight yelled, banging the console with her hooves, "that is my identity! I am Twilight Sparkle!"

"Negative," Exultation-001 said, whose only form appeared to be a red line, "databases indicate you are not 'Twilight Sparkle'."

"Well," Twilight's tone shifted from rage to sarcastic, "I've only just found out you exist, so maybe your databases don't know me."

Exultation-001 was silent for a moment. "Negative. Precursor identified, database entries located physically on SHIELD-001, local databases keep a digital copy."

Twilight yelled at the console, "what is a Precursor? Stop saying Precursor!"

"You are a Precursor, please identify."

Twilight groaned again, "come on," she pleaded, "just let me in. I'm Twilight Sparkle, that's who I am."

"Negative."

"Well then show me the records! You can't just claim I'm not me without proof!"

Exultation-001 hummed, "very well."

The console in front of Twilight flashed up with a file, two paragraphs of runes and glyphs encircling a stylised picture of her cutie mark. She groaned again, it would take her another age to translate all of the runes, even despite knowing half already. Content with work, but angry with the difficulty of it all, she got to reading.

The Maw of Hell, as Nicholas had identified it, was at death's door within minutes. Even as titanic as it was, the hundreds of deep, biting wounds from Oathbreaker had sapped its strength, so much so that it was little more than a slowly flailing mass of flesh, its jaw no longer strong enough to open and close fully. With the last reserves of its strength, it jolted forwards, catching Nicholas within its mouth. He descended through its damp, dark insides, slashing at whatever looked important. Soon, he found himself somewhere within what on a regular creature would be its chest cavity. The Maw had no lungs to speak of, nor many of the other organs that would be present in the majority of other life forms. It did, however, have a heart: the size of Nicholas' fist, grey and cancerous, almost entirely encased in a fat like substance.

He grasped it in a three clawed hand, the fat caving in slightly as the creature's body began to spasm and twitch violently, trying to dislodge him. The thin tendons that held it in place had little give, taking an effort to pull away. Each was like a rope of metal, snapping like a whip when broken, cutting through the creature's flesh. Eventually, the heart gave way entirely, what little pinkish colour it had quickly fading, the creature thrashing one final time before becoming still. Nicholas beheld the heart for a moment, observing something hidden to the normal eye, before crushing it and casting its remains aside. In what little space he had, he turned to the creature's wall of skin, which shattered like glass as he walked through it, the star above burning away the rapidly decaying flesh.

He spread his wings and took flight towards the maintenance bunker where he had left the injured Rainbow Dash. He found her behind four PHALANXs, with a further two tending to her, the other two of the squad were likely further within, or somewhere around. The pegasus was groggy, as if just awoken from sleep, but seemed strong enough to respond to the PHALANXs’ attentions.

"What does that thing do?" She asked, speech slurred slightly, pointing to an instrument in one of her medic's hands.

"It's a stimulant injector," she said, placing it onto Rainbow's neck, "hold still." She depressed a button, the instrument making a click and causing Rainbow to wince slightly. "Should keep you awake and moving whilst we get you sorted.” She turned to her colleague. "Pass the scanner."

One of the PHALANXs not tending to Rainbow looked up at Nicholas, whose glittery look from the Maw of Hell's flesh was slowly starting to recede. "Damn good job, sir. Thought we were in trouble with that thing."

"Thank you." Emperor Nicholas nodded to the PHALANX, who stepped aside to allow him better access to Rainbow. "What is her condition?"

The male PHALANX rose, stepping out of Rainbow's earshot. "Both her wings are done for, nothing much we can do there; she's got a punctured lung, on the left side, we can fix that in the medical bay easy enough; most of the bones in her left front and two back legs are broken, fixable but still pretty painful; and she has mild internal haemorrhaging that we've cleaned up. If she survives, which she probably will, she won't fly again without assistance."

Nicholas nodded gravely. "Radio for medical extraction, get her fit and working as quickly as possible."

"Already done sir, they're on their way."

Nicholas kneeled to get closer to Rainbow. "We are going to move you," he said, "once the medics arrive. Until then, sit tight with this team. I need to check on Twilight."

His body collapsed in on itself, teleporting him to the other side of Cradle. Rainbow almost seemed not to notice, but had nodded her affirmative when Nicholas had told her the plan.

"Hey," she said, drawing the attention of one of the PHALANXs, "who are you guys?"

"Red Team," he said, pointing to their scarlet coloured armour, "I'm Sam, these are Douglas, Hayden, Ellie, Aimee and Em."

Ellie gave a wave, Em nodded, Hayden gave a thumbs up and Douglas a salute with two fingers. Aimee continued attending her, silently rebuffing any attempt at conversation. Rainbow returned each with courtesy of a hoof wave, which Aimee immediately manoeuvred down to avoid further breakages.

"Would consider her for PHALANX," Em mused to Ellie, who gave them a dig in the shoulder to imply the negative, "she's tough, besides, she'll probably need it."

Their heavily accented expression drew Rainbow's attention. "What do you mean?" She asked, looking over her right shoulder to the PHALANX, whose visor bore a rather crude image of a skull.

"Nothing," Ellie said, "they mean nothing." She shot a glance at the PHALANX, who just chuckled and shook their head.

Em leaned in close, making sure Ellie was out of ear shot. "When you're up and walking again, ask for High Admiral Sol, trust me."

On cue, two medics, identified by the red runes on their left shoulder plates, emerged from the bunker, the remaining pair of Red Team's members following behind. One of the medics set up their stretcher, a collapsible device that fit on their back, and loaded Rainbow onto it whilst their comrade ran scans.

"I've already checked her," Aimee said, in her no-nonsense tone, "she's stable but I can't do any more."

"Yes sir." One of the medics nodded, before lifting the stretcher and taking her down into the bunker.

Douglas walked up to Sam, "you think she'll be okay?" There wasn't much concern in his voice, if there was then he was good at hiding it.

"Yeah," Sam replied immediately, "definitely. Just depends what she does afterwards."

Twilight rubbed her temples. "Okay," she said, keeping her breathing solid and steady, "okay, I did it." She looked over the newly sorted text one more time, before beginning to read:

Abide by
Report: PRECURSORS
From the Records of KINDLE

Eminence,

My studies into those the Assembly considers Precursors have yielded great fruit. One specific species has caught my eyes, from the planet we call Xayanth. Their abilities are perhaps in excess of even the Emperor themself, especially combined. I spoke to many of their number, though one stood out in particular. She called herself Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra, she was a scholar of her species, both their history and their current form. She revealed to me they did not create our species, nor any of the worlds in our galaxy, but that they simply traversed the stars before us. She has spoken of an interest to meet with you, and the Emperor themself, perhaps this may be possible in the near future?

I await your reply,
Radiant-Dawn-of-Remembrance

Abide by
Report: PRECURSORS
From the Records of KINDLE

Majesty,

I have by my side, as I type, Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra, the Precursor Magistros Wing-of-Iron-Will will have told you about. She has expressed a wish to meet with you, if Your Majesty allows it. So far, she has shown me incredible feats that members of her kind are capable of, which I have no doubt that Your Majesty would be interested in. I can, if Your Majesty wishes it, have her transferred with me to Sanctum, which is located only a few light years from Xayanth.

Your eternal servant,
Radiant-Dawn-of-Remembrance

Twilight hoped to every god she could find that her translation was correct. If it was not, she would probably just give up, the weight of the task having definitely put her off translating again for the next few years. She studied the two logs again, searching for what she assumed were names, names that could be related in any way to her. She eventually decided on two such names. "Radiant-Dawn-of-Remembrance," she said, awaiting Exultation-001's reply.

"Negative," it said, "please identify."

Her heart sank slightly, "Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra," she said, praying internally it would at least bear some fruit.

"Affirmative," Exultation-001 replied, "biometrics confirmed. Welcome back, Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra."

The room seemed to open up, lights she had not known of previously activated, the screens leading to the portals fell away, replaced by almost entirely transparent shields, the consoles flickered to life and filled themselves with instructions and buttons and graphs. The command terminal, now covered in various buttons she could identify as controls, embraced her warmly. She breathed a sigh of intense relief, sitting back on her haunches and basking in the satisfaction of a job well done.

"Twilight." Nicholas' voice echoed behind through the door behind her. "I need you to unlock the door."

"Nicholas," she shouted back, hoping he could hear her, "why is this machine calling me something else?"

It took a moment for her speech to register, "what has it said?"

"It called me Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra," she shouted, mind flooding with thoughts of what it could mean, "who is that?"

Again, a pause, "unlock the door."

"Nicholas..."

"Unlock the door."

She swung a hoof up and onto a button, which prompted the door to click and slowly slide open; Twilight marvelled for a moment how she had known that was the right button, before rising to meet Nicholas, who was rapidly advancing.

In only a few thunderous steps, he was upon the console, attempting to communicate with Exultation-001. "Do'she tuve gar'ya unzh'e. Korva was'ra un'tre." It was clear from his tone he did not know that Twilight could understand him.

"What plan?" She asked, drawing his eye, "and I thought you said you couldn't understand them."

"I did," he replied, almost guiltily, "and I lied. For a purpose. For a purpose, which this AI has unknowingly accelerated."

Exultation-001 hummed, "Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra was the last living creature to access my network before I was deactivated. From my assessments, it was she who deactivated the portals to stop the Catastrophe from spreading this far. This installation owes its existence to her. I thought it wise to inform her of who she..."

Nicholas held a ball of shadow in a clenched fist, silencing Exultation-001 instantly. "No more," he commanded, "the plan will not be endangered."

He turned to Twilight. "Come," he said, gesturing to the open door, "let us walk, we have much to discuss."

Twilight followed, thoughts of both confusion and a hint of worry flooded her mind, "Nicholas," she said, following close to the titan, who was walking especially slowly for her, "what's going on?"

Once out of the control room, the door closed and Nicholas began to speak, "thousands of years ago, I entered the Great Experiment, at the centre of the planet Chronove. This was to be the Dauxite Assembly's greatest achievement: they had built time machines before, conquered the galaxy and had the technology to build even stars, but this was the absolute pinnacle of their science. It was designed to make a living creature, a biological lifeform, into a time machine in and of themself. This creature, in whatever form it took, would be woven into the very fabric of time, able to alter it at will.”

“The experiment was, however, unfinished, and so I was trapped for a very long time in a cycle of torment." Nicholas seemed to choke.

"But, I found a great many things. I learned of the War in Heaven, in which we now fight, of the eternal rivalry between Light and Dark, of the incredible power of both, and of the Dauxite Assembly. But, above all, I learned of your species. The Assembly called you, and those like you, Precursors, because you predated even their ancient power. Of these ancient Precursors, only your species survived, and even then differently. Luna now is a much more accurate depiction of your species, such is the extent of the mutations you have undergone. The oldest of your species, even amongst those who still survives, are a few millennia old, at most. Yet, you are far, far older. Such was your ancient power, and wisdom, that you placed your very spirit into hibernation, whilst reseeding your species in its new form onto the world you call Equestria, but which the Assembly would call Sanctum, a Shield World. Your spirit, eventually, released itself, subsuming - for want of a better term - the offspring of your 'mother' when it was incredibly early in development. It appears, however, that your memories remain locked away, perhaps never to be released, though your power is certainly coming through."

Twilight nodded glumly, some cynical part of her certain Nicholas was joking with her.

"No," he said, gravely, "I am not. Your magical talent is no accident, these 'spells' and abilities are ones you learned in ages past, unlocked as your soul matured and the memories were activated. I understand this is a lot to take in, and it wouldn't surprise or harm me if you did not believe me immediately. But, I shall have research materials delivered to you, and you are free to speak to me should you need to learn more. In the meantime, you should head up to the medical bay in this facility, Rainbow Dash is waiting for you."

Without a word more, he vanished, leaving Twilight in an unknown corridor, with the sounds of Fusiliers going about various business just beyond the door. She stood by for a minute or two, trying to possibly comprehend the pile of information that had been piled upon her. Eventually, she decided just to go to the medical bay, worried about why Rainbow Dash would be there.

"Hold up." A Fusilier stood in front of her as she tried to enter. "No entry for unauthorised personnel."

Twilight looked up at them. "Emperor Nicholas told me to come, I'm," she hesitated, trying to think of which name to use, "Twilight Sparkle."

The Fusilier pulled back. "Sorry, ma'am, head on through." Their comrade opened the door with a console, Twilight entering.

The medical bay was of decent size, four rooms in total, one forming a reception area. The walls were clearly heavily sterilised, shining white even compared to the corridors outside.

Twilight walked up to one of the grey uniformed soldiers manning the desks. "Excuse me," she said, "I'm here to see Rainbow Dash?"

The soldier nodded, tapping something out into the console in front of him, "to the left," he said, pointing to the doorway. It was automatic, swinging open, to Twilight's surprise - even after she thought she'd gotten used to them - leading her into an eight bed room. Only two of the beds were filled, one with a heavily bandaged Fusilier, sleeping lightly, and the other by a covered shape of a pony.

A pair of medics were by the pony's side, who was revealed as Rainbow Dash as Twilight approached. One of the medics left when they saw her, the other turned to speak to her, "she can talk, just don't tax her." They followed their comrade, leaving her and Rainbow alone.

"Twi." Rainbow's voice was notably quieter than usual. "Got into a bit of trouble, heh."

Twilight smiled, coming in close to her friend. "I can tell. It's not the first time."

Both laughed, "yeah," Rainbow sighed, "although, I think this time is worse than usual."

"What makes you say that?"

Rainbow's eyebrow lifted. "Seriously? Look at me, I'm like a mummy!"

Twilight gave her a look up and down, her wings, legs and lower back were entirely cocooned in bandages, with several blue points that vibrated at incredibly high frequencies, in order to better heal her injuries. "Yeah," she said, "I guess so."

“You best head off,” she whispered, “I’d rather you not see me like this.”

Much as Twilight wanted to say otherwise, she knew she would need to leave. Not only did she need more information on “Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra,” but she also would rather not see Rainbow Dash as injured as she was. She gave her best smile to Rainbow, before turning and heading out.

Rainbow Dash was left in silence for another few minutes. Until, through the bulkhead door, came eight crimson armoured PHALANXs, Rainbow immediately recognising them as Red Team. Ellie came up to her first, giving her a look over. "How you feeling?"

"Fine," Rainbow said, "tired, but fine."

Hayden came alongside Ellie. "Considering how you were, you're doing damn good."

Emperor Nicholas looked over the file pulled from the Assembly archives on the lower planet. It was, as far as he was aware, the only picture developed of the old Xayanthan species. It was definitely a pony, at least in the sense of basic shape. Their legs were long, built of solid muscle, terminating in feet with four claws, three forwards and one back. They stood about fourteen feet tall, with their thin, yet powerful smooth horn extending a further five from their head. The wings on their back were enormous, with a total wingspan of forty feet, the longest feathers no less than a metre and a half in length. Their sclera were black, with cyan-magenta irises, their teeth pearl white and jagged, like daggers perfectly fitted together. Their coat was a dark purple, their mane and tail indigo, with the corona of their horn shimmering royal purple. On their muscular flanks was an image, set into coat and flesh, five white, six pointed stars surrounding a larger copy in mulberry. He was rather impressed with his work on Luna, especially after viewing the source material, and even further impressed by the strength of the figure before him.

Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra, preserved in her original form in video, was, from the data that came with her, incredibly strong, both physically and magically. To replicate this form would take thought, Nicholas not willing to risk allowing mutation to run its course like he had with Luna. He studied it intently, ensuring every last detail was ingrained into his mind, before he would even consider constructing it.

"Hmm." Exultation-001 appeared behind him, bourne aloft by a small flying screen. "A Precursor," it said, "and here too. You wish to reverse the mutation, correct?"

"Yes," Nicholas replied, curtly.

"And not for the rest of the species? Only for this one?"

Nicholas grunted, "the rest will make their own fate, Penumbra and Luna are all I need."

Exultation-001 hummed again, "I see."

IX. Precursor

“His Imperial Majesty was clear in His orders: ‘It is by Our will that reality survives.’ There would be no threat to His Imperium, for to threaten His Imperium would be to threaten reality itself - for only by His good graces does reality not perish.”

- Orison of the Ninth Sphere, Fourteenth Second by First-Light-of-Broken-Sun -

The dark purple coat of Penumbra made her almost invisible in the failing light of the facility. Every so often, a distant explosion would rock her, with several smaller cracks of discharging weapons keeping her reminded of her surroundings. A pair of guards followed her, ceremonial silver armour far more primitive looking than it was. Around both of them, on a close inspection, could be seen a shimmering field of energy - their shields strong enough to stop all but the most powerful of blows. She was being led by a scribe, half her height, looking about skittishly, every noise making him jump back slightly.

Eventually, the group reached a large opening, empty aside from the bulkhead door at the other end. The bulkhead opened, metal screeching against metal, revealing another guard. He was missing half of his armour, as well as the entirety of one wing, with a hub of metal in its place instead.

"Ma'am." He bowed his head to Penumbra. "There's a storm incoming, biggest I've ever seen, we have to make this quick."

"We shall, Wanderings. How many are out there?"

Wanderings sighed, before chuckling. "I don't know, but it's a hell of a big number."

"Can we make it?"

Wanderings shrugged. "Yeah, sure."

Penumbra nodded, the scribe moving far behind her as they passed through the bulkhead doors. They closed behind them, forming an airlock, leading to the rumbling outside. As the second bulkhead opened, rays of orange light blinded them, before the door screeched to a halt, half open.

The two guards wrenched it open, grabbing it with their hooves. In doing so, they made themselves open to potential attackers outside. Sure enough, something roared and grabbed one of them, grasping and tearing at his armour. He cried out for his comrade, who lashed out with his magic, a yellowish aura grabbed a creature hidden by the flare of the star. Whatever it was roared again, before whimpering and falling silent. When the blindness finally subsided, they were met with the collapsed body of one of the Assembly's thralls, a Vortexian in species, its rudimentary armour cracked and shattered, with a glowing orange sword in its dead hand.

Barely an hour earlier, Penumbra had, whilst working with Radiant-Dawn-of-Remembrance, suddenly received an array of communiques. One was from her homeworld, calling for her to return immediately, another was from Chronove, informing all Assembly installations of a "Great Rebellion", with the final being from an unknown source, crying out for help. Within minutes, the entire planet was embroiled in rebellion, all of the Assembly's "thrall" species on the planet had risen up, armed and armoured themselves, and fought the Assembly's forces to a standstill, even managing to push them back in many areas. One minute she had been compiling data on her species' religious beliefs, the next she was advancing to the portal controls, intent on shutting them down.

Fortunately, the now dead thrall was the only one who seemed to be around. Wanderings levelled a long rifle, aiming specifically towards the battered and collapsed hull of a Stategos-Class construct. Scattered about the field were badly burned and smashed WarSynths, most were dead on the ground, but a few wandered aimlessly, headless, with one slowly burying itself into the ground by slowly turning on one leg, muttering something in binary static. High above, the sky was boiling, a storm from space, brought on by powers unknown, was slowly but steadily approaching the planet proper.

"Come," Penumbra said, "the elevator over there will take us down to the Core."

"Nicholas," Twilight said, "what was I?"

The titan looked away from the screen in front of him and towards the pony who had just entered the observation deck. He looked her up and down, before grunting to himself, "in what sense?" He asked as he rose, looking far different without his armour: emaciated, little more than pinkish-beige bone, with a number of almost hole like indentations on his otherwise marble smooth head.

"What did I look like, what was I like, I want to know everything."

Nicholas laughed hoarsely. "I do not know much," he said, "but what I do know would take a very long time. Perhaps it is best to show you." He turned back to his screen, opening up the file he had viewed previously. Twilight was met with the full holographic image of Penumbra, standing resplendent. She looked it over, taking in every detail she could.

"That was..."

"You," Nicholas said, "it still is, in a way."

Twilight held one of her forelegs up in front of her, comparing it to the taloned foot of Penumbra. The Precursor before her was clearly larger, stronger and more adapted to nearly every possible event. From the data that surrounded the picture, she was also an immense well of magic, far in excess of Celestia, Luna and herself combined.

Suddenly struck by thought, Twilight spoke, "what about Celestia?"

"What about her?"

"What would she think of this? Did she know? Where has she been?"

Had Twilight not known better, she would have sworn Nicholas gulped guiltily. He shook his head, before speaking, "she did not know, it was not something I would have told her. As for where she is, she is aboard the Sin of Damnation, she was not needed in the battle."

Twilight seemed to accept the answer. "So, why are you showing me this?"

Nicholas' demeanour changed, he chuckled and his mouth twisted into what could be constituted as a smile. "Because I have the power to make you this way once again. Though, of course, you will never be able to turn back."

Even at the thought of being entirely changed, something within her wanted to be the Precursor she had been presented with. She didn't know how her friends would react, but, ultimately, did it matter? The chance to be powerful and also be who she was meant to be was sorely tempting. Perhaps, given enough power, she could even rebuild Equestria? Or, better yet, simply create a brand new Equestria in her perfect image.

"How will you do this?"

Nicholas looked her up and down. "A spell, if you will. Difficult, but I am no stranger to difficulty."

She considered her options: on one hand, she would be immensely powerful, as well as who she had been before; however, she could not turn back, she couldn't be Twilight Sparkle again. If she went through with it, she would be Penumbra forever, whether she liked it or not. Then again, Twilight Sparkle was just a name, she'd still be herself within, but also herself without. After all, what was a little paint change?

"When can you do it?"

"Whenever you wish."

Twilight paused, dozens of thoughts fighting at once. Eventually, agreement won out, making the decision immediately before she changed her mind again. "Do it."

Nicholas nodded, his Obsidian Crown floating to his head. He raised both his open claws, tendrils of shadow channelling from his eyes to them, where they leapt towards Twilight. She flinched as she felt the impact, like ice cold water covering her, which quickly turned to boiling, with pins digging into her skin. Slowly, her vision began to darken, the shadows covering her entire body.

It was like she was submerged at the bottom of the ocean, pressure from the void around her threatened to crush her, her body froze and boiled at the same time and everything ached and stung. She could feel her body changing, feel more muscle where previously there was none, feel more power where previously there had been little. For a time, she felt good, the new power and muscle felt nice, maybe this was a good idea after all.

Suddenly, her bones felt like they were being snapped, her skin stretched and broke and her brain felt fit to burst. Her blood burned as it flowed within her, burning her skin as it flowed without. The darkness she was surrounded with entered her lungs as she screamed out, her inside flooding as if with ice. She thrashed out, but that caused even greater pain, like her nerves were being ripped out of her, causing her to thrash even more. Eventually, the pain was so much it began to dull, causing her to halt her thrashing and let herself hang. All she could hear was the sound of cracking bone, as her horn lengthened to five feet, eventually, even that was gone, and the darkness subsumed her.

"Does it hurt?" A voice floated through the ether.

"You would think," came the reply, almost discernible as everything slowly came into focus.

She was, apparently, in a living room of some kind. It was dimly lit, mostly black and dark red, with a thick, shag rug on the ground and a pair of armchairs flanking an ebony coffee table in front of an unlit fireplace. Two figures were visible, with one sitting on one of the chairs and the other stood just behind them, one arm on the chair's headrest, the other holding a small candle lamp, likely the source of the minor illumination.

"Why do you wear it?" The standing figure, female by her voice, asked.

The hidden figure chuckled hoarsely. "Have you not been paying attention to your own questions?"

"Of course I have," the woman said, sighing as she did, "but, why would you choose to wear it? If it hurts so much..."

She was met by a sound akin to a grunt, but the only sound being an out-rush of air. "It is power," the hidden figure replied, "power beyond the wildest imaginings of anyone. Without it, my Empire would not be half as wide."

"It's power." The woman relinquished her hold on the chair and took a step back. "But, at what cost?"

"No cost is too great," the hidden figure replied, "not in flesh or in spirit."

The woman turned to look away from the chair, towards the direction of its fellow. "I would advise you against this," she said, "but, I know you've already taken that mantra to heart. That crown burrowing into your skull buries into your mind too, doesn't it, buries into your soul with its knives. I wonder how much blood will be shed before your work is done. And how much of it will be yours."

"Blood will have blood..."

The woman laughed. "Indeed. Though, I fear there won't ever be enough for you."

"Penumbra," a voice, clearly Nicholas - though with an unknown, feminine quantity as half of it - but whispered and morose, spoke in her mind, "finally, you are beginning the first of your transformations, the first of your evolutions. You are becoming strong. This is good.

A great trial is soon to begin, though, perhaps, not the one you expect. A trial far greater than even this, this War in Heaven. A trial that will push everything to the very brink, maybe even push it over. I have a curse, some may call it a gift, but it is a curse nonetheless: the curse of foresight. For millennia, my life has been dictated to me, dictated by visions and prophecies that convince me of victory, but leave no space for my own development. It is as though we are all just words on a page, we all claim to have free will, yet behave exactly as my visions predict, just like a book. Is it free will if our fates are already determined?

You are becoming strong. But, you are not nearly strong enough. Not yet. This first evolution, first transformation, will be the catalyst for your rebirth. In time, you will be strong. In time, you will be strong enough to face this final, great trial. All in time.

For now, take me, and do your strongest."

She was suspended in sensory deprivation for what felt like hours, before the thinnest rays of light began to penetrate the layer of shadow surrounding her. Slowly, the shadow thinned, and before long she was surrounded in a translucent bubble of grey. With a rush of wind, it vanished, leaving her to slowly settle to the ground. She wobbled on her new legs, was mostly blinded with her new eyes, and could hardly hear with her new ears. Eventually, she collapsed, falling a considerable distance before impacting the floor.

Slowly, her senses returned to her, she felt the cold hardness of the ground and saw the clawed feet of Emperor Nicholas. Looking up, she saw his almost delighted - with what seemed to have a foundation of relief - expression. At least, she hoped it was delight and relief.

"Fantastic," he said, "truly fantastic. I had almost worried that wouldn't work."

He floated forwards a mirror for her to use. She instinctively reached out with a hoof to grab it, before recoiling slightly when she realised her foot had four claws. She grasped the air with them, testing their feel and use, as well as marvelling at them. Slowly and deliberately, she reached out for and grabbed the mirror. It slipped slightly, she was still clumsy in this new body, after all, but stayed in place.

Her face was far stronger than it had been: her jaw was larger, with dagger like teeth perfectly interlocking beneath her lips; her eyes glowed magenta, a vapour emitting from her black sclera, with the tiniest dot of silver light within her pupil. Her ears were like pyramids atop her head, incredibly well attuned and able to bend beneath her indigo mane should it be needed.

"It worked," she said, voice seductive and powerful, "amazing."

She stood up, shaking on her new legs, but gradually getting used to them, viewing her new form from her own eyes. Her wings were massive, even folded up onto her back, extending some two metres from her shoulders. She slowly opened them, testing their strength and feel, before fully flaring them. They curved upwards, almost touching the ceiling, casting even Nicholas into shadow.

Finally, she reached out with her magic. Her new horn was incredibly responsive, filling her mind with perfect images of her surroundings, even being able to touch upon the magical imprint of Nicholas, the mass of which made the edge of her horn tingle. She could barely comprehend the reserves of power within it, though would happily work to use them.

She began to steadily pace about the room, getting used to her new legs. The claws clacked against the metal floor, creating the illusion of dozens of tiny footsteps with every step she took. She tried jumping, then hovering with her new wings. They, naturally, created immense amounts of noise, but easily kept her hovering with just a few flaps. She felt more comfortable as she was than she had been previously.

"I think," she said, still getting used to her new voice, "that I should introduce myself to my friends."

Luna and Rarity stood on the bridge of the Night Truth, looking out over the surface of Cradle just as the rays of a new dawn came over the horizon. Light bounced from ship to ship, off emplacements on the ground and off the chrome and silver foundation of the Shield World's surface, refracting as if by a prism through the viewscreen of the cruiser.

"Incredible," Rarity breathed, "just beautiful."

Luna smiled. "Indeed it is. Cradle is a marvellous world."

With the ethereal scream of an opening portal, the room was bathed in cyan light. The pair turned to the large, open space behind the command console. Emerging from the portal came Nicholas, who had shortened himself to just over five metres tall, and a pony who seemed of a similar phenotype to Luna, though shorter and with feathery wings, but seemed to hold much greater power, held around her in an aura of purple.

"Hail." Luna bowed. "I had not expected your visit."

Nicholas waved her up with a hand. "I had not planned upon it, though she insisted." He gestured to the pony by his side.

"And who is she?" Rarity asked, looking her over.

Nicholas stepped aside, giving the pony the go ahead to introduce herself. "I," she said, voice radiating authority, "am Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra." She struck her most regal pose, clumsily. "Scholar, first and foremost. Though you will know me by another name: Twilight Sparkle."

"By Faust!" Rarity exclaimed, "it really is you! I hadn't thought my suspicions would be correct. What happened to you? Why do you look so...strong?"

Penumbra laughed, a laugh Luna seemed to share some kindred spirit with. "This is who I always was, Rarity, deep within. Nicholas just helped to release it. I've been around a long time, Rarity, longer than anyone, I just didn't know it. I'm still me, I just look without how I am within."

Rarity smiled. "It suits you, darling."

Luna approached her. Both Penumbra and Rarity couldn't help but tense up, with Penumbra putting on a better facade of calm than Rarity, especially when the latter caught sight of Nicholas' hand slowly creeping towards the hilt of his sword, his eyes glowing slightly brighter than usual. The Princess of the Night stood over Penumbra, casting her into partial shadow, eyes locked, whole body rigid and straight. She pulled her head back, causing Nicholas to grasp the end of Oathbreaker's pommel, his claws moving faster now.

She bowed. "Hail, Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra, noble scholar of our race, your subjects greet you."

Penumbra recoiled slightly in confusion, her jaw quivered, searching for a response. "Hail," she said simply, looking to Nicholas, who shrugged, his claws quickly darting back to his side.

Luna rose. "I had thought," she said, "the files seemed too similar to you to be a coincidence."

Nicholas had allowed the three the time to reconvene, to speak again after their separation of many days. He, meanwhile, had broken off, accessing the Night Truth's command centre to learn of the progress of the many operations he had set in motion. He had received only one message, a report from one of the few dozen PHALANX teams he had dispatched, it was audio only.

The voice was likely masculine, but so obscured by static and the cracks of gunfire it was difficult to be sure, "Blue Team encountered...confirm hostile...overrun...lost contact with other...gateway is active, gateway is active...swarming through...argh!"

The origin of the message was an area of interstellar space, a few light years from Cradle, which had previously been filled with PHALANX IFF tags, now empty and silent. If they were, as he suspected - as he knew - all dead, that would mean one hundred and ninety-two PHALANXs were gone, along with years of training and augmentations. It was, however, going to be worth it. No cost was too great.

"Penumbra," he called, the pony entering within a minute, "I have a mission, return to the Hand of Fate, speak to Zealot Kaidon, they will supply you with armour and weaponry."

Penumbra nodded. "Where are we going?"

"You," he said, hundreds of plans and stratagems floating in his mind, "are going to war."

X. Gateway

“Among all of the treasures encountered by the spread of the Emperor’s Will, there were found a number of installations constructed by powers unknown. When the time came for the transition beyond the Prime Universe, these installations proved their value in allowing Imperial forces to cross the vast inter-universal plains. When Imperial troops returned, laden with resources and fresh soldiers for the Empire, it was the Emperor who said unto his workers: ‘build me these machines with your own hands.’ And thus they were built.”

- How the past shapes the future by Mohiam Karn -

Penumbra had felt the shift when the fleet entered the Rift, like a sudden knock to her skull, causing a headache to shake forwards to the tips of her eyes. She shook it off within seconds, focusing again on the words of Zealot Kaidon.

Beneath their crimson and cobalt armour, they had leathery grey skin, sharp claws, reverse-jointed legs and a jaw more similar to that of an insect than her own. They were shorter than her, but still stood about ten feet, with limb and neck muscles almost as thick as her own.

"A sword," they said, voice deep and uncompromising, "press this to activate, then press it again to deactivate."

They handed the thin metal cuboid to her, it seemed to have been fitted perfectly to her new claws, with a notch specially built into the activation switch to allow the tip of her claw to enter. They removed a helmet, almost artisan, royal purple and with a hole for her horn, from the cabinet behind them, slipping it onto her head carefully. When it was fully secured, tabs of glass slid over her eyes, feeding her information as to her surroundings and the person she was facing.

"The helmet will keep you updated," they said, "battlefield conditions are prone to rapidly changing, this should assist you in adapting to them.”

Whilst she got used to the display, and tested its capabilities, Kaidon fitted more pieces of armour. She eventually had greaves, flank, back, chest armour, and even supplementary armour for her claws.

"Emperor Nicholas has ordered you to hangar six," they said, "take the main elevator." They pointed down the hall, then turned away, back to his weapons and armour.

A PHALANX team joined her, armour forest green, weapons at standby. One of them turned to her, saluting, before falling back into a square formation, Penumbra in the centre. The elevator was in the hangar within seconds, opening to reveal a bay alive with action. Fusiliers ran back and forth, pilots and maintenance crew tended to fighters and vehicles, whilst Emperor Nicholas commanded the preparations from a makeshift command centre.

"Penumbra," he said, turning to the pony and the PHALANX team, "your mission will be to access the main controls to the gateway, find a way to shut it down. Green Team here will accompany you, you will be inserted by drop pod, further briefing will be provided before drop."

The PHALANXs all nodded, one gesturing for her to follow, she caught up with them easily. "Ma'am," one said, voice apparently female, "we'll be in bay-6, follow us, we'll get you in your pod."

Fortunately, Penumbra had taken the time to immerse herself in the details of the Imperial military. Along with the PHALANXs (or whatever wasn't redacted), Fusiliers and their weapons and equipment, she had also researched the various naval craft. What Nicholas and the PHALANXs were referring to was a "Type-26 Orbital Insertion Pod," designed to be launched from an orbiting craft to rapidly deploy soldiers. Supposedly, they could hold four men, though Penumbra doubted they could hold more than herself and one other.

The PHALANXs broke off, filing into waiting pods from a metal gangway. One of the PHALANXs, introducing himself as "Tyler" led her to her pod, marked "C-188". He stood aside, allowing her a view of its interior, slightly modified to allow her enough room to strap herself in securely. Tentatively, she grabbed the side of the opening, which caused the pod to shake on its mounting.

"Don't worry," Tyler said, "it's secured, just shakes a little."

She nodded, slowly pulling herself in. She sat down awkwardly, having just enough room for her head if she leaned back slightly, her horn scraping against the ceiling, though fortunately away from the over the shoulder restraint above her. Tyler pushed himself in, checking she was correctly seated, before sitting himself down across from her, only his left arm visible behind the large black pillar in the centre of the pod.

A technician came by, wearing a standard grey dress uniform, but with a mask covering much of their face, attached by a hose to a large pack on their back. They stuck their head inside, checking the two were seated correctly, before pressing a button on a console outside the pod, causing the restraints to slowly lower. The restraints were tight, but not wholly uncomfortable, but Penumbra couldn't help but sympathise with claustrophobics. The technician checked them again, pulling at the restraints, checking they were secured properly. Satisfied, they gave them both a thumbs up, before stepping out, pressing another button, and being steadily hidden by the closing door.

The walls of the pod, previously solid black metal, lit up with perfect 360 degree images of the outside. "This is High Admiral Baal," a voice came through the speakers, "Emperor Nicholas has ordered the capture of this facility, by any means necessary. Green Team, Grey Team, Black Team and Yellow Team are to secure the facility's command centre intact; protect Praetor Penumbra, she will shut the gateway down, then we can find out what the hell this thing is for. Good luck teams, Baal out."

Four red lights ringing the central pillar activated, with a timer appearing just in Penumbra's eyeline. Another voice came over the speakers, "30 seconds to drop!"

A rumbling outside heralded the slow movement of the pod, which detached from the walkway and was slowly pulled towards a large, open space. As quickly as it had begun, the crane came to a halt, the pod swinging for a second before coming still. When the timer hit zero, the red lights flashed to green, and the voice appeared again "drop!"

Beneath their feet, massive doors had opened, revealing a dark grey metal structure, hanging in space. The ship was far too close to see much of it. Another rumble, followed by a metallic clunk, and Penumbra quickly found herself floating minutely off of her seat. Looking about, she saw the walkway, followed by the ship in its entirety, glide away, upwards, the pod seeming to vibrate when it cleared the doors.

Their pod was joined by dozens of others, all rapidly gaining on the structure below, which stretched for miles in either direction. Only a few seconds after the drop, the first hail of fire from below passed between the pods, green beams of light some three metres long cut awfully close to the pod's hull. A few seconds after, another hail broke out, hitting two pods, one was blown apart immediately, sending its occupants' corpses hurtling through space, whilst the other began to spin violently, its stabiliser torn in half. Two more hails followed, damaging another three pods and destroying a further two.

Eventually, the hails stopped, the pods seeming to have cleared the worst of the AA. Suddenly, warnings flashed up across the windows and central pillar, whilst the same voice that had commanded the voice came through again, yelling worriedly, "massive energy build up detected on the surface! Brace!"

Penumbra pulled her legs close to her chest, clutching the restraint tightly, when a film of blue energy passed over the pod, shutting off the screens and sending it careering off course. The middle pillar lit up again, flashing red warning signs. “Warning, warning," a robotic voice came over the speakers, "pod stabilisers offline."

The impact with the gateway was sudden and violent, slamming Penumbra's head into the wall and knocking her out cold.

"A warship?"

A murmur rose up from the assembled council, the accused looked about, shame keeping him from looking for too long. The judges signalled for silence, which they quickly received.

"It fled," he said, the authority his voice used to carry gone, "as we set fire to their planet. I followed with every ship in my command. It's Rift jump was random, only my ship could keep up with it."

A murmur rose again, echoing neither support nor opposition, but certainly debate. "Silence," one of the judges yelled, "there will be order!"

Another rose from his chair, "why were they not exterminated there? Before they landed on the Shield World."

The accused shook his head, "surely you understand," he pleaded, "I could not even break their shields, not with all of my firepower. Only with reinforcements could I have done so..."

Another judge interrupted, slamming their fist onto the table in front of them, "why did you not kill them when they left their vessel? You had the firepower then."

"I dispatched every soldier I had," the accused said, "but they were massacred. The Precursors must have activated something on the Shield World. They say the forests came alive."

Again, murmuring.

"Alive?" The standing judge asked, curious, ignoring the clamour around him, "how so?"

"I know not how," the accused stated, "but my soldiers reported attacks from creatures, born of wood, ripping apart men and vehicles. By the time my reinforcements arrived, and we accessed the Precursor's ship, they had entered the core, and were gone."

She eventually awoke to the sound of echoing gunfire and the screeching of some hidden monsters. As her eyes opened and the fog of unconsciousness faded, she beheld the door of the pod, thrown some twenty feet forwards, the opening surrounded by battered chunks of hull and burning wires, with the outline of a PHALANX just beyond it, firing off bolts into the darkness.

Penumbra pulled herself forwards, sitting on the edge of the pod, her legs still not quite up to standing. "Tyler," she shouted to the PHALANX, who didn't turn but acknowledged her with a shout back, "what's happening? Where are we?" She asked, throwing off spells into her surroundings, creating lights and testing the materials.

"We fell off course," he shouted back, loosing another burst of fire into the darkness, causing something beyond to scream out and collapse with a thud, "about 4 klicks from the other teams, there's something in the dark ahead, give us some light!"

Penumbra shot off a light spell, a glowing ball propelling itself forwards, illuminating small areas of the corridor as it went. Sure enough, the corridor was full of creatures, a few dozen in all, with greying skin, bulbous heads and wickedly sharp teeth and claws. Tyler shot each one as he saw it, his own bolts creating tiny bursts of light, allowing him to target another creature when it came into view.

Eventually, Penumbra had fully regained her balance and composure, letting the blood run to her legs again as she stood up and grasped the hilt of her sword. As Kaidon had told her: press the button, then attack.

The glowing orange blade was at least two metres long, illuminating a thin area all around her, allowing her to see when the creatures got too close. Carefully, she swung out at one of the creatures, whose entire body collapsed as its head suddenly became detached from its neck. Thin smoke rose from its spine as Penumbra launched another attack, gradually getting the hang of her new weapon.

The creatures in the dark were, mercifully, easy to kill. They had no armour and their skin was weak, flaming up when impacted too many times. It was not long before the corridor was clear, silence and darkness falling once again, the only light coming from the lamps on Tyler's helmet, and the sparks and red warning lights from the pod's violent entry.

"We're four klicks east of our target," Tyler said, pointing into the darkness, "trouble is: comms are down and scanners can't penetrate these walls, I don't know what's in front of us. We could walk into a hole a fall into space, or into a pit of these things and get ripped apart."

"What are they?" Penumbra poked one, which seemed to moan something at her, she immediately regretted going near it.

"I don't know," he said, "I thought they were Hollows at first, but they don't act like them, or look like them. I think they're something else, probably from through the gateway. We'd best get moving."

The corridor they were in didn't seem to connect with much, there apparently being only one door further up it, through the thick darkness that permeated everything. The door itself was remarkably primitive in appearance, looking like something Penumbra would have found in an Equestrian house, but requiring a lot of force to shift. It opened out with a hiss, revealing another dark corridor that didn't seem to connect with anything, a lot safer than hole into the vacuum but a lot less interesting too.

There were no more of the creatures that had attacked them in the corridor, with everything around them being remarkably silent. Penumbra entertained the idea that the previous encounter was all there was going to be. Perhaps, they had stumbled into an alien zoo of some kind. She quickly buried that idea when opening the next door, which was, conveniently, opened for her by one of the strange creatures, screeching at some unseen situation.

A single shot from Tyler made its screeching stop, as well as turning its head into atmosphere. The rest of its body collapsed down, the door opening as it fell to reveal a dozen more of the things within a few feet. Penumbra fumbled her blade as she tried to light it, whilst the PHALANX with her showed off his superior combat skills and opened fire. Why not, Penumbra thought to herself, leave the fighting to the soldier and let her, the librarian, not get herself killed?

One of the creatures got within inches of her, fortunately, she was so startled by its sudden presence she reflexively swung out with her magic, cutting its head clean off. Its headless and lifeless body dropped to the floor in front of her, Penumbra staring at it with thinly disguised shock, her sword hovering in place a few metres above it.

"Nice kill," Tyler called back, having advanced through the door and into the now apparently empty corridor.

Penumbra shook herself off. "Thanks," she said, playing it off as coolly as possible, before lowering her voice to mutter, "I totally meant to do that."

The corridor they were in was more of the previous, as was the one after, and the one after that too. Penumbra soon realised it was just one corridor, with doors placed every hundred or so metres for, apparently, no reason at all. They had passed through a total of eight useless doors before they arrived in an actual room, though one filled with bodies rather than anything overly useful.

They were PHALANXs, or, at least, former PHALANXs, now being badly shredded corpses. Their armour - what parts of it weren't covered in blood - was light grey, as if unpainted, with their still flowing wounds indicating they had died fairly recently. Tyler had gone over to one of them, scanning about the room for traces of the killers, which he found in the form of a single corpse in the far corner of the room.

"It's Grey Team," he said, with a slight hint of concern in his voice, "whatever got them got them only a few minutes ago, but it got them good. Let me see if I can pull any logs."

He fiddled the most intact piece of chest armour he could find, opening a panel then what looked like a tiny safe and pulling out a tiny, blue crystal stick and inserting it into a socket on his left forearm. He kneeled in silence for a moment, before removing it and placing it into one of his empty ammo pouches. "Nothing," he said, "might be damaged."

"Makes sense," Penumbra said, conscious that whatever had killed the entire team was probably nearby.

"Yeah, Chris' chest armour's pretty banged up. If I had a proper display system I could probably get the log working, but here, no chance. We best get moving, but be on your guard."

The next door along led into another corridor, though this one was distinct in having a hole torn through it, which was covered by a shimmering purple shield, with an empty drop pod embedded into the opposite wall. Its door had fired upwards, landing half a metre beside it and its occupants were nowhere to be seen. Tyler inspected it for a second. "Not one of Grey's," he said, brushing dust off of the identification plate, "looks like one of Black Team's. No corpses, or blood on the ground, so they might've gotten out fine."

"Let's hope so."

They continued down the corridor, which was mercifully empty and went on for not nearly as long as the previous. The next room they arrived in was, at first glance, empty. Tyler, naturally cautious, shone his lights about the room, falling eventually upon a dark blue PHALANX corpse in the far corner, slumped against the wall, helmet torn open.

"Recognise them?" Penumbra asked, as Tyler closed in one the body.

"No," was the reply. A few seconds of searching the body later, Tyler spoke again, "they're Mu Company," he said, slightly confused, "Blue Team, Mu Company. Mu Company didn't deploy with us. Must've come in before."

Penumbra searched the room again, getting a sudden worrying feeling there was something nearby. "Any logs?"

"No," Tyler yanked at the chest armour, to no avail, "chestplate's smashed, can't even open it. Body's about a day old, slightly older I reckon, whatever got them left quick, did a number on them too. ID plate's smashed, so are all of the connection ports, their name ends in "a", only thing I can fully get is the Team and Company."

"Do you know what killed them?"

"Something fierce, probably. Takes a lot to kill a PHALANX, I'll tell you that much."

Something echoed down the corridor, so distorted by distance it couldn't be made out what it was, but it was definitely there.

"Should we go?"

"Oh, yes, definitely."

The door, which Penumbra assumed would lead them to another corridor, was locked. As whatever was approaching them gradually gained, Tyler began to cut his way through the door, using the plasma cutter embedded into his wrist. Every few seconds, Penumbra would yell something along the lines of "are we through yet?" To which Tyler would only respond with a hopeful negative.

After an agonisingly long couple of minutes, the PHALANX was nearly through the door, though whatever was approaching them was now only a couple of doors away. As the follower banged against the final door, their escape route was finally open.

The door slowly fell inwards, before it was joined by another, far more mangled, door from the other side of the room. A creature, similar in overall shape to those encountered before, but far, far larger, emerged. Its jaws slavered and its eyes glowed lurid yellow. Without any ceremony, it bounded forwards, roaring, followed by dozens of its smaller brethren.

A chorus of gunfire emerged from beyond the door, a pair of PHALANXs dragging Tyler and Penumbra forwards, "let's get a move on," one of them, armour jet black, yelled, as his comrades loosed withering volley after withering volley into the large creature, which began to stumble as blood leaked from its legs and torso.

As it reached the three quarter point of the room, the PHALANXs turned and ran, only Penumbra's enormous legs allowing her to keep up with the unnatural velocity of her saviours. The three doors along the corridor were all open, leading to another large hall with a pair of forest green PHALANXs standing just beyond the threshold, yelling them on and firing off odd shots from a semi-automatic rifle.

The moment the final PHALANX crossed the last threshold, the forest green PHALANXs jumped back and a trio of bombs detonated, the door slamming closed just in time as the massive creature and its fellows were jettisoned into space.

"Nice job." One of the Black Team PHALANXs patted the back of one of her yellow comrades. She turned to Penumbra and Tyler. "Thanks for being our bait."

Penumbra gave her a curt nod and sarcastic smirk. "Status report," she requested to anyone who would listen, "how far are we from the target?"

A PHALANX in black armour stepped forwards, evidently straight-edged from his formal, neutral tone and the straightness of his stance, "Black Team, Green Team and Yellow Team reporting for duty, ma'am. The target is just beyond the next door."

A pair of Green PHALANXs were cutting at it with their plasma cutters, though had only progressed about three quarters of the way down.

"How long will it take to get it open?" Penumbra asked, doing her very best to fully take command of the situation.

"Approximately three minutes," the PHALANX replied, "it's heavily fortified. We do not know how many enemies are beyond it."

Penumbra nodded, formulating a plan in her mind, "set up positions around the door, as soon as it's open we engage whatever's beyond it. There is potentially sensitive equipment inside, so do not fire unless you have direct line of sight."

The PHALANXs responded by taking up positions, their soldier minds and intense efficiency setting up a pair of gun lines in a hemisphere five metres from the door, with space on either side of it to allow the two PHALANXs cutting to escape once they were through. Penumbra stood just behind their centre, ready with her magic to kill the first creature she saw, the corona of her horn sparkling hotly.

"Thirty seconds," one of the cutters yelled out, the PHALANXs all tensing slightly as they steadied their breathing and readied their aim.

"Ten seconds."

"Five seconds."

"Breaching!"

The door fell inwards as the two PHALANXs dashed to the sides. Though, to Penumbra's relief, there was nothing alive beyond the door.

Two members of Black Team entered first, scanning about with their rifles, followed by two from Green Team and then Penumbra. The room was dark, though a flick of the first switch activated the lights and revealed the control room proper.

It was a large square room with a semicircular view port at one end, giving a view of a large purple sphere hovering in space, surrounded at the four cardinal directions by the arms of the gateway structure. There were five consoles in all, two pairs facing away from each other on either side of the centre of the room, with a final, much larger console just behind the viewport. All the consoles were apparently active, their light purple display screens filled with various paragraphs and charts Penumbra couldn't understand.

She stepped up to the largest console, believing that would hold the ultimate key to shutting down the gateway. She was presented with a number of virtual buttons, all labelled in a language she couldn't read.

"There was an old saying," Radiant-Dawn-of-Remembrance remarked, "it went something like 'let the good fire the first bullet'. The Assembly took that to heart often."

"My species," Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra countered, "believes in peace. We are not a war-like race."

Radiant laughed. "We try not to be," he said, "we try. Though, it can be difficult, especially with some of the galaxy's inhabitants. Some of our thrall species prefer to fight themselves than work peacefully."

"There are those amongst us who fight." Penumbra ran a small, ornamental dagger through her claws. "Though they typically fight for peace, as much sense as that makes."

The central button, its label reading "Prime", would shut down the gateway. How exactly Penumbra knew it would, or what its label was, she didn't know, but she had learned to trust in her instincts. With an outwardly confident gesture, she pressed the button, then pulled back and waited.

For a moment, the purple sphere held still in space, before suddenly vanishing. As if by magic, her sensors returned and she was met with a flurry of communications from other teams and the ships that had delivered them.

"Baal to Epsilon Company, status report."

Penumbra placed a talon to her helmet. "Penumbra to Baal, I read you."

High Admiral Baal sighed in relief. "Thought we'd lost you there. Any reports on the gateway?"

"It's down, sir," Penumbra reported, a smirk creeping onto her face, "control room is secured."

"Copy that. I'm dispatching troops to secure the rest of the facility. I'll have a dropship with you in no time. Good work, Epsilon Company, and Penumbra, Baal out."

Penumbra looked out from her view port as dozens of cruisers began to enter the interior of the megastructure, dropships like minuscule insects darting between them and the structure, deploying troops all over. It didn't take long for a pair of Fusiliers, their light red armour identifying them as special marines, to enter the control room and escort everybody out to modified dropships which had rammed tunnels through the structure's hull, returning them to the Night Truth.

XI. The Shield

“The Emperor demands much from his servants. He handsomely rewards successes and harshly punishes failure. Such is his way, such is the way that keeps the Empire running.”

- The Emperor’s Expectations by Michelle Drakum -

"You have done well," the processed voice of Emperor Nicholas came from speakers all around her, "the gateway is secure. Soon we shall use it to begin transportation of soldiers and materials, this shall greatly assist our war effort. However, we have encountered a problem."

"Problem?" Penumbra asked, bowed in supplication, "how may I assist in removing it?"

"The gateway is just one of a number of structures, all around the galaxy, the vast majority of which have lain dormant for billions of years. The vast majority of them are similar to the gateway, in that they allow for the transportation of matter in space; most of these will never reactivate. But, there is one that has presented a number of anomalous properties, that are preventing the transits of our ships through the Rift, which are vital to facilitating our communications. Your orders are to travel to the Varia System aboard the Spite of Vengeance, there you will land on Varia Major and secure the Shield of Abaddon, located in the planet's northern pole. A task force will accompany you, go swiftly, time is of the essence."

"At once.” Penumbra rose and made her way down to the hangar, practically sprinting down the long, samey corridors.

The hangar itself was surprisingly quiet, with only a small number of maintenance personnel working on a pair of bombers and three Fusiliers in snow white armour with white cloth skirts down to their knees and hoods at the back of their helmets bulking up the neck joint by a dropship, similarly snow white, engines flared and ready.

"Praetor Penumbra," one saluted, "we were told you were coming, hop aboard."

Penumbra took up a seat in the middle of the left hand row, two of the new Fusilier class on her left side, with one two seats down to her right. Another three sat across from her, in an unbroken line.

"You don't look like most Fusiliers I've seen," she said, addressing none of the individual Fusiliers in particular, "what's with the armour change?"

"We're the 47th Guards Andromedan Snow Corps," one of them said, "trained and equipped specifically for warfare in sub-zero temperatures. Hence the armour change."

She nodded. "How cold is it at our target?"

"Very," they replied, "according to Emperor Nicholas, you should be able to handle the temperature without a change in clothing. We? We need special equipment."

"How many are there?"

"Thirty two thousand, that's what Emperor Nicholas allotted us. Five cruisers, along with our armoured division and air assets. Should be more than enough."

When they arrived on the ship, Penumbra was greeted by a hangar full to the brim, barely enough room to land the dropship let along to disembark from it, with the corrupted alicorn having to manoeuvre her large frame up through the dropship's tail and then land on one of the few, thin pathways that had been made to allow soldiers to move back and forth.

One of the Fusiliers, a captain by the red stripe painted onto his helmet, saluted her as she made her way along. "Navigation estimates we'll take two hours to reach the target if we enter the Rift now."

"Get it done," the alicorn said, projecting her voice a little further so the walking Fusilier could hear her, "is everyone briefed for this mission?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, start loading transports. We need to start getting this hangar clear the moment we enter the system."

"Yes, sir. I'll pass it along." The Captain tailed off, marching down one of the few small, connecting pathways between the passageway they were in and the one to its right.

When Penumbra reached the much wider corridor that led further into the ship, a pair of Fusiliers stepped up to her. "Sir," one said, "Emperor Nicholas has assigned us as your escort. Do you need anything?"

She thought for a moment, collating her various intentions and plans into a list of demands. "I need a battalion of troops under my personal command, a medium tank, an orbital strike targeting beacon, and a mug of tea."

One of them saluted. "At once, sir." They dashed off down the corridor.

Their fellow opened the communication pad on their wrist, which appeared much more heavily insulated than the ones she had seen on other Fusiliers. "Praetor Penumbra has ordered for a battalion of troops to be placed under her personal command, with a medium tank attached as support. She's also requested an orbital strike targeting beacon, to be delivered to her personally. Over."

A few seconds passed, "affirmative, tasking 3rd Battalion, 999th Division to her command. Anything else?"

The Fusilier looked up at her, at her negative, they replied, "that's all, command, out."

"How long will it be before I get the beacon?"

"A few minutes, at most, sir."

Penumbra nodded. "Are there any unoccupied officer's quarters?"

"Yes, sir." The Fusilier pointed down the corridor. "First right, then third left, been unused for a while."

"Very good, contact me when the ship is in position. In the meantime, go do whatever it is you'd do before a battle."

The Fusilier saluted, before tapping out a message to their comrade, then marching up the corridor to get a drink themself. "Praetor Penumbra is in OFQ-11 on deck 13, deliver her tea there."

Exactly an hour later, Penumbra received a message from the captain of the Spite of Vengeance, updating her as to their estimated time of arrival and current presence within the system. She hadn't sent a response, recognising a reply was not necessary, preferring to continue her light reading on the workings of the standard Proton Rifle used by Fusiliers.

Ten minutes and thirteen seconds after she received the captain's message, the ship suddenly rocked and the sound of an explosive shockwave rumbled throughout the interior. Penumbra threw down her datapad and sprinted to the express elevator to the bridge, having already memorised the layout of the Truth class Light Cruiser, a layout standardised across all ships of the class.

"Status report," she yelled the moment she entered the bridge, aiming at anyone who would listen, "what was that?"

"Some form of planetary defence system," an officer yelled back over the din of the rest of the crew, "we're ascertaining exactly what and where now."

The ship rocked again, then again, as more and more explosions erupted on the edge of the shields, emanating from green blobs fired from, apparently, all over the planet. The shields ran orange-red, appearing all over the ship as they struggled to recharge fast enough, just barely holding off the assault.

"Source identified, sir." The same officer rose and moved close to Penumbra, "a number of defence platforms located periodically all over the surface, they're broadcasting a message in binary, ordering us to 'stay away, quarantine active'. Orders?"

Penumbra allowed herself a moment to think, formulating a strategy, "Emperor Nicholas has ordered we claim the artefact as soon as possible," she mused aloud, before settling on her plan, "take us into the atmosphere, we'll use the cruisers as cover for the landings."

The officer nodded. "Take us in, let's get moving!"

The cruiser, at the head of the formation, began to angle, aiming directly for the magnetic north pole of the planet, approximately where the artefact was located. With a slight shunt, its speed tripled, the rest of the force following behind it. The planet-bound gun platforms continued firing, the shields buckling under the weight of the bombardment. Only when the cruiser broke atmosphere, fast enough that it caused a roar to erupt on the bridge as a shockwave burst around its entry point, did the vast majority of the gunfire stop.

Steadily, the cruiser began to tilt, bringing itself to a stop, the movement only noticeable due to the slight movements of the dark patches of the cloud cover that filled the viewscreen in all directions. Only two of the platforms remained firing, though they seemed to target more the other vessels that were following up behind, entering the atmosphere with audible thumps.

"We're fifteen kilometres over the target," an officer called out, "we're in the midst of a heavy snow storm, advise caution when landing."

The fire of the gun platforms echoed as the final cruiser's shockwave dissipated, visible only through momentary green flashes behind layers of cloud. A silhouette hovered a few kilometres from the starboard side, another cruiser, though evident only through the faint orange glow of its shields.

"Commence landings," Penumbra ordered, "then bring the ships around to draw the fire of the guns. Use the hulls as bait, keep them off the transports. Ground troops will knock out the guns." She turned and prepared to leave.

"And you, sir?"

"I'm going down there, if there's any action you think would require my authorisation, I'm giving it in advance." She entered the elevator, heading straight to the hangar, where a battalion should have been waiting for her.

Sure enough, the moment she stepped out she was met by a squad of Fusiliers, with another pair joining them within a few seconds.

One stepped forwards, a Major by the orange stripe on his helmet. "Major Felix, 3rd Battalion, 999th Division, standing by, sir."

"Get all of the Battalion's transports launching together, Major. We're here to secure an artefact, we can leave the rest of the assault to the others." Penumbra followed the Major to her waiting dropship, with another squad of Fusiliers already in and ready to go.

The pilot's voice came over the intercom, "get yourselves seated comfortably. We're going to be experiencing a lot of turbulence so fasten your harnesses and please remain seated until we're on the ground," silent over the din of the hangar, the dropship lifted off, passing out of the shield and instantly beginning to buffet about.

"Battalion's moving with us," Major Felix shouted, "got our tank coming in too, where's the landing zone?"

"I've marked it on your HUDs," she answered, "that's my closest estimate to the location of the artefact."

The Major opened his wrist-mounted datapad, he looked at it for a moment, before looking back up. "It's close to one of the gun platforms?"

She nodded. "I believe so. In fact, I believe it's underneath this particular platform. We can use the forces landing nearby to help us get inside."

The Major thought for a moment, before nodding. "Good plan."

The dropship's buffeting stopped, with only the shrieking wind and rhythmic thump of the gun platform as stimulus. A few seconds later, there was a light thud and the dropship came to a halt, the pilot's voice coming over the intercom, "we are on the ground, go, go, go!"

The ramp fell heavily, the first squad of Fusilier running out, barely visible amongst all the snow in their camouflage. Penumbra and her squad quickly followed, the eyepieces on her helmet automatically accommodating for the low visibility and bombardment of snow.

Ahead, at about fifty metres distance, stood a walker. This particular one was a dark green, though it had been covered in a coating of white to act as camouflage. Why they had not made it white to begin with, Penumbra didn't know, nor could she understand putting camouflage on a twenty feet tall armoured death machine with a glowing red eye. Nevertheless, the walker strode forwards, firing its two cannon arms into the direction of the gun platform, visible by its towering silhouette and, every twenty or so seconds, a burst of green light.

"Platform's guarded by some automated defence systems," Felix yelled over the din of gunfire, "we've got a lot of fast movers."

A platoon of Fusiliers ran by, firing orange bolts into the wall of snow ahead, three of their number were knocked down by thin beams of blue light, emanating from somewhere within the cover. Her goggles suddenly updated, allowing her to see hundreds of light green outlines of soldiers and vehicles through the previously impenetrable wall of snow, along with a number of red outlines of hostile bipedal drones and floating spheres.

Behind Penumbra, her battalion had gathered, dug into the thick snow on the ground, spread out about twenty metres both left and right. With the whoosh of rapidly moving air, then a thump of something heavy hitting the ground, her tank was deployed, rumbling up to just behind the line of dug-in infantry.

She surveyed the platform from a distance, using her goggles' enhancement of her vision to determine probable locations for an entrance. After a solid minute of searching, in which time hundreds of soldiers had passed her, as did many more gunshots, she had decided on a location, marking it with just a thought.

"That should be the entrance," she said, knowing the troops with her could see what she meant, "move to secure it, use the tank as a ram to break the lines."

"Ura!" With a thunderous, collective battle-cry, the battalion charged, Penumbra at the lead, the tank just behind her, infantry flanking in a flying-V.

The first drone she met was badly damaged, its dark grey metal shell covered in scorch marks and missing one of its arms. She brought up her sword, suspended a couple of metres ahead of her in a magical aura, slicing the drone in two from its waist to its chest.

The walker she had seen earlier moved to her left, having been joined by two of its fellows, laying down a creeping barrage that shattered the majority of the drones in its wake, giving Penumbra and her battalion a much easier showing.

The gun platform came into view, towering at least half a kilometre over Penumbra's head, built of hundreds of varying sizes of black patterned blocks of unknown material; the gun itself was made of three tiers of black cuboids, each approximately eighty or so metres long, of decreasing width, recoiling every twenty or so seconds as a green bolt shot from its end and up into the cruisers far above. The site she had believed an entrance was visible, with slight shadows around its edges suggesting it was an indent of some kind.

A field of some eight hundred drones, split in an approximate eighty to twenty ratio, lay between Penumbra and her entrance, with the numbers decreasing every step she took. Though several hundred Fusiliers were dead in the snow around her, several hundred more were pushing forwards, leaving many more destroyed drones in their wake. She came to a stop as she came across a makeshift foxhole, the two Fusilier crew of a pulse gun using it for cover, cutting a deep gash into the ranks of drones ahead.

She dropped into the divet, most of her body sticking up out of it before she went prone, which meant only her upper jaw upwards showed. She crawled slowly up to the Fusilier not firing the gun, careful not to startle them or risk getting too close to the object of a gradually waning hail of gunfire. "I am going to charge that entrance," she said, pointing out her destination to the spotter, "I need you to cover me and my unit."

The spotter nodded, tapping their comrade on the shoulder to relay the message. "Ready when you are, sir."

Penumbra lit her horn, careful to angle it down so as not to draw too much attention. She contacted the rest of her battalion, all in various positions of cover around her, telling them to break for the door as soon as she gave the signal. Upon being asked what the signal was, she rose up to her full height and loosed a wave of magical energy in front of her, blowing away a large chunk of the drones as her forces began their charge.

The pulse gun behind her made a thunderous rattle, being joined by many more like it, with what few drones stood directly in her path being ripped apart within seconds, hulls reduced to molten slag by the sheer heat of the pulse gun's shots. Penumbra reached the door first, blasting it with a bolt of magic so she didn't have to slow down.

She barrelled straight through the door, which blew open on the force of her impact, crushing another three drones who had been standing within. She was soon joined by a pair of Fusiliers, the three pushing ahead down the small corridor, which opened out into a large, foyer type area. She moved aside to allow the rest of the battalion in, her tank simply waiting outside and holding the door, laying down a withering hail of fire into the remaining drones' back line.

The foyer contained two staircases, one down and one up, taking up the tenth of the room. There was no decoration of any kind inside, with the material on the walls and floor apparently providing ample lighting. Penumbra signalled for her forces to begin to move down, then for the Fusiliers from other units to move up. Only within the confines of the building did she realise how cold she had been, patches of her fur completely frozen to ice, with her talons covered in a thin, mostly transparent sheen.

"Sir." One of her soldiers - a Leftenant by the blue stripe on their helmet - jogged up and saluted. "Staircase down leads to a large elevator platform, more than likely, the artefact is down it."

She nodded. "Just as I predicted," she allowed herself a moment of thought, devising a suitable plan of attack. "Get the troops on the platform, I'm going to see if I can perform a scan of this structure."

The Leftenant saluted and ran off, delivering the message to the few squads of Fusiliers who remained in the foyer. Penumbra, meanwhile, removed a thin black cuboid from her armour's left saddlebag, placed it on the ground and placed a datapad on top.

The pad flashed, a bar slowly filling up as it retrieved and downloaded the information she wanted. When the bar was full, the pad flashed again, the bar being replaced by a holographic projection of a three-dimensional model of the gun platform, with a number of readings taken from various energy signatures.

As she had suspected, the controls for the gun itself lay above, guarded by around a hundred security drones - the forces who were already storming it would have little trouble dealing with them. The location of the artefact, or, at least, the location she would put the artefact, lay below, in the form of a large storage complex, with only a few dozen drones guarding it, mostly formed near the bottom of the elevator platform which led to it, guarding what appeared to be a large door - similar to one that would be put on a warehouse. Most of the energy signatures that had appeared were easily explainable, such as the firing chamber for the gun or the generator powering the elevator. However, one signature, in the storage area below, seemed to be emanating from empty space, not attached to anything or having any obvious reason for being there; then, without any reason, it vanished, as though it was never there to begin with.

Despite the potential danger, Penumbra joined her troops on the platform, filled nearly to the brim with soldiers. Fortunately, the platform appeared to have been designed with much larger things in mind, allowing her several hundred strong unit to all travel down together. With a distant rumble, the elevator slowly began to descend, only the movements of the patterns in the walls informing them they were moving at all.

With agonising slowness, the elevator opened out into the lower room, forty or so drones below looking upwards and readying their weapons. Penumbra thanked her soldiers' intelligence as they began to peak over the edge and open fire, cutting down drones before the soldiers themselves could be seen. The odd few threw grenades, which exploded with an odd "bwoah" sound below, until eventually everything went silent again.

The platform touched down after far too long, revealing a field of smashed drones and an immense, closed, door ahead. The Fusiliers wasted no time, taking up guard positions and spreading themselves out in case something came through, whilst a team ran to the door controls - conveniently indicated by a bright green terminal - Penumbra close behind.

"Door's been locked remotely," an engineer said, tapping commands into the terminal, which popped open a second later, "it'll take me a minute or two to open it." They removed a curved implement from a large pouch on their chest, which sparked momentarily before it began to cut apart the cabling the engineer aimed it at, doing so with flashes of white light and a thin spray of sparks.

After much cutting and typing in the console, three mechanical thumps erupted from the door. "Door's unlocked," the engineer said, "stand back." They typed something else into the console, which beeped and the door rumbled again, opening with a painfully low speed.

No drones waited behind it, not that they would have been able to do much given the sheer weight of Imperial forces ready for them, but it raised a niggling doubt in Penumbra's mind. Regardless, she shook it off and ventured inside the pitch black storage room. "Where's the lights?" She inquired, before lighting her horn.

"Everything reconfigured when I unlocked the door," the engineer said, coming up alongside her with another squad, the flashlights at the crown of their helmets lit, casting a wide and strong beam of light, "must have knocked out the lights."

Something clicked audibly in the darkness, the Fusiliers all instantly dropping to guard stances. "Stay frosty," a Sergeant said, as more troops joined Penumbra, weapons ready.

The engineer who had accessed the door was engrossed in their datapad, with lines and lines of data scrolling by. They tapped a button, taking them to an isometric view of the room. "That can't be right," they thought aloud.

"What?" The Sergeant next to them asked, "what is it?"

The engineer shook their head. "Apparently," they pointed into the darkness, just in front of Penumbra, where a squad of Fusiliers stood, "there's something on top of that squad."

The squad in question all looked up at once, before something clicked audibly again, followed by a deafening screech as a whirr of blades and metal crashed down into the squad, the Fusiliers having no time to defend themselves.

The attacker was a large, mechanical torso with four sword-like arms, the two at the top twice the length of those below. A cylinder of blue through its centre seemed to keep it afloat, with a visible blue forcefield giving it a metre and a half or so distance from the floor. Its head was a diamond shape, with a single large, red eye in its centre. It spluttered out a loud, deep, roar of static.

The Fusiliers began to move away, the odd couple firing as they did so, as the creature moved forwards, slicing anyone within five metres in half. "Fall back, fall back," a Sergeant yelled before their head suddenly became detached from their body in a flash of sword. Even Penumbra retreated, not willing to let such a quick and deadly adversary get any close to her.

Ten Fusiliers, each armed with a machine gun, made a firing line, at some thirty metres from the attacker. With an echoing shriek, their weapons fired in concert, causing the attacker to stagger as it turned to cover its eye.

Penumbra knew she had found its weakness. "Rockets," she yelled, "I need rockets!"

Five Fusiliers, rocket launchers ready and waiting, appeared behind her within a second. "When it turns around," she ordered, "aim for its eye." The Fusiliers nodded, switching their launchers with a click to manual targeting mode.

Penumbra charged the attacker, the machine gun line ceasing fire to avoid hitting her. She swung out at the cylinder in its torso with her sword, warping the transparent material slightly. The attacker spun one hundred and eighty degrees in an instant, blaring out another bellow of static, swords all ready to cut Penumbra into quarters.

Five explosions prevented that future, the attacker's eye - and head - detonating in a shower of shards. The blue cylinder flashed, then fell grey, and the attacker's lifeless husk collapsed to the ground, smoking.

A squad rushed it, firing their rifles and machine gun into its upper torso, melting its inner circuitry in a shower of sparks. A pair of engineers approached, making certain it was truly dead. They gave a thumbs up, the Fusiliers relaxing slightly and moving forwards again.

Whilst her remaining troops attended the dead and scouted out the room, Penumbra inspected the husk of the attacker. A handful more engineers had joined the previous two, now poking at and slicing up its hull and insides.

"Do we know what it is?" She asked.

One of the engineers nodded. "Think so. Apparently it's a 'Mobile Enforcement Droid', built of some pretty fancy stuff too, considering inside it's as simple as it gets."

"Simple?" Penumbra took a look inside, seeing only a rapidly cooling semi-molten heap of metal and rubber.

"Yeah." The engineer held a length of blue rubber insulated cable in their hand. "Electronics are old school, I'm talking build at home style kit. You could fetch all of the electronic parts for a couple of Centium in the Empire. Though, whoever built this obviously wasn't Empire. This is all long before our time."

"How did it move around?" She asked, whilst examining where the translucent material had warped when her blade hit it, having left perfect right angles in the pit.

"Some sort of repulse lift," they said, "again, pretty old school tech. We use similar stuff for ground transport of Rapture fighters, though way smaller and a hell of a lot more powerful."

Penumbra tapped her talons on the ground. "I detected a large energy signature before we came down here, hung in mid-air by the looks of it, it flashed off after a few seconds, could this have been it?"

The engineer laughed. "Wouldn't bet on it. This thing's battery was almost dead and used up about as much power as my gun. Been active for who knows how long, too, definitely hasn't shut off any time recently."

"Keep an eye out for any more of these things, I'll secure the artefact."

The engineer nodded, rising from their crouch to join the patrols now filling the storage room.

Penumbra marched straight for the artefact, or where she believed the artefact was, located at the back end of the room, presumably within the storage crate that was no less than twice as large as any of its fellows.

A squad had reached it, recognising whatever was within was important, and had surrounded it, lights trained all around it and guns covering any possible angles of attack. There was a plaque on the black metal plinth holding up the crate, reading something in a runic language Penumbra couldn't understand, presumably a description or name of the artefact within. With her magic, she pulled up the casing, which gave way surprisingly easily, revealing the object of their mission.

It was made up of three shapes, the centre a brass coloured diamond, the other two being white coloured semi-translucent rectangles attached into its central spine. It emitted some sort of faint white noise, which only intensified the closer Penumbra got, before it rendered everything else inaudible as Penumbra touched it.

"He has ordered them to be brought here. Under the guise of a population transfer, he says here they shall be exterminated."

Two figures, visible only through vague silhouettes, spoke, both female in voice, with muscular shadows and, apparently, full armour and weaponry: similar but noticeably different to any Penumbra had seen before.

"Why are they being transferred to begin with? Why not exterminate them where they were?"

"Their species can still be useful, he has said, but these members are not. Besides, their homeworld's all but gone now."

"Seems odd to bring them all of this way, why not just take them to a prison planet? Or, vent them into space?"

One of the shadows shrugged, "I don't understand his motives either. But, then again, does anyone? Far as I'm concerned, pay's good, so, I don't really care."

Another shadow, shorter and more lithe, appeared, "what are you two doing? We need to prepare for his arrival and you're slacking off? Get back to work."

"Yes, Adjudicant-General."

The shadows vanished, being replaced by the artefact.

"A glimpse," a voice, deep and ethereal, echoed all around her, "of a future, or past."

"What was it?" Penumbra asked, hoping the voice could hear her, "what were they talking about?"

"Creatures," it said, "that you will know, or have known." The whole world seemed to slowly spin.

"Who?" Penumbra had a sinking feeling she knew.

"Someone you will meet, or have met." The world was spinning.

"Who?" She asked again, with more force.

"Do you feel it? Feel it spinning, spinning?"

"Praetor," a medic said, shaking her shoulders gently, "Praetor." They turned to another Fusilier. "Make sure the exit's ready." The soldier nodded and ran, leaving three medics directly around the collapsed Penumbra, with a few dozen Fusiliers guarding. "Hold up, she's coming around."

"Is she healthy?" Major Felix asked, frantically, looking about the roof every couple of seconds, "we need to move, now." A deep rumble punctuated his sentence, emanating from above.

"Steady, Major," the medic said, "we can't risk damaging her."

Penumbra blinked hard twice, clearing her vision and focusing on the medic crouched over her. "What's the matter?" She asked, slowly pulling herself up, artefact firmly in her talons.

"Something happened when we knocked off both gun platforms, now the whole place is coming down." Felix was ready to run, waiting only on Penumbra and the artefact.

"Do we have evac?" She grasped the artefact in a wreath of magic, holding it just in front of her where she could make sure it was safe, and preparing to run.

"Yep, but not for long."

"Then let's get moving."

Penumbra and the sixty or so remaining Fusiliers ran towards the elevator shaft, where cables for each soldier hung. At their bottom was a small clip, which attached firmly to another clip inside a case on each Fusilier's belt, shooting them up towards the upper floor the moment they were connected. Penumbra's cable took the form of a ring, which she grasped with both her front feet, flinging her upwards with such momentum she was only safe with use of her wings. An engineer sat at the top signed an apology, before pulling up another Fusilier and running for the exit, which had been made a large hole by some form of cannon fire - evidenced by the multitude of scorch marks and pile of debris.

Dropships hung inches above the ground outside, Fusiliers leaping aboard before they sped off the instant they filled their capacity. A significant space had been saved for Penumbra aboard one, with only two Fusiliers in red armour - not the winterised pattern of the rest of the units - aboard to assist. Penumbra managed the hop without difficulty, with Felix being yanked aboard by the two special forces marines as the dropship launched skywards, its ramp closing as the gun platform emitted a baleful green glow and exploded, the land beneath cracking and presumably falling, though the ramp closed before it could be seen.

"Praetor," an officer aboard the Spite of Vengeance appeared in her eyepiece, "I have a message for you from Emperor Nicholas, on a secure channel."

"Patch it through."

The officer was replaced by Nicholas' face, with the rest of her eyepiece darkening slightly as it fully polarised, her mouth being enclosed by similar material. "Penumbra, I trust your message was completed successfully?"

"Yes, I have the artefact."

"Excellent." Nicholas paused. "I sense something is troubling you."

"The artefact appeared to knock me unconscious. It said something to me." She did not want to elaborate further.

"What did it say?"

Her wish to not elaborate was instantly overridden by Nicholas' question. "It showed me a vision, it claimed of either the future or the past, with parallels to." She paused, unsure of how exactly to proceed. "To ponies, talking about extermination."

Nicholas nodded. "I see. The pony survivors are either in the ships with me, or are being relocated to a planet closer to the Core, where they can begin anew. I can assure you, there is no extermination."

Penumbra, though she did not know exactly why, accepted that assurance. "Did you wish anything of me?"

"I did. I have received reports of a station within the Krivin System, three parsecs from your current location. You are to transfer from the Spite of Vengeance to the Glorious Song, which has just joined with your force. The Glorious Song will provide a blockade and soldiers to allow you to assault this station, located in the system's innermost ring of asteroids. Those aboard the station are a potentially grave danger to our plans if they are allowed to spread further. Crush them, leave none alive, then destroy the station."

The transmission ended, Penumbra's mouth being freed and eyepieces depolarising again. A few moments later, the dropship landed, with Penumbra being greeted at the ramp by a pair of helmetless Fusiliers, both apparently female, with hair shaved short on both sides, with the top being tied back into ponytails. Their faces were covered in swirling patterns made of a dark green dye, apparently tattooed on.

"Penumbra?" The one on the left, with the ginger hair, asked in an accent that was recognisable but Penumbra couldn't quite trace. At the alicorn's nod, she nodded and gestured she follow. "You're with us."

Their dropship contained another four soldiers, all similarly helmetless, with near identical hairstyles - save the colour - and each with a tattooed pattern on their face, each one apparently unique.

"I've worked with Andromedan Snow Corps," Penumbra said as she took a seat, "now, who are you?"

One, the sergeant by her green cape, replied, "212th Valkyrie Volunteer Brigade. According to command you've been assigned to our squad. We'll be translating into a hotzone so don't expect to leave the dropship until we've boarded the station. Now, introductions. This is Óglach Erin." One with blonde hair and green eyes waved.

"Óglach Caitlin.” One with blonde hair and blue eyes waved.

"Óglach Ellie." One with chestnut hair and green eyes saluted.

"And you've already met Óglach Cassandra." The ginger haired soldier from earlier gave a two fingered salute.

"And Óglach Felicity." Cassandra's fellow, with brown hair and brown eyes, saluted as well. "I'm Sáirsint Harriet. Stick with us and you'll do just fine."

XII. Heretic

“Proclaimed immediately: the hereditary aristocracy of the Irenton Empire is to cease as a social, political and economical entity. All hereditary titles, wealth and land is to be forfeited to the Emperor. Refusal to do so, support of refusal to do so, is to be considered Treason of the Highest Order and Rebellion against the Irenton Empire and its Emperor. The Most Loyal Armed Forces of the Irenton Army are permitted to use all available means to prosecute this order to the finish.

Glory to the Emperor.”

- Edict for the Destruction of the Aristocracy by The Emperor, Nicholas -

Penumbra had felt the Glorious Song enter the Rift from within her dropship, seeing the faint purple corona around her vision that was symptomatic of such. Barely a minute after the corona had faded, signalling they had exited the Rift, the intercom had flared to life. "Green for deployment, lock and load."

With a rumble, her dropship and dozens more rose and sped from the hangar. Her armour didn't alert her to any weapon discharges, that would be a telltale sign of defences aboard the station. Perhaps, they had taken the station's inhabitants by surprise. Penumbra reached out with her magic, attempting to reconnoitre the station.

"Imperial cruiser! Right on top of us!"

"How did they know we were here?"

"ETA twenty seconds," the pilot flared over the intercom.

"That cruiser will prevent any evacuation attempt..."

"Dropships inbound! They're moving to board and they've blocked our comms."

With a sudden rush of noise from without, the ramp opened, revealing a makeshift hangar bay. Only one ship was in it, though there was room for about ten dropships at a time, with a dozen of what looked like engineering crew, scrambling for the exits.

An arrow whistled past Penumbra's ear, ramming deep into one of the fleeing crew's heads. The now dead crew member collapsed slowly, only realising they were dead a few seconds after the event. One of their comrades tried to drag them through the nearest exit, though another whistling arrow put them down too.

All the Volunteers save Erin leapt out, charging the few crew still remaining within the hangar, whilst soldiers from other dropships moved to the exits. Erin moved up alongside Penumbra, bow in hand, even her breathing completely silent, right eye squinting as she lined up a shot with a fleeing crew member most of the way through a rapidly closing exit door. No sooner had she loosed the arrow, that it was buried into the newly paralysed crew's spine, their body arching backwards and collapsing into the path of the door, where a squad of Volunteers quickly appeared.

"No time to waste," she said, leaping down to the floor of the hangar, Penumbra quickly following, allowing their dropship to return to the cruiser and be replaced by another.

"Have the breach teams herd enemies our way," a commander, by their yellow cape, said into the handset of a communication trooper's backpack, "we'll take them out in the choke points." She paused a moment, receiving information Penumbra couldn't hear. "Copy that, I'll tell her." She turned and yelled Penumbra over. "Command says the control room's been sealed tight, apparently the bastards have something important in there, Emperor Nicholas wants confirmation it's been destroyed. There's a stairway up down to the right of the centre door, take your squad with you. We'll clear the rest of the station, I'll send up everyone I can spare to assist."

Penumbra nodded. "So that must be the reason we didn't just destroy it," she mused aloud as she joined up with her squad, waiting just beyond the threshold of the hangar's centre door, various bodies of maintenance crew scattered about.

"We have a new objective," she said, "there's something inside the control room we have to destroy, by order of Emperor Nicholas. We'll take the stairway to the right."

Another squad was holding the bottom of it, their sergeant saluting when Penumbra arrived. "We've been tasked to you, sir."

Penumbra went first, her longsword ready in an aura of magic, a pair of Volunteers right behind her, the rest of the squads following. The staircase winded up, apparently all the way along the station's spine, passing several floors already cleared by the Imperial troops, another squad joining on at the bottom at the third floor.

At the fifth floor, only Penumbra's honed magical senses kept them from an ambush, with the corrupted alicorn bursting up from the stairway, longsword spinning at near impossible speeds to deflect any oncoming shots, whilst her magic threw rebel soldiers about like ragdolls, smashing them against the station's walls until all of them were collapsed in heaps, bones and organs torn and ruptured.

Their uniforms appeared a relatively random mishmash of armours and clothing, with the only theme being dark colours and a yellow rectangular patch on their shoulders. Their weapons all appeared to be originally Imperial issue, with various unsanctioned modifications performed and crudely spray painted a dark brown. Unfortunately for them, as Penumbra quickly deduced, their modifications often had the unintended effect of making the weapons very volatile - a fact Penumbra would happily exploit.

Another two flights of stairs led them to a sealed bulkhead, the control room beyond, and a squad of guards. As a test, Penumbra reached out with her magic, using its supernatural precision to undo a few valves here and loosen a few chambers there. With shrieking bursts of orange light, five of eight rifles detonated, turning most of their operators into mist and badly burning their fellows, with Penumbra's comrades finishing the job with a few bursts.

"How'd you do that?" Caitlin asked, as three of the Volunteers started to work on the bulkhead's controls, only to find them useless and start simply cutting through the bulkhead with plasma torches.

"Magic," she said, "I've always known how to use it, but Emperor Nicholas gave me a lot of new power recently, that and reading up on those rifles."

"We had legends back home," Caitlin said, "ancient stories, older than the Empire, even; about when our ancestors first learned to commune with nature. There was one, I can't remember the specifics, but it was about someone similar to you, regarded as a spirit of nature, with the sorts of powers you have. Probably just a coincidence, but it's an interesting thing to consider." She chuckled. "Imagine if the Archons came back, wouldn't bet against it considering what's happened recently."

"Bulkhead door's thicker than we thought," one of the Volunteers was speaking with Harriet, whilst four of her fellows slowly attempted to cut the door open, "gonna take about a half an hour to get through with what we have."

"You sure we can't short circuit it into opening or something?"

The Volunteer shook her head, "nope. Even if we could access the panel the most that'll happen is we knock out all power on the station by accident, then suffocate."

Harriet nodded, "alright. Well, keep cutting, I'll see if we can bring up heavier gear."

Penumbra trotted up behind her, "there's a problem?"

"Yes, bulkhead's sealed tight. We don't have the cutting power to get through, not as we are, anyway."

Penumbra surveyed the door, it was certainly thick, about a metre of material between her soldiers and the other end. It was also pretty solid, too, made of that miracle metal - Vulcanite, as they called it - that the Empire seemed to have in abundance, stronger and harder than any other material she knew of. It was secured in place with multiple locks and about three feet of extra material surrounding it, securing it against all but the strongest of blasts. Fortunately for Penumbra, she believed she had the strongest of blasts.

"Stand back," she said, trotting to a position four metres or so from the door and setting up her stance, "and get ready."

Her horn's magical corona wrapped around itself four times, before the light alone was near blinding to anyone standing directly behind. Carefully, she locked her horn onto a point in the very centre, with enough structural weaknesses from the cutting attempt it would give relatively easy in comparison to the rest of the bulkhead. Taking care to minimise the back-blast, she fired forwards a beam of energy, which shifted her slightly backwards, scorching the floor in its path slightly, audibly burrowing into the bulkhead for a minute straight, before, with the sound of rending metal, the bulkhead was torn from its position and a way into the control room was opened.

The Imperial soldiers jumped into action, a volley of fire whooshing past Penumbra's head the moment the blockade was down. A squad ran forwards, swords and bayonets glowing orange as they cut apart the highly susceptible coverings of the rebel soldiers. Penumbra did not follow, bending her head down to rest for a moment, allowing her magic to replenish. To their credit, her soldiers did not need her assistance, clearing the control room with brutally efficient ease.

When Penumbra finally entered, searching for whatever Emperor Nicholas could want destroyed. She quickly found it in the form of a console, a small disk drive crudely bolted on, containing a single file simply marked 'End'. She allowed her curiosity to get the better of her for a moment and opened the file. She was confronted by a few paragraphs of text, apparently ripped from various complete texts.

These Rift-based phenomena are, perhaps, not simply physical anomalies, but actions by an as yet unidentified intelligence. During my research of the Great Void, I encountered a planet on the very edge of the formation which contained a primitive culture. Normally, these would be of no interest or concern to me, indeed, I only documented said culture for posterity and to not potentially fall into any nasty habits around data collection and recording. Their myths described a number of anomalies almost exactly identical to those reported by the Echo of Retribution and others, all prophesying a supposed 'end of the world' - their primitive nature most likely being the reason for their usage of the term 'world' and not 'universe' or 'omniverse'.

...end of the world, a common feature of primitive mythology. However, quite few mythologies provide so much fact to back up their argument. This culture's view of the 'end of the world' focuses around something from within the Great Void, something that, in its slow awakening - perhaps similar to a REM state of sleep - cause a number of transient events within a plane they called the 'path to the underworld', most likely in reference to what we now call the Rift.

'And the path to the underworld will shift and alter, whirlwinds will push travellers aside and whirlpools pull them to their doom. And then, the path will be emptied, until it awakens again, when the end shall come.'

She lit her horn, snapping the disk in half before yanking it from the console, breaking that too. Her soldiers, meanwhile, had either left, placing demolition charges about the room, or waited at the door for her, watching as she smashed the console.

Satisfied that the disk and console were unsalvageable, Penumbra turned to the door. "Prepare the demolition charges," she said, "we'll detonate them then bombard the station with the cruiser for good measure."

They nodded, before suddenly vanishing. A strange chill filled the air.

Penumbra looked about in shock, before they returned again, just as surprised and far more stressed than Penumbra.

"We have to leave," one yelled, though Penumbra was so dazed she couldn't tell which.

The three soldiers who had been waiting ran, disappearing down the stairs within seconds, Penumbra dizzily trying to pull herself towards the bulkhead, which suddenly closed on her.

"I thought," she muttered, bashing on the new door with a hoof to see if it was real.

"Warning," a robotic voice blared over a dozen speakers, "warning, extensive reactor damage. Panic room systems activated, please board the nearest lifepod."

Penumbra decided to follow the voice's advice, not in the least considering she couldn't focus enough to light her horn anymore. She practically threw herself backwards, her eyes fortunately landing on a runic sign above a door: 'Lifepod'.

She scrambled forwards, moving more off of momentum than conscious effort, before moving entirely off of momentum as the gravity suddenly failed, her grab of the railing by the door becoming less one of stabilisation to stop her falling and more one of stabilisation to stop her going upside-down.

The pod itself was clearly Imperial issue, complete with the small winged star that was the universal symbol of the Imperial Navy, which guided her to the control to open and prime the device. The door, cushioned from within, released a small stream of air and opened slowly, Penumbra using its multitude of rails and guide-lines to pull herself within and secure her body with a strap. With the press of a single interior button, the door closed again, just as a distant but audible explosion began to rock the station.

The door locked with a click and rush of air, before a friendly, if robotic, feminine voice appeared over the speakers, "initiating lifepod preservation features."

Penumbra shivered, the temperature of the pod had dropped rapidly, to just below uncomfortable levels. Her temperature was quickly forgotten when she was suddenly weighed down in her seat, the station having catapulted her up and out, a booster on the lifepod propelling her at an incredibly high velocity away from the station, with the cruiser she had arrived on nowhere to be seen.

"Activating stasis functions." The little window at the front of her door began to freeze up, with Penumbra feeling like she was drifting off to sleep. "Please remain calm." A liquid appeared at her feet, thicker than water but still flowing with ease, which rapidly rose until it completely filled her lungs and the pod itself. Penumbra fell unconscious a second later, her brain almost immediately ceasing its non-essential functions.

XIII. Trials

“I am certain that, in time, the trials of the Retribution War, which scarred our Empire so badly, will be overcome. The new Imperial Administration must listen to the people it rules, who know better than anyone their conditions - and they must work tirelessly and without reservation to improve the lives of all in the Empire. This must be done, so that the Retribution War and Insurrection Wars are not repeated. We have defeated our enemies on the battlefield, now we must defeat our enemies on the social front.”

- Tasks of the new Imperial Administration for the Reconstruction of the Empire by Haisan Uluvan -

Penumbra hauled herself out of the pod, legs like liquid. She dropped a full metre onto the hard ground, barely feeling the cold on her numbed face. She spluttered, tasting the fresh air, biting off chunks of it and relishing being able to properly breathe again. Her eyes opened slowly, the lights of day time blinding her. She slowly lifted her leg in front of her eyes, shielding herself from the sun, which seemed to fill the whole sky.

"Yes, sir, she's here," a voice, like the Fusiliers she'd dreamt of, said, "yes, sir. No, sir, she's just waking up. Yes, sir, I'll get her as ready as I can."

The blindness slowly faded as something stood in front of her, reaching out to grab her face…

A pair of fingers snapped repeatedly. "Hey," the voice said, "wake up, try and get your bearings."

She slowly began to shake off her dream state, focusing onto the Fusilier above her, they were speaking into a communication pad on their left wrist, saying something Penumbra couldn't quite work out. Steadily, she rose to a sit, then, shakily, stood up. Shaking off her aching muscles, she began to tiptoe around a little, regaining feeling properly.

"Yes, sir," the Fusilier said, "I've done a scan sir, she's clean. Yes, sir, I'll tell her right away."

The Fusilier turned to her, beckoning her closer. "Emperor Nicholas wants you on the bridge," they said, "wouldn't say why, best get moving."

Penumbra nodded glumly, trotting over to the elevator at the far end of the almost empty hangar. Everything seemed very large, open and quiet, as though everyone had suddenly vacated the vessel. Slowly, her memories faded back in, and she was confronted with the realisation that what she had experienced was not a dream. She remembered Pinkie Pie, how she had been burned with Equestria; how Equestria had been destroyed before her very eyes. Yet, despite what she should have been feeling, she felt quite normal, as though nothing had happened at all.

The ride was far slower than she remembered, taking in excess of five minutes before the elevator dinged and the doors opened, revealing an almost pitch dark bridge. Penumbra slowly stepped out, looking all around to find a switch, or anyone within the bridge who could find one.

"Hello," she said, voice echoing through the darkness, "anyone here?"

"You have done well," came the voice of Emperor Nicholas, the darkness being pulled into his shadowy form, "your trials are complete," he held out a hand in congratulation.

Penumbra moved her hoof to accept it, before pulling back slightly. "Trials?" She asked, "what do you mean trials?"

Emperor Nicholas chuckled, "the trials. What you just went through, of course."

Penumbra recoiled, recognising immediately something was off. "You're not Nicholas. Take off that skin, it is not yours!"

'Nicholas' smiled, nodding, before being engulfed in magic: Changeling magic. The imitation of Nicholas was replaced by Queen Chrysalis, with a dozen drones emerging from the shadows around the bridge, forming a broken circle around Penumbra.

"You are very astute," Chrysalis said, eyeing her up and down, "Nicholas had told me of your ability but I will admit I did not believe him. How wrong was I." She slowly approached, checking Penumbra's every inch, even as the mare tried to scare her back. Chrysalis simply laughed and shrugged her off. "Calm yourself," she said, "if you are a true servant of the Empire then you are a friend of mine and of my Changelings."

Penumbra, standing well over two metres taller than the Changeling Queen, shot her a look. "And how can I be certain?" She asked, "you have already masqueraded yourself as the Emperor, why should I trust your word? Given your natural propensity for falsehood." She shot Chrysalis another glare, one that carried with it a simple message of 'answer or die'.

Chrysalis bowed. "You have no reason to trust me," she admitted, "other than the fact I doubt Nicholas would be pleased if you killed me."

Penumbra closed the gap between them with one step, she stooped to look the Changeling dead in the eyes, so close she could feel her limited natural body heat through her chitin. "Well," she said, menacingly, "if you are lying to me, he would be most pleased if I brought him your head."

Chrysalis was silent for a moment, as if gauging Penumbra's mood. Eventually, she broke out into a chuckle. "Very good," she said, "it is done, Archangel, I believe she is ready."

The sound of armoured footsteps came from behind her, Penumbra looking up to regard a figure forged of perfect beauty, long blonde hair flowing, face pale and smooth, with a pair of white, feathery wings folded behind her. "The Emperor will decide that," she said, "come, Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra, Emperor Nicholas awaits you in the Shrine. He does not like to be kept waiting."

The Archangel, Barachiel as she had identified herself as, led Penumbra down into an area below the bridge. What she had identified as the Shrine was a small room, about seven metres high, twenty both ways across, pitch black and with, at first glance, nothing within. The natural light that radiated off of Barachiel soon revealed a small, obsidian plinth in the centre of the room, a purple crystal resting atop it. The Archangel stopped at the door, gesturing for Penumbra to continue within.

"You have done well," Emperor Nicholas' voice whispered from the ether, now clearly his, "the gateway is ours; as is Abaddon's Shield; and now, with the completion of your most recent mission, the traitors have been silenced."

"Thank you, my Emperor." Penumbra bowed before the crystal. "What would you have me do now?"

"I have one final task for you," Nicholas said, "Celestia dwells in the belly of this ship. Kill her."

Penumbra was taken aback. "What?" She blurted out, "why? What has she done?"

A sourceless breeze rushed past her. "Do you doubt me? Celestia must die to expedite the plan. My will be done."

Penumbra's jaw trembled. "Yes," she stammered, knowing only that she must do as he ordered - though she had no idea why her mind refused to consider alternatives - "your will be done."

"Good, the Angels shall guide you into the belly of the ship, quell the heresy within."

Penumbra rose and left the shrine, Barachiel beckoning for her to follow. "We have secured deck 7," she said, "as well as much of deck 8, aside from sub-sector 2, where Celestia and her forces have concentrated."

"Forces?"

"What members of your race have continued to follow her and turned against the Emperor's truth." Barachiel unsheathed her sword, which caught aflame with an aura of magic. "The Emperor ordered me to not harm any of the ponies, and his will is absolute." Barachiel seemed almost bitter in her words, looking down to her silver vambraces, which were at least twice the thickness of her arm otherwise.

"Who are they?" Penumbra asked, praying none were her friends.

"None you would care about," Barachiel replied, knowing what she meant, "soldiers of your species, mostly, undisciplined and weak."

Penumbra huffed, just what she needed right now, thinly veiled speciesism - or whatever such a thing would be called. The two entered an elevator, a pair of Changelings, massive and heavily armoured, standing guard over it. Barachiel muttered something, though Penumbra couldn't hear it, with the Changelings simply grunting as she passed, but saluting for Penumbra.

Slowly, they descended, Barachiel flexing her grip on her sword as they went, apparently eager to kill something. She would turn her left arm around, observing the silver vambrace, covered in gold and jewelled ornamentation, muttering something in a language Penumbra had never heard before. When the elevator stopped, and the doors opened, they were greeted by dark corridors, what few lights there were coming from the various angels that were dotted about. Some held guards, silver swords in hand, whilst others held down pony prisoners: Royal Guards by their armour, though some were clearly not guard trained, given their small statures.

As Penumbra walked, the defeated ponies looked to her. "Help us," one said, before being silenced by a Calvus angel, whose only clothing was a pair of steel manacle like bindings on their arms. Penumbra looked the pony's way for a moment, before turning back forwards, avoiding the gaze of the captured ponies as best she could.

They arrived at a bulkhead door, a pair of Calvus angels guarding it. "Celestia and the rest of her ilk lie beyond," Barachiel said, "we will deal with the rest, you find Celestia."

The door opened, the naked angels charging in first, battering the defenders with their sword hilts. Despite their lack of armour, the angels were remarkably immune to the guards' weapons, shrugging off even the sharpest spears with nothing but their skin. Several more of their fellows joined them, some with thin coverings on their chest and / or waist, with a rare few wearing pieces of steel armour.

Penumbra waded through the line, angels dragging ponies to the ground and out of her path. Some of the guards shouted profanities at her, calling her a "traitor," Penumbra wished she could ignore them. She could not fully, however, and so walked with her eyes as far from the pummelled guards as she could, before coming upon the final door, which Barachiel said would lead directly to Celestia.

A pair of Calvus angels opened the door, only to be blasted back by a blaze of golden light, slamming into some of their fellows behind them. A second later, Penumbra grabbed Celestia with her magic, holding her slightly off of the ground, her horn tilted upwards where it could no longer reach out to attack anything.

"Celestia," Penumbra said, "what are you doing?"

"Saving our race, Twilight," Celestia said, half choked by Penumbra's magical vice, "Nicholas killed our planet, I won't let him enslave us."

"Enslave us?" Penumbra queried, "Princess, he wouldn't enslave anybody, he's a kind, just ruler." She hadn’t even thought of that sentence - it had just come out.

Celestia scoffed, "look behind you," she said, "those 'angels', do they look free to you? Or do they look like slaves? Most of them are not even given clothes, just bindings. You do not need magical sight to see that."

Penumbra did turn, looking at the angels who had been thrown aside. They were being tended by their fellows, whilst others looked on at Penumbra with a mixture of hatred and fear. None dared enter the room, instead hanging by the door, swords ready.

"They're not slaves," she stammered, "I know they're not."

Celestia scoffed again, "of course you do," she said, forcing her head down to look Penumbra dead in the eye, with her only eye that was left, "you remember what he did to me. Do you think he has the capacity for mercy? He would happily enslave an entire species if it suited him. Do not let him corrupt you, Twilight, you're our only hope."

Penumbra thought. Perhaps Celestia was right? Maybe, in spite of what he claimed, Nicholas was the enemy here? He had destroyed her planet without a second thought, killing Pinkie and millions more without a care, then used her to access the Shield World. He'd also changed her, where once she would have probably vomited at the simple thought of killing, now she could do it with ease, had done it with ease. He'd sent her on multiple suicide missions, used her to collect artefacts, access machines and kill his enemies. Now, he was using her to kill her mentor, the one pony who had been with her from the start.

She relaxed her magical grip on Celestia, not enough to put her down, but enough that she could move more freely. She didn't fully release her, in part due to her still thinking, but mostly due to the angels behind her, who she was afraid would just kill her and Celestia.

"He's," she stammered, trying to think of something to defend Nicholas - and by extension, herself - with, "he's going to give us a planet," she said, "somewhere where we can build a new Equestria."

"To replace the old one?" Celestia asked, mockingly, "the one he burned? He could give us a thousand planets, it wouldn't replace the one he destroyed, along with millions of our people."

As much as Penumbra hated to admit it, she was right. Nicholas had, maybe with good cause, but certainly without remorse, committed a genocide of immense proportions. Even the Reformisten of old Equestria could only dream of the destruction he caused. So far, only a few thousand ponies and some Changelings had survived the destruction of Equestria, with not even some of her friends being spared. Something that had angered Penumbra was that, whilst Pinkie Pie had been left to die, Chrysalis had been saved - the same Changeling who tried to take over Canterlot, ostensibly to rule in Celestia's stead, though more likely to simply kill or enslave all ponies. Worse, Chrysalis seemed to like Nicholas, even bearing him, or part of him, on the ship - her ship.

"He'll kill us both if I help you," Penumbra said, trying her hardest to not immediately agree, "but, he wants me to kill you now."

Celestia laughed, "I'd expected as such, he'd already heavily cracked down with his army of slaves. I didn't think it would be long before he sent his favoured liquidator."

"Those heretics deserved to die," Penumbra said, "it was the right thing to do."

"Heretics? The right thing to do?" Celestia interrupted, "listen to yourself! You've been inducted into a cult. What happened to Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship? My faithful student? Friendship reports have been replaced by casualty reports, peace by war. Can you not see what he's done to you?"

She could see it, she knew she could see it, it was plainly obvious. Yet, she couldn’t acknowledge it. Whenever she focused on it, tried to fight it or reason with it, it vanished, placing her into a semi-blissful ignorance - if only for a second.

"You're," Penumbra stuttered, "you're right," she said at last, sighing, "but, I can't let you live. I also can't kill you."

Penumbra slowly lowered Celestia, who seemed relieved when her feet touched the floor again. Penumbra looked down at her feet, unwilling to look her mentor - or, at least, former mentor - in the good eye.

"You're right," Celestia said, "you can't."

A sudden golden flash heralded an uppercut that knocked all of Penumbra's breath out. She collapsed to the ground, spluttering as her brain tried frantically to come up with an explanation. Eventually, her eyes came to rest on Celestia, horn and mane flaming, who lorded over her body. She couldn’t rise, nor really move any of her muscles, whatever Celestia had done to her would not be simply fixed.

"Back," she roared, voice carrying far more authority and gravitas than it had before, "back you beasts!"

Penumbra, reaching out with her magic, saw a pair of angels at the door. They aimed their swords at Celestia, trying to menace her into stepping back, but refused to cross the threshold of the door - not that she blamed them for that.

"I'm sorry," Celestia said, less a genuine apology and more a clear attempt to save face, "I can't let you jeopardise this, Twilight. Lie back and accept it, and this will be a lot easier for the both of us."

Her horn glowed again, with what Penumbra could only assume was a killing blow in mind. She was muttering something under her breath, which Penumbra couldn't quite hear. Penumbra closed her eyes, hoping that her body could withstand Celestia's attack, or at least make it painless.

The attack, however, never came.

There was a thud, followed by a shrieking, ethereal pop. Penumbra opened her eyes to behold Emperor Nicholas, standing over a rapidly receding portal, with Princess Celestia nowhere to be seen.

He looked down at her, seeming to be contemplating whether to bring a sword down on her. Eventually, he growled, and vanished into a portal, leaving her alone in the darkened room.

Penumbra's jaw quivered, with a thin film of water forming in her eye. She tried to say something, hoping Nicholas would hear, but nothing came out but a quiet, choked sob. She continued to lie on the ground, painfully aware of her failure, but worried of its consequences.

"My Lord." The dryad bent its knee in supplication. "Two hundred Moons have arrived from Vehemence, they will serve you."

Nicholas chuckled harshly, "what good are they? What are a billion Moons, if the one star I need is gone? Answer me that, keeper of the forest, what good are all of my keys, when the one I need for the door is missing?"

The dryad was silent for a moment. "She could be turned. We could bring her to our Grove..."

"No," Nicholas interrupted with a roar, "you will not lay a branch on her, nor shall anyone. My plan must be reassessed. Take us to Cuspoir, Penumbra shall have one final test of her loyalty, order for Doctor Estilius to be ready to receive us."

"At once, my Lord."

XIV. Together

“Emperor Nicholas understood the importance of love. Loyalty was one thing, loyalties could be turned, replaced, broken, but love weathered even the most brutal of punishments. He understood that he did not need the loyalty of his subjects, he needed their love. In his own words: ‘loyalty will make a person fight for you, love will make them die for you.’”

- The Emperor as our Father by Michael Herus -

"Listen, AJ," Twilight twiddled her hooves - if she had a collar, she'd have tugged it - "I've got something I have to tell you."

Applejack, well known throughout Equestria for her apple farming, was - shockingly - apple farming. Twilight heard a tree be bucked, followed by the dropping of apples, and finally a shout from Applejack, "what? Twi, ah can't hear ya!" Applejack emerged from behind a throng of trees, absolutely soaked in sweat and the hottest thing on Equestria that wasn't on fire - quite literally steaming. She, to her credit, handled the heat and strain of work incredibly well, planting a calm hoof on Twi's shoulder. "Thar we are, what'dya need, Twi?"

Twilight chuckled nervously. Applejack - and just about everypony else - knew she wasn't socially adept, so her mumbling and fidgeting and lack of eye contact wasn't something most ponies picked up on. "Well," she said, straining to get the word out, then allowing herself a short time to breathe before continuing, "I was wondering." Another rest. "If you would like to." Another rest, this one twice the length of the previous. "Erm.” Another rest, seems the last part really took it out of her. "Go get lunch together, later, today, soon." Twilight Sparkle, the social butterfly, gave her best, winning smile, which made her look a bit mad.

Penumbra stayed close to Applejack. The Fusiliers who were escorting them to Doctor Estilius' facility were far less courteous than the ones aboard the Hand of Fate. They'd practically pushed her onto the transport, not saying a word to her. They had been led by a Heavy, with an enormous suit of power armour, far bigger than she had seen before, they'd just grunted at her and pointed to a pair of seats, where she and Applejack were expected to sit. Emperor Nicholas had told her that Cuspoir held a massive genetic research facility, though he had not specified why she would be travelling there. Penumbra, however, did not ask, she was already on Nicholas' bad side, no need to make it worse.

The landing pad was wide, open and mostly empty, save their transport and a contingent of Fusiliers marching out of the facility's unnecessarily enormous gates. In their midst walked three scientists, easily identified by their white lab coats. As rain and wind whipped the pad's occupants, one of the scientists, a female Valkyrie by her rugged bone structure, with a Fusilier holding an umbrella over her, stepped forwards. "You are Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra, correct?" At Penumbra's nod, she continued, "excellent, I am Doctor Amanda Estilius, Emperor Nicholas told me you would be coming. Come, let us get in out of the storm."

The facility's entrance was a large atrium, like the atrium to an office block in Manehattan. The reception desk, rather than being staffed by a well dressed pony, was staffed by a pair of security guards - not Fusiliers - clothed in navy blue uniforms. They looked cleaned, disciplined and smart, but not like soldiers.

Doctor Estilius walked up to one of them. "Doctor Amanda Estilius," she said, "please inform Doctor Giraud that I am coming down to him, with the guests."

The guard nodded, tapping something out onto his console, "elevator two is ready for you, ma'am."

"We will be riding down to the labs." Estilius said as they entered the roomy elevator. "You are not to touch anything. You may be here with the Emperor's will, but I outrank you in my facility, am I clear."

"Yes, ma'am," Applejack replied.

"Good." Estilius straightened her tie. "Stick close to me and don't speak to anyone, there is important work going on in this facility."

The important work Estilius mentioned would soon be revealed, by a cheery concierge screen the moment the elevator doors opened. "Welcome," it said, "to Cuspoir Genetic Development Labs, the home of Imperial Xeno research."

Doctor Giraud was a rather short man, about half a metre taller than Applejack. He was talking to a security guard and what looked like an engineer, the engineer nodded at something he said, then left down a dark hallway. Doctor Giraud noticed Estilius and the group's approach, hobbling away from the guard to speak with them.

"Doctor Estilius," he said, shaking her hand, "what would you like to see?"

"The guests," she said, putting enough strain on it to give Giraud a message, "would like to visit the control hub, get a feel for the general gist of our research here."

Giraud nodded. "Very well, follow me." He hobbled off, the guard standing alongside him, towards a door at the end of the room, which led into a large rotunda, with walls covered in screens showing various pieces of data or camera feeds. Crucially, one area was blank on the cameras, displaying only a large "ERROR," message in white text.

"Why's that camera not fixed?" He asked one of the camera operators, who shrugged and continued with their work.

"We were having some problem with the lighting in containment-17 yesterday," the guard said, "I reported it to maintenance, might just be electrical troubles."

Giraud grunted, turning to the group behind him. "Anyways," he said, "here's the control room, this is where all the data feeds of the whole facility comes through. Here, we have master level access to the whole facility, as well as direct links to the planetary garrison and administration."

"Well," Applejack said, looking about at all of the runes and graphs she didn't understand, "sure is a lot of stuff."

Giraud rolled his eyes, though Applejack was too busy looking at a rapidly changing graph to see. "Indeed," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "everything from experimental data to atmospheric readings comes through here," he said, this time aiming at Penumbra, "we get the weather report a day early."

The graph Applejack was observing was labelled in a series of runes she didn't understand, with whatever data it carried completely lost on her. Whilst Giraud spoke to Penumbra, it began to shift colour from blue, to light purple, to red. Applejack, still unable to recognise what that change meant, mused aloud, "what does that red mean?"

Giraud turned to her, slowly, barely masking the contempt he had for her, before he froze in shock upon seeing the graph. His lip quivered for a moment, before he yelled at a subordinate, "contact the meteorological office, I want a global atmospheric scan, right now."

A few moments later, the subordinate returned a result. "Silence," he said, followed by tapping his console a few times, "I'm getting nothing from the met. Should I switch to outboard cameras?" At Giraud's frantic nod, he tapped his console a few more times, before staring intently on something, closing into his viewscreen. "What the?" He paused. "Looks like something's burning in the city."

All the lights in the facility suddenly switched off, being replaced promptly by low, red lamps. The intercom system crackled to life, a deep, robotic voice coming across it, silencing the friendly tone of the concierge system, "red alert, red alert, containment facility in sector 17 breached, red alert, red alert, all personnel are to report to safe zones immediately. Red alert, red alert..."

Weapons discharge echoed from somewhere outside the control room, followed by frantic shouting from a security guard, then further discharge. The guard who had come with Giraud headed for the door, it opened automatically and he peeked his head out, looking as far down the attached corridors as he could in a few seconds. He pulled his pistol from its holster and stepped back in, pressing something on the door's control panel, which gave a click. He marched back up to the group, a disconcerted look on his face. "Whoever should be out there, isn't. It doesn't look good."

"What's going on?" Penumbra asked, becoming visibly worried.

Giraud looked as though he was going to answer, before he trailed off and walked back to a computer screen. His guard answered instead, "containment breach," he said, "I don't know what's in sector 17, but it can't be anything good."

The weapons discharge outside suddenly went silent, with the guard stepping forwards to aim his weapon towards the door. Everything was silent for a few seconds, Penumbra able to hear the heart beats of her companions, before something made a long scratch along the outside of the door. Penumbra felt a shiver run down her spine, with the guard tensing up and clutching his weapon tighter.

"Containment 17," Doctor Giraud said, voice seemingly consigned to fate, "housed an experimental, self-replicating bio weapon. It's essentially an aerosolised version of the Hollow plague, with some modifications, it has a latency period of exactly a day, so it must have been released yesterday."

"Wait." The guard looked over. "That means..."

"We're all infected."

The guard stood up and walked over to an empty console, he inputted a series of credentials into it, before lifting a microphone. "This is Cuspoir Genetic Development Labs, Atlas City, Cuspoir Sector, we are experiencing a category 6 aerial biological event, advise all on planet elements to quarantine themselves or evacuate, if they have not intaken any planetary air since 11 o'clock yesterday morning. Advise all off planet elements to quarantine planet surface. Message repeats."

He turned and walked over to Penumbra. "Take my IntraSAT," he handed her a small data pad, with a glowing blue screen showing a zoomed out image of the planet, which she stuffed into her saddle bag. "Try and get off the planet, you're not fully turned yet, and I doubt you'd be compromised anyway - call it a hunch. I'll try and clear you a way, keep away from populated centres, the IntraSAT should guide you to an evacuation point."

"Wait," Giraud interrupted, "what about the rest of us?"

The guard turned, raised his pistol, and shot the researcher clean through the forehead. Giraud collapsed backwards, unable to comprehend his own death in the microsecond he had before his thoughts ceased. The guard sighed, before turning back. "The rest of us will stay in the facility. We'll clear you a path out, then stay out of your way. If we turn, don't hesitate to kill us."

Penumbra nodded. "Where should we head?"

The guard had walked over to the door, preparing to unlock it, whilst Doctor Estilius and the three other control room workers armed themselves. "Try and head to Morrigan, north of here. Atlas will be overrun, but Morrigan should be mostly free.” A click came from the panel, the guard nodding and readying his pistol. "Get behind us. We'll clear a path, once you're in the open, run."

Penumbra pulled Applejack close, the farmer pony definitely not ready for whatever was beyond the door. It opened very slowly, in near total silence, revealing a pair of grey skinned guards, who seemed to stare blankly at each other. When enough space was revealed for those in the control room to escape, the guard shot both of them in the head. Their heads, apparently weakened, blew open and their bodies collapsed into heaps, releasing a thin blue mist into the air.

The group surged forwards, with the control room's staff providing cover on the flanks. The already turned infected only noticed when about a dozen of their fellows collapsed dead before their lightless eyes. A pair of infected stood by the elevator doors, only to quickly be splashed against it, then scraped along the door frames as the elevator's doors opened, revealing a single, confused looking infected, who quickly became a thin cloud of blue mist and was replaced by a crumpled corpse and the evacuating Imperials.

As the elevator rode up, the guard turned to Penumbra and Applejack. His face was crossed with a frown of sad acceptance, though his eyes seemed to glint. "There'll be a water skid waiting at the dock, take it and head to the east of the lake, as far from Atlas city as you can get. Then, take the mountain path north, to Morrigan. The IntraSAT should be able to communicate when you're higher up."

"What about you?" Penumbra asked, though she feared she already knew the answer.

The guard nodded, solemnly. "We'll cover your escape, then try and blow the base. Whatever ends up happening, I'm not becoming one of those things." He looked down to the corpse on the floor, greyed, atrophying and clad in an engineer's uniform, complete with hard hat, which lay where his head should have been.

Penumbra sighed. "Thank you," she said.

The elevator door opened, with the reception only containing a pair of infected, both of whom stood confused. Penumbra assumed one of them, wearing a navy blue guard uniform, was one of those manning the reception when she came in. The other, wearing a dark grey uniform, was clearly professional military, complete with holstered pistol on his belt and peaked cap, silver badge glinting from the sun as he slowly turned in one place.

The guard shot them both without any sort of hesitation, shaking his head and muttering as he shot the uniformed militaryman, "shit, shit, shit," he swore, drawing Penumbra's attention as they jogged to the exit.

"What?" She asked, "did you recognise them?"

The guard shook his head. "No," he said, "but they're probably from Traynor Station. They probably aren't even in uniform, they'll have been overrun."

They reached a shallow skiff at the port's edge, with enough room for eight or so men, more than enough for Applejack and Penumbra. As the two ponies loaded themselves in, the guard and another of the control staff began untying the moorings.

"Remember," he said, "east of the lake, then head north."

Penumbra saw the ideal landing point in the distance: a thin beach at the foot of a large mountain range, with what was clearly a thin dirt path leading up into it. It contrasted starkly to the metal and glass of the city, with its thin plumes of smoke rising from the few minutes of chaos that had turned the entire planet. Though she had barely the time to think, Penumbra considered the view pleasant, almost enjoyable - had the looming threat of death not been hanging over her.

A set of shots rang out, with Penumbra snapping from her momentary trance. She had been staring at the mountains for just too long, with the infected now closing in on their little edge of the dock. There were about twenty in all, well spread out, all clad in various uniforms. She had no doubt they were from the base, though the reaction of the guard told her she need not care.

"Go," he shouted, "gun it for the edge, we'll cover."

Penumbra nodded, turning to the boat's console with an air of knowledge and authority. To the outside observers, she skilfully kicked the boat into high gear, then expertly executed a jump start, propelling the boat forwards at a rapid pace, clearing the dock in a second. In reality, however, she hit a button by accident then panicked and pushed forwards another lever - also by accident - which sent the boat flying forwards and its two occupants backwards, clinging to their seats and to the hull for their lives.

It took only about a minute to reach the shore, whereupon the boat crashed and became embedded in the sand, with Penumbra evacuating it as fast as her freakishly long legs could carry her. Applejack followed shortly after, pale and slow. Her shell-shocked expression would have made Penumbra laugh in another circumstance.

"Where," Applejack started, before stopping to take in a great gulp of air, "where are we now?"

Penumbra looked up at the mountain behind her, very conveniently the one she had been aiming for - making all of the previous minute a calculated action she could be praised for, rather than an accident that could potentially have cost them their lives.

"Right where we need to be," she replied, before realisation dawned on her, "well, right below where we need to be."

With tremendous effort, they hauled themselves up the silvery, trodden path up the mountain. When they emerged from the thin mist that had formed about half way up, even Applejack was beginning to tire - something Penumbra had originally thought was against the laws of the universe. Their trek, however, quickly became worth it; as, with aching legs and sullen brows, they sat at the summit of the mountain and looked out over Morrigan: whose rolling moors and freckles of woodland reminded her of home, though with a more wild, energised nature to it. The sight lifted the pressure from her legs and back, and she was filled with an almost overwhelming feeling of determination.

They sat together, Applejack and Penumbra, at the summit of the mountain, for an hour or so, contemplating the wonder and beauty of this new world - and how far they had come since they last saw Equestria. As dusk was rolling in over the distant horizon, something crackled, which startled both of them.

"Wha?" Applejack questioned, though who exactly she was questioning was unknown.

The same something then beeped, then beeped again, then beeped a third time before Penumbra realised what it was: the IntraSAT uplink the guard had given her. She took it from her saddle bag, then tapped its screen twice.

"Establishing data uplink, standby."

They waited for about three seconds, before the voice spoke again, "IntraSAT systems online."

Penumbra, remembering how several Fusiliers had used similar pads, held it close to her mouth and then spoke, "where is the nearest evacuation point?"

The pad was silent for a moment, with Penumbra about to try again before it suddenly began speaking again, "the ship-breaking yard at Cemaes, the only remaining off-planet evacuation point." The pad's world map had zoomed in, highlighting both their current position and the large complex beyond the horizon. The small runes that ringed it told her the distance was about 50 kilometres, a long way to walk, for sure. "All non-compromised Imperial forces are to converge on the site at once, in preparation for planetary evacuation."

Applejack nodded to herself. "Alright." She took another glance at the map, her eyes darting back and forth to memorise it. "Let's get movin'." Without another word, she began trotting off down the mountain, away from the lake. Penumbra scrambled to follow, impressed at her stamina and surprising speed.

All those years hauling apple carts must have helped her, she mused, as she finally caught up with the farmpony, whose steely gaze was set on the misty horizon.

They walked for 12 straight hours before Applejack began to sag. Penumbra guided her to the side of the dirt track they had been following, into a thin run off ditch partially covered by trees. There, the farmpony collapsed onto her haunches, her eyelids heavy and practically closed. Similarly, though she didn't show it, Penumbra was tired also: even with all her superpony abilities, the humble farmpony had almost outlasted her. Had she not known better, she would have been impressed by Applejack's tenacity, instead, she simply felt pride in her friend.

Applejack was asleep as soon as she touched earth, only her gentle breathing and thin heartbeat indicating she was still alive. Penumbra, meanwhile, just slumped back. She had remembered what Nicholas had taught her about wilderness survival - specifically about taking turns to watch - and thus scanned back and forth along the track and neighbouring moors.

The moors were empty, the track similarly so, stretching out for miles forwards and back. In the light of a summer's mid-afternoon, it was possible to simply bask and forget everything that troubled her: her guard eventually turning into an appreciation of nature.

Her guard, however, quickly returned, when a barely audible groan drifted from the trees behind her. Within half a second she was on her feet and staring intently to where she believed the sound had come from. The trees themselves were sparse enough to let in the light, but dense enough that she could not see much further than a few dozen metres in any single direction. She considered waking Applejack, but reckoned she could take on the small number of opponents who could possibly have snuck up on them.

"Come out," she said, not yelling to keep the still passed out Applejack asleep, "don't make me uproot the entire forest to find you."

A glimpse of white wrenched her gaze a few metres to the left. What appeared to be a hand held to the side of a grey tree, which quickly revealed an arm, then a torso, then a full body. It was a Fusilier, clad in full armour, with a rifle slung along their shoulder. However, the armoured plate on their abdomen had been pierced by something on the left side, leaving the thermal body glove and gel layer beneath vulnerable to attack. Sure enough, a large gash had been torn though the relatively flimsy material, and the Fusilier's flesh itself. They clutched to the wound as best they could with their right hand, whilst their left was held up in an attempt at surrender.

"Friend," the wounded Fusilier said, "you're not infected. Or, at least, you don't seem to be."

Penumbra relaxed. "No," she said, "and you don't seem to be either."

The wounded Fusilier tapped their helmet with their free hand, "most of my platoon was compromised, but my squad and I were on patrol duty in full armour, so we were spared the infection." They sighed. "Though we weren't protected from the infected, as you can see."

They came closer, allowing Penumbra a view at their wounds, which cut surprisingly deep. A chunk of flesh about the size of their fist had been ripped out, with the torn blood vessels having been cauterised with something; Penumbra thought she caught a glimpse of some of their internal organs, though hoped that she was just imagining that.

"I'm pretty banged up," they said, "but my aim's still good."

They slung the rifle off of their shoulder, giving Penumbra a mock up of aiming with only one hand. Satisfied she knew what they meant, the wounded Fusilier slung their rifle again. "You headed to Cemaes too?"

"Yeah," she said, "apparently it's the only spot left."

The wounded Fusilier nodded. "I figured as much. It's one of the only places transport ships can land on the continent. I imagined everywhere else would've been overrun by now."

Penumbra nodded gravely. "I tried contacting them, but the communicator I've got is only short range. Don't know why it didn't pick you up though."

The wounded Fusilier laughed. "I've been wandering a while, plus I had to ditch most of my equipment when I ran: I only had a short range comm myself and the battery's dead. So I've been wandering in the general direction of Cemaes for a while. How's your friend doing?"

They pointed to Applejack, who appeared to be beginning to stir. Slowly, her eyes opened and she sat upright, though, from the blank expression on them, she either couldn't properly see, or was too groggy to fully understand.

"She's just tired," Penumbra said, "we've been walking a while now."

The wounded Fusilier chuckled. "I don't blame her. By the looks of your feet, you've come a hell of a long way.” They pointed to her claws, which had been visibly worn down, recently too by their colouration and thin coating of greyish dust. "I reckon you're from Atlas way, aren't you? Yeah, you're from the Gene Labs, I reckon."

"And how do you know that?"

"Well it looks to me like you and your friend are the same species. Though, you appear to be more...evolved, yeah, that's the right word," they paused for a moment, before nodding to themself and coming closer, "anyway, your friend's nearly up. Time to get going, the sooner we get to Cemaes, the better."

As the wounded Fusilier marched off up the road, Penumbra first wondered how they knew where they were going, then how she would explain everything to Applejack. She hauled the farmpony to her hooves, then began her overly long-winded explanation, practically dragging Applejack behind her.

The ship breaking yard came into view the moment they crested the hill. Compared to the pleasant greenery of the moors, it was like a horrific, burned stain. There was no greenery, or any sort of plants to speak of, just cracked brown stone and tides of dust. The broken down carcasses or skeletons of immense starships littered the ground like broken egg shells, their key components sorted and piled around them. Several small structures dotted the yard, most little more than break posts for the workers, with several broken down, recently damaged.

In the distance, sat on a large hill, loomed a landing platform, far bigger than any structure Penumbra had ever seen up close. However, from what she had read and from what the wounded Fusilier had told her, it was tiny. On it stood only one ship, anchored in place by enormous metal arms, a frigate class if she wasn't mistaken. A well beaten track led up to it, choked up to the first guard post - with its closed boom barrier - with vehicles, then almost entirely empty save for debris and the odd body. The track passed through the skeleton of a corvette, with most of its armour plating removed, save a small canopy acting as a roof.

To the east, beyond the enormous open field of ship skeletons, a wall of grey, black and purple cloud stood menacingly. Arcs of lightning tens of miles in length lit up along its edge, with the cracks of thunder still faintly audible so far away. Penumbra wouldn't have been worried, if it were not for the low rumble of the storm slowly, but surely, coming closer.

"Come on," the wounded Fusilier said, "there's a storm coming, we wanna get to the pad before it hits."

Without need for verbal agreement, the two ponies followed, the wounded Fusilier scanning back and forth with their rifle as the group moved forwards. As they quickly found out, by the shrivelled and battered corpses that lined the road and filled the guard post, there was little need to be on guard. The soldiers defending the facility had at the very least made a fighting withdrawal, keeping the gates closed and apparently bombing the guard house as they did so.

The road beyond the barrier was marked with a trail of dark blue blood, which started off thick but gradually trailed off, until it stopped entirely. The wounded Fusilier stopped at the edge of the trail, before turning and taking a look over the edge of the road, where it tapered off into a drainage ditch. Sure enough, covered partially with dust, was the body of a fully armoured Fusilier, dark blue blood stains covering their still visible right arm. They were curled up in a fetal position, visibly concealing the obvious larger wounds that lay near their abdomen and thorax, but most definitely dead. "Well," the wounded Fusilier mumbled, "at least they only got one."

The space between the track and the cliff edge gradually narrowed, to the point where Penumbra suddenly and loudly exclaimed, "woah! A cliff?" To which both Applejack and the wounded Fusilier both nodded sagely then advised her to move away from.

"Ah know mah cliffs, Pen," Applejack said, regarding the cliff edge with a look of scorn, "and that cliff ain't gonna see tomorrah."

Sure enough, the cliff was already beginning to crumble, with small chunks of the track having been weathered away. Penumbra stepped on a lump of dirt that gave way and tumbled the half mile or so down about seven times before they reached the next guard post, where the space between cliff and track opened out a lot more and the track became more solid.

Just like the last post, the boom gate was closed, though the guard post itself was in far better condition. The inside, however, was a disaster, like a grenade had gone off inside - in hindsight, it probably had. Two Fusiliers and about a dozen infected had been scattered around the post, with the Fusiliers coming off relatively lightly by only losing a few limbs. Both the soldiers were, obviously, very dead, with the concrete ground stained blue with blood. The infected, meanwhile, were more gaseous than dead, with only a badly battered torso or limb remaining intact for each. The group quickly evacuated, though not before the wounded Fusilier grabbed themself another communicator from the surviving rack.

The area beyond the guard post opened out into a large plateau, with a series of ramps cut into the rock of a cliff leading down to the next area. Penumbra stopped to take a look at their target, with the group sitting behind her as she did so. The distant cracks of thunder and ominous roar of the storm had grown louder, obscuring whatever sounds may have been occurring beyond the corvette, but she could still see the pad well enough to discern how to get to it. The track terminated before a series of buildings, possibly control centres or the like, which seemed to lead onto the pad, there they would have to find a way onto the frigate, which didn't appear to be connected to the ground beyond the metal arms that held it aloft.

"Hmm," the wounded Fusilier mused behind her, "communicator's down."

Penumbra turned. "Huh?"

They held out the little pad. "I grabbed a communicator from the last guard post. It's batteries are full and it's definitely working but I'm not getting signals from anywhere, just a massive blob of interference."

"Could be the storm," Penumbra suggested, not quite sure what kind of storm could blot out all signals on a communicator.

The wounded Fusilier shrugged with their one available arm. "Probably. I can't raise the frigate from here though, let's just hope they don't leave without us."

Penumbra gave a snort. "Yeah, let's hope not. We best get moving."

She rose and followed the winding path down, with Applejack and the wounded Fusilier scrambling to follow, the Fusilier managing to lift themself with only their legs, which created an interesting and uncomfortable looking scene to any onlookers. The winding path, then the track towards the corvette skeleton, was empty save the odd dead shrub or rock.

The next guard post was in bad shape: burnt out, with one of the corners collapsed in and filled with bodies, Fusilier and otherwise. Most of the infected were in pieces, though most didn't appear to have been exploded, rather having putrefied and simply fallen apart over the presumably short course of their death. The Fusiliers, seven of them in all, were far less worse for wear: most only had a number of wounds on their abdomens and were otherwise in one piece.

The wounded Fusilier stepped into the guard post through the collapsed corner, scanning around with their rifle, looking for something. They paused for a moment next to a console, before reaching down to the Fusilier body below it and grabbing its arm, which made a noise of dislocating.

"What is it?" Penumbra asked.

The wounded Fusilier stared at the arm intently, before letting it go and turning back. "Nothing," they said, "thought there was something in here."

They began to make their way out, before their leg became stuck on something. Penumbra had turned to view the storm, which was proceeding surprisingly quickly considering the almost complete lack of wind, attempting to work out how long it would be before they were in the middle of it. Applejack, meanwhile, was sat on the dusty ground, taking in the view of the industry beyond the cliff, attempting to comprehend it's size in comparison to Equestria's.

The wounded Fusilier gave their leg a shake, which seemed to dislodge whatever it was stuck on. They paused for a moment, contemplating an idea, before shaking their head at how nonsensical it was. They didn't take more than another step before their leg became lodged again, this time by a grey, fleshy fist. "There's a live one!" They shouted, before opening fire wildly in the direction of the hand's arm. The fist let go, sinking back into the sea of bodies, before another dozen rose up all around the room. The wounded Fusilier didn't take a second longer to decide what to do, practically leaping from the room in one go, before turning back and firing indiscriminately into it.

"What's going on?" Penumbra shouted, readying her magic.

The wounded Fusilier continued firing, slowly shuffling backwards. "They're not all dead, we gotta move."

Penumbra nodded, lifting Applejack with a magical aura. The farmpony only took half a second to realise what was happening, and was beginning to run towards the corvette, Penumbra close behind. At their running pace, which even Penumbra was surprised by, they were only a minute or two from the corvette's outer edge, which would mark the start of the home stretch, as it were.

A pair of loose shots caused Penumbra to turn around, then she saw the wounded Fusilier, on the ground, pushing away as fast as their right leg could go. Penumbra's enhanced vision noticed a large gash on their left leg - one of the arms must have caught them on the way out of the guard post, and they hadn't noticed. Penumbra turned 180 and sprinted back to them, firing off bolts of magic into the gradually enlarging crowd of infected. Every shot of their proton rifle, and every bolt of magic, managed to take out three or four infected - on closer inspection, the infecteds' skin had begun to calcify, greatly reducing the penetrative power of their weapons.

The wounded Fusilier turned their head up to view Penumbra, who was still some distance away. "Back up," they yelled, still firing blindly into the crowd, "head to the corvette, get off this damn planet."

Penumbra began to slow. "Turn back," the wounded Fusilier yelled again, "there'll be troops at the landing pad, get to them!"

They threw their rifle into the crowd, creating a momentary blockage as the infected wildly slashed out - thinking it was something alive. "Get going," the wounded Fusilier shouted again, before pulling a grenade from their belt. Penumbra began to walk back, though she still refused to take her eyes off the scene - that or her eyes were stuck - as the wounded Fusilier primed the grenade and held it out, a foot or so from their face. Time seemed to slow as the fuse ticked down, Penumbra's ears hanging on every click - part of her futilely praying that the grenade wouldn't detonate.

Sure enough, after five seconds - five successive ticks - the grenade detonated, releasing its volatile plasma in an immense burst of light and heat. The energy of the blast blinded Penumbra for a moment and when her vision returned nothing of the wounded Fusilier, or half of the infected assaulting them, remained. The rest of the infected had been rendered in various states of annihilation, scattered around a two metre radius scorched circle on the ground. Penumbra did not even have to check the infected were dead.

The two ponies, now bereft of their short term companion, marched grimly forwards. The storm, its black and purple clouds swirling in powerful winds, was within a dozen miles of them, so much so that the dust at their feet was beginning to kick up. Undeterred, they pushed ahead, passing under the skeleton of the corvette, surrounded by the small amounts of machinery that were too heavy to transport away. There were a few infected bodies, which Penumbra would tear apart with her magic as she passed them, with Applejack throwing the odd flesh-melting gaze.

Eventually, they reached the path up to the landing pad's command centre, which was little more than a dirt track then a climb up a large staircase. The path was wide enough for them to stand two abreast, both scanning back and forth to look for either infected or survivors.

The door to the command centre was closed, though, curiously, not locked. Penumbra turned the handle, then stepped back and pushed the door open with her magic, preempting the ambush of an infected.

Sure enough, they were ambushed, but not by who they expected.

"Freeze!"

A pair of Fusiliers were crouched behind a crate, their rifles drawing beads on the door. Fortunately for the two ponies (or, more likely, the Fusiliers) they did not fire, hesitating just long enough for Penumbra to get a word in.

"We're friendly," she said, "I'm Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra, this is Applejack, we're trying to get off planet."

The Fusiliers stared in silence for a moment, before one rose up. "That's fortunate for you," they said, lowering their rifle, "we were just about to head to the platform."

Their fellow rose as well, recognising safety. "There's infected between here and the ship," they said, "platoon or so of Fusiliers too. Come on, let's get going."

As they moved, Penumbra pulled out her IntraSAT, she tried a few buttons with her magic, before falling upon a communication line, "hello," she said, tentatively, "this is Penumbra, does anybody read?"

There was a pause of a second, before a voice crackled over - the interference of the storm was having less of an effect the closer they got to the ship - "this is Captain Dawes, of the Vigilance IX, I read you, over."

"Captain." Penumbra sighed with relief. "We need you to hold your take off, there's soldiers still down here."

Another pause, "I'm afraid I can't, Penumbra," the Captain said, "launch control is offline, my countdown has no abort. Get to the pad and I'll have dropships bring you all aboard. Dawes, out."

The sound of gunfire up ahead made the group break out into a sprint. They had come across what appeared to be some sort of engineering room, though it had been almost completely emptied save the metal grate walkways that crisscrossed the roof. On one end, a squad of Fusiliers held what appeared to be the door to the next room; on their end, three Fusiliers were holding out against a few individual infected; in the centre of the room, however, was a large, shambling swarm. Though, apparently, only a few individuals seemed to know where to go: the ones closest to the squad at the other side, who charged at them wildly; their fellows simply seemed to follow the leader, until they too were close enough to suicidally charge the gunline.

One of the three Fusiliers closest, a Sergeant by their green shoulder cape, turned their head to the group. "Any of you brought heavy weapons?"

"I've still got a grenade left," one of the Fusiliers said, taking it from their belt and tossing it to the waiting Sergeant, who primed it and lobbed it into the crowd, which quickly halved the number of infected in the room.

"What about you?" The Sergeant pointed to Penumbra, "you look tough, mind helping us out."

Penumbra nodded, lighting her horn and creating a corona of magic all around it. She stepped into the room, sending forwards a wave of magic along the ground, which tore at the concrete and ripped apart most of the infecteds' legs. When the remaining infected turned, sensing her magic, she created a magical storm of bolts, surgically eviscerating the survivors of her previous attack.

The Sergeant stared at her, then looked back and forth between the pile of corpses and Penumbra. "Damn," they said, "I'm impressed."
Penumbra nodded, half grinning, before the group pushed on, pulling the remaining Fusiliers along with them. There was another Sergeant with the squad defending the opposing door, along with a Leftenant, who all fell behind regardless of rank.

"I'll admit," the Leftenant said, "I'm not completely sure who you are, but I trust you."

"Thanks," Penumbra replied, with just enough sarcasm to drive the Leftenant to continue speaking.

"You're not an Imperial," the Leftenant continued, "but I know when someone's on our side, the good side, that is. I reckon you're important somehow, you certainly look it."

"I'm not sure I follow."
The Leftenant chortled, "look at you, you're the tallest one here, massive wings and a horn, got powers I've never seen before and you're purple." They laughed again. "You're definitely important somehow. All us grunts look and sound the same, you're the only different one. You and your friend over there."

Come to think of it, what they were saying was exactly correct. Penumbra, still not wholly used to her new appearance, rarely considered herself particularly different looking to the ponies of Equestria. In reality, she was like a wholly different species - or some terrifying occult fiction novel's rendition of some dark god. She also realised she'd read far too much from the fiction section in her library and on the Hand of Fate.

She didn't get the chance to continue the conversation, as they entered what one of the Sergeant's mentioned was the final room before the landing pad. The room contained thirty seven Fusiliers, of various ranks, with an orange caped Commander leading from their vantage point in a control box of some kind, overlooking the relatively empty room. There were several infected filling the door to the landing pad, though they blocked her view further on. Two of the Fusiliers, both in cover behind makeshift barricades, fired pulse guns, which cracked like thunder every time they fired. From their vantage point, the Commander turned and saw the new arrivals, before running down to them, a pair of Sergeants in tow.

"You Penumbra?" They asked, yelling over the roaring gunfire.

Penumbra nodded, unsure as to whether her voice would carry or not. Nevertheless, the Commander seemed satisfied and turned to one of the Sergeants. "Get everyone ready," they yelled, the Sergeant nodding and running between the various pieces of cover to inform the Fusiliers of something. "We're pushing to the pad," the Commander yelled, "but we need to secure the planetary gun up top. Can you help out our guys?"

Penumbra nodded again, which again satisfied the Commander. They turned away and ducked behind a crate, about three metres from the closest infected. The Sergeant they had sent off gave a thumbs up, to which the Commander nodded and rolled a grenade into the front rank of infected. The infected blocking the door were blown apart, revealing the pad which held about two hundred infected, all in various states of calcification.

A squad of Fusiliers ran through the breach, creating an expanding semicircle of clear territory. Another squad soon followed, along with one of the pulse guns, which tore through tens of infected at a time. Eventually, another squad entered, Penumbra following with them, before breaking off left and up a metal grate staircase towards the top of the command centre, where a massive gun emplacement stood.

There was a single, large room before the emplacement, with only a pair of dead infected and a staircase leading further up. The Fusiliers, for good measure, fired several rounds into the corpses, before proceeding ahead. A pair of Fusiliers headed up the front of the squad, with Penumbra close behind. At the top of the staircase, one of the Fusiliers was grabbed on the shoulder and yanked left, with his comrade turning and opening fire. The infected collapsed backwards, its skin, bone white, shattered on the ground.

One of the Fusiliers, a Leftenant, climbed up the ladder on the side of the emplacement and into an open cockpit. They pressed a few buttons and pulled a few levers, with Penumbra ignoring them in favour of viewing the immense storm, that was barely two miles from the platform. After about a minute, the emplacement made a noise of powering down, with its previously red spine slowly fading to black.

"Alright," the Leftenant said, "should be good, let's get to the pad."

The Fusilier platoon had cleared the pad relatively quickly and had formed up around a pair of large open areas, enough space for dropships to land. From the IntraSAT came the voice of Captain Dawes, "I see the pad's clear, I've got transports inbound."

Four dropships emerged from one end of the frigate's hangars, passing overhead and landing one at a time. Most of the platoon loaded onto the first pair to land, which left almost as soon as they arrived. The second wave was more unlucky, as the giant storm had reached the edge of the platform.

The edge of the metal rectangle began to glow red, and the wind picked up massively, badly buffeting the dropships. "Get inside," a Fusilier inside one of the two ships yelled out, "we have to go, now!"

Applejack and a squad of Fusiliers jumped aboard, with Penumbra being blown backwards before she could. Regardless, the dropship lifted off, only to be slowly carried away by the wind, until, with a splutter of its engines, it simply dropped out of the sky.

Penumbra could have used her magic, if she had just noticed a second earlier she could have. Instead, she just let the ship fall, down the chasm that led to the frigate. She just let them crash and burn.
Suddenly, she was on a dropship. At least, she thought she was, something wet had filled her eyes, blocking her vision like a smoke screen. From what little she could hear - with her ears blocked both by the thunderous rumble of the storm and some low, choking sounds from close by - there were Fusiliers with her, taking her to the frigate.

"It's plasma," one of them yelled, though the top of their voice was like a whisper, "the storm isn't natural."

At least, that's what Penumbra thought they said.

They were within the safety of the frigate's hull within a minute, with Captain Dawes giving some message over the tannoy, which Penumbra's ears seemed to refuse to allow her to hear. The hangar doors closed, sealing off Applejack's open grave as the storm which had so cruelly snatched her blanketed the site in darkness.

The frigate rumbled, before Penumbra felt it rise beneath her, followed by a slight turn, then a thunderous clap as the frigate's main propulsion drives engaged, sending it through the planet's atmosphere within seconds. Had Penumbra been on the observation deck, she would have clearly seen the ominous silhouettes of Truth class light cruisers: their plasma lances on full beam, lined up perfectly all along the surface, masked partially by cloud, half of the world behind them burned to ash.

"Bring her to me, Captain."

XV. Reconstitution

“Here I was beholden, for the first time, to the dichotomy of my father. He was hatred and love; kindness and cruelty; good and evil. He was the darkness that shrouded us, kept us hidden from our foes; and the light that illuminated our path, forwards. He said unto me: ‘Kyhron, thou must sit. Do thee understand now why I rule my Empire? I rule through terror and love. Thou must understand this if thee want to rule thyself. Make them fear thee, but make them love thee just as much - then thy rule shall be forever.”

- Lessons from my Father by Prince Kyhron -

"You let her die! It's your fault she's dead." Penumbra's rage could be felt all around the vessel, her voice shaking the very hull. When she had arrived on the Sin of Damnation, she had been utterly distraught, though her tears had run out. Upon seeing Rarity, with the corrupted Luna with her, something had unlocked inside of her. Something that had been caged her whole life broke free and it had shook reality.

"It was necessary," Nicholas replied, uncaring. No hint of emotion was present in his voice and his inner thoughts were impossible to read. Chrysalis, however, who Penumbra could feel just outside of the room, seemed disgustingly pleased, with the corrupted alicorn promising to make her pay in blood for her insolence.

"Necessary?" Penumbra asked, before her voice rose and an even greater rage became audible, "necessary? Her death was necessary? No, her death was anything but necessary. Though." Her frown became a twisted smirk - something important snapping within her mind - and something lightened behind her eyes. "Yours will be." She laughed, less one of joy and more of murderous intent. "Good too."

Without a second thought, she rammed her sword - infused with magic she could previously have only dreamed of wielding - straight through the centre of his chest, where she assumed his heart to be. For a brief moment, he seemed almost stunned, before Penumbra removed the weapon and struck the side of his neck with it, causing the comparatively weak chitinous skin to shatter and give way.

The crown laden head of Emperor Nicholas toppled to the floor, before it and the rest of his body crumbled to dust, leaving only his clothing and crown behind. His cape and robe crumpled neatly, the Obsidian Crown resting atop it. As Penumbra looked at it, almost surprised by how easily she had killed Nicholas, she noticed it appeared far smaller than it had on Nicholas, almost a perfect fit for her head.

Though, she made no time for its temptation, instead, she revelled in the glory of defeating Emperor Nicholas. Even Celestia when she had the Elements of Harmony had been terrified of him, but she, Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra, had killed him in just two strokes!

Starswirl the Bearded would tremble at her intellect; Queen Chrysalis at her cunning; Princess Celestia at her magical power; the Elements of Harmony would be hers and she would remake them anew, use them to rebirth Equestria in her image. Her sword, the bane of Emperor Nicholas - she would name it Kingbreaker - would cut the Elements into new shapes. Her friends, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Applejack, they would be dead no longer. She alone would be the master of the universe.

She pulled open the door at the end of the room with her magic, where Chrysalis, Luna and Rarity would be waiting for her. All three looked on her in horror, tears welled in Rarity's eyes, Luna guarded her with her body and Chrysalis seemed to be prepared to fight.

"Go," the Changeling Queen said, "get as many of my children as you can off the ship, I'll try and hold her."

Penumbra laughed. "What could you possibly hope to do against me? This sword." She levitated Kingbreaker - yes, that would be an excellent name, she thought - the blade's edge glowing stronger than before, between her and the Changeling. "This sword felled Emperor Nicholas. You revered him, worshipped him, even, now you shall submit to me. Or." A wicked smile again broke out on her face - her facial muscles acting on their own. "You shall die as he did."

"Go," Chrysalis yelled, to which Luna and Rarity ran through the darkness, leaving the two alone. "I may not have his power," Chrysalis admitted, "I may not have your power. But, I have something you don't, and that is my soul."

Penumbra laughed coldly. "Is that so? Well, soon I shall tear it from your body." Kingbreaker glowed even stronger, though even it was not enough to fully illuminate the hall beyond a few metres.

Chrysalis looked down at the ground. "You shall. But, even if I only keep you occupied for a second, I can perhaps save another life, that otherwise would have been lost."

Suddenly, a projection emerged from the Changeling Queen's body. It was her, no doubt, though larger and slightly transparent, with slit pupils and longer fangs and claws. It stood just slightly taller than Penumbra, but couldn't possibly have borne more power - it was just some cheap party trick anyway.

Penumbra chortled, "pah," she spat, "nice trick, I'm sure the children - or whatever you creatures have in place of them - would love it, if you had lived to show it to them, that is."

She lifted Kingbreaker into the air, and swung it down towards the Changeling Queen's head, laughing in triumph as she did so.

Her triumph, however, was premature.

The projection, its previously transparent body having taken on a much more opaque and real looking lustre, held her sword with its hoof. Penumbra pushed harder, but the projection refused to budge, holding back the weapon which had killed Emperor Nicholas with nothing more than its body.

"This is my Shade," Chrysalis - the real one - said, "an apparition that can interact with the mortal world, constructed from my mind. Like a dream, only it can touch you."

The Shade began to push back the sword, causing Penumbra to realise that this was no execution, but a battle.

"If that is your dream," Penumbra said, pulling her sword back from the Shade's grip, "then I am your nightmare."

She struck out again with Kingbreaker, this time in an arc from Chrysalis' bottom right side, sweeping up. The Shade blocked with a leg, to which Penumbra pulled back the sword and allowed the Shade to lose its guard, only to sweep around from the upper left. To her annoyance, the Shade again blocked, though it had thrown off its stance to do so. Seizing the opportunity, Penumbra struck out with magic, blasting both Chrysalis and the Shade back, sending them crashing through a wall and into a large, empty storage room.

Penumbra stepped through the gap her attack had left, intending to finish off the Changeling, only to stop as her opponent rose, albeit shakily, to her hooves. "I must admit," she said, still smiling, "you are tougher than you look. Most other opponents would have either died on that wall or been too weak to stand." She laughed. "In honour of your worthiness as an opponent, I'll kill you somewhat quickly."

She threw herself forwards, sword aimed at Chrysalis' heart, only for the Changeling to blast herself sideways with her wings, her Shade striking out against Penumbra as she passed. Unfortunately for Chrysalis, that only served to both anger and stop Penumbra, who turned and launched a flurry of quick sword attacks, thrusting at such a speed her sword seemed translucent or swiping in thin arcs, trying to catch Chrysalis off guard. Only the incredible precision and speed of the Shade kept the Changeling Queen alive, though it was unable to deflect all of the raging torrent, leaving Chrysalis with a multitude of small stab wounds.

As green haemolymph poured from her wounds, Chrysalis' Shade struck out, replying to Penumbra's attacks with its own flurry of punches. "Haha!" Penumbra deflected each blow as if she could see them coming before they were launched. "Your attacks are useless! Even if I do not attack again, you will cave to exhaustion soon."

Sure enough, Chrysalis' Shade became slower, with the actual bleeding form of the Changeling Queen sagging slightly, the pool of green ichor around her feet an indication her life was fading. Eventually, the flurry of blows ceased entirely, the Shade retreating into a guard stance in front of its owner, whose legs had begun to shake.

Penumbra cgave a demented chuckle. "Look at you," she gloated, "already dying. I had barely even begun to fight." She smiled, glassy eyed, as she brought Kingbreaker close. "To think, this sword killed Emperor Nicholas. It is almost an insult to let it kill you. But, then again, it's going to be killing a lot more than just you today. We shall start here, with you, then end the plague that is your species for good, all with the edge of this blade."

She brought it up high, just as Chrysalis' Shade faded away, the Changeling Queen finally too weak to fight. With a roaring laughter, this one certain of triumph, she brought it down upon Chrysalis' head, which split cleanly in two. The brainless Changeling slumped to the floor, ichor leaking from her immense wound, her limbs stiffening. Penumbra turned and left through the hole she had made, seeking out the hangar, leaving the former Queen Chrysalis' body behind.

The corridors that led to the hangar were all empty: dark and empty. They had done a good job evacuating and Penumbra cursed Chrysalis for wasting valuable time. Though, exactly as she had predicted, when she arrived in the hangar she came across a host of Changelings, being loaded onto whatever transport could be found by Luna, Rarity and various Changeling morphs, who looked like smaller versions of Chrysalis.

Luna noticed her entrance first, a look of horror, then resigned sadness crossing her face. "Get everyone you can out," Penumbra heard her say to one of the morphs, "then get out yourself."

"What about you?" The morph said, sounding like a younger Chrysalis.

Luna sighed. "I shall buy you as much time as I can. Go, Formia, you and your sisters must survive. Rarity, we shall face her together."

The two ponies stepped away from the evacuation and made their way over to her. Rarity levitated a pistol in front of her, causing Penumbra to almost laugh at how pitiful the attempt was. Luna, meanwhile, held a pair of longswords in her magic, as well as her talons. Luna was the greater threat, by far, so Penumbra decided on her first.

Penumbra held out Kingbreaker, dripping with ichor, as Luna and Rarity halted, fifteen metres between them. "This sword," she said, "has tasted the blood of the Emperor and one of his champions." She laughed. "Let us make that three champions."

Luna growled, dropping into a battle stance. "Your evil ends here, Penumbra."

Penumbra chuckled. "Oh my." She placed a clawed foot to her breast. "Quite the presumptive one, aren't you? Evil? Far from it, I will save the universe, I will bring back our beloved Equestria. And ends? No, my time is only just beginning."

Rarity levelled her pistol. "Emperor forgive you."

Penumbra's laugh seemed to shake the vessel. "Oh," she said, a few tears coming from her eyes, "yes." Her laugh almost caused her to choke. "'Emperor forgive me', listen to yourself. Oh dear, like a little child.” She wiped her eyes clean and they flashed bright red. "A little child, who will never grow up."

Without warning, she launched herself at Luna, who deflected Kingbreaker with a cross-shaped guard and leapt aside. The two corrupted alicorns glared, one with a slowly rising expression of madness and the other with a grim determination.

"Once you are dead," Penumbra said, bloodlust evident in her voice, her maddened reason subsuming all else, "there will be none to stop me. One by one I shall snuff out the worlds of life, until only I remain."

She launched herself at Luna again, who caught her in another guard and threw her back. "And then?" She questioned, "you want to save the universe by killing everyone in it? Rebuild Equestria by killing all of its people?"

Penumbra struck again, though this time she kept herself firmly grounded. Her attacks came in a flurry, just as they had against Chrysalis, though each blow landed harder, energy came crackling from Kingbreaker's edge, drawn from her body. Luna, much to her credit, held off each blow, even saving enough strength to throw Penumbra back again.

Penumbra's mouth seemed stuck in a maddened grin, her eyes glowing red, though there was no conscious awareness behind them. "When I am all that remains," she said, seemingly barely able to stop herself slamming into Luna again, "I shall remake everything. The universe, all of the universes, will be mine to do with as I wish."

She attacked again, this time focusing Luna's left flank. Her attacks again came with tremendous speed and power, but localised on one spot, causing Luna's guard to slowly wear down, until it collapsed entirely, with Luna's swords shattering before Kingbreaker - their fragments clattering to the floor. Fortunately for the corrupted alicorn, she was not limited to one means of defence and struck out with her magic, throwing Penumbra back once again.

"I shall remake everything," Penumbra said, "in my image. I shall be a goddess."

She flew up, striking down at Luna, using the power of gravity to aid her attack. Luna's body was, luckily, flexible, and able to contort so she could again face Penumbra head on, guarding against her strike and placing her ideally to, once again, repel her.

"All that I must do is kill," Penumbra - or whatever was no dragging her body about like a puppet - said, a little too happily, "kill and kill until I can kill no more."

She dashed forwards, aiming squarely for Luna's centre of mass, just as she had done Chrysalis. When the corrupted alicorn inevitably dodged, she sent a wall of magic directly into her head, knocking her backwards. Penumbra stabbed her sword into the ground and spun about it, changing her trajectory until she was directly facing Luna, who lay concussed on the ground.

"And I shall enjoy every second of it, starting with you!"

She dashed forwards again, Kingbreaker practically ablaze with energy, lightning arcing off of its blade. Luna groaned on the ground, there was no way she could defend herself. This would be even easier than Chrysalis, and she hadn't even conceded a hit!

She was stopped in her tracks by a sudden sting, like that of a small wasp. Followed by another, then another. She quickly found their source: Rarity's pistol. To give the unicorn credit, she knew full well her weapon was useless, yet used it anyway, it did little more than singe Penumbra's coat. She kept firing and Penumbra broke out into raucous laughter, which to her ears sounded natural and triumphant, but to others was a guttural shriek.

"No," she said, voice beginning to change in her ears, from her own to something mutated, something somehow wrong, "we'll start with you."

She launched forwards, Kingbreaker arcing up across Rarity's torso. The unicorn's jaw quivered for a moment, before her two halves separated, falling to the ground with a thud. The unicorn's final expression was not one of shock, or even horror, rather of a grim, determined acceptance, like Luna's had been before their fight had begun. She had died to save her allies time, even if only a few seconds, and it had been enough.

Penumbra first viewed the fleeing Changelings, who were down to only the Chrysalis-like morphs and a handful of drones, who were boarding a dropship with engines already running. She then turned, to view the two halves of Rarity's body, only to force her eyes away.

Her eyes, however, refused to move.

She choked on a sob; as she lifted Kingbreaker on high and laughed in triumph.

A sudden pain tightened her whole body and she froze; as she walked slowly towards Luna's groaning form.

The weight of her actions suddenly hit her; as she turned Kingbreaker's blade down towards Luna's heart.

She cried out in grief; as the sword flew down.

She begged for forgiveness from the Emperor; as the sword struck Luna's heart.

"What could have been," a voice thundered all around her, an unmistakable voice, "what might yet be."

"Please," Penumbra, partially separated from her body, begged, "forgive me. Please, forgive me."

"Forgiveness is something that must be earned."

Penumbra sobbed, "I beg of you," her voice trembled with every syllable, "spare me this!"

Her surroundings faded away to darkness, with her body falling away entirely, replaced by an unanchored spirit. She fell backwards onto the cold, hard ground, though it was stone rather than metal, stretching out for miles behind her. She dared not turn around, for she knew what was behind her.

"My mercy," the voice said, "is earned. Face me."

Penumbra trembled as she slowly turned, coming face to face with Emperor Nicholas once again. Rather, this was not Emperor Nicholas, because here, in the world that fed off of Penumbra's fear, he was far more than mortal, far more than natural.

Before her was his true form.

"Your betrayal," Nicholas, The Everlasting, body the size of a mountain, bellowed, "is beyond any I have ever experienced." Only his head, arms, shoulders and wings were visible, as he held himself aloft with nothing more than will. His chitinous flesh was dark purple, far removed from its original reddish-brown, and his armour bone white, with his wings purple and translucent, like ghostly wisps, folded onto his back. "I have killed for far less," he said, voice so loud as to almost deafen her, "but I know your mind, Penumbra. I know your soul. The nature within you that was unleashed today can be contained and properly harnessed. Besides, you have no hope of ever killing me."

He brought forth Kingbreaker, which still glowed with energy, before melting it into a puddle right in front of her, several droplets striking her flesh and burning her skin. "I am the Shatterer of Stars. I have razed a billion worlds and ended countless species. I have consumed all hope. The death of your friends was no accident, they had been planned since the very beginning. I have waited millennia for this, studied every aspect of this future that is to come. If you think their deaths mattered, you would be correct. But, you would be wrong if you think they were avoidable, or that I would risk jeopardising everything to save them. I burned your world to ash, your species matters not to me."

Penumbra did not even have the energy left to sob, the presence of the Everlasting alone seemed to slowly drain her of her life. All she could manage was a small nod, but it sufficed.

"I am cruelty," the Everlasting said, "but I am kindness also. I have rebuilt your friend Rainbow Dash."

Hearing her name made Penumbra's life seem to return slightly. "But what about Luna, Rarity or...?" Was all she could manage before it began to seep out again.

The Everlasting bellowed out a laugh, which nearly knocked Penumbra backwards.

"Did you really think I would let you do what you just did in the real world? You have much to learn, child. The moment my soul left the mortal world, yours followed."

With those final worlds, everything went white.

When Penumbra awoke she was greeted by a mass of Changelings, with their Queen looming over her. Her eyes felt raw, as did much of her face, no doubt a result of a long period of sobbing. Truth be told, she had no real idea where she was, though she hoped it was not one of Nicholas' illusions again.

"Try and stand," Chrysalis said, grabbing her by the left foreleg, with another Changeling grabbing her right, "we can't do all of the work here."

She slowly regained her footing, enough that she could stand without assistance, though her legs wobbled a little. Chrysalis and the other Changeling - a similar morph to her - let go, taking a step back to give her room to breathe. The corrupted alicorn took in air like a vacuum, enough for the edges of her legs to begin to feel fuzzy.

"Formia," Chrysalis said to the other Changeling who had helped Penumbra up, "take Penumbra to the hangar, there is a transport waiting to take her to Cradle. Accompany her to the surface, I must speak to our master."

The Changeling morph nodded and beckoned for Penumbra to follow. The wall of Changelings around them parted, leaving an open and partially lit corridor that led straight to the hangar. At first, Formia seemed to mostly ignore her, until she tilted her head and began what seemed to be appraisal. After about a minute of this, she gave a satisfied nod to herself and began to speak, voice identical to how it was in the illusion, "we forgive you," she said, simply.

Penumbra felt something welling in her eyes, she knew full well what the Changeling meant. She also knew that they all knew, though some small part of her had been vainly clinging to the hope that they would not. "Thank you," she said, quietly, "I don't deserve it."

Formia laughed musically. "Emperor Nicholas believes you do, as does Queen Chrysalis. If they say you deserve forgiveness, then you do."

Penumbra couldn't quite describe how glad she was to hear that, but let the feeling wash over her and cleanse her mind and soul of all the doubt it had carried. The two walked in silence for a moment, before Penumbra felt happy enough to ask another question, "if you don't mind me asking, what are you? Well, not what are you, but, erm," she stuttered, though Formia seemed to know what she meant.

The Changeling laughed again. "I'm a Changeling Princess, a young Queen, if you will. Don't worry about your wording, either, most ponies I've met didn't take the verbal option, I'm honestly just glad you have."

Other ponies? Penumbra thought, she'd met other ponies? How many? Where?

Formia smiled at her. "I hadn't met any before the Exodus, then I met a few on New Horizons. Queen Chrysalis had tried to establish friendly relations and thought that sending me wouldn't cause the same hostility as sending herself, but, sadly, she was wrong. As for your other questions, there were about a hundred there." She chuckled. "Would've died if not for Imperial intervention. I owe my life to the Imperial Overwatch." She chuckled again. "As do about thirty other Changelings." She paused a moment, looking at her feet as she went. "I'm glad you're a kind one at heart," her voice was more hushed and serious now, "when Chrysalis told us about what she'd been through." Formia paused for a moment, shuddering slightly. "I'd been scared all ponies hated us. If it wasn't for Kyhron, we might all be dead."

They arrived in the hangar, where various uniformed Changelings buzzed about ships, following the instructions of various Imperial engineers. Some seemed more adept than others.

"Isk ti'k ta! Te eshna mas te," a Zelian yelled at a Changeling, who had somehow lodged their tool and half of their body into an engine port, whilst a pair of their fellows tried to pull them out.

Just across from the swearing Zelian, a group of thirty or so Changelings formed a semicircle around an Imperial officer, who had a holographic display of what appeared to be a tank rolling over flat terrain. Each of the Changelings was wearing a grey pilotka, whilst the officer was in a grey, epauletted uniform with a silver lanyard on their left shoulder, "whatever you do," she said, "don't charge a tank, unless you are certain its guns can't get you, or you're out of options. The moment you're in line of sight of their MGs, you're shredded. Better yet, don't fight tanks at all. If your mission goes haywire and you end up fighting a tank, call the AT troops, stick to infiltrating."

A Changeling almost identical in appearance to Formia stood near the dropship they were heading towards. Unlike Formia, she was wearing a full Imperial officer's uniform, cut exactly to her standard, with gold epaulettes and a peaked cap with a gold badge and gold hat braid. She held a datapad in one foot and was talking to a Fusilier standing at attention next to her.

"You'd think," she said, rather casually, "I'd be given numbers. He wants troops, how many? Won't say. He wants ships, how many? Won't say. I may be newly promoted but I'm not new to the job...Oh, Formia, hello." She passed the datapad to the Fusilier and held out her foot to shake. "Queen Chrysalis told me you'd be coming. And this is Penumbra." She pointed to the corrupted alicorn, who just nodded blankly. "Wonderful. Well, let's get going, don't want to waste time."

Penumbra was so awestruck at how well the Changelings had integrated she had to be hauled aboard by the Fusilier, who strapped her into her chair then returned to the other Princess' side, taking a seat themself. The Changelings weren't just working with the Empire, but they were becoming engineers, soldiers, even commanders. The rate of their assimilation was incredible and far in contrast to the ponies, who were apparently having to be stopped from murdering Changelings in cold blood by Imperial forces, and whose only presence in the military had been her and her closest friends.

The unidentified Changeling Princess laughed. "We Changelings are masters of adaptation," she said, whilst giving the pilot the nod to take off, "and, with the help of the Empire, we've adapted well to our new life. Several of our sisters have already begun hives on other worlds, with the assistance of Imperial forces." Her face suddenly lit up. "Oh, Formia, I should tell you about Mothia's new hive: apparently she managed to sweet talk an Imperial Commander into living on planet with her! It's really..." She paused a moment, looking at the Fusilier next to her. "I'll tell you the rest later. Anyways." She turned to Penumbra. "I'm Exa, Major Exa, of the Imperial Combined Arms Ground Forces Changeling Corps." She gave a mock salute. "We're only small, admittedly, but we'll grow with time."

"How many do you have?"

"Three hundred," she said, "three hundred trained servicedrones. Queen Chrysalis is already supplying us with new recruits, so we'll have much higher numbers in no time!" Exa seemed genuinely pleased, which, Penumbra supposed, she had every right to be. For a race that was so new, they were making ahead in leaps and bounds.

"We sure are!" The Changeling Major beamed. "I was thinking of asking mother to request Emperor Nicholas come and inspect the troops, maybe that would inspire more Changelings to join us."

Before she could continue further, the pilot came over the intercom, "we're one minute out."

The Fusilier next to her turned. "Sir, the general has ordered us back to the Sin of Damnation as soon as we're able."

Exa seemed almost disappointed for a moment. "Ah well," she said, smiling again, "it was nice meeting you, Penumbra."

When the dropship landed, Formia and Penumbra filed out quickly, with the Changeling Princess waving off her sister before continuing her escort. They entered what appeared to be a medical facility, at least by the various red medic runes that lay around it, though the heavy guard it was under made Penumbra suspicious as to its true intentions.

"Formia," the Changeling said to the guard, "and Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra, here to see Emperor Nicholas' project."

The Fusilier nodded and tapped a code into a pad next to the door, opening it. "Take the door to the right, then the first left, there'll be a Fusilier waiting for you."

Sure enough, on the first left from the right side door, a Fusilier, wearing a dark red half-skirt, waved them over. The Fusilier turned and entered a code into the door panel, then spoke into it, "Formia and Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra." The Fusilier waited for a second, stepping back, before hearing the click of the door unlocking and parting it for the two guests. "They're inside," they said, before closing the door behind them.

The room appeared to be an observatory, looking out over an operating theatre containing an empty bed, deactivated lamp and nothing else. A pair of coated doctors stood by the far wall, whilst six PHALANXs sat on a set of benches near to them.

"Everyone's here now, doc," one of the PHALANXs said, "let's get a move on."

"Yeah," another chimed in, "I don't wanna wait any longer."

One of the doctors sighed, before straightening his tie and stepping forwards. "Welcome, Princess Formia and Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra." He gave a formal bow. "Emperor Nicholas informed us you were coming. Please, take a seat, she is just about to arrive." He gestured towards an empty bench, slightly adapted for four-legged sitting, which the two sat on and waited, various questions running through Penumbra's mind.

Two minutes past, though it felt like far longer, before an unseen door in the wall opposite them opened, revealing another pair of doctors, followed by a pair of medical Fusiliers, then a pair of Zelian shocktroopers, then finally by what appeared to be a pony armoured similarly to the PHALANXs next to them.

One of the PHALANXs, with a skull for a face, rose, walking slowly towards the pony. He crouched on one knee in front of them, before placing an armoured hand on their shoulder and nodding. "Good job, kid."

Suddenly, an uproar came from the still sitting PHALANXs, who quickly rose, applauded and whooped like some miracle had occurred. They practically swarmed the red and grey armoured pony, who likely responded to their attentions, though the racket made Penumbra unable to hear them. Eventually, they pushed their way through the PHALANX squad and over to Penumbra and Formia.

"You know," a female voice came from the pony's helmet, "when they said you'd changed, I thought they'd meant like mentally." The voice became more familiar, but remained just out of Penumbra's reach. "But, hey, you look way cooler."

Rainbow Dash?

Penumbra stuttered, trying hard to keep herself from crying. "Rainbow?"

The pegasus laughed. "Yep."

Penumbra swept her up into an embrace, sobbing like a child the moment she did so. "Rainbow!" She yelled, in between bouts of sobs, "you're still here!"

"Yeah," the pegasus said, sounding almost winded, "of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

Penumbra pulled back, realising that Rainbow had no idea about what had happened to Applejack. "Oh." Her jaw trembled, though she managed to hold back the tears, for there were no more to give. "Applejack." She paused again. "Applejack and Fluttershy are gone, Rainbow."

The armoured pegasus was silent for a moment. "Figured," was all she said.

Penumbra sank into the floor, still clutching the now significantly larger Rainbow Dash. "It was all just so fast," she moaned, "all just so fast."

Their reconciliation lasted for the better part of an hour, with Rainbow Dash introducing the PHALANX Red Team to Penumbra, and Penumbra introducing Formia and her new form to Rainbow, who took it all very well. The PHALANX pony had been surprisingly receptive to the idea of Changeling soldiers, and even congratulated them on how well they had worked with the Empire, unlike - as she so eloquently put it - "the thick-skulled, rock-smashing, dirt-worshipping, fuck-head ponies." When questioned by Penumbra on what had happened to her, she had waved off the question, "it's better you don't know," she said, "trust me," then laughed heartily - so it couldn't have been that bad.

A previously unseen rune on Formia's horn glowed orange for a moment, making her eyes go vacant, before it vanished again and Formia seemed to return to the room. "We've been summoned," she said, "to the Sin of Damnation. Emperor Nicholas says he wants to see us, and it's urgent."

Saying their farewells and thank yous, the now trio left, emerging to the dimming mid afternoon. The sky had previously been relatively idle: the odd ship dotted about, with the Sin of Damnation the largest thing in the sky by far. Now, however, it was completely packed: millions of vessels of all different classes filled the skies, from the relatively ubiquitous frigates and cruisers; to battleships and carriers; to massive, outwardly rocky spheres, that almost looked like moons.

A dropship was already waiting for them, though it was far more ornate than the others they had seen, with a pair of guards waiting at the bottom of its ramp. The two guards were similarly different: female, blue skinned, wearing black boots and a black, skin tight bodysuit, complete with two large pauldrons, one with a purple stripe along its arc, a utility belt attached to a torso harness containing four pouches of equal size with a dark purple mark hanging off it, bearing a stylised Imperial insignia. Their helmets covered almost their entire heads, save an opening just below their eyes, which terminated again just above their mouth, going from cheekbone to cheekbone. Both held a long rifle almost as tall as they were, painted with various decorations similar to those displayed on the dropship.

Another four identical guards were inside, though one held a submachine gun, two held longswords and the final held a large bow. As the ponies and Changeling filed on to the ship, the guards at the bottom of the ramp followed up behind, and another guard stepped out from the cockpit, submachine gun slung over her torso.

"Take a seat," she said, "we're on the clock."

The moment they were seated, the dropship was airborne, with Formia especially not having the time to settle into a proper seat. The Changeling swore under her breath, eliciting a laugh from Rainbow, which buzzed awkwardly through her helmet's microphone - evidently it hadn't been designed with laughter in mind.

"Got a message from command," one of the guards shouted, "land in Hangar four, we'll have Changeling tag-alongs for this one."

"Copy that," another, presumably the pilot, though it was impossible to know for sure, shouted back.

Only a few seconds later, the dropship was suddenly filled with the background din of work, with the slight thud of touchdown quickly following. No sooner had they landed, and the ramp opened, that they were greeted by Emperor Nicholas, with two companies or so worth of Changelings in specially adapted, helmetless, Fusilier armour - a beaming Major Exa at the lead. The guards allowed the ponies and Changeling to leave first, before they filed off and stood at attention before the Emperor.

"Good, good," Nicholas said, "you are all here. This is a matter of some urgency, my plans have been expedited far beyond their original paths. Penumbra, I require you to lead a force to the Iridinus system, in order to meet with the Imperial Loyalists. They are vital to my plans, though I am required elsewhere so cannot personally perform the task. Bear my sigil and the Loyalists will allow you safe access to my flagship, there I want you to direct its commanders towards the Talon system, where myself and other forces shall be waiting. Fusilier-Major Exa, you are to deploy your forces to Talon III Secundus, in order to secure a reliquary there - the relics within must not be allowed to fall into enemy hands, destroy them if necessary. Praetorian Li, you shall deploy your forces to Talon III Tertius, in order to secure a similar reliquary. If all goes to plan, Penumbra and the Loyalists should arrive in the Talon system exactly three days from now, and we shall all have achieved our objectives."

He paused and looked about the group, awaiting questions, before nodding and continuing at the silence. "Penumbra, you may take whoever you need aside from Luna and Rarity, they already have a mission elsewhere. The rest of you, gather together and prepare for my signal, the Sin of Damnation shall be coming with us. Go."

XVI. So it begins

“When I observed the mouth of the World Eater from the Spire for the first time I was filled with awe. There was such beauty in it, such incredible destruction. I could not help but shiver as the world in front of us shattered. Such violent beauty, I had wondered, why must the most beautiful experiences be the most fleeting?”

- The Leviathan by Princess Lotan Nephilim -

It hadn't taken much convincing to allow Penumbra control of her own vessel, with Emperor Nicholas stating he was going to grant her it anyway. The Truth class light cruiser Echo of Jubilation had entered the Rift exactly two hours and seven minutes after its commander was given her orders, with only a relatively small team aboard.

Penumbra's requests had been simple: Princess Formia, Rainbow Dash and a squad of Fusiliers. Nicholas had provided her with all of them, along with what he called a "token," in the form of a pair of Rangers. Initially, she had expected to be waiting quite some time before being called to action, so settled back in the captain's office just behind the bridge and pulled out Nicholas' tome from her bags, which she had dumped on the desk - intending to sort through later.

He called himself king, king of the Rift, king of the realm of souls, king of the angels and of the daemons. When a mortal challenged him for his crown, he delighted in the competition, inviting the mortal to his court. Three days after his invitation, a cloaked and hooded stranger arrived in the court of the daemon king.

"O, Luysifer," said the stranger, "you are called king, yes?"

And Luysifer laughed. "Indeed, stranger, I am king."

"And that throne upon which you sit" said the stranger, "it is called the Hell Throne."

Luysifer nodded. "You are knowledgeable, stranger, it is the Hell Throne."

"And the sword which you wield," said the stranger, "it is called the Whirlwind."

Luysifer smiled. "Precisely, stranger, it is the Whirlwind."

"And this court," said the stranger, "it is called the Blade."

Luysifer clapped. "Precisely, stranger, it is the Blade."

"And it is called the Blade," said the stranger, "because it cuts."

Luysifer rubbed his hands. “My court is an extension of my power. My magick cuts at reality, so too does my court."

"I shall build a court," said the stranger, "and it shall be the High Blade, for it shall cut even the Blade which cuts reality, in a great cycle of death and rebirth."

Luysifer rose. "Who are you, stranger? I know every soul in my kingdom, save yours."

The stranger cast off his hood, revealing The Devourer. The Devourer drew his weapon and announced his challenge.

"Let the blood we shed decide the fate of this kingdom," said The Devourer.

Luysifer brought forth Whirlwind and his court cut the face of reality. The Devourer brought forth Godsplitter and met Whirlwind and beat it back. Luysifer's court was cut, and its blood stained the face of reality. Luysifer was beaten back to his Hell Throne, where The Devourer pierced his heart with Godsplitter.

Luysifer laughed. "No weapon can harm me. I am king here, my will is law."

The Devourer sung upon his sword and its edge cut at reality, whose laws too were cut. Luysifer's Hell Throne shattered, as did his body, with the obsidian feasting on his blood and his heart being encaged by it. The Devourer brought together the obsidian to forge a crown, which he placed atop his head. The Obsidian Lord called to his followers, who set the Rift ablaze, cutting apart the old kingdom.

Kaurava, who would be Scourge of the Light, delighted upon the death. "Your song," she whispered, "I shall use it to create a killing song, we shall fight with songs over swords."

The Obsidian Lord nodded. "Our songs shall be our swords," he said, "I shall name my court the High Blade, for it shall cut at the Blade which cuts reality. When our songs overpower our swords the High Blade shall too be cut by the High Song, so our perfection shall never cease. This cycle shall continue, evermore, until we reach the final, perfect shape."

She felt the familiar burning sensation in her throat. Words flashed through her mind, making her feel sick with every new syllable. As suddenly as it had arrived, the deathly sensation faded, returning her to health again. Was this the killing song Kaurava had mentioned? She made a mental note to consult Nicholas before using it; given the danger of the spells in the tome, it was likely to have certain consequences.

A buzz from the door turned her away from the tome, which she packed away again before answering. "Come in."

The door parted, revealing an Imperial officer in the standard, grey uniform. "Ma'am," she said, audibly gulping, "you have to come and see this."

The moment Penumbra stepped out of her office she could see what the officer meant: it filled the whole view screen, even from millions of miles away. It wasn't a ship in the traditional sense, more a mouth, which was slowly ripping apart an entire planet. Its length was in the thousands of miles, with its "bridge" in the form of a city on the top of the bow, with a pair of small stars hanging above it. Surely, Penumbra thought, this couldn't be what the Emperor had intended her to find?

The world eater quickly became background to a transmission, which forced its way onto the view screen. After a few moments of static, the face of a blue skinned female appeared, with reddish-purple hair, shaved almost completely on the left side and brushed over to the right and glowing blue eyes. "Unidentified vessel," she said, voice almost ethereal and immediately enticing and convincing, "this is Lotan Nephilim of the Eater of Worlds, state your business, and why you bear the Emperor's personal sigil."

Penumbra - already embarrassingly attracted to the new figure - stepped forwards. "I am Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra," she stuttered slightly, but managed to keep an authoritative enough face, "of the Echo of Jubilation, here on behalf of Emperor Nicholas. I wish to meet with the Imperial Loyalists and convey a message from the Emperor to them."

Lotan was silent for a moment, a look of realisation crossing her face. "Approach the Spires, keep at a minimum 2000 kilometre distance."

The transmission vanished, with the beautiful woman vanishing with it, to Penumbra's disappointment. "Take us in," she said, hoping someone else could do her job for her for a while, with an Imperial Commander thankfully stepping in.

As the cruiser got closer, the true size of the "Spires," was revealed. Each had a radius of at least a kilometre, with the largest having a radius of around four, with the smallest standing at about three kilometres tall. The two stars hovering above were just that: stars, though condensed and held in place by some kind of forcefield. Everything shone: being either gold, a purple crystal, or marble. The Spires - save their decoration - were outwardly made of solid gold. The Spires probably didn't even need armour, Penumbra thought, they were so heavily embossed with crystal emblems, gold reliefs and marble carvings. The reason for their almost peculiar construction - especially for what was ostensibly a warship - quickly became clear, as the cruiser passed through an enormous energy shield, thick enough and strong enough the vessel almost became stuck in it.

The transmission returned, Lotan having similarly returned with a more regal looking woman, though they were still clearly related, her hair a white braid and slightly smoother than that of her counterpart. "I am Lilith Nephilim, I lead the Emperor's Loyalists, based here aboard the Eater of Worlds. The authority of the usurping 'Imperators' is not recognised here, they are not the Emperor..." She paused at Penumbra's visible confusion, though Penumbra could have sworn there was nothing to transmit her visuals.

"Emperor Nicholas sent me," she said, "with a message for his flagship's commanders. I can assume that is you?"

Lotan spoke up again, "I command the Eater of Worlds," she said, Penumbra blushing slightly - though she tried to force herself not to - "but the Emperor cannot have sent you, he has been dead for many years." She paused. "Send a transport to the landing pad on the central Spire, we shall await you there."

"Oh, great," remarked Rainbow the moment the transmission deactivated, "back down the elevator again." She turned, halfway in the express elevator's door anyway, Formia behind her. "You coming Penumbra?"

The dropship ride over was surprisingly steady, fast too, with the most uncomfortable part being the Rangers' insistence they check all of the entourage's weapons. "The Loyalists have had a kill on sight policy for a long time, no harm in being cautious," one had said, whilst the other had checked the action on a Fusilier's rifle.

The pilots waited a moment to open the deployment ramp, whilst everyone got up and ready. If anything went wrong, the Rangers and Fusiliers would give cover whilst Penumbra, Formia and Rainbow returned to the dropship, then would either board or let them evacuate back to the cruiser, which would activate its Rift drive immediately. Penumbra had nodded at the plan, hoping it would not have to be used in any regard.

The ramp lowered, revealing a regal purple carpet along a golden walkway, flanked by a guard of hulking soldiers, carrying weapons the size of ponies and wearing purple, white and gold "armour" that looked more for show than protection. The Rangers both tensed up as they walked, though the massive guards seemed to not pay attention, or their masked and helmeted faces simply didn't show it.

Four figures descended a staircase at the end of the walkway, clad in a white armour that looked not too dissimilar to a far more advanced version of the old knight armours she had seen in Canterlot's armoury. Unlike the knights, however, they stood both on two legs, with five fingers on each hand and their armour was completely solid - no view slits or holes. Two held halberds, whose blades were made of orange energy, they had red plumes on their helmets; one held a small, white rifle, with gold trim, they had a plume plume on their helmet; the final held no weapons, though on closer inspection had a longsword sheathed to their left, they had a black plume on their helmet.

The four stopped a few metres from Penumbra, who led the group and was flanked by the two Rangers, who held their weapons low but clearly ready. The figure with the black plume stepped forwards.

"I," they said, voice deep but oddly soothing, "am Watch Captain of the Spire Ezekiel. You have an audience with the Princesses, come."

Ezekiel led on, with the others parting before forming around the group, the red plumes on either flank and the blue plume behind. The Rangers seemed to stiffen, clearly ready for a fight. Fortunately, they were led into an immense garden, where Lilith and Lotan alongside a large contingent of guards Penumbra swore were identical to the ones who had taken her from Cradle - Praetorians, she believed they were called - as well as more of the figures who had brought them up, with varying colours of plume save black. Lotan was stood, arms folded, watching their approach and every move, whilst Lilith was sat back on a marble bench, smelling the various flowers behind her.

Ezekiel stepped up to her, bending down and whispering something in her ear. Lilith listened, nodded, then turned to the new arrivals and rose. "You are from the Empire," she said, "but, you haven't tried to arrest us, kill us or call us terrorists yet. So, why the change of tone?"

Penumbra gave a confused look, to which Lilith elaborated, "it was not too long ago that forces loyal to the Imperators attacked our ship, denouncing us as traitors to the Emperor's vision. So, why are you not doing so?"

"Because we're here on the Emperor's orders," she said, "to bring you to the Talon system, Emperor Nicholas wants you and the ship there two days from now."

Lilith huffed, before stepping over to Formia, who shied back a little. "I have never seen anything like you, all three of you. Are you new to the Empire?"

Formia nodded. "Emperor Nicholas saved my species," she said, "in the Great Exodus, he helped my mother and Queen, Chrysalis in her time of great need."

Lilith seemed to take the information in, readying a response, before Lotan broke in. "What are you?" She asked, "where is your home planet?"

"I am a Changeling," she said, "a Changeling Princess to be exact. And, my home planet is destroyed, Emperor Nicholas has brought us many new homes, he is a good leader, and friend to my people."

Lotan's eyes seemed to glow a little brighter. "A Changeling? Is that just a fancy name or is it more descriptive?"

"Oh," Formia nodded, "descriptive," she wrapped herself in a blaze of green Changeling magic, causing the Praetorians to all instantly train their weapons on her and put themselves between the group and Lilith and Lotan. The magic subsided, with Formia having become a very near perfect copy of Lotan. The real Lotan stepped through a rank of Praetorians, coming close to Formia, investigating her - or, more accurately, herself.

"Incredible," she muttered, before her eyes glowed brighter again and she stepped back, "now, do Emperor Nicholas."

Formia nodded, becoming wreathed in a flaming pillar of magic again, which grew until about twice Lotan's height, revealing a slightly smaller Emperor Nicholas, without his crown and with darker eyes.

Lotan looked to her sister. "Almost exactly accurate," she said, "she even got the cracks of his lips correct."

Formia subsided, returning back to her Changeling self, with Lotan getting the guards to relax themselves and move back to their previous positions. Lilith stepped slowly towards Penumbra, eyes glowing at least twice as bright as they had been.

"This form," she said, "it was not always like this. Was it? I sense, yes, I am sure of it. I sense his power all over you, all through you. Your throat can bear the Voice, you are a student of Nicholas."

Her sister stepped forwards. "Sister," she said, "are you certain?"

"Yes." Lilith's eyes slowly faded. "Certain, he must be alive!"

"Praetorians," Lotan shouted, "prepare the Spire for our guests and a ship wide broadcast, my sister and I shall make the announcement." The Praetorians marched off in various directions, some up towards the vast tower in the distance, others towards the promenade that ringed the garden.

"Ezekiel." Lilith brought forwards the Watch Captain. "Have your Spire Guard return to the Spire and prepare themselves, we have waited millennia for this day. You yourself, come with us."

The Spire Guard nodded, before ordering a single Guard with a golden plume to carry out Lilith's orders.

"We had hoped," Lotan said to Penumbra, "dared to hope, even. We felt an immense release of energy nearly three decades ago, we thought it a result of Kyhron's destruction of the Archon's Forge, but the release must have allowed Emperor Nicholas to free himself. This is truly a wonderful day, I cannot wait to see father again."

"Father?" Penumbra questioned.

Lotan smiled. "Yes. Emperor Nicholas, our father, for millennia we had hoped to bear the mantle of his legacy, now it seems he shall bear it instead."

Penumbra's brain had short-circuited. "You're," she stuttered, "you're Nicholas' children?"

Lotan laughed. "Adopted daughters," she said, "though I suppose we bear enough of his power to be alike."

"Emperor Nicholas adopted?" Penumbra still couldn't quite get her head around the idea of Emperor Nicholas caring for children, even adopted ones. Something about his immense power, size, ferocity and his appearance made the image of him anywhere near children a strange one.

Lotan laughed again. "I like you, Penumbra," she held out a hand, "follow me, I'll explain as much as I can."

For the space of about an hour, Penumbra had entirely forgotten her mission, as well as her instant crush on the Herald of the Leviathan. Instead, her mind had been preoccupied with the image of Emperor Nicholas holding children, which she had been entirely unable to shake even after Lotan had explained his difference in body.

"He was smaller then," she said, "looked more like me. Didn't have wings, that was for sure, he grew those later."

She had found herself with a newfound respect for Emperor Nicholas. Not only had he personally led the Shadow of Sundered Star to end the corrupt and overall useless government on Lotan's "home" system, but, during the midst of the invasion, descended into one of the planet's slums and attempted to recover all of the eggs from an abandoned and filthy nesting site, though only two had survived. Whilst leading his Empire, one of the largest the galaxy - and later far beyond - had ever seen, he resolved to raise the two surviving children as best he could.

"And that was when Cecilia brought me to Tycan, to see this ship when it was just beginning construction. You could say I fell in love with this ship, had a weird phase where I'd sing to it every night." She chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of her head. "Even attached a little gold ring to one of the pipes in the engine deck. It's probably still there now."

They arrived in the central Spire in good spirits, with Penumbra regaling Lotan with a few tales of her time with Nicholas - though carefully avoiding her various mistakes. Before they entered what Lotan said was the meeting room they stopped, Lotan turning and whispering to Penumbra, "wait," she said, simply.

"Why?" Penumbra mouthed.

Lotan pointed to the small open crack in the double door, "Lilith and Ezekiel are inside, they're really cute but they'll get all awkward if you just walk in, leave it to me."

She slunk off up a small staircase, leaving Penumbra to wait by the door. At first, she resolved to not eavesdrop, which lasted for all of about half a minute before she stuck her eye through the gap and listened intently.

Lilith and Ezekiel were both sat, with their chairs quite obviously having been moved closer together. The Spire Guard was helmetless, revealing a surprisingly smooth face with long, flowing black hair, deep brown eyes and pale skin. Lilith had her head rested on his armoured shoulder, with closer inspection showing that either Lilith or the Spire Guard had placed a small cushion on his shoulder, giving her more comfortable support.

"I hope they take their time," Lilith murmured, staring up at the Guard, looking at a statue on the wall, his legs outstretched.

The Guard looked at her for a second, smiled, then turned back. "As do I," he said, "the gardens can be quite distracting."

"To think it took me centuries to get you to actually enjoy this." She smiled.

The Guard chuckled. "Took me centuries to show it."

Lotan emerged behind her, giggling quietly. Penumbra, slightly startled, managed to keep silent and pull back from the door. "What's up?" She whispered, causing Lotan to giggle even harder.

"I've set a localised alarm for that room," she whispered back, "look through the door."

After a few seconds of silence, a blaring alarm sounded, causing Ezekiel to throw himself up, draw his sword and have his helmet on inside of a second, with Lilith almost knocked to the floor. The Spire Guard lifted the Princess, holding her close to him, using half his body to shield most of hers from the door, sword ready. "Are you alright?" He asked, to which Lilith nodded, when the alarm fell silent again.

Lotan burst through the doors, skipping with every step, "hello!" She yelled, arms outstretched, "wonder what that alarm was for?" She asked, giggling, Penumbra sheepishly trotting up behind her.

Ezekiel let go of Lilith and straightened up, seeming to take it well, whilst the other Princess gave a fuming face and started to hit the feathery half-tunic and shawl on her sister's chest, obviously not intending to wound.

"Bastard," Lilith swore almost completely silently, "you were watching, weren't you?"

Lotan nodded, before giggling again. "Well, mostly her, I just set the alarm off."

Lilith gave a deadly look at Penumbra, before sighing and shrugging. "Just don't tell father," she said, "don't even want to know how he'd react."

"Sister," said Lotan, "shall we go and make our announcement now?"

Lilith and Lotan's faces appeared on screens all over the ship, with both announcing, joyously, the return of Emperor Nicholas, and the intention of the Imperial Loyalists to rejoin the Empire. Lotan directed her pilots to the Talon system, with Penumbra giving her Nicholas' exact orders on a hologram, the looks of elation on her and her sister's faces seeing their father again meant Penumbra couldn't help but crack a smile herself.

Major Exa, first Changeling officer of the Imperial Combined Arms Ground Forces and co-founder of the Imperial Combined Arms Ground Forces Changeling Corps, had only a few minutes earlier received a formal and informal congratulation from Queen Chrysalis, co-architect of the Great Exodus and her own mother. Now, in contrast to what could have been a cushy life as Queen of her own hive on some rural world, she was being strapped into a drop pod by a grizzled looking technician, who, despite only having one working eye, as the massive scar down the side of her face and the perfectly white sphere where colour should have been emphasised well, seemed to see better than most two-eyed Changelings. The bindings were incredibly tight, though she would rather endure the slight discomfort and breathing constriction they gave rather than become wallpaper paste. Five other Changelings had been placed into her pod, all drones, granted, though she trusted them as decent frontline troops.

"When you hit the ground," the technician said, voice husky, "the door will burst open. If it doesn't, pull this lever. If that fails, pull it again. If that fails call a friendly over to open it from outside. If that fails, consider sending out your last will and testament. If, however, the door opens, run like hell into cover, then work out where you are. Best of luck."

The door of the pod closed quietly, plunging it into near total darkness, save two small red lights on the central pillar. A moment later, the walls seemed to fade away, presenting real time images of the outside. Screens on the central pillar flared to life, revealing a Fusilier in a control room. "1 Company, 2 Company, control issuing directives now." The pads on their left forelegs flared to life, containing runes listing their objectives. "Activating pre-drop check sequence." The pods shunted, pulled forwards on cranes to their drop points. "Drop target, set; comms, set; objectives, set; pod status: flight control, set; ignition control, set; approaching deployment zones now, begin mission countdown.” The pod shook slightly as it suddenly came to a halt at the end of the crane, a number rune flashed up just below the screen, counting down. "Mission commander." An image of Exa's face appeared on screen, awaiting her speech.

"Alright," she gave her best commanding voice, trying to mask her excitement, "we are green and very, very mean. Let’s hit ‘em hard."

The Fusilier's face returned. "Deployment zones reached. Initiating drop sequence." With a clang, followed by a rush of silence, the immense doors below them opened out, revealing the plains of Talon II Secundus, with their tiny, grey rectangle of a target directly below them, the number rune ticked by, until, with a final, echoing tick, it vanished entirely. "Drop confirmed, all pods, go."

The pods silently detached from the ship, passing its hull within seconds. Exa's excitement reached a peak as she looked up and saw the Sin of Damnation slowly shrink, then looked down and saw her target slowly, then quickly, start to enlarge. Their descent took barely longer than a minute, before they began to buffet as they hit the atmosphere, the all around view from the pod's walls becoming half covered by fire.

The centre pillar lit up again, though no face appeared, only a robotic, female voice. "Ten seconds to drop point."

At Exa's feet, through the clearing orange fire, a blue target symbol appeared with a faint ping. The fire cleared less than a second later, with the pod's all round view vanishing five seconds after that.

With a heavy thud, the pod impacted ground, burrowing in to stabilise itself. The restraints binding Exa and her fellow Changelings detached with a release of air, before, with an explosion, the door was blown outwards, revealing the blinding light of midday.

Exa forced herself up, pushing out of the door and shielding her eyes from the light, looking around frantically in the few metres she could see for cover. She found it in the form of an impact crater, barely a metre high, enough space to keep her covered if she lay down. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust, showing her the almost completely flat, grassy plain her pods had landed in, with only the odd small impact crater for cover. The reliquary building, a large, rectangular based grey pyramid, was a few hundred metres directly forwards, about 200 from the nearest pod.

Gunfire was clearly coming from the general direction of the reliquary, emphasised by the bolt that screeched half an inch or so past Exa's right ear, causing her to throw herself down to the ground of the crater again, hoping her limited protection would be enough for the time being, at least until backup arrived.

And arrive it did, in the form of two massive Changeling morphs, each armed with twin heavy cannons - essentially walking artillery pieces. Only one round of shots from them and the gunfire was cut in half, giving Exa enough courage to run towards the nearest pod, which she quickly skirted behind and started yelling into her communicator.

A pair of drones came up behind her, one with the painted red shoulder pad of a Leftenant, the other an ordinary soldier. "Major," the Leftenant yelled over the din of fighting, "all pods are on the ground, thirty reported casualties."

"How's the sky reporting?"

"Cloaking fields detected around the base of the reliquary, should I advise a bombardment?"

A slight smile broke through Exa's face. "Definitely."

The Leftenant nodded, opening his communicator. "This is 1 Company," he said, "we need an orbital strike against cloaked troops outside reliquary."

A voice crackled back, "affirmative, authorising Category II munitions, give us a line."

Exa flicked a switch on her left vambrace, revealing a small, pen like contraption built into it. Slowly and carefully she peaked around the edge of the pod, lining up the end of the pen with where she assumed the cloaked shooters were. She tapped her vambrace again, which pinged, giving her the signal to retreat back to cover.

"Affirmative," the voice in the Leftenant's communicator returned, "targeting now. Shot."

A streak of orange burned through the air, exploding where Exa had targeted.

"Shot. Shot."

Another ten seconds of shots turned the ground outside the reliquary into a cratered and burned mess. The second shot broke the cloaking field, revealing a badly mangled group of daemons, whose body parts were quickly flung in all directions, whilst the Changeling onlookers roared in triumph.

"Confirming fire mission effectiveness."

As one, the Changelings rushed forwards, the front ranks practically leaping over the craters to access the wall, searching for a door or any other sort of entrance to use. By the time Exa had arrived, Changelings were beginning to try and batter the walls down, confused as to how the cloaked soldiers had exited the reliquary if there was no door.

"Where's the door?" Exa took a step back and observed the whole wall, it was covered in various small ascents and descents and patterns but none that looked even vaguely door shaped. "Come on there has to be a door."

Soon, however, a door arrived. More accurately, two doors arrived.

The heavily armed Changeling morphs, who had allowed Exa to run to cover, lumbered up, with one grunt enough to convey the message for the other Changelings to step back. The two heavyset morphs launched an all out bombardment against a point on the reliquary's wall, which was obscured by dust and smoke almost immediately. After two whole minutes of firing, their cannons went silent, ammo depleted for the moment.

As the smoke and dust cleared, it became apparent the doors had done their duty well: a large hole, large enough to fit one of the morphs at a time, had been opened in the side of the wall. A pair of Changelings, saddle-mounted rifles primed, jumped inside, scanning about with flashlights and their senses enhanced for the darkness. Another pair followed them, then another, checking it was absolutely clear before giving the order to enter.

"Clear," one drone finally shouted, at which the other Changelings surged forwards again, entering quickly, until all were within the confines of the reliquary.

Exa was immediately granted by a view that, under any other circumstances, she would have thought was heaven. Weapons, from swords to cannons larger than she was lined the walls, filling up nearly every available space. Further in, suits of armour designed for who knows what species stood on racks, polished to a shine. In glass cases stood on pedestals were various orbs or pyramids that she knew had some sort of hidden, powerful purpose, concealed in such a tiny box, though her attention was quickly torn away from them by the immense, skeleton-like construction above her.

Looking a little like the skeleton of a large whale, but with the head of a hammerhead shark, the brass coloured construction hung from the ceiling, suspended by black metal cables. It bristled with what she assumed were guns, with two large but squat cannons on the ends of its wide head, with other, small cannons on cables wrapped around each of its body segments. Whatever it was, it was old, even though it was polished to perfection it still showed signs of battle wear. Dents in its segments were common and several places had scratches that had completely discoloured the metal.

While Exa marvelled like a child seeing a new toy, a Changeling was communicating with the ship above. At first, Exa didn't pay them any attention, until a look of worry crossed their face and they began shouting to everyone who could hear, "we have incoming," they yelled, "hostiles coming from all sides!"

The Changelings went immediately to battle stations, taking up positions around the breach they had made and around the various rooms of the reliquary. Whilst her comrades prepared to defend, Exa decided she would try and activate whatever the construct above her was. Hopefully, she could drive it, if not hopefully it would see the attackers as a threat and not her.

With a buzz of her wings, she rose up to its head. There was more than enough space to land just above the eye, which, whilst off, was clearly designed with seeing in mind. Exa realised it was not driveable, most likely it was automated. All she needed to do was find the on switch, which was easier said than done considering what it was. She did, however, find a panel of some sorts, opening it up revealing a number of buttons around a small blank screen. She had no idea what the runes on them said, they were completely different from the ones she had seen on the Sin of Damnation, but she pressed a button at random regardless. It made a ping sound, then nothing else happened. She pressed another button, this one making a slightly more lower pitched ping. She pressed another, which made a slightly higher pitched ping and switched the screen on, which was filled with runes she couldn't read and a graph of some sorts.

Exa, pretending she knew what she was doing, pressed another button, which pinged and made a set of four small bars appear on the graph. She pressed another button, which pinged and made the third bar from the left go up from a third of the way up to half of the way up. There were only three more buttons, pressing another yielded a ping and for the first and second bar to increase to the half way mark, another made the fourth bar increase to the half way point. The final button, Exa assumed, was the on button. She pressed it, causing it to ping and for the bars to increase to three quarters of the way up. She paused a moment, which made her suddenly aware of the yelling and gunfire from below. She resolved to help the moment she switched the contraption on.

She pressed the first button again, which pinged and pushed the bars all up to the top point. Surely, she thought, the second button she pressed was the one to switch it on. She pressed it, eliciting a ping and for all of the runes to flash bright red, the graph to disappear and a sudden mechanical wail to emit from the machine's head.

Exa stepped back from the panel. "Erm, hello?"

A burst of loud, deep static came from the machine, with its eye suddenly blaring red, eliciting another, longer burst of static. The machine's weapons powered up next, small points on them flashing red as they swivelled, as though testing their movement. Another two, short bursts of static came from the machine, causing its head to shake slightly. Another burst of static.

Two of the gun carrying cables around the first body segment flared to life, glowing light blue, and began to move around, testing the air. One of them struck one of the holding cables, another short burst of static came from the machine and it sliced the cable in half, causing it to sag a little on the left side. Exa recognised what it was doing and cut one of the cables supporting its head, just as another burst of static, this one a lot louder, came through, with the middle spine between each body segment suddenly lighting up, creating a sort of visible forcefield between each. On each segment, the gun cables came to life, found and cut their supporting cables, whilst Exa removed the final one holding up its head.

With the sound of rending metal, the construct came free from the ceiling, falling a few metres before coming to rest a comfortable two metres from the ground, hovering in place whilst it seemed to be thinking, Exa clinging to its head. One of the gun cables wrapped around her body, lifting her from its head and bringing her in front of its eye. It seemed to regard her a moment, before making another burst of static, as though asking a question.

Exa decided to take the initiative. "We need help," she said, "we're under attack, this facility and us."

Again the construct seemed to think, before making another long, burst of static.

"Help," Exa said again, "we need it."

The construct brought one of its gun cables forwards, moving Exa back slightly to allow it room to move. It pointed at her head for a second, before moving up and down in a nodding motion. The machine made a few short bursts of static, before lowering her to the ground, passing her from cable to cable to get her close enough. The construct rose slightly, causing the pyramid's walls above a few metres up to open outwards, revealing the air outside.

Slowly, the construct floated upwards, then forwards, hovering over the battlefield a moment. Though a great many daemons were dead, so too were a number of Changelings. One of the large artillery morphs was collapsed on the ground, a large chunk of its abdomen destroyed, its comrade stood next to it, firing wildly and roaring with rage as it tore apart every daemon that tried to get close. Wounded Changelings were being dragged inside the breach by their fellows, many of whom would also be hit as they retreated.

The construct emitted a bellowing burst of static, before levelling all of its guns against the hordes of daemons and fired. Within a second, two immense holes were blown into them, scattering body parts and individual daemons everywhere. The construct floated forwards, slowly coming down the pyramid, firing as it went. With flashes of light, WarSynths teleported into the gaps, giving supporting fire with their long rifles, melting away dozens of daemons at a time.

Celestine recognised almost immediately her facility was under attack. At first, she had assumed it was by the quadrupedal insectoids that she had detected on her first ping, though that was quickly revealed to be false. One of the insectoids had even assisted in freeing her, helping to cut the cables that had held her up originally. At first, many of the insectoids seemed fearful of her, though they quickly realised they were both fighting a common enemy and moved to assist. She had considered requesting they retreat, but a little help for her WarSynths would never go amiss, nor be unwelcome.

The Aetherspawn she faced were not particularly resilient, though they made up for their lack of strength in their sheer numbers, looking more like a field of wheat than an attacking enemy force. She sent out an order to her WarSynths, telling them to slow advance, standard, tried and true tactics for dealing with Aetherspawn. The insectoids followed up with them, fortunately having enough sense to keep behind the advancing wall. Celestine moved forwards, certain a nexus was nearby, jamming her senses beyond a mile or so. Sure enough, a large Aetherspawn, its connection to its master clear, stood at the back of the horde. Celestine fired a pair of shots from her main guns, hoping to at least destabilise it so no more reinforcements could be brought in. Exactly as predicted, the Aetherspawn was staggered, instantly stopping the flow of enemy combatants. As the Aetherspawn gathered itself, Celestine blinked towards it, before activating her close combat module and blowing a twenty metre radius circle into the horde, firing her close range scattercannons into the nexus' thorax, blowing it apart.

She gave an order for her WarSynths to halt their advance, but to continue mopping up the Aetherspawn. She would push the horde forwards, where they would break on the line of WarSynths, destroying their forces in a few minutes. She sent off another pair of pulses from her close combat module, cutting the horde in half instantly. Her scattercannons mopped up the survivors of the blasts, whilst her WarSynths tore apart the horde on their side with perfect efficiency.

Satisfied the attack had been neutralised, she returned to her line, ordering her WarSynths to stand down and return to their previous duties. One by one, they teleported back to the core, whilst her sensors finally freed up. With a ping, she located the insectoid who had helped free her, floated up to her and attempted to communicate once again.

"Why are you here?" Her translation matrices seemed to have failed - strange.

The insectoid seemed not to understand her, odd but not entirely implausible. Apparently, she had no implants or training to recognise her speech. Her species also did not appear in her database, very curious indeed. The Great Rebellion must have succeeded, there was no other explanation for why the Plan had failed and no one could understand her.

Sure enough, in the multitude of ships above, there was a number of Daux, though each was far removed from the machines they had once been. They had flesh and blood, rather than metal and wire.

The Eater of Worlds' entrance into the Talon system was relatively slow, owing to the fact it was too big to fit through a Rift Generator's Rift. Instead, it was carried atop a massive Rift storm, like a surfboard on a wave, though increased by millions of times. Penumbra was told that, originally, it was only Emperor Nicholas whose psionic power carried the ship, now it was a host of so-called Illuminaries whose combined psionic power could create the storm and move the ship. Apparently, however, the storm's magnitude had more than tripled when Kyhron's report of the destruction of the Archon's Forge had come through, which Lilith and Lotan now realised must have been the Emperor's psionic might driving the ship once again.

Talon III and its three moons slowly came into view from the Spire, where Penumbra and her entourage stood. The Echo of Jubilation had been taken into one of the Eater of Worlds' hangars. Initially, Penumbra had wondered how a cruiser would fit into a hangar bay, to which Lotan simply reminded her of the size of the vessel and said, "there's enough empty space in this ship to fit an entire fleet of just carriers. The hangars, they do carry entire fleets."

The Echo of Jubilation emerged from the hangar, hovering a few thousand miles from the Spire, as they neared Talon II. Penumbra couldn't quite imagine how the world eating ship looked from the surface, though she had a decent idea from her first encounter with the vessel.

"This is Emperor Nicholas," a message, apparently pre-recorded, blared over the communicators of each of Penumbra's Fusiliers, "come to the reliquary on Talon III Secundus, there I shall deliver your further orders."

Lilith, Lotan and Ezekiel practically jumped to fulfil the message, Ezekiel barking out orders to his Spire Guard to ready a "barge," whilst Lilith and Lotan prepared themselves physically and mentally.

Penumbra took her dropship, which flew alongside the golden hemisphere of the barge, covered in so many sculptings and gemstones she thought this was what Rarity must delight in herself over. When they landed on the surface of Talon III Secundus, they were greeted first by Luna and Rarity, who very awkwardly avoided Rainbow Dash, then Emperor Nicholas, who nodded at her, then a massive, brass coloured Strategos class construct, which apparently was friendly.

When the barge landed, on thin legs which emerged from small holds, Rarity first viewed it with absolute awe, then couldn't remove her eyes from it. As its ramp descended, a purple carpet descending with it, Rarity seemed to get more and more excited, before she fainted entirely when the first pair of the Spire Guard, red plumes marking them as the silent First Plumes, descended the ramp.

The First Plumes were followed by a pair Bejewelled Ones, their shoulders each with a large gemstone inset and cyan plumes on their helmets, then a Master Commander with a yellow plume. Finally, emerged the black plumed Watch Captain of the Spire Ezekiel, along with Lilith and Lotan, looking as regal as could be hoped.

The Spire Guard assembled in an honour guard at the bottom of the ramp, with Ezekiel stepping aside slightly to allow the Princesses access to Nicholas. The two stood still, watching the neutral Nicholas, allowing Rarity time to arise again. Penumbra whispered the gist of the situation into her ear.

It was Lilith who broke down first, a tear rolling down her cheek as she rushed towards her father, grasping his suddenly reduced form in a hug. Lotan quickly followed, practically diving onto the pair, both of the Princesses immediately crying their eyes out.

To both Rarity and Penumbra, it warmed their hearts, until they saw Nicholas' face. The Eternal Emperor of Irenton, the Master of Time, whose immense power Penumbra had only experienced a fraction of, was crying. Not outright sobbing like his daughters, but still clearly crying, a pure smile of joy on his mouth. Penumbra found herself in Rarity's position, as the world suddenly felt out from under her as she fainted.

When she awoke a few minutes later, Lilith and Ezekiel were speaking to Nicholas, whilst Lotan was shouting at the Strategos to Penumbra's right. The corrupted alicorn decided to check on Lotan first, curious as to what the Strategos was doing.

"I asked," Lotan yelled, "if you spoke Irenton."

The Strategos gave only a burst of static in reply, which Penumbra found she could, oddly enough, partially understand. "No," was the apparent translation.

Penumbra stepped up to Lotan. "It says no, specifically’ no cannot’."

The Princess gave her a look. "How,." She stopped herself. "Nevermind. Can you translate for me?"

"Sure."

She nodded. "What is your name?"

A burst of static. "Celestine." Or something of the like.

"Righ." Lotan rubbed her head. "What is this facility?"

A long burst of static, with pauses of only a tenth of a second to indicate spaces between words. "Storage world. Orbit mind world."

Lotan nodded like she knew what that meant. "And what is that?"

Another long burst of static. "Think world."

"Think world?" She laughed. "The world thinks?"

Static. "Yes."

"Who made you?"

Static, a lot of it, going on for about three minutes. "Assembly. Defend anti large rebellion. Build from foal queen. Last strategy build."

Lotan blinked. "What in the fuck," she mumbled, before turning to Penumbra, "I'll be honest, I don't know shit about Assembly Binary, I think father does, but he's a little preoccupied with the lovebirds. I want to know what a foal queen is, mostly because I want that to be a mistranslation. Come to think of it, how did you know that?"

Penumbra had an epiphany. "Apparently my soul was around at the time of the Dauxite Assembly. My memories, according to Emperor Nicholas, are still present but locked away within it, maybe I knew their language when they were around and am just getting the memories back."

"Huh." Lotan nodded. "That's unreasonably sensible." She looked over to her father. "Go get him over here, will you, I want to know what's going on."

Penumbra nodded and trotted over, only to immediately trot back when she heard what they were talking about. "I think I best wait," she said, "or else your sister might fry my brain or something."

Lotan laughed. "Ah, I see. Well, time to question it some more then."

As night fell, Nicholas assembled everyone together again, around a fire Rainbow Dash had made, with the PHALANX pony outright refusing to even acknowledge Rarity or Luna.

"The final phase of my plan," said Emperor Nicholas, form still reduced to just five metres tall, "begins soon. Lotan, have the Eater of Worlds consume Talon III once it and its moons are evacuated."

"Consume it?" She asked, "but, it's not just an ordinary planet or an empty crust, it's full of Assembly constructs."

"Exactly," Nicholas said, "we must draw out the Progenitor Construct at the planet's core, only then will we be able to access the Veiled Edge with our ships, allowing us to open a sustainable portal through to the Aether."

Lotan clearly didn't fully understand Nicholas' plan, but her trust for her father ran deeper than could be imagined. She nodded her head in acknowledgement of his orders.

Nicholas then turned to Rainbow Dash, completely encased in PHALANX armour. "Return to your friends," he said, pointing at Rarity and Luna, who Rainbow didn't even look at.

Rather than answer with words, she just shook her head.

"Your past squabbles or disagreements do not matter anymore," Nicholas roared, "you are stronger together, together you can defeat the Great Light. Countless have died so we can have our moment, our one chance to smother the Great Light once and for all. I will not have such sacrifice be for nothing because you could not look past your differences."

Rainbow, armoured and hardened as she was, was visibly terrified by Nicholas. She, albeit reluctantly, turned and walked over to where Rarity and Luna sat, with Nicholas' gaze constantly reminding her of his presence. "Hey," she said, awkwardly.

"Hey," Rarity replied, in a similar manner.

Rainbow paused for a moment, unsure of what exactly to say. "So," she said at last, trying to strike up a conversation, "how about this armour?"

The forces of the Talon system had all evacuated to the Shadow of Sundered Star, which held position twenty thousand miles from the Eater of Worlds. Rarity, having caught a glimpse of the flagship's Spires as they passed via dropship to the Night Truth, was overcome with wonderment, she had bombarded Nicholas with questions, all of which Nicholas had answered in surprising detail.

"Darling," she began her final question, "just how did you find so much gold? And, come to think of it, so many gems?"

Nicholas had laughed, "my Empire stretches far beyond what you can comprehend. The wealth of the Eater of Worlds is the wealth of many planets. I could remake the Eater of Worlds out of gold alone with the amount that remains unmined in just the Core."

All had been silenced when the Eater of Worlds began its task.

A small chunk, little larger than Penumbra's foot, of dirt rose from Talon III's surface. It was followed by several more chunks, then more and more. The planet's atmosphere became a tornado the size of a continent, acting like a vortex into the Eater of Worlds' mouth, tearing up chunks of earth and pulling them up. Slowly, but very, very clearly, even from an immense distance, the world began to crack. As the Eater of Worlds drew ever closer, continents began to rise from where magma had held them, crumbling as they entered the atmospheric vortex. A jet of magma, about as wide as a mountain, rose up next, widening as the Eater of Worlds drew even closer. Until, surprisingly, the magma stopped entirely, replaced by massive chunks of brassy alloy.

Through the zooming cameras of the Night Truth, could be seen individual constructs, from the thin WarSynths to much more sprawling constructs: made up of dozens of Strategos body segments without their weapons and covered instead with various terminals and computer equipment. Eventually, even they stopped, as the world's crust finally fully cracked, pushing a large, smooth, black sphere towards the Eater of World's mouth. As the sphere disintegrated, inordinate numbers of transistors were shattered, their remains being dragged into the hungry furnaces of the world killer.

The sphere was hollow, within being a construct that looked like an enormous Strategos class, though covered in cables and attached to the sphere like a baby in the womb. A few minutes after the construct entered, the world eating stopped, a transmission coming through a second later from Lotan.

"We're jammed," she said, "whatever that thing was, it's jammed us up."

Nicholas growled. "Precisely as planned," he muttered under his breath, "hold off your soldiers," he said to Lotan, "I shall deal with the Progenitor Construct. Penumbra." He turned to the corrupted alicorn, who didn't want to admit that machine had terrified her. "Ensure Talon III's moons are destroyed by the time I return."

Rather than take the elevator to the hangar, he opted to simply teleport over into one of the Eater of Worlds' mineral collection bays, an offshoot of the main chamber where the Progenitor Construct had been pulled to.

XVII. World Eater

“Where the Emperor went, death followed. He was a leader of hunters, of soldiers, of blood letters. He fought with such ferocity against the Angels that they refused to walk upon the ground he had tread. Their religion, kept hidden from prying Imperial eyes, evolved into something more primitive. All that remained of their culture was a death cult, one that declared that Emperor Nicholas would usher in the end times, wiping their species from existence as the foot soldiers of a great Jihad across all of reality.”

- The Angels: A Case Study into the Devourer by Anya Moris -

Nicholas, standing his full fifty feet tall, moved swiftly, far too swiftly than his form would seemingly allow. The atmosphere of Talon III, trapped halfway between the planet and the warship, made it possible to use his wings, though the presence of his quarry made him forego the fast option in favour of a more stealthy approach.

He hunted Karin, Confluence Mind, one block in what was the vast, galaxy spanning Assembly Nexus. Nicholas had, during the first year of his reign as Emperor, destroyed every Assembly Progenitor Construct save one: Xeves, the Termination, who had remained shielded inside the core of Chronove, out of Nicholas' reach. Karin was not an Assembly Progenitor Construct, at least not one created by the Assembly. Each large scale Assembly Construct was based on a previously living mind, though Karin had never lived. Karin was an AI, a high quality one, granted, but still relatively unintelligent in comparison to a living creature. Karin had not been built during the time of the Dauxite Assembly, rather built out of a host of mismatched parts more recently, designed to try and fill the gaps inside the Assembly Nexus.

Normally, Nicholas would not have bothered with the Assembly, there was very little, if anything, they could actually do in modern times and what little they could do wouldn't have affected him anyway. Karin, however, had, in the process of its construction, had an artefact implanted into it that Nicholas required destroyed in order for his plans to continue ahead. Fortunately for him, Karin's armour and shielding would have been shredded by the Eater of Worlds' onslaught, if not killed it outright. All Nicholas needed was the artefact destroyed, Karin's simulation of a life was of no consequence one way or the other.

He quickly came across Karin's tracks: a scar through compacted dirt, stone and metal, about twenty feet wide. Bodies of WarSynths and the larger and slightly more rare Minor Minds lined the immense chamber's walls, with a scant few apparently still active, though crushed and unable to move. Nicholas had no doubt the few that could see him would attempt to send a warning to Karin, though whether the construct was aware of his coming or not didn't matter any longer. Oathbreaker, his weapon, glowed and whispered with desire to kill, sensing the nearby presence of an Aethereal artefact. The sword beat like a heart, whispering directions into Nicholas' mind, energising him to run even faster.

By the rhythmic thumping of metal on metal, Karin must have been nearby. The echo would not travel far in the Eater of Worlds, given its heavily absorbent design, with Oathbreaker confirming that the construct would be in the next opening.

Sure enough, in a large processing room, a mile high and two miles across, half trapped by debris, hung Karin, blocking the exit way for all but the smallest pieces of material, most of Karin's armour was gone, with entire chunks of its hull along its ragged spine torn off. The construct had evidently seen better days, with almost everything that could be relatively easily broken off gone. Even with the world eating armaments shut down, the room was still unbelievably hot, instantly evaporating the scant bits of moisture on Nicholas' body. Oathbreaker's heart beat was powerful, with every beat so close to the last it felt like one long pulse. The sword glowed until it was entirely green in appearance, looking more like it was made entirely out of light than any material. The previous whispers became properly audible singing, which caused Karin's shields to flicker.

It took the construct a second to recognise him, before it suddenly sprung to life. The two cannons on its head opened fire, sending blobs of energy the size of cars at him at high speeds. The cables that covered its body flared blue and began to move, either firing off smaller bolts of energy, attempting to ionise the atmosphere around them or grabbing chunks of debris to throw.

Nicholas, gifted with the power of prescience, deftly avoided each shot, to which Karin responded by just firing more. Oathbreaker, singing for death, swung out at one of the largest shots, deflecting it back at the trapped construct. Karin could only frantically divert power to its shields before it was struck, creating a crackling ripple as the shield buckled under the pressure of the impact. Karin released a massive burst of static, little more than robotic curses, before showing Nicholas it hadn't learnt its lesson by firing more shots, which Oathbreaker deflected with increasing frequency.

Each new impact to Karin's shields appeared to make the construct angrier, driving it to fire more recklessly, until, with a final deflection aimed straight into Karin's eye, its shields collapsed with an explosive pop. The machine stopped for a moment, before it released another bellow of binaric curses and fired bolts of lightning all around the chamber.

Oathbreaker's bloodlust increased, its singing becoming louder and louder. Even at such a distance of a couple of miles, Oathbreaker's song scorched and scratched at Karin's hull, its lack of armour making it ever the more vulnerable. The sword whispered to its user, telling him it could dodge Karin's attacks and destroy it. The user, trusting his weapon, leapt forwards, his wings only doing half the job of driving him towards the construct, with the sword seeming to lock onto Karin's red eye, beyond which lay the construct's mind core, the brain of the entire machine.

Lightning arced along Nicholas' body, though Oathbreaker was able to absorb most of the energy, the rest dissipating along his armour. Oathbreaker shone even brighter, filling the entire room with a baleful green glow, its song burning even the air around it. Karin's hull began to melt the closer Oathbreaker got, with the construct yelling out in binary again, apparently wounded. When Nicholas got within a few dozen metres, the lightning stopped, with Karin apparently giving up all resistance.

When Oathbreaker impacted Karin's eye, pushing through to its mind core and the artefact within, it pulsed again, all of its energy releasing along its edge, its song reaching a zenith as the construct's head exploded, leaving not even ash behind, the rest of the body crumpling to the floor, its various electromagnets and anti-gravity drives shutting down and causing the construct to become little more than a pile of components on the floor.

Nicholas drifted slowly to the ground, Oathbreaker's whispers confirming the artefact was destroyed. "The blockage is gone," he said, knowing that Lotan could hear him, "you may reactivate the world eater, destroy the rest of the planet."

The room began to heat up, causing the remains of Karin to glow bright red. A torrent of ten thousand kelvin material sped towards him, but he was gone by the time it passed the two miles needed to reach him.

Talon III was entirely consumed just an hour later, with its three moons becoming little more than asteroids on the orders of Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra. When Nicholas returned to the bridge of the Night Truth, greeted by Luna and Rarity with a bow, and Rainbow Dash with an even higher level of respect for him, especially after seeing his armour incandescent.

"Luna, Rarity," he said, edging Oathbreaker over to Rainbow so the inquisitive PHALANX pony could have a closer look, "I have one final task of you."

Luna's eyes widened. "Final?" She muttered in disbelief.

Nicholas nodded. "The end draws near. You must travel to the Redeemance System, to the planet called New Horizons. There, you must contact the Imperial Overwatch, they will direct you to a pony by the name of Ablazed Glory, tell her that her Emperor's plan begins, and that she will provide fuel for its fire, she will understand you. Go quickly, time is of the essence."

Luna nodded, practically pulling Rarity to the express elevator to the hangar.

XVIII. Ablazed Glory

“There were countless in the Emperor’s service who would not have been accepted anywhere else. No matter your quirks, disfigurements or disorders, - if you fought well and fought for the Emperor you were welcome in his ranks. None that have tried to emulate this have succeeded, none are quite as good a judge of character as the Emperor had been.”

- The Emperor’s Bands by Anna Krystalus -

"I took the liberty of providing you with transport," Nicholas said through Rarity's communicator, attached to the armoured vambrace on her left foreleg, "Imperial Overwatch have already been informed of your arrival. Try not to get too close to the locals, they have been known for violent disruption."

Their transport was a ship unlike any they had seen before. It was sleek, like a chrome needle, twice the length of a dropship and with enough room for the two of them. The inside was cosy, unlike the utilitarian grey of the dropships, it had carpet, comfortable chairs, a control terminal implanted into the wall, whose light could be deactivated at any time. There was enough room heightwise for Luna plus another two feet, with more than enough for Rarity. The fashionista pony found herself marvelling at the carpet, which was of an exotic design she had not seen before and felt wonderful on her soles, whose armoured coverings she had removed to savour the feeling.

They had been within for thirty minutes, sitting for most of it, when the terminal flashed up with a picture of their destination, telling them they had arrived. Rarity was somewhat surprised at how quick the journey had been, only slightly unhappy that she did not get to enjoy the comfort of the needle ship for long. Luna, however, had looked at the screen like it had told her she was actually a newt, before worryingly lighting her horn.

She sighed contentedly after a few seconds. "Why didn't I feel us enter the Rift?" She wondered aloud, "I usually can."

Rarity shrugged. "Maybe the ship's well insulated?"

Before Luna could think on it too hard, a transmission came through, sounding silky smooth over the ship's speakers, "this is the Imperial New Horizons Overwatch station, identify yourself."

She tapped a single button on the terminal's side, sending their full identification to the Overwatch. It took all of five seconds for the station to confirm their credentials. "Affirmative, please move to dock 1, we'll have a transport to the surface ready for you."

Luna pressed another button, which targeted the ship to glide silently to the dock, where a platoon of Fusiliers were waiting for the pair. At their head was a uniformed officer, silver epaulettes and a red lanyard marking him as a Captain, he saluted the pair, before walking them further into the surprisingly quiet station.

"Emperor Nicholas had told us to expect you," he said as they walked, "so we took the liberty of preparing a transport and escort to the surface. I'm sure he informed you of the hostility some of the residents of the planet have, but if you keep at a distance they shouldn't be any harm. If you need anything, send out a call on your communicator and we'll give you priority."

"Where are the rest of your soldiers?" Luna asked, "I was under the impression there was a larger garrison force."

All of the hallways were empty save the two ponies and their platoon of guards. No ships moved in and out of the docking ports and no messages blared over tannoys. Everything was eerily quiet and empty.

"Most are on the surface," he said, "we only have a battalion stationed here. Used to have upwards of three divisions, Rangers and all, now they've been called off elsewhere and it's just a skeleton crew to care for the whole system. Believe me, I don't like it, but if those soldiers weren't desperately needed elsewhere, Emperor Nicholas wouldn't have ordered it, so I'm not one to complain."

"Wait," Rarity said, confused, "three divisions? I'm under the impression that's quite a lot."

The Captain chuckled. "I thought so too when I was first transferred here. There were about two hundred settlers at the time, so I thought why the hell would we need nearly thirty thousand troops to garrison this system? We're parsecs from any hot zones and we're so deep in the core if we needed any sort of assistance a WarFleet could be here in an hour. Top it all off, a rebellion occurred, about half of the settlers declaring themselves independent from the Empire. Whole thing lasted about an hour, Rangers deployed in about half an hour after the initial declaration and the rebel leaders were all gone by the end of the hour. So, when the second wave of settlers arrived, I didn't think much of it. Any rebellious sentiment would quickly disappear when the first wave told them about what happened when they tried it, so, command rotated most of the units out, only our battalion remaining behind. Then, another rebellion, about four thousand in all, or about four fifths of the second wave, none of the first you'd be unsurprised to know."

Luna and Rarity passed a look between them - rebellion meant bad news, especially when it came to Emperor Nicholas.

He paused as they walked, shaking his head. "When it started, I thought, ah, easy, we'll just drop pod in and sort them all out. We launch a platoon in by drop pod, thinking they'll secure a landing zone and give us a better idea of the enemy forces," he paused for a moment, before continuing, "three of five drop pods are down before they hit the ground, ten soldiers are living on the ground, number decreases to seven after ten seconds, they leg it into the woods and hide for a whole day, we don't know how many rebels are after them, and we can't help them because the bastard who shot down our pods is also filling the whole sky with flak, if we sent in more pods they'd be ripped to shreds the moment they broke atmosphere, if we sent in dropships they'd be torn up and our stocks were limited as it were."

The captain chuckled, more in self-deprecation. "So, we squawk for help, thinking we'll get a Fleet in or something and we'll fight a protracted ground war. Won't be easy but we'll win in the end. No. Instead, we get a message back five minutes later, it's the Emperor, and he's coming here, right now, with three cruisers and six divisions. Three hours later he arrives, tells us to deploy our troops around the largest settlement. Now, forgive me for saying it, and I meant no offence, but my honest thoughts were: what, is he insane? We told him how our pods got shredded, now he wants us to run at the source of the gunfire? No way. Then, we take a closer look: the whole settlement's surrounded by a purple shield dome. Protecting them from us, sure, but also protecting us from them. So we deploy all our troops, and Nicholas deploys his, we've got some sixty thousand troops surrounding this town of about 4500, so we've got the numbers advantage. I see the Emperor, and ask him what we're going to do about the shield, because none of our guys can get through it. He looks at me and says: 'I will drop the shield, the moment I do, I want you to attack, full force. Try not to kill unnecessarily, but do not hesitate to do so. Once the settlement is clear, evacuate the survivors and burn it to the ground, leave nothing standing'," he did his best impression of Emperor Nicholas, which was surprisingly accurate, all things considered.

"So I nod and leave, honestly not wanting to know what he'll do to open it, we've all heard the stories after all. But no, no weird freaky ritual or magick, just punches it so hard it vanishes. Everyone just stood there, even the rebels inside, nobody knew what the hell had just happened. We're lucky one of our guys was a veteran, said something about a campaign on somewhere called 'Cradle' later on, just opens up with his autocannon, forcing the rebels to duck down so our guys can stun them and move them back. Whole thing's sorted in three minutes, the town's clear and everyone's happy, except the rebels obviously. Only place left to take is this fort-like structure on a hill, so I gather up a party and we make ready to move in. Emperor Nicholas steps in front and he just says 'no, leave it to me'. Believe me, I was more than happy to give the order for everyone to move away because I did not want to know what he was going to do in there. Whatever he did, it was quick, comes out five minutes later, no survivors with him."

The Captain shuddered a little. "There's a lot of reasons he's the Emperor, but that one stuck with me. Anyway, we're here."

The walk had been long, surprisingly long considering it was a relatively small station. "Wy was that walk so long?" Luna asked, before mentally cursing herself for causing the Captain to speak again, as well as hoping he wouldn't write her an essay about this.

"Only got two dropships not in maintenance," he said, pointing to the two dropships in the small hangar bay, "there's troops already waiting."

Luna nodded, surprised he had been so curt, before pulling Rarity to the waiting transport, content in the Captain not speaking again, even if the story was interesting.

Rarity, meanwhile, had been almost shocked that ponies of all creatures would rebel against the Empire, especially in such a brutish manner. Surely if a pony had any sort of problem with the Empire they could sort it with words? And not only one rebellion, but two! Honestly, she thought, why not just try and talk like civilised creatures? Ponies were better than random violence!

Their provided dropship contained two squads of Fusiliers, who all just sat and ignored them as they sat down. There was no report from the pilot or speech from a Sergeant as the dropships lifted off, descending down to the planet and unceremoniously dropping them off at the edge of a small settlement, ringed by hills.

Five squads in total left the pair of dropships, ringing Luna and Rarity and walking with them, shielding them from view of most of the inhabitants. A Leftenant emerged from the group. "The mayor of this town should know where you need to go. She's not hostile, a bit weird, but not dangerous. Some of the townsfolk might try and attack you though, just don't go talking to anybody you don't know. I can show you the way to the town hall whenever you're ready."

The pair of ponies nodded, with the Leftenant gesturing towards town. As the group approached town, ponies began to appear just beyond the wall of Fusiliers. There were only a few at first, the odd scattered adult watching them with worried eyes. Luna ducked down slightly, hiding behind the Fusiliers, whilst Rarity held her head high, entirely unconcerned by the gaze of the onlookers. The closer they got, the more ponies arrived, watching on from the road or from the windows of their houses. When the Fusiliers came within 10 metres, they parted, keeping their distance, close enough to see closely but far enough as to not provoke anything.

When the Fusiliers' boots transferred to the asphalt, they paused for a moment, before beginning a thunderous march, their footsteps echoing and drawing even more eyes, though at more of a distance. Eventually, it seemed as though the entire town was out to watch, with everyone from adults to foals barely a year old staring on. When they came to the town square, the group was stopped by a road block of ponies, with a wizened beige mare at the head, three ponies who looked like adolescents with her.

The Leftenant stepped forwards from the group. "Mayor Mare," he said, "the Emperor sends a messenger."

Mayor Mare had a small, but kindly smile on her face. "My ears are open," she said, "may they come forth?"

The Leftenant paused a moment, before nodding, gesturing up Luna and Rarity. The front rank of Fusiliers broke, letting them pass, before reforming again in perfect step. Mayor Mare's eyes widened slightly. "Oh my," she muttered, "Rarity? Is that you?"

One of the adolescents behind her stepped forwards, "Rarity?" Her voice faltered slightly.

"Sweetie Belle!" Rarity rushed towards her little sister, sweeping her up in a hug. "You're here? Oh dear." She remembered back to what the Captain had told her on the station, lowering her voice to a whisper, she said, "you didn't rebel, did you? I would hate for my little sister to be caught up in such, such," she stuttered, looking for the word that wasn't a curse, "barbarism."

Sweetie Belle's eyes looked dead and she shook her head, quite clearly hiding something, which Rarity instantly found out. She stood up, traipsed over to the Leftenant, looked him dead in the eye and yelled, "if," she strained every syllable, "my sister was or is harmed in any way, you can expect far worse than just a discharge, that goes for every single one of you."

The faceless soldiers stood silent, like statues, but Rarity knew they had got the message. If they hadn't? Then, she would give it to them physically.

She turned, walked back to her sister and swept her up again. "Oh, Sweetie Belle, I'm so happy to see you!"

"We bear an order from the Emperor," Luna said, "we seek a pony called Ablazed Glory, may you show us to her?"

Everypony's jaws dropped, with Mayor Mare turning white and recoiling slightly. "Is she insane," one of the ponies asked aloud, with others expressing similar sentiment.

Mayor Mare's jaw trembled. "Oh," she said, quietly, "oh my, oh my. Oh dear, oh my, oh dear."

"Well," the Leftenant said, "can you? Or not?"

She chuckled worriedly. "Anypony," she said, "anypony else. Anypony on the whole planet, just not her, not her."

The previously background mutterings rose to a head, to full on yelling. It sounded like a riot was about to begin.

"Quiet," the Leftenant yelled, "all of you, silence!"

Before he could speak further, Luna came further forwards. "Why not? What do you have to fear of her?"

Mayor Mare laughed in her face. "I don't fear for myself," she said, "I fear for you."

"And why is that?"

Mayor Mare stopped laughing, her face and tone becoming deadly serious. "Because she will kill you," she said, "she will kill you painfully. Anypony could take you to her, there is no problem finding her, the problem comes the moment you enter the gates."

Scootaloo, or somepony who looked identical to Scootaloo, spoke up, "we can take them."

Luna looked to her, rising up above Mayor Mare, "you will take us?"

Scootaloo's eyes were oddly dead, her voice blank and expressionless, it was like all the flair she had once had had been taken. "You wish to meet with Ablazed Glory? You do so through us."

"And who might you be?"

"I'm Scootaloo. And we're the Guardians," she said, "Guardians of what? Guardians of whatever reason you seek out Ablazed Glory. We stick it up on a notice board outside of the town hall, there all ponies can read it and your reason won't be forgotten, though you will."

Luna chuckled. "You'll be disappointed then, I'm afraid," she said, before putting on the Royal Canterlot Voice and arising over everypony's heads, "I am Luna, Night bringer, when I lived a thousand years ago, all of Equestria was wreathed in Night, I bring forth the Darkness as herald of The Eternal Emperor, Nicholas The Everlasting. His word is law across the Omniverse and I am but one arm of his justice," she lowered her voice again, "we will not die or be forgotten. Lead, we shall follow."

The three Guardians: Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle and Applebloom, led them beyond the boundaries of the town and up a winding path to the top of the hills that surrounded it. The ponies and Fusiliers all watched as they left, with Mayor Mare lamenting the death of Rarity before it had even happened. Luna had explicitly ordered the platoon of soldiers not to follow, not least because it might anger Rarity.

To her credit, Rarity was surprisingly calm about seeing her sister in such an odd state. If Rarity was anything like Luna, however, who was thinking hard about why the Guardians seemed so dead inside, she was likely only calm without. Luna assumed Sweetie Belle was Rarity's sister anyways, her sense for such a thing had never been honed as much as her others but she could tell relation when she saw it.

Scootaloo was the only one who spoke, as well as the only one who actually introduced herself, with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle both being introduced by Rarity. "I remember when Emperor Nicholas came," she said, "everyone does, though no one speaks about it."

"Why do they not?" Luna asked, though she believed she already knew the answer.

"He was the one who burned Equestria," she said, "then he burned New Equestria. There is a reason the town isn't named, ponies think Equestria might be cursed, or something." She chuckled drily. "It probably is."

"Don't you believe he had reason to do so?"

She shrugged, "probably did. Doesn't change anything. I don't care how good his reason is, he killed millions of ponies. He killed a whole planet. Then repeated it with a little town, they couldn't even fight him. His soldiers? Maybe one or two might have died, but him? Not a chance. It's no surprise the Crystals fled to their little castle, they thought they could just shut the gate on him. We both know how that story ends."

"The Crystals? What are they?"

Scootaloo chuckled again, still as dead as before. "Who were they, you mean. They were a family, from old Equestria, used to rule over some place in the mountains, the Crystal Empire I think they called it. Then a real Empire arrived and burned it all away. They and their infant daughter were evacuated, ended up here, they led a rebellion, Nicholas killed them."

"Do you believe they deserved it?" Luna continued her probing questions, mostly out of pure curiosity.

Scootaloo shrugged again. "Hell if I know. If they didn't, maybe they wouldn't be dead. Or maybe they would anyway. Maybe, it was just fate."

"How did you come to be the Guardians?"

Scootaloo didn't answer, instead pointing to a field of ash and blackened ground ahead. On a small hillock at its far edge stood a small, stone fort, intact but scorched like the surroundings. "There," she said, pointing with a hoof, "Ablazed Glory is in there. We're leaving."

Rarity barely had the chance to say goodbye to Sweetie Belle, before the three Guardians disappeared over the crest of the hill they had just climbed. "This must be the town the Captain was talking about," she said, observing the thoroughness of the burning, "that fort must be the one Nicholas went into. The one with the Crystals." Rarity knew who the Crystals were, though found that she felt no remorse or horror hearing of their death, just a resigned acceptance and an understanding that it was worth it in the long run, which would have horrified her of a year ago.

"New Equestria," Luna muttered, "ended just like the old."

They passed slowly through the ashen remains of the city, not out of respect, but out of a worrying sense they were being watched, like they had just crossed into someone else's domain. The largest structure left in town - aside from the fort - was a piece of wall about three inches high, so devastating had been the destruction the Empire had wrought upon it. Though, Rarity knew full well that New Equestria had gotten off lightly, far worse could have been done.

As they ascended the hill up to the fort, the sense they were being watched became heavier. Luna was, in fact, certain they were, her mind having been honed to detect these kinds of things. There was someone, close by, watching them intently, though she didn't quite know where, because there was something else watching them too, something all around them. The fort's door was closed, guarded by a single sentry.

"Rarity?" Spike the dragon emerged from a divet in the wall, "is that you?"

"Spike?" Rarity questioned, "but, I thought you were with Penumbra?"

"Who?"

"Twilight's new name," she elaborated, "Penumbra. Why, how are you here?"

Spike looked confused. "I've always been here, well, apart from the time when I didn't know here existed. Other than that, I've always been here."

Rarity was almost ashamed in herself, she had spent the entire time not knowing they had left Spike behind. She could have sworn she had seen him with Penumbra at some point, but when she tried to think back to an exact image, she couldn't.

She rubbed the back of her head with an armoured hoof. "Sorry, Spike," she said, awkwardly, "we hadn't noticed."

Spike shrugged. "Eh, what can you do. I don't mind it here, it's quite nice. I get a lot of gems to eat, weather's always good, and I always have company." He cracked a big smile, one which Luna knew instantly was fake.

Fortunately, before Rarity could question the little dragon further, a voice drifted through the wind. "Spike," it said, "let them enter."

Spike laughed. "Whoops," he said, "sorry, almost forgot to unlock the door for you.” He jumped up to where a very crude lock stood in the wooden door - how it had not been burnt to a crisp was unknown - placing a key within and turning it using his whole body as gravity pulled him back down. "There you go," he chirruped happily, "she's ready for you."

They crossed the threshold of the door, with it immediately slamming shut behind them and wreathing them in total darkness. Luna, being Princess of the Night, had no problems seeing in the dark and Rarity had brought a torch. Together, they made their way further within the surprisingly empty entrance hall. There were splotches on the ground where clearly something had once stood, though whatever it was it was now gone. The room was completely barren, not even wallpaper or a carpet, let alone something useful like a light of any kind.

"Ablazed," Rarity said, chuckling to herself, "yet not a candle to be found."

As if on cue, a massive orange light appeared at the end of the hall, lighting up most of the hall. Rarity shrugged. "Well, at least she listens."

Luna knew exactly that Ablazed Glory, or someone, anyway, was listening to them. There was a strong presence nearby for sure, not one like Spike, one far bigger. "Ablazed Glory," she called out, "we come with a message from Emperor Nicholas."

The wind that had brought the voice to Spike rose again, apparently not coming from outside. "Yes," it said, "I am sure you do. Come, further in."

Had Luna not been Luna, she would have been almost worried by the ominous tone of that instruction. Luna, however, was Luna, as far as Luna knew, anyway. Rarity - who was not Luna - didn't seem worried either, she seemed courageous, glad to prosecute Emperor Nicholas' mission to the finish.

They crossed the threshold into the next room, which seemed more in keeping with the former home of a royal family. The floor was made up of a fancy rug or polished wood, with the rooms lined with various gold framed paintings of something and various wooden silverware cabinets, because every royal household always seemed to have far too much silverware to ever feasibly use, unless they threw it all away after the first use. Luna had found out such when she had conquered Canterlot, that or her sister had something for silverware.

The chandelier that hung from the ceiling provided no light, probably because someone had forgotten to replace all of the candles, which had long since burned away. Instead, the light seemed to be coming from the next room, or perhaps the room beyond that.

Crossing again the threshold, they found a room almost exactly identical to the last one, except someone had set it all on fire. Everything was ash: the rug, the polished wood floor, the paintings of something, the silverware cabinets and somehow the silverware as well.

"Honestly," Luna thought aloud, "I prefer this."

She swore she heard the wind chuckle at that, but put it down to either her hearing things or Rarity.

They reached the final door, certain that the orange light was coming from just beyond it. The door was heavy, made out of the same seemingly invincible wood as the entrance to the foot, which, on closer inspection, wasn't wood but metal painted to look like wood. It was badly scorched and its two circular handles were covered in a crust of ash. Luna pulled them open, the handles cracking within her magic, though not falling apart as she had anticipated.

She was met with a pony who couldn't have been anyone other than Ablazed Glory.

She was a corrupted alicorn, standing at seven feet tall - so shorter than Luna - with a slightly curved horn of two feet long. Her wings, outstretched, keeping her hovering in place, were feathered like Penumbra's, though shorter at only twelve feet wingspan. Her eyes did not have a visible pupil, rather a thin ring of scarlet surrounding a centre point, with both that and the sclera beyond the ring of identical colour. What set her apart from Luna and Penumbra, however, was the fact she was completely on fire. Whatever fur colour she had - if she even had fur - was completely covered by the constant fire. Her wings' feathers, somehow still staying on, were burning. Her mane was like a candle flame, flowing from her head like Luna's and coloured in a gradient from deep red to yellow. Even her eyes, save the ring of scarlet, were on fire, though their colour could partially be ascertained as the flames were smaller. The alicorn opened her mouth, revealing a mouth that was on fire, with a metre long, serpent-like tongue similarly on fire, with rows of serrated, burning, daggers of teeth.

"I," she said, voice echoing and apparently carried on the wind, "am Ablazed Glory."

Both Luna and Rarity stared, unable to comprehend how she could even function. Whilst Rarity looked on in horror and confusion, Luna thought about her insides: was she on fire within as well?

"Erm," Luna started, "we bring a message, from Emperor Nicholas."

Ablazed Glory laughed, causing small jets of flame to shoot from her mouth and nostrils. "Do you, now?"

Luna nodded. "He says: your Emperor's plan begins, and you will provide fuel for its fire."

Ablazed Glory was silent, save the constant sound of fire crackling and burning. "It begins?"

"Yes," Luna replied, "yes, it does."

"When he first told me," she said, "I didn't think the day would ever come. Soon is subjective after all, a millennia is soon for him. Truly, this is a day of rejoicing!"

She floated forwards, carried by a mixture of heat and her wings. Whilst Luna minded the heat, Rarity was endangered by it, she wheezed something, unable to speak, prompting Luna to pull her back with her magic.

"She is not like us," Luna said, "she cannot survive the heat."

Ablazed Glory nodded, "I will remain away," she said, "your friend will be better when we are outside anyway."

Sure enough, she was, the fresh, cooler air, as well as the vastness of the outside preventing her being trapped in an oven again. Ablazed Glory ordered Spike to follow, which the little dragon did obediently.

"I will take him to the town," she said to Luna, "he will be safe there, I am sure."

They walked along in relative silence, before Rarity spoke up, "may I ask." She drew the eye of Ablazed Glory. "When did you come here?"

Ablazed Glory chuckled, or, more accurately, the wind chuckled for her. "Some time ago," she said, "I do not remember exactly when. I was young."

"You do not seem young, no offence meant, of course."

"I am not," she said, "I arrived as a little one."

Rarity pondered for a moment. "But, this colony is not very old. Ponies had never left Equestria before a few months ago."

Ablazed Glory shrugged, which her floating allowed her to do without compromising her speed. "Time is not constant," she said, cryptically, before the group fell to silence again, the town slowly coming into view.

They heard the startled cry of the first pony to see them from a mile away. A group, made up of everyone in town, assembled at the town's edge, watching as the three ponies and one dragon arrived. Mayor Mare's jaw had dropped, looking somewhere between having seen a ghost and just received the biggest surprise in living history. The group parted as they got close, forced to do so by Ablazed Glory's intense heat. Only three ponies didn't part, three adolescents, the Guardians.

All three looked utterly shocked, but Scootaloo was perhaps most of all. "I've seen a lot of ponies go in search of her and not come back," she said, "every one of them had some reason, whether it was treasure hunting or just for the thrill. You're the first to ever return." She shook her head. "Last to ever return, too, I assume."

"Indeed," Ablazed Glory said, causing the townsfolk to similarly reel and wish for more, "I present you a parting gift." She gestured Spike forwards. "He served me faithfully, even when I had not asked him to. Take care of him, I do not need to tell you why."

The Guardians took in Spike, who waved Ablazed Glory goodbye as the floating, burning alicorn, Rarity and Luna with her, left the town. Apparently, the Leftenant and his Fusiliers had already left, leaving them with no way off the planet. Or, so they thought, as the three were suddenly wreathed in a black, shifting, fluid mass. When the mass subsided again, vanishing as quickly as it had left, they were on the Eater of Worlds, on the Spires' main landing platform. Everyone save Nicholas looked at Ablazed Glory with various levels of shock, though the Emperor simply stepped forwards and, planting his sword on the ground, kneeled to look her in the eyes.

"Ablazed Glory," he said, "will you fight?"

The burning alicorn smiled. "I will, my Emperor."

It was later in the day when Penumbra came up to Emperor Nicholas, who had lounged on a freakishly oversized bench, in the shade of a tree she had no idea as to the name of - a little like a strange cross between oak and cherry blossom. The corrupted alicorn had to fly up to sit next to him, but only wished to talk anyways, she couldn't quite relax yet, not after what she had been told.

"Rarity and Luna said you killed Shining Armour and Cadance."

Nicholas, eyes closed, nodded. "I did. They rebelled."

"I know," she said, "and I understand it. Even if he was my big brother."

She muttered something else under her breath, a line she remembered from somewhere, but didn't quite hold any meaning to her.

"And she was a friend."

She muttered another phrase, which seemed to hold some rhythm to it, but, again, the meaning was lost.

"What I want to know," she said, "is what happened to their daughter, because I want my theory to be wrong."

"Your perception," Nicholas said, still not even opening his eyes, "is perfect, as usual. When I entered their fort, I prepared to exact vengeance. My methods are brutal, some may even say cruel, but they are not done with malice. If I have to kill three to potentially save thousands in the future, I will do it. If I had to kill them to stop any future rebellion, I would do it." He paused a moment, in what seemed like reflection.

"Oathbreaker, my weapon, I thought its only purpose, its only desire, was to kill. I have had it for millennia, and it has served me faithfully, it has drank of the blood of many enemies and grown stronger because of it. But, when I slew the two parents, Oathbreaker seemed to feel off. Its runes darkened, its power seeming to fade from its killing edge. When I went to slay the child, Oathbreaker cut her skin, only to fill it with power." He laughed.

"I had not thought my weapon would be one for poetic justice. I burned her world, burned her new home and left nothing standing, so she would burn forevermore, but she would never die, she would never fall. There would always be something standing, always something burning." He paused again, opening his eyes and lifting the sword in front of them.

"I have killed countless with this," he said, "yet they were the only ones it ever judged me for.” He laughed again. "Funny, isn't it, how the sword was the one to save her?"

"So," Penumbra muttered, "Ablazed Glory is..."

"Was," Nicholas said, "she was. She is changed now. I recognised what Oathbreaker had intended and trained her, prepared her for this day inside of my Throne World, that is why she is an adult now, time is not constant everywhere. You, Penumbra, must rest. Enjoy the pleasures of the Eater of Worlds whilst you can, for tomorrow is the day."

"The day of what?" She asked, though she knew already.

"The day the finale begins."

XIX. The Edge

“It is unknown why the Emperor so loved obsidian. It was not simply a liking for its aesthetic, that much is certain from his usage and near reverence of the material. It was a representation of his power long before the Obsidian Crown, long before even the Obsidian Throne. It is said that his only Imperial regalia for over four centuries was an obsidian signet ring on his left forefinger, though the origin of this ring, and even its existence, is unknown.”

- Emperor Nicholas: His Icons by Charles Fulcrus -

Princess Luna watched the night go by from the watchtower. She watched as one star twinkled brightly, as if blinking at her, sending her a message. Which, of course, it was.

"My dearest Luna," it said, "my apologies I could not come to the Cryptum, Celestia has been becoming more and more suspicious. I know that she suspects something is down there, so I have ordered Azin and Tyak to hide everything that could be incriminating, including themselves. I am sorry I cannot spare any more soldiers to assist you, I have become preoccupied as of late. I do not know when I can visit again, but I shall make sure I do. Send my greetings to Sombra. And, if you can, tell him I am delighted with his contribution and that I have placed it in my Throne Room. Warmest regards, your friend and brother, Nicholas."

She smiled, glad in the knowledge her friend was still watching over her. She had prepared her own contribution for his next visit: a bracelet of obsidian she had mined herself, with the sapphire crystal she had created in her first experiment with alchemy attached. She kept it with her at all times, in case he visited, certain that she would give it to him one day, even if it took a thousand years.

Queen Luna had acted fast, her forces rising from the underground to the shock of the Solar Guard. Her own Night Guard, halfway through the changing of the guard, had practically exploded into action, taking the Solar Guard's most elite by surprise. Celestia's personal lieutenant, Captain Bright Dust, had been midway through the traditional speech a commander would give before their unit would relinquish their duties, before her head rolled on the parade ground, her most elite soldiers dead in seconds.

The now Queen's timing, however, had not been perfect. In truth, she would have preferred to have waited, but a sudden intrusion by the wretched court magician had forced her to release the attack order, in order to prevent her whole plan collapsing before it had even begun. A century of preparation had gone into making her plan perfect, with a time of attack that would have instantly destroyed all of her sister's military forces in one fell swoop. Now, her sister and a sizeable portion of her army had managed to flee, the court magician with them. Luna had brought about the Night to some of Equestria, though her army's hold only extended so far before it began to wane, with the new Queen painfully aware of resistance to her rule.

Her Elite Guard had crushed what few known supporters of Celestia remained in the capital, carting them off to the deepest, most forgotten parts of Canterlot's dungeons. Though, her Elite Guard were the only ponies she could fully trust in Canterlot, releasing them into Equestria would work in the short term, but be suicide in the long term. The second Celestia got wind of her most loyal departing the city, she would strike and Luna would be forced to rely upon those whose loyalty seemed to change very easily.

Tyak had left with a large force, made up of those Luna could partially trust, but whose abandonment of the cause would either not be missed or be easily dissuaded by the Tomb Guard. The court magician had somehow weaselled out of her grasp, no doubt using a number of his cheap party tricks to evade what few guards she could send after him. Though, the fate of Starswirl the Bearded did not matter, not in comparison to the fate of Celestia, whose forces had definitely suffered in their trek into the blizzards of the Crystal Mountains, but whose core remained alive. So long as Celestia herself was at large, Luna could not know peace.

She took court whenever it suited her, with several petitioners very quickly turning away upon the sight of her newest bodyguards, Qirin and Karavon, whose blades yet hungered for blood. The only thing that stopped her abandoning court altogether was the presence of one or two "gems" amongst the petitioners: those who made fantastic points or highlighted certain troublesome behaviours or practices to her, allowing her to issue crackdowns. It was these ponies, few as they may have been, which kept her feet firmly on the path to pony freedom.

"My Queen." The pony, clad in black robes, bowed before her. "I am sorry to concern you with second-hand information, but my cousin in Ponyville has told me she has seen a number of Celestia's agents in or around the Everfree forest for a number of nights in a row."

Luna's eyes widened. "Tell me everything she told you," she said, rising from her throne and stepping forwards, "rise, rise." She gestured the robed pony up. "Court is adjourned," she said to Qirin, who nodded and moved to lock the throne room's doors.

The two ponies, Karavon behind them, walked deeper into the castle as they spoke, "it started off with just one," the robed pony said, "a glimpse of a royal guard spear under a robe. But, every night she would see more and more. She lives at the edge of the Everfree forest, so she can see some distance into it from her window. Yesterday she told me she saw Solar Guard, not even wearing robes, seeming to be patrolling the forest or scouting the village. My sister is well known for her honesty, your highness, so I am inclined to believe her."

Luna looked the robed pony up and down, they were an earth pony with dark orange fur, nothing incredibly out of the ordinary, with a cutie mark of a pair of red apples, hidden by the robe Luna's corrupted sight could see through. They must have been of the Apple Clan, famed for their honesty and fantastic cider, which Luna had always been partial to a glass of in the summer. The pony showed no signs of magical tampering, hypnosis or otherwise, which would have led her to suspect Celestia was engineering a trap, and they were clearly not lying.

She placed a clawed foot onto their shoulder. "Thank you," she said, sincerely, "this information is more valuable to me than anything, you have done me, yourself and all of Equestria a great service. He will thank you for your service."

The robed pony nodded. "Just doing what's right," they said.

Luna smiled. "You did," she said, releasing their shoulder, "had this been under other circumstances, I would have showered you in rewards. However, I am afraid you must wait until I return, whereupon you and your cousin can consider themselves heroes of the Night.” She turned to a guardsmare. "Return them home," she said, "ensure they are comfortable, then prepare the city's defences."

Luna cantered back to the throne room. "Qirin," she yelled, "rally every soldier you can find. Karavon, rally the Elite Guard, every soldier of the Night, to me!"

She unlocked the throne room's doors with her magic and burst out of them into the full moon, spreading her massive, bat-like wings and taking flight. She hovered a few metres above Canterlot, taking in the view of Ponyville, the tiny village glowing faintly in the distance, and the Everfree forest, where her sister and her army was hidden.

Karavon emerged from the castle behind her, the bulk of Luna's Elite Guard, ponies of all types clad in full body, navy blue armour, flanks bearing the symbol of the moon, ringed in glowing, orange runic symbols. Their helmets all bore horns, or, for the unicorns, a cushioned metal surround, sharpened to a point. If they were pegasi or batponies, their wings had specially produced blades attached, whilst Earth ponies had their hooves covered in spikes. At their lead, were thirty ponies with helmets resembling those of the Tomb Guard, covering their entire face. Each was a unicorn, selected specially for their affinity with combat magic, though their hooves were spiked and they had synthetic wings attached to their backs, with blades so thin they could not be seen covering them. They were Luna's Companions, those who had been with her since the beginning.

Qirin stood below her, an army of other ponies with her, all wearing thinner navy blue metal armour, armed with everything from spears attached to saddles on their backs, swords they held in their mouths, crossbows they held in magic or just massive, dense boots on their hooves. Her Elite Guard numbered a thousand strong, with the soldiers Qirin had gathered from the Equestrian Army bolstering their numbers up to around six thousand. Whatever Celestia had was probably equal to that, but Luna's Elite Guard were more than a match for Celestia's Solar Guard, Qirin and Karavon were probably untouchable, with Luna herself more than a match for Celestia, let alone any of her troops.

"Karavon," she said, "contact Tyak, tell him to bring all of his forces to the Everfree forest, immediately."

The Tomb Guard nodded and closed his eyes, sending a message to his brother through a method Nicholas had promised to one day teach her. Qirin stepped forwards and spoke next, "why are we assembling?" He asked, not a hint of emotion in his voice.

Luna rose slightly, making her voice louder for all her soldiers to hear. "The Everfree forest harbours the traitor Celestia and those foolish enough to follow her, tonight, we strike her down. Tonight, we bring forth the Night to the whole of Equestria!"

Her soldiers cheered, with even members of the Elite Guard releasing a thunderous cry. She smiled at their eagerness. Mmarch," she called, "march, to Ponyville, go swiftly and in silence, we will strike upon my command."

Her soldiers cheered again, quieter this time, before beginning their march out of Canterlot. Normally, they would have been clearly visible under the full moon, but the Night protected her soldiers. Luna smiled again, he was watching over her, influencing in whatever way he could. They would arrive in Ponyville and Celestia would have no idea they had even left Canterlot.

She lit her horn, calling out to a dear old friend of hers.

"Sombra," she said, voice projected into the recipient's ears, as though she was right there next to him, "I have discovered Celestia. She is in the Everfree forest."

"I thought," Sombra's voice floated back, "that Tyak was searching for her in the mountains?"

"He was, but apparently she evaded him."

"He has many troops," Sombra said, "many troops who may not be able to reach you in time to help."

"I know," Luna admitted, "but, I have the element of surprise. He is watching."

Sombra was silent for a moment, before he elicited a small chuckle. "Well," he said, theatrically, "I believe it only right I join in the fun too. I will rally every soldier I can and come down to you. Just don't win without me." Luna could feel his smirk, laughing with him as their connection ended.

Though Queen Luna's forces had got the element of surprise, their advantage only lasted for a few minutes. The few of Celestia's troops around the edge of the forest were not the elite Solar Guard Luna had hoped for, instead they were a ragtag group of peasant ponies and the odd grey armoured soldier of the Equestrian Army amongst them. Though even Luna's regular soldiers easily dealt with them, they managed to get a message back to Celestia.

The sky ran purple, once a sign of twilight, now a sign something was very, very wrong. To Luna's horror, her moon, which had held pride of place in the sky for nearly a month, began to turn to the east, as though time was reversing. Exactly as she had suspected, Celestia's sun, far larger than it should have been, rose in its place. Day was beginning to break.

"Get into the forest," Luna yelled, to any soldier listening, "kill every one of the traitors. I will deal with the sun."

She concentrated as much magic as she could into her moon, pushing hard against Celestia to set her sun and rise her moon. The two alicorns became locked in a magical duel far above the surface, creating an illusion of twilight on the surface. Suddenly, Celestia completely gave way, allowing Luna to return her full moon to its rightful place in the sky. She marvelled at the magnificent pearl above her and revelled in her triumph over her sister.

"My Queen," a wounded pegasus, one of her Elite Guard but missing half of her armour, yelled as she galloped at full speed out of the trees, "it's Celestia, she's on the field."

Celestia hadn't given way, she had let go, putting her magic to more practical use instead. Luna did so too, if her sister would try and trick her like that, she would taste the bite of her talons. Her whole body seemed to flare to life, Nicholas granting her a boon at the expense of his own power. She took flight, wings crackling with energy, and sped towards where she knew her sister to be. Celestia was many things and predictable was surely one of them.

Sure enough, right in the thick of the fighting, battling directly with Luna's Elite Guard, was Celestia. She held Daybringer in her golden magic aura, the flaming sword barely being blocked by a group of Luna's Companions. Luna's army separated as she landed with a crash and a burst of lightning overhead, the sky slowly turning to purple from its previous deep blue. Her talons reflexively cut at the dirt, magic flowing through them, before she yelled out her challenge.

"Celestia," her voice thundered and echoed in the clearing, "I've come for you."

Luna's Companions pulled back the second she launched herself forwards. Celestia barely had the time to register her sword was cutting only air before, with a flash of talons, Luna slammed into her, throwing her backwards.

Celestia landed surprisingly gracefully, spinning to bring Daybringer forwards into a guard. "Sister," she said, making a vain and clearly forced attempt at a plea, "end this, now. I have no wish to fight you."

Luna laughed, her Companions and Elite Guard peeling off to battle Celestia's own Solar Guard. She knew as well as Celestia did that the latter was losing. Celestia's plea was less of a desire for peace and more to save her own skin.

She answered it with another attack, launching forwards before pushing upwards to attack from above. Celestia brought Daybringer up just in time to save herself from decapitation, managing to catch Luna's talons only a few inches from her neck. Rather than retreat for another assault, the corrupted alicorn pushed, using her wings and the pull of gravity to force Daybringer slowly downwards. Previously, Celestia had been the stronger sister, though Luna's corruption had granted her a strength Celestia couldn't hope to match.

Luna's talons only needed to touch Celestia's flesh to breach it, the skin burning away and being filled with corruption like a venom. Celestia felt the black poison running through the arteries in her neck, sapping strength from her muscles and feeding it to Luna. Celestia summoned what power she could from her Sun to counteract it, pushing the talons from her neck and back into the air. With a roar and a burst of strength, Celestia hauled Luna off of her, throwing her as far back as she could.

Doing so gave her a few seconds, but only really seemed to enrage Luna more. The poison that ran through felt like fire burning through her, draining her strength out of sheer pain alone. She lost a second before she noticed Luna charge again, again bringing up Daybringer just in time. She was saved, for the time being, but her slow reaction cost her something else.

Daybringer shattered, its blade fizzling as it felt to the floor in two pieces and its handle cracking in Celestia's magical grip. Only an explosion of magic that came from it saved her life, throwing both her and Luna in opposite directions. Fortunately, Celestia had been thrown further into her own lines, allowing her the time to be helped up by a pair of subourdinates and to retreat deeper into the forest, towards the weapons she hadn't wished to use yet.

Luna noticed Celestia's retreat, but refrained from chasing when an unmistakable horn echoed across the battlefield. She felt a pair of presences, Tyak and Sombra, enter about a mile across from her, trapping Celestia and her troops in a pincer movement. Her own Companions, fresh from tearing a hole into the Solar Guard, rallied behind her, Qirin and Azin joining with them, their swords stained with blood.

"Our reinforcements have arrived," said Azin, almost happily, if such an emotion was possible in a Tomb Guard, "the traitor is trapped and sure to fall."

Luna laughed. "We must maintain our guard," she said, "until we are certain we have won."

Qirin and Azin both nodded, charging into the fading darkness of the forest, a unit of Elite Guard charging with them. Above, it looked like dawn, with the sun somehow coming out once again.

Luna cursed. "She must have used a passive spell." She turned to one of her Companions, who nodded in affirmation. "No matter, once she is in chains I will work to reverse it."

Celestia had made her way into the very heart of the forest, where her Solar Guard had fortified the heaviest. She told her warriors to keep watch outside, to alert her only if they saw Luna's soldiers, whilst she descended into the cave which held her most secret weapon.

Luna knew about the elements of harmony, everypony did, but where their knowledge and Celestia's differed was on their location, overall power and how to use them. Starswirl the Bearded, before his retreat to who knows where, had informed her of everything he could gather about them. Luna had fallen right into Celestia's trap. Though Celestia herself had hoped for a more opportune time, now was as good a time as any. The strangest thing Starswirl had told her was how to activate the elements, for only a suitable quantity of power would awake them from their dormant state. She had tried everything before, from her own magic reserves to those held in the sun, but nothing had been enough. Eventually, after days of hiding out in the mountains, watching the Darkness' minions hunt her relentlessly, she had realised what power she would need. Not Equestrian magic, but corruption. Only the Darkness could awaken the elements.

She held the shard of Daybringer's handle to her foreleg and cut, releasing first a thin, yellowish, watery substance, then a black and cyan jelly. The blob on her leg grew and grew until gravity took over and it fell onto the roots of the tree before her. She continued pushing out the black gunk, feeding more and more of it to the tree, which slowly turned black from its original ashen white. The elements of harmony, the real elements of harmony, appeared on the tree's branches. She grasped them in her magic and pulled them down to her, pressing hard on her bleeding foreleg with its fellow. There were six triangular crystals, each a different colour, which fit to form a disc of a ten inch radius and a one inch thickness.

Her magical grip on them failed, as the elements overrode her control. They hovered just slightly over the edge of her horn, where she could control their actions with only her thoughts. Unfortunately, in their current state, the elements were very crude. They only had two settings: shooting and not shooting, but they would suffice to achieve her goals.

"Princess," one of the Solar Guard outside yelled, "we have incoming, from the north!"

The minion of the Darkness, who had hunted her in the mountains, where, half frozen, she had realised the secrets to the elements, came thundering out of the trees to her north. Her guards were swept aside with ease, even braced as they were, the minion roaring as it cut apart her most loyal ponies. Eventually, only one guard of the initial thirty remained, with the minion grasping them by the head and lifting them up to its monstrous face.

"Where is the traitor?" It growled. "I can smell her. I feel her presence like a burning on my skin. Where is she hiding?"

"I am not hiding," Celestia declared, standing as regally as she could on a wounded leg.

The minion almost seemed to smile, before crushing the pony's skull absentmindedly as it turned to face her. "I am Tyak, the Hated, many of your kind have fallen to my blade. Now, your skull shall adorn my helmet, traitor."

Celestia would have recoiled at the hideousness of the creature, but with the elements at her command, she had no fear or horror in her heart, only a burning desire for vengeance. "No, creature," she spat, "you shall die before you even reach me."

Tyak roared and charged, two hands clutching its ready sword, its blade hungry for her blood. Celestia focused, letting the elements simply respond to her wish. A beam of rainbow light shot from the disc's centre, impacting Tyak and driving a whole straight through its thorax. The Tomb Guard stopped in its tracks, before the burning light of its eyes faded and its body collapsed into dust, leaving only a battered, black bone helmet on the ground.

Though Celestia could not feel it, Tyak's soul had not simply vanished, instead it had sent out a pulse, a cry wishing for vengeance, before vanishing into the ether. Tyak's brothers, Luna and Sombra all felt it, even Luna's Companions stopped and focused on where it had come from.

Qirin roared out, "you will be avenged! On all my eyes I swear it!"

Karavon did not speak, but his eyes burned even brighter and orange runes across his sword glowed. The Tomb Guard did not even growl, but its body shook with rage and a desire to kill.

Azin stepped forwards from behind Luna. "Lady Luna, let us end this, now."

Luna, teeth clenched, eyes and mane practically aflame, spread her wings and burst out of the trees, flying like a missile to the clearing where Tyak had fallen. She crashed to the ground like a meteor, facing Celestia with murder in her eyes.

"You!" She yelled, the plants around her withering and the soil becoming black and ash-like.

"I will not allow this corruption to spread any further," Celestia said, "the taint has overtaken you completely."

Luna growled. "I was going to capture you," she barked, "now I think I'll eat you alive, right here." She snarled, baring vicious white daggers of teeth, her long, serpentine tongue seeming to desire greatly the taste of blood.

Celestia shook her head. "I am sorry Luna," she mumbled, before straightening up. "You took my sister," she yelled, "your corruption ends now!"

The elements of harmony fired, with Luna throwing up a shield of writhing black and cyan corruption to defend herself. As the elements' energy wrapped around her, so too did her shield, forming a bubble that lashed out against the magic of the elements and anything around itself. Luna's breathing quickened and her snarls turned into ear-piercing screeches, the corruption within her warping her mind and body as it tried so desperately to defend her. She was sacrificing her own life force to fight against Celestia.

The beam increased in intensity, Celestia pouring her own magic into it, everything she had feeding its power. Like her sister, Celestia too was giving her own life as fuel, everything from the corruption in her blood to the light of her sun was being pushed into gaining even the slightest edge over Luna, though Celestia knew that whatever was inside that shield was not her sister anymore.

Luna's shield began to shrink, as did Luna herself. Her skin flaked off and was absorbed by the darkness around her, before tendrils made of her blood began to bolster it, practically stringing her up. Her eyes became heavy as their light faded, with her mane collapsing onto her body as its magic was eaten. Her only thoughts were of holding on, if she could hold on, she could be helped. Celestia would be defenceless, Azin or Qirin or Karavon or Sombra or anypony could kill her and Luna would be safe. She could recover.

But nobody came.

Luna screeched as a thin beam of the elements' power struck her, burning away at her skin as it melted her armour. The beam became larger, as her shield began to collapse, her magic automatically prioritising healing her over the shield. Luna's shield collapsed, her only chance of defence melting away, ironically, as her body attempted to defend itself. Her fur burned, her skin and flesh melted and what little of her blood remained in her body began to boil. Mercifully, the world collapsed out from under her and her torment ended.

The elements of harmony had given their all, but when the dust settled, Luna was gone, not even armour remained, only a small black bracelet - though it could have just been a stone. Celestia sighed in relief, before collapsing to the ground, her mane pink and no longer afloat. She had put almost everything she had into the elements, she looked as she did when she was a teenager, though with far more wounds and far less colour to her. She was unconscious within a second.

To the horror of Luna's soldiers, their Tomb Guard leaders had simply vanished. One second, Qirin was decapitating a Solar Guard, the next second he was gone, the Guard's head half off, screaming for help before he collapsed down dead. The Elite Guard found themselves leaderless and in their confusion were battered upon relentlessly by the Solar Guard. Their Equestrian Army comrades deserted within moments, some turning to fight the Elite Guard. Luna's most elite fighting force found themselves leaderless, trapped and confused, with only thirteen of Luna's Companions remaining, the other seventeen lying dead on the ground, their horns having exploded when the Tomb Guard vanished.

Thankfully, one of their number, a pegasus, yelled out, "to King Sombra, defend King Sombra!"

The nearly eight hundred strong guard force broke off their engagement, running north to encounter Sombra, who stood over eight Solar Guard bodies, his sword drowned in blood, his guards nowhere to be seen.

"My King," one of the Elite Guard said, "you must retreat to the Crystal Empire."

Sombra shook his head. "I will die here if I must," he said, "but this battle will be ours. At the very least, Celestia will die."

One of Luna's Companions, famously silent, stepped out from the group. "No," she said, drawing shocked eyes except those of her fellow Companions, who joined her. "You must flee," they all said in unison, "enough has been lost this day. Let us not lose everything."

Sombra's jaw trembled, he bowed, recognising who was really speaking, "yes, my Emperor."

The Elite Guard turned, Solar Guard and Equestrian Army ponies just beyond the trees. "Companions," a pegasus yelled, "take King Sombra north, we shall hold off the enemy as long as we can."

A single tear ran down the face of King Sombra. "You will not be forgotten," he whispered, "and you will all be avenged, I promise you."

As Solar Guard burst through the trees, slamming into the Elite Guard, who fought with a ferocity that shocked even Sombra, the King nodded, holding back a sob, and ran. "I promise you."

Luna awoke with a start, a cold sweat formed on her brow. Through the thin crack in the curtains of her window, she could see thin rays of starlight, reminding her she was no longer in Equestria. She shuffled quietly from the bed, taking care not to awake her companion, whose blissful expression couldn't help but make her crack a smile. She opened the golden door slowly, before closing it softly behind her, being greeted by a pair of Praetorians who had stood guard by it and another, a new arrival, with a bow slung on her back.

"Nicholas wants to see you," she said, "top of the central Spire, some point in the next hour."

Luna nodded, still shaking off sleep. "I'll be there soon."

The Praetorian nodded and left, no doubt returning to some other important duty. Luna turned to the two by her door, who both held long rifles. "Do you know where the washrooms are?" She asked, rubbing her eyes with the fur of her foot.

One nodded, pointing down the gilded hallway with a thumb. "First door on your left."

Luna nodded, thanked the Praetorian and shuffled over to the washroom, intending to wash off her sleep before meeting with the Emperor.

"Sombra's dead?" She laughed, "good one. Though I'd recommend you keep it more realistic next time."

The halls of the Eater of Worlds were overly long, though Luna's own journey to the Spire wouldn't take too long, fortunately. She passed a small number of Praetorians, patrolling casually, and a pair of Spire Guard, standing to attention like statues at the base of the stairs up the Spire. She didn't bother to nod or attempt to communicate in any way.

"You should have let her live," she sobbed, "I wanted to be the one. I wanted to be the one to avenge my friends."

The spiralling staircase was bland, which, considering it was made almost entirely of gold and marble, was an achievement in itself. She passed only a few on her way up it, including one Spire Guard, rifle in hand, who nodded to her before vanishing down the stairs.

"She took everything from me," she snarled, "if she was here, I would take her blood as wine and her heart as a meal."

Her head pulsed, like her brain was going to burst out of her ears at any second. Memories flashed when her eyes were closed, some even bleeding into the real world, making her shake dizzily. Mercifully, she was nearly at the summit, so managed to pull herself up the last few stairs with her wings and into the meeting room before landing on a chair with a thud, her head slamming into the table, a groan escaping her lips.

"Even in death," she lamented, "she still haunts me."

"Luna?" Penumbra shook her slightly, "Luna, are you alright?"

Luna awoke with a snarl, baring fangs and serpentine tongue at Penumbra, eyes glowing with hatred, before she realised her mistake and pulled back, eyes fading back to their usual. "I'm sorry," she said, clutching her head with her right foot, "my dreams are heavy."

"They shall be," Nicholas said, standing his full fifty feet tall, towering over the meeting room's table, voice echoing, "we have transferred to Cradle whilst you were asleep, the portals to the Veiled Edge are, even deactivated, enabling a partial connection to that dimension. The pain of your dreams comes from the Veiled Mother, who only a few hours ago was killed by forces I had deployed there months earlier. We are now perfectly positioned for a full strike against the Great Light. In a few hours, I shall tear a path into the Aether, and the last battle will begin."

"The last battle?" She asked, at first with disbelief, then realisation dawned on her, "so, we're finally here?"

Nicholas nodded. "Yes, we are. I have had Queen Chrysalis gather up every Changeling able to fight, several members of the Shadow of Sundered Star have sent out calls all across the Empire, rallying every soldier who is willing and able. We need only gather up everyone on the Eater of Worlds and enter the portals, there I shall gather up everyone who will not have rallied already and breach the Aether."

"Who will follow us through the portals?" Lotan asked, "just Chrysalis?"

"No," Nicholas answered, smiling slightly, "Cecilia, Neveron, Belial and Kyhron are already waiting there too, as is Ablazed Glory."

"Cecilia?" Lilith rose, before smiling. "It will be good to see her again."

A pair of Tomb Guard with red armour entered, flanking a white mare with a flawlessly styled coat and mane, her armour polished to a shine. "My Lord," one said, "Lady Rarity, as requested."

Nicholas beckoned her in, floating her out a seat next to Luna. "Rally everyone in court. They shall be the first unto the breach."

The Tomb Guard bowed. "Even the blighted ones?"

"Yes, even them. Though keep them away from the mortals, have them brought in once I have opened the way."

The Tomb Guard nodded and both filed out, leaving the room silent for a moment.

"So," Rainbow spoke up, clearly impatient, "are we going, or what?"

Nicholas nodded. "We shall make our descent to the surface in a moment. Though, I must warn you all, once we enter the Veiled Edge, you will see, hear and feel a lot of things you won't like, but there is no going back once you have crossed the threshold of that portal."

When they landed, they were greeted by an army of Changelings, Queen Chrysalis at their head, bowing as Nicholas folded up his wings onto his back, the dropships landing behind him.

"I have gathered everyone I can," she said, "all are ready and willing."

Nicholas nodded. "You have done well."

To the east of the block of Changelings lay thousands of Tomb Guard. Most had red armour, though some had a more yellowish-beige colour, with splotches of the front few ranks having a light blue and only three having night black. Miles behind the front rank, torso upwards visible, stood what Nicholas identified as a Blight Lord, looking similar to the Tomb Guard though with flesh a mixture of black and cyan swirling about, with a swollen and tumourous head, with at least nine glowing eyes barely distinguishable from the rest of its corrupted flesh. Flanking it were a pair of constructs similar in overall appearance to a particularly large Strategos Class, though with a number of small cyan eyes of varying size set into their upper segment and seemingly composed out of a relatively random mish-mash of assorted machinery, forming a gradient of colour from glowing bright cyan at the bottom to pitch black at the top. Even though they seemed like a collection of junk, they were clearly surprisingly well armed, with everything from pulse guns attached to glowing cables to artillery cannons and ship-bourne weaponry.

Two Tomb Guard stood with Chrysalis, one the size of a regular Tomb Guard, the other well over 9 metres tall, his armour looking as though it was resting on magma just below it.

"My Lord," the largest said, voice crackling like a fire, "all of court has arrived, the Soulless are beginning to hunger."

"They will have plenty to feast on soon," Nicholas replied, "we are ready to begin. Arrok, gather the Cult of the Deep, they shall accompany us through the barrier."

Arrok nodded, turning and marching to the block of other, smaller, Tomb Guard. He spoke to one of those in light blue armour, who in turn lifted his sword and stepped forwards. The rest of those in blue, a hundred or so in all, stepped forwards as well, following Arrok forwards towards Chrysalis.

Penumbra surveyed the army laid out in front of her, there were more soldiers than she had expected, Tomb Guard especially, but she had expected more Fusiliers, with not one of the white armoured infantry in sight. Still, it was an impressive display, which became even more impressive when she took flight, attempting to see the end of the block of Tomb Guard. All the way east, though pocked with Blight Lords, Engines of Malice and several larger of their number, were Tomb Guard. Not a patch of ground lay uncovered, just an army that seemed to go on forever. Nicholas rose with her, levitating those who could not fly and followed by those who could. He hovered forwards, commanding silence with just his presence.

"Today," he bellowed, voice carrying miles, "we stand on the precipice of the end. Today, we march into the Veiled Edge. Today, we cut through the barrier. Today, we attack the Aether. Today, the long awaited day is finally upon us. The War in Heaven will finally end."

As one, the Tomb Guard roared, a bellow that seemed to rock the sky, before silencing as Nicholas raised his sword.

"Children, upon my signal, you will tear at the Aether until all of heaven shakes with pain."

The group descended, turning back to the portal controls. "Come," Nicholas said, leading the way, "we move quickly."

The portals themselves were large, enough to fit Nicholas stood at his full height into one. Though, he paused before the one of the seven he had chosen, Ablazed Glory, stood behind him, pausing too.

"You must be careful," he said, "the Veiled Mother rages at her confines, my warriors have trapped her in a death loop, where she cannot physically harm us. But, you must not allow her rages to get the better of you. No matter what visions you see, focus on walking straight forwards, do not divert from the path. Once the barrier is open, the Veiled Mother will not harm your mind any longer."

Without another word, he stepped forwards, vanishing through the thin, white membrane of the portal. Ablazed Glory, the Cult of the Deep, Arrok, Penumbra, Chrysalis, Rainbow, Rarity and Luna followed through their various portals, opening their eyes to see a land that was somehow wrong, with a white wall of infinite height and length a mile or so ahead.

"Twilight," Pinkie Pie called out, hesitantly, voice wavering and cracking as she did, "Applejack? Fluttershy? Anypony? Please, help me."

Nicholas, Arrok and the Cult of the Deep right behind him, surged forwards, ignoring the innumerable voices that tried to convince him to abandon his task. He recognised many, old friends or otherwise trying to psych him into falling back. His soul, so corrupted as it was, delighted in their suffering, it fed him power; the Veiled Mother's vain lashing out was making him even stronger.

"Oh Faust," a mare cried, head in her hooves, "oh Faust!" A horrible, constant roar slowly approached her, a reddish-purple light filling her window and room. "Please, Faust. Please." Her voice left her, her throat only making hoarse sobs.

Ablazed Glory grabbed Penumbra, the sensation of burning fur bringing her back to the real world - or whatever the Veiled Edge was. "Come on," the burning alicorn shouted, "we need to push forwards."

The corrupted alicorn, half lay on the ground, nodded and rose. Ablazed Glory waved her forwards, trudging through what looked and felt like pure black, wet mud, that went up to about half way up her shins. Penumbra, being far taller, was able to push through faster, catching up to the blazing alicorn, who seemed almost absent from her surroundings.

"Just keep pushing," she mumbled, "they aren't real. Just keep pushing."

"Get back you monster," Shining Armour yelled, throwing a bolt of magic at Nicholas, who grabbed it in his claws. He held it for a moment, before it turned to a corrupted, writhing black and he threw it back, melting the unicorn's forelegs and throwing him backwards. To the pony's credit, he still continued to fight, or, at least, tried to.

"I am Ablazed Glory," she mumbled, fire increasing twofold, "I am Ablazed Glory."

"Shining!" Cadence yelled in horror, dashing to her husband from her hiding spot, attempting to shield him as best she could. "Please," she cried, "don't hurt him, don't hurt him."

Penumbra felt herself sinking, with the barrier so far away. It took her a minute to notice she had stopped moving, with Ablazed Glory's light the only thing allowing her to recognise it.

"The corruption within will eat him alive," Nicholas said, bearing forth Oathbreaker, "truly, it is kinder if you die."

Penumbra yelled something, before she felt her mouth filling with the thick liquid that not long early was at her feet. She tried to yell again, though her mouth and throat was completely clogged. She tried to rise out, managing to do so slightly.

"The child," Nicholas said, "where is the child?"

The dark liquid was up to her eyes, with Penumbra resigning herself to fate.

Cadence didn't even have time to scream, but the child did, giving away its location. Nicholas turned, seeing it through the fake wall. He took one step before driving his sword through it.

All around her was darkness.

Shining Armour, slowly melting, a burning poison spreading through him, watched helplessly as his child fell silent, Nicholas sword rammed straight into her hiding place. He watched on in horror JOY as Nicholas roared out.

There was nothing.

The corruption PLEASURE had engulfed his brain, warping FREEING it for whatever purpose. He cried out REJOICED in pain LOVE as the last of his body was eaten UNSHACKLED by the poison DESIRE.

Suddenly, there was something.

A grey, chitinous fist, arm above clad in light blue, bone-like armour, grasped her foreleg and heaved. With strength she could not even imagine, she was lifted from the infinite depths, breaking out of the surface with a heaving gasp. The Tomb Guard who had grasped her wrapped his arm around her, before thundering forwards, aiming to rejoin his brothers.

"Repeat," he said, "'I am Penumbra.'"

"I am Penumbra."

"Keep going."

"I am Penumbra. I am Penumbra."

The Tomb Guard marched her up to Nicholas, through ranks of his brethren. Ablazed Glory stood to his left, burning far brighter than she had on Cradle. Luna stood at his right, Rarity on her back, the white unicorn unconscious but still breathing. Chrysalis was sat on her haunches, breathing heavily and rhythmically, with Rainbow next to her, the PHALANX pegasus holding close to Arrok, who provided an ideal anchor. The Tomb Guard lay Penumbra down, just behind Nicholas, keeping a hold of her whilst the Emperor was occupied, his hands pressed as flat as they could go against the barrier.

Though the ponies couldn't see it, Nicholas' power was all over him. His soul, adept at multi-tasking, was carrying out hundreds of taxing tasks all at once, from cracking the barrier to reaching out into the Rift and Dimensional Tract, attracting allies new and old.

It took him a minute to finish the secondary tasks, before he recouped his power once again to focus on the main objective. Tendrils and clouds of black and cyan energy rolled over his form, released from his eyes, the energy focused on his claws, which glowed as more and more energy was funnelled into them. The detonation was silent, but its force was enough to be felt in the material world. The visions plaguing the ponies all vanished in an instant.

The barrier opened, only a pair of tiny pinpricks at first, but expanding wider and wider every second. Within five, a space large enough to fit Emperor Nicholas had formed, after another five, a space large enough to comfortably fit a battleship.

Thus, the Cult of the Deep fulfilled their duties, charging forwards into the small groups of Daemons that lay beyond, carving out a space for Imperial forces to deploy.

"Come," Nicholas said, "we advance. Arrok, order Queen Chrysalis' Changelings and the Blood of Luna to enter, I have allies arriving soon."

The titan Arrok nodded, sending out a partially audible psionic message to the Changeling morphs beyond the portal, who led their soldiers in within seconds, Azin, Qirin and Karavon following shortly behind the first Changelings.

As if on cue, a pair appeared. One was small, young looking, with shoulder length white hair tied back by a pair of red pins. He wore a white shirt over a low slung black vest, with black, wide legged shorts held up by crimson suspenders over his shoulders. He looked about, confused, blinking with his grey-red eyes in a new light, hands flexing on a pair of wooden handled, polished knives. His fellow was far larger, standing about five metres in height, with a large build clad almost completely in black power armour. His face was far gruffer than that of his practically tiny fellow, with buzzcut black hair on his dark head, covered in old scars. His brown eyes looked about for something, whilst his hands firmly grasped the thin metal handle of his enormous red bladed scythe.

"Haisan, Ar'Aknos," Nicholas said, holding out his arms in welcome, "it is good you have returned."

Haisan, the smaller of the two, swallowed, looking first at Nicholas, then at Ar'Aknos, before beginning to cry. His fellow, Ar'Aknos, looked at the Emperor, then his companion, before a joyous smile broke out on his previously stoic face. "One last service." Ar'Aknos chuckled, bearing the unmistakable voice of a soldier. "It is good to see you again, Nicholas."

"Likewise for the both of you," Nicholas said, "it took me some time to work out the specifics of that ability, fortunately I got them correct."

"Indeed." Ar'Aknos cradled the young-looking man, who hugged him like a father. "It seems Haisan hadn't expected to see either of us again."

Nicholas nodded. "I wouldn't have bet on it if I was him," he said, "not knowing what I do, of course."

Behind the two emerged three blue figures. Both stood on two legs, with two arms, a body and a head, just like Haisan and Ar'Aknos, though that was about where their similarities ended. They appeared to be composed entirely of energy, though they could still be touched and looked relatively solid. Their bodies were marked with jagged edges, with their left arms shaped like blades, their right disconnected from the rest of them about halfway down its length, though still moving just like a normal arm would. They had one 'eye', in the approximate shape of a diamond, though its only difference from the rest of their heads being that it was coloured white rather than blue. Their 'mouth', if it could be called that, was similar, no changes aside from a very jagged approximation of a wide diamond, coloured white rather than blue.

"It has begun?" One of them said, though which one it was couldn't quite be determined, as all three appeared to make sudden, glitching movements, accompanied by fizzling body mass and electronic screeches.

"Yes," Nicholas said, "now is the time to fight."

"Very well," all three said, before vanishing again, appearing beyond the barrier, slicing through what few daemons were left. The three quickly became ten, then thirty, then eighty, then one hundred. More and more of the figures, all identical save small differences in size, began to appear, fighting alongside the Tomb Guard, the Changelings setting up in positions behind them.

Another figure appeared, carried aloft by four blood red tentacle-like appendages on his back, snow-white hair covered most of his face and his clothes had an authoritative, militaristic flair to them, even worn and battered as they were. Both Ar'Aknos and Haisan reacted with immediate hostility, the latter launching himself at him, causing Nicholas to grab him in a ring of shadow and pull him back.

Duke Alastair Thana, the most reviled traitor in Imperial history, shook his hair from his face, revealing grey eyes and a gaunt face, with skin that looked unhealthy devoid of light. "So," he said, "it's time?"

Nicholas nodded at his past killer, who gave a short chuckle. "Well," the traitor said, "time to get to work I suppose."

Haisan had gone a sick white, his eyes shifting to a deeper red, the desire to kill causing his whole body to shake. "Why," he questioned, through gritted teeth, "is he here?"

Alastair stepped forwards. "I was, and still am, many things," he said, calmly, "what I am not, is a liar. I admit when I am wrong and have made mistakes. Though Emperor Nicholas and I disagree on many things, I can say that he was right. Though I may oppose his methods, I do not oppose his ends. I know he is right, just not in the way you do."

Haisan seemed to relax, still eyeing Thana with hatred but no longer on a knife's edge. Ar'Aknos, meanwhile, had calmed, content that Emperor Nicholas knew what he was doing.

Nicholas and his group stepped across the barrier, touching the completely flat, white expanse of the Aether for the first time. The ground felt like the fields of Equestria, though had no grass and no dirt either, just an expanse of something white that they could stand on.

"Open the portals," Nicholas said, apparently speaking with someone outside, "bring in ships and soldiers. Every vessel, soldier and machine you can rally, our invasion begins now."

The Changelings finished entering, though the entrances did not cease altogether, with Changelings being replaced by Tomb Guard. Upon passing Emperor Nicholas and his retinue, they charged forwards, filling up the ever expanding line of troops that was securing the Imperial landing zone.

A portal opened overhead, barely visible against the backdrop of mostly white in the Aether, a Truth class light cruiser tentatively passing through it. It was followed, a few kilometres to its left, by another cruiser, then another a few kilometres to the right. Within an hour, dozens of cruisers were overhead, firing their plasma lances and various other cannons into the daemons, assisting the thick line of hundreds of thousands, if not far more, Tomb Guard. One cruiser had landed, disgorging nearly twenty thousand troops and several thousand tanks and other vehicles.

Fighters swarmed overhead, based from cruisers, as the line of Tomb Guard thinned it was quickly joined by Fusiliers, then by tanks. Artillery fire lit up the otherwise mostly blank sky, rockets flew beyond the line and warriors from thousands of species prepared themselves.

Amongst them, in increasing numbers, were soldiers clad in clothing little better than khaki cloth, with gunmetal grey steel helmets, like an upside down bowl with a few inches wide lip on their heads, the odd few wearing a gas mask. Some wore beige haversacks over their fronts, with leather belts and webbing holding ammo pouches, grenades and canteens. Their brown leather boots were covered above the ankle by wraps of cloth that extended up to the knees.

"Who are they?" Penumbra pointed them out to Nicholas, internally hoping they either weren't soldiers or just hiding something incredible.

"Planetary Militia," Nicholas said, "volunteers from planetary defence forces."

"Why do they look so...?"

"Poorly equipped? Because they are. They've only got one thing going for them and that's courage, and I'd rather have one Militia soldier with a bucket load of courage than a Tomb Guard, for sure."

Amongst the Militia was an officer, wearing a black overcoat and a peaked with red, polished badge. "If any volunteer wishes to turn back, then they must do so now, I will not hold it against you, nobody will."

No one turned.

The officer nodded, a look of pride on his face. "Ready for march to the front."

His soldiers rose, shouldering their rifles and checking their gear one final time.

"Battalion, forwards march!"

XXI. The Citadel

“The Emperor never considered lives spent in the pursuit of a goal wasted. ‘A life is worth nothing, deeds last forever’.”

- Collected Sayings of Emperor Nicholas by Nadius Marius -

The Imperial advance had not halted since it began, though its cost in lives had been heavy. For miles lay the uncollected dead, personnel moving them as quickly as they could, though the immense number had completely overwhelmed even the efficiency of the Imperial system. The first waves to land had been given the order to push forwards, and to keep pushing, though both they and their commanders were long dead. All that remained of the first wave were the blue figures of the Wanderers, who had been joined by a thousand or so more of their kind, along with Qirin, Azin, Karavon and a handful of the Cult of the Deep Tomb Guard.

A multitude of command facilities had been established inside the Imperial held zone, with the largest being at the site of the initial Imperial entrance into the Aether, on the border between it and the Veiled Edge. Nicholas had gathered everyone who would stand a chance at fighting, from Queen Chrysalis to former Sentinel-General of the Black Guard Cecilia.

"Oh my, darling," Rarity had whispered, "just look at her outfit, and her hair! Oh, it's magnificent! Less a person, more a work of art."

Cecilia wore what was essentially a dress, covering a small and delicate figure - though closer inspection revealed her to be essentially purely made of lean muscle - for someone in charge of one of Nicholas' Guard forces, apparently made of black silk, with various silver patterns embroidered onto it, with puffed up shoulders and sleeves cut to look like feathers, which extended to the bottom of her wrists, with black elbow gloves covering the rest of her arms and hands. It extended to just below her knees, with two slits on either side of her hips to allow for more freedom of movement, as Rarity assumed the dress was far sturdier than it first appeared. Her legs were covered either by tights, likely designed to keep her warm, or leather boots that terminated slightly above where the dress did. Her snow white hair fell to just below her chin, with a thin, black strap crossing the peak of her skull, part of the blindfold that covered her whole face above her small, rounded nose.

She conversed with the Emperor, who had to kneel to reach her, though he did so without hesitation when he saw her. She held her sword, a longsword with a pearly white blade and crossguard made up of a horizontal bar about six inches long on either end, then a pair of L-shaped bars at right angles, creating a relative surround of the beige leather handle, the vertical parts of the L-shaped bars ending about eight inches from the pommel, which was clearly designed for battle rather than for show.

"Wait a minute," Rainbow thought aloud, "if she's wearing a blindfold, how does she see?"

Rarity paused a moment, perhaps everything she had seen and experienced since she left Equestria had gotten to her, because she hadn't even considered Cecilia's vision, or how she knew where she was going at all. She looked about as though she could see just fine, almost as though she could see slightly before something happened, though her eyes, or where her eyes should be, were covered.

"Maybe she uses another method?" Luna said, "hearing, or smell perhaps?"

Their conversation ended, Nicholas led Cecilia over to the group, who were arranged in a mismatched formation, doing a number of different things that could all be described as lazing around. "This," he said, "as you may know, is Cecilia, The First. I will have her known by no other title."

"I don't mean to be rude," Rarity spoke up, Cecilia doing the unnerving thing of looking at her just before she spoke, "but who exactly is she? As in, what does she do?"

Before Nicholas could answer, Cecilia did, her voice oddly soothing, "I was once the Emperor's personal bodyguard and leader of the Black Guard of Irenton - once the greatest and most stalwart of all the Emperor's hosts. Though the Black Guard are gone, I live on."

"How do you see?" Rainbow asked, without any of the politeness or tact Rarity had used, "also, why are you wearing a dress if you were the Emperor's bodyguard?"

"Using powers beyond your usage, psionic powers," was her reply, "though my eyes cannot be seen, their vision is absolute. Those behind this blindfold do nothing more than fill the sockets. As for the dress, it has strands of Vulcanite woven into it, on par with what you are wearing, but less cumbersome, less visible and nicer to look at."

Rarity, immediately entranced by Cecilia's clothing, dragged her over with her eyes, where she sat with Luna and Rarity and answered their various questions, getting to know them better. Nicholas, meanwhile, drifted off to Kyhron, who stood with his standard bearer, Neveron, a man over four metres tall, clad in scale mail under armour and black, spiked plate armour above, with a helmet bearing a smaller version of Kyhron's own crown, the standard in his hands well over double his height, bleeding black shadows into the surroundings.

"Where is Belial?" Nicholas asked, aimed more at Neveron, the more receptive of the pair.

"On his way, my Lord," Neveron replied, voice strangely normal, "he was a few parsecs from Cradle when we gave him your message, he will be here in a few minutes, I believe."

"Very good. Kyhron, we will begin planning for our final assault when Belial arrives, draw up a basic plan for us to build on. Any resources you believe you need, you may use."

Though Kyhron was facing away from him, it was clear the Emperor's son smiled. He had waited a long time for such a moment, already his mind was racing, forming tactics and strategies, picking out the perfect units to deploy to ensure total mastery of any situation.

Haisan and Ar'Aknos were sat with Penumbra and Chrysalis, drinking tea from small cups that had been found in a supply case. Penumbra had boiled the water from a ration pack with her magic, with Haisan managing to locate both a pot and supply of tea from another case. Haisan would, periodically, balance his cup on the tip of one of his many knives, keeping its pommel aloft on the edge of one finger. He would remain in the position for a few seconds, totally and innocently engrossed in the activity, before picking the cup off with his other hand and getting back to drinking.

"Emperor Nicholas had told me extensively about what you call magic," Ar'Aknos said, reminiscing in his deep, bass tone voice, "he was incredible at it, still is I assume, he was able to create these abilities in the midst of battle, allowing us to overcome any foe or situation, regardless of what it was. I never had any sort of connection to it, myself, which is a blessing and a curse, in a way."

Chrysalis took a sip of her tea, smiling as she watched the child-like Haisan balance his cup once again. "Nicholas taught me a lot about magic after he rescued me, about where it comes from and how it can be manipulated. He even taught me about my Shade, an ability I never even knew I'd had all along."

"His mastery of such things is without equal." Ar'Aknos chuckled. "A mastery I have no doubt will assist us in this battle."

"What about you, Haisan?" Penumbra asked, with Haisan losing balance of his cup, but catching it before a drop could spill, his knife landing balanced on his slipper, "any experience with magic?"

Haisan shook his head. "Not any I'd like to talk about, anyway. I think the only nice encounter with psionics was when Emperor Nicholas revived me."

"So," Penumbra said, seizing the opportunity to ask a question that had been bugging her, "you were dead before?"

Haisan laughed, apparently genuinely. "I think so," he said, in his innocent, high-pitched voice, "I shouldn't have ever gone back to Morvis. The first time around I was confronted with flesh-stripping acid pools and air that melted your lungs, perhaps it was an omen. I went in again looking to clear a rebel hideout, I got complacent, too careless in my thoughts I couldn't die that I took one hit. Emperor Nicholas had given me some of his power, enough to keep healing me but not enough to seal the wound fully, so, I lay there in a burnt out bunker, the air melting my flesh away. It took me a whole week to finally die." He laughed again, again, seemingly genuinely. "Then a pop and I see Emperor Nicholas again. I thought I was dreaming, like reliving my life as it comes to an end, but no, I get brought here not too long later."

Penumbra regretted asking.

The thump of something metallic and heavy striking the floor behind them drew everyone's eye. Through the Veiled Edge strode Belial, an abomination of science who seemed to only lived because Death despised him. He was nearly four metres tall, with only one real leg, the other a strangely primitive prosthesis. He was - or had been - a Zelian, though only had three arms rather than four, with only one of which being real - though so encased in armour it was difficult to accurately tell - the others being a regular, arm-sized appendage, and an appendage like two arms joined into one, with a gun the size of Rarity attached. His regular, arm-sized appendage was only like an arm in size, being little more than a node about six inches wide attached to his torso, with a long, navy blue cylinder attaching a navy blue octahedron of the same material. Red, braided cables about a centimetre in diameter crisscrossed the arm, wrapping around and into it or flowing off it to give the impression of tentacles. His entire torso from the ribs up had been replaced by a similar navy blue material to the arm, unnecessary angular pieces of material covered in cables or tubes, connected to the large pyramid of navy material attached to a backpack either made of glowing red cable or more navy material. The only thing natural left of his head was the skull, covered in navy material to hold it in place, keep it sturdy, plug the gaps and hold the mismatched, glowing red eyes, surrounding a larger one about three centimetres in radius in the middle of his face.

He was Belial, a being created as part of an experiment millennia ago into fusing a living organism with the Machine Plague, an ancient Dauxite Assembly tool to terraform planets into machine worlds for its synths to live comfortably on, easily adaptable into a weapon by virtue of its programming.

"Belial," Nicholas greeted him, "good, now we may begin. Kyhron, present your plan."

The group came together, though kept apart enough to leave space for the holographic projector Neveron placed in the centre, as well as staying away from Belial.

The projector made an image of an enormous, winding fortress, easily the size of a city, but with a layout apparently designed at random.

"This," Kyhron said, "is the Great Light's Citadel. In the central spire." He pointed to the largest tower, standing dead centre, supported by hundreds of other buildings all forming a pedestal for it and the immense garden outside of it. "Dwells the Great Light, itself. Our forces are still far from the Citadel's walls, so we will have to deploy by ship. We deploy near the gate." He pointed at the small opening in the perimeter wall, which was clearly bigger than it seemed. "The only way into or out of the Citadel. Anywhere else is too dangerous. We do not fully know the Light's capabilities, so the further away we deploy will likely be the better. Then, we force our way inside and up, fighting through the towers and bridges to here." He pointed at a bridge from one tower to another, over a bottomless abyss. "We cross the bridge to the second layer, from there we can access the Light's tower by crossing this bridge." He pointed at another bridge, this one far wider. "From there we push upwards and strike at the Light itself. Meanwhile, ground forces will advance with Monolith mobile firebaces, which they will use to break through the enemy's defences and assault the perimeter wall, buying us time. This is a do or die assault, so I took the liberty of requesting the ultimate support."

He turned, revealing three figures in red robes, each carrying a staff. The two to the left and right were identical, helmets tall and with a large, expressionless black visor marking their face. The one in the centre appeared like a wizened old man, though he stood completely upright, was taller than his fellows, bore a far bigger staff and had an aura of purple energy around his head, like a halo, at all times. His beard stretched to just below his shoulders, like thin, white wisps. He looked old and almost certainly was, but he definitely wasn't weak.

"My Lord," the old one called out, waving a hand, his voice alone betraying his immense wisdom, "it is good to see you in person once again."

Nicholas chuckled. "Grand Master, I had wondered when you'd show up."

The Grand Master approached. "You could never trust me to shy away from a great deed," he jested, laughing heartily as he did, "I have brought two Neophytes to assist in Lord Kyhron's plan, they more than suffice." Kyhron looked as though he was about to speak, but the Grand Master silenced him before he began. "The Immortals are elsewhere," he said, "these two are good fighters, trained by myself. The Immortals are not needed here, they are needed elsewhere on the front."

Kyhron growled. "Do you not understand the importance of this? The outcome of this war hinges on this operation, if we fail then all will have been for nothing."

The Grand Master waved him off with a hand, "I have no doubt we will succeed," he said, "with the resources we have and under your current plan. It has been foretold."

Cecilia had made her way over to the Grand Master, who stood a full metre taller than her. "Grand Master," she said, "it has been a long time. I would say I thought you were dead but we'd have both known that wasn't true."

The Grand Master chuckled. "Oh, Cecilia, how I remember our heady days, back with Shattered-Star in Perseus, how we turned the tide of many a battle. Now, we have been called upon to turn the tide of history, of reality."

"I know," she replied, "though, if anyone can do it, we can."

"Yes." He chuckled again. "I do suppose so. Though, it is a pity Shattered-Star is not here to be with us, this war would probably be over by now if he was."

"Our assault," Kyhron said, voice raised to indicate his dissatisfaction with being ignored, "will commence from the cruiser Victorious Jubilation, which will be arriving soon. We shall strike deep behind enemy lines, with only the cover of the Victorious Jubilation to protect us, exactly twelve hours from now. Gather up your weapons and armour and prepare yourselves."

Kyhron lifted his sword, Soulflayer, from its resting point on a stack of crates. "Take only the best."

"Cecilia," Nicholas called, "have Rarity and Luna equipped with armour and weaponry, I shall do the same for Penumbra. Their equipment must be excellent, we cannot afford to lose them."

Cecilia saluted, gathering up Rarity and Luna around a number of weapon and armour caches. Rarity's armoured vambraces, covered in scuff marks and only half attached, were cast aside in favour of pieces of silver armour, ornate but partially flexible and far tougher than anything else she had worn before. Luna was given a whole suit of plate armour, modelled to look similar enough to Nightmare Moon's armour, colour and all, but made larger and more covering to enhance protection. Inside the helmet, which contained an exactly sized and cushioned spot for her horn, was a transmitter, capable of both transmitting and receiving signals. As a secondary weapon to her talons and spells, she was handed a rapier, with a night blue blade and jet black handle, its blade serrated, with each serration lined with glowing blue plasma.

Nicholas carried a crate over to Penumbra, which was about the size of her lying down. Opening its lid revealed a suit similar to Luna's, though a royal purple and smaller, allowing for greater freedom of movement. Just as Luna's, her helmet contained a transmitter, along with thick lenses covering her eyes, allowing her to zoom in and out but also to receive tactical information on the go. Once the armour was fully secured, Nicholas handed her a longsword, an almost perfect replica of her first one, though with less dangerous connotations.

"The sword," he said, "will be able to kill most in one slice. Your magic will allow you to use it and your talons, never use it or your magic sparingly."

A shadow slowly floated overhead, the shadow of a cruiser, which Penumbra had no doubt was the Victorious Jubilation. Her heads-up-display identified it as such when she looked up at it, giving it a convenient red outline and giving her its name, affiliation, year of construction and place on her list of objectives. 'Board the Victorious Jubilation,' the message from her display said, with the group gathering below it, Nicholas ordering everyone to stand at least two metres apart.

"They will be teleporting you up," he said, "close your eyes now, then open them at the sound of my voice."

With an ethereal screech and a pop, he vanished, blinking himself up to the teleporter bay. Where, a few seconds later, with a purple and pink flash, Cecilia appeared, stepping forwards when Nicholas called to her.

Penumbra, already relatively used to the idea of teleporting, was not too shocked when she felt the ground vanish from under her with a pop, then reappear with another. "Come forwards," Nicholas said, with Penumbra opening her eyes and trotting forwards to join him, Cecilia and Belial, standing in a large opening just outside of the room.

Another eight pink and purple flashes followed her, each one bringing another member of the group up and into the ship. Rarity had looked a little shaken, apparently not having heeded Nicholas' command to keep her eyes closed. Rainbow Dash clearly hadn't, as she came aboard yelling about a "shadow monster," causing Nicholas to have to pull her away with his invisible telekinesis.

After the eighth flash, which released Kyhron, the officer on the console saluted. "All are aboard, Captain," he said into a panel on his desk, "we're ready when you are."

"Wait," Penumbra said, "where's Haisan? Or Ablazed Glory, or Chrysalis?" All three were nowhere to be found.

"Haisan will be leading the ground assault," Ar'Aknos said, "he is en route to the front now. Ablazed Glory and Chrysalis are being transferred elsewhere, Emperor Nicholas has something in mind for them."

"But, we need all the help we can get."

Another voice joined in, one Penumbra was certain she knew, "that's why you have us."

The six members of Red Team, who Penumbra had been introduced to not too long ago, stood a few metres behind Nicholas, fully geared up. Though, as Penumbra had found out when they first met, two of their members had died during the Gateway assault, the presence of a large portion of a PHALANX squad would definitely help tip the balance of the scales in their favour.

"We're ready," their leader, Douglas, said, "let's go win this war."

XXII. Smother

“The Emperor declared to his Legions: ‘Go forth, those of you loyal to me. Sing your victories across a million worlds. Proclaim the glory of your Emperor and the strength of his Empire.’ And thus they went forth across the worlds under the Emperor’s Red Banner. Those who heard of the deeds of the Emperor and his loyal soldiers were awed by them, to which the Emperor declared: ‘Join us, revel too in the glories of your Emperor. Go forth and claim the galaxy which your Emperor and his Legions have made yours.’ And thus they went forth.”

- The Triumph of Perseus by Lucia Winter -

The Victorious Jubilation had roared to life, climbing high and flying at speed towards the Citadel, which, according to Nicholas, stood about a thousand miles from where they had boarded. The few glances Penumbra had gotten of the Imperial lines were awe-inspiring, there were tens of millions of soldiers, at least, facing off against the daemons, who would have looked little more than a singular block with only intermittent spats of colour were it not for the tanks separating them. Just behind the first few lines of men rolled what Kyhron identified as Monolith mobile firebaces: two kilometre long armoured beasts that were essentially an entire military base on tracks larger than buildings. They bristled with cannons, firing constantly into the sea of daemons that lay ahead.

The cruiser had begun to take fire over the course of the next hour, with a call coming over the intercom shortly afterwards to get to droppods. The entire pod bay, a hundred or so pods in all, was full of soldiers, some wished them good luck, others simply climbed into their pods and waited, resigned to fate. Penumbra was led to a pod containing a single, black armoured Ranger, a Captain by the three gold chevrons on his left shoulder plate, who nodded to her as she entered. Luna and Rarity were given their own pod, the dropmaster attaching them in and running them over the basics of operating the pod. Cecilia was led to her own pod, as were the three Shade Guard and Ar'Aknos, though the dropmasters mostly left them be, confident they knew how to operate a drop pod.

Penumbra's heads up display flashed up a timer: '10 minutes' which began its countdown as the pod doors all closed with a click and hiss. They sat in darkness for a moment, before the walls flashed and revealed a clean view of the outside, the dropmasters ensuring the pods were ready before hastily evacuating, giving one last salute to everyone. The central pillar's screens flashed up, revealing the face of Emperor Nicholas.

"The enemy shall be swift, you must be swifter. Disembark your pods the moment you land and secure the main gate. Myself, Kyhron and Neveron will deploy from the cruiser, from there we will assist in the seizure of the gate, then in breaching the Citadel. Prepare yourselves."

With a roar of cranes, the pods shunted forwards, detaching from the platform and moving to hover over the pod bay doors, beyond which lay the Citadel. With a siren and flashing red lights, the pod bay doors made a mechanical clunk and opened steadily, revealing the immense size of the Citadel, which covered a large portion of the view.

Penumbra's timer flashed on one minute, every second going by heralding another flash. The central pillar flashed up a timer as well, synced exactly to Penumbra's own, which gave her Ranger companion a countdown too.

"Hey," they shouted, drawing Penumbra's attention, the alicorn looking round the central pillar to view their helmeted face, "good luck, we're all rooting for you."

Penumbra nodded. "Thank you." She thought about wishing them good luck too, but knew better.

Her timer began an audible countdown from ten, "10. 9. 8. 7."

Fire from below began to burst around the pod bay doors, though the cruiser's shields held it off.

"6. 5. 4."

With a thunderous screeching, the cruiser returned fire, bolts of orange speeding down and detonating all around the Citadel and surrounding field, steadily silencing the anti-air fire.

"3. 2. 1."

The timers all collectively flashed zero, with a shrill beep entering her ears, before everything suddenly jolted downwards. With a clunk, the pods detached, falling near in unison straight down. The ground fire took out some, knocking others off course slightly, but the hail of fire from the cruiser kept the worst of it away.

The cover fire from the cruiser stopped only a few seconds before the pods made landfall, embedding into the floor to allow their occupants ease of escape. With a mechanical hiss, followed by a loud bang, the pod's door burst off, the Ranger leaping out, Penumbra following close behind, creating a shield against where she assumed the enemies were. A few daemonic bullets impacted it, dropping harmlessly to the ground when they did, but otherwise she was mostly clear to move.

What few daemons had been close by had been sent reeling by the impact of the pods, then almost wholesale destroyed by the Rangers. Those who remained were forced back towards the gate, with the Imperial forces close behind. The gate stood about twenty metres tall, built out of a material that seemed to be a white wood with a thickness of nearly a foot, it was slightly ajar, with individual daemons coming through every couple of seconds, only to be quickly cut down by the Imperials who were almost upon it.

When the first line was only a few metres from it, the gate swung open, revealing a titanic daemon, like a knight but nearly ten metres tall, armour fused into its body. It roared out and brought forwards its mace, swinging wildly towards the Imperials, hitting entirely its own allies but intimidating enough that the Imperial line stepped back.

"Back," yelled Cecilia, emerging from the blob of Rangers, "deal with the other daemons, this one is mine."

She rushed the titan, though the daemon didn't seem to notice until she was practically right next to it. It swung out its mace, trying to blindside her, but found that Cecilia only dug into it with her sword and latched on, using the momentum of the mace to jump to the titan's shoulder. The daemon roared out in pain, its mace now sporting a burning patch where Cecilia's sword had impacted it. She landed gracefully, slicing a tendon, before using the titan's helmet as a grip to fling herself up and onto the top of its head. The daemon, still roaring in pain and flailing its one working arm to try and swat Cecilia off of it, stepped backwards, evidently aiming to use the Citadel's walls to remove her from its head. Fortunately for her, the daemon's plan was entirely obvious, prompting her to thrust her sword straight down, aiming to destroy everything in its head.

The daemon fell silent, smoke pouring from its mouth, nose and ears, before it toppled backwards, crashing on top of a group of its allies, Cecilia landing beside it, decapitating an imp-like daemon on landing. Her allies pushed forwards, with Belial punching a hole straight through a small knight daemon with his cannon. The final group of daemons left, mostly imps, were quickly evaporated by the arrival of Nicholas, Kyhron and Neveron.

"There is not time to be lost," Nicholas called everyone in, "secure the gatehouse."

Rangers, led by Cecilia, rushed past him, cutting down what few daemons remained inside. The gatehouse was cleared in a few moments, though the gate opposite its entrance was locked from within. Nicholas stepped up to it, regarded it for a moment, before grunting and calling up Penumbra.

"This gate is covered in powerful wards," he said, "I will need to smash it open." He brought forth Oathbreaker, slamming the sword into the material just above the lock, causing it to splinter and crack, but not fully shatter.

Outside, a horde of daemons had begun their approach, stretching for as far as the eye could see from the threshold. Most were imps, though there were a fair few knights, small and large, amongst them, all aiming straight for the gate, where the Imperial forces were camped.

"Continue breaching the door," Kyhron shouted, "I will deal with them."

He stepped outside, making some distance between the gate and himself, already aware of what he would have to do.

He was alerted to a presence to his left, turning to regard Cecilia, one of his adopted sisters, who was stood straight and firm, weapon in hand.

Another alert, now to his right, he turned to regard Ar'Aknos, a brother not through family but through experience, who stood straight and firm, weapon in front of him, ready.

Then another alert, just behind his left elbow, he regarded the presence of Neveron through their psionic link, a servant - to some - but also a great friend, who stood straight and firm, standard raised in challenge.

A final alert, to his left again, he turned to regard Belial - as the Zelians would say - cousin - a fighting partner - who stood straight and firm, weapon levelled against the approaching horde.

"Return," Kyhron ordered, tone brokering no argument.

Cecilia laughed. "And let you have all of the fun?"

Ar'Aknos laughed. "And let you kill more than me?"

Neveron laughed. “And let them die without seeing their opponent’s banner?”

Even Belial laughed, "and let you get all of the glory?"

Beneath his shadowed exterior, Kyhron smiled. "Very well. Close the gate behind us."

A dozen Rangers worked to push each segment of the gate closed, whereupon it locked with a click automatically. Another smash by Oathbreaker prompted the Rangers to adopt defensive positions around the gatehouse, preparing for the inevitable breach.

On the fourth hit, the inner gate broke down, Oathbreaker carving through a small knight's head as it did so. A few imps turned with shock, only to be sliced apart by the Neophytes, who straightened up and sheathed their swords the moment the little courtyard was clear.

There was a path carved out of a stone slightly darker than the quasi-soil around it, leading up to a thick tower. Penumbra recognised it from Kyhron's briefing, the first major turning they would have to take: up the tower and across a bridge to another tower almost identical to it, though taller. The PHALANXs, Rainbow Dash amongst them, forged ahead, Emperor Nicholas heading up the back with Penumbra, Luna and Rarity with the Shade Guard.

"We'll hold them off," a Ranger, Commander by the golden star on his shoulder plate, said, "hopefully we'll keep them off your back at least a little while."

Nicholas nodded. "Your sacrifice will not be forgotten," he said, "nor shall it be in vain."

"Yes sir, give them hell."

The first tower apparently contained nothing but a staircase, which wound up along its walls until it eventually stopped at the roof, with no room connecting it. Each step was about two metres thick, enough to fit the whole group walking single file with comfort. About three quarters of the way up, there was a wider step, about six metres long, attaching to a bridge that led out to another tower, the insides similarly identical. Though they caught the odd glimpse of daemons outside, they encountered none in either tower.

At the top of the second tower, they reached another bridge, this one leading to a much thicker tower, with a pair of imps stood aimlessly half way along it. A pair of pops from a PHALANX's gun and their bodies crumpled, slowly melting as the group passed them.

The tower they entered actually had rooms, though what purpose they had was unknown. The first they entered was a foyer of some kind, a large staircase leading up and into what appeared to be a dining room, though there were only three chairs, randomly placed, around the twenty metre long table, with no other decoration save the chandelier, that provided light even though it wasn't lit. There was only one imp inside, who again was killed with a single shot from a PHALANX. So far, oddly, they had encountered no real resistance, though that could have been due to the Light's forces being stuck outside, as Penumbra was beginning to suspect.

She quickly rescinded that suspicion when they entered the next room, a rotunda about fifty metres in radius containing a few hundred imps and a few dozen small knights, with one of their larger counterparts in the centre. It took the daemons a moment to notice the new arrivals, before, with a collective roar, they all charged, imps at the lead, knights behind.

Their roar was matched by the shrill shrieks of rifle fire, cutting apart several imps at a time. Though for every imp that died a knight got a step closer to the PHALANXs, using their smaller brethren as meatshields. Luna and the Neophytes jumped forwards, guarding the PHALANX gun line with their swords and staves, cutting down any imp or knight that got close enough. The Grand Master stood behind, Rarity with him, firing off shots from her twin laser pistols. The halo around the Grand Master's head had extended to beneath his eyes, as he cast spell after spell to enhance the speed and strength of the Neophytes and Luna.

Emperor Nicholas sailed overhead, using wings to gain the height advantage over his target: the large knight. The beast swung out with mace and fist, but was useless in a fight against Oathbreaker, being sliced clean in two as Nicholas pushed himself downwards with his wings, slamming into the ground as the perfectly severed knight splattered beside him. His comrades pushed forwards, Luna impaling a pair of imps with her rapier, whilst the PHALANX Em headbutted another imp to death.

"Be wary," Nicholas said, "our enemies are innumerable and they will throw everything to stop us. Keep your guards up."

Penumbra did not drop her guard again, keeping her longsword ready at all times, wreathed in an aura of magic. Nicholas stood at her side, Oathbreaker grasped firmly in his left hand, his right partially covered in black flames. The PHALANXs, Rainbow included, scanned their surroundings as they went, turning back and forth to make sure every angle was known to them. The PHALANX pony's mechanical wings flexed out instinctively, ensuring they were ready and able to take flight at a moment's notice.

The next room they entered was smaller, like a vestibule for a larger room, which it turned out to be. They entered a rotunda similar to the previous, though this one only contained three imps, who quickly collapsed into heaps, though the PHALANXs had not fired their weapons.

Emperor Nicholas stood at the end of the room, Oathbreaker dripping slightly with brand new daemonic blood. He motioned for the group to approach quietly, which they did, surrounding the door to the next room, identical to the previous.

"This next room," Emperor Nicholas whispered, "holds a number of enemies, be ready, we may need to make an escape."

Rather than let the PHALANXs breach, Nicholas entered first, blowing the door off with a punch, sending it flying into the new room. A dozen or so imps were killed by the missile, with a small knight losing most of its fighting ability as the door, covered in daemonic gore, wedged firmly into its knee. There were at least a thousand assorted daemons in the room, which was far larger than the previous rooms, with a large, stage-like protrusion on its far end, with something obscured by a thick, grey curtain. There were two exits, barring the way they had entered, to the left and to the right. Their objective was to the left, though the right exit was closer.

The PHALANXs opened fire first, once again, and Nicholas took flight to use his various ranged abilities to their maximum effectiveness. As before, Luna and the Neophytes fronted the line, using their melee to protect the gunline of PHALANXs and Rarity, with the Grand Master casting enhancement spells to his allies. Penumbra flew up alongside Nicholas, firing off bolts of magical lightning from her horn, focusing her fire on the various knights.

With each knight killed, something seemed to thunder closer to the stage. Every thud gradually got louder and caused more vibrations, until a massive silhouette was just about visible through the curtain. When the final knight fell, the curtain evaporated, revealing a massive daemon, twenty feet tall, clad in silvery armour clearly separate from its body, with a pair of simple cleavers in its hands, its head half covered by its breastplate, the rest protected by a wide brimmed helmet, a pair of curving horns on its head.

The massive daemon seemed to laugh. "Now." Its voice was guttural and seemed to sound wet, "You die."

Nicholas directed a pair of shadow blasts at it, intending simply to stagger it. "Move," he yelled, "keep moving."

The group charged through the few remaining daemons, aiming for the left exit, following their objectives. Overhead, Nicholas continued with his shadow blasts, with Penumbra reluctantly retreating last, after recognising he wouldn't stop until she did. Nicholas was the last to pass through the door, which he slashed at with Oathbreaker, collapsing a part of the tower on top of it.

“That should buy us some time," he said, floating back to the group, who were already into the next tower, which was mercifully empty for the time being.

"What was that?" Rainbow asked, voice slightly frantic.

"A Paladin," Nicholas replied, "an old warrior of the Light, though this one has been fully possessed, halfway between person and daemon. Enough free will to be dangerous but a slave to the Light nonetheless."

"And how do we kill it?" Penumbra asked, more interested in ending the thing than where it came from.

"We don't," Nicholas replied, "not yet, anyway. We must push forwards, every second we do not gives the Light more time to react."

The room above them was similarly empty, as was the room above that. Oddly enough, the entire tower was empty, allowing them to make their way to the next with no resistance, then through that and onto a large, keep-like structure.

The entrance to it was guarded by a portcullis and a pair of imps, all of whom were destroyed the moment they came into view. Nicholas stood in their place, Oathbreaker dripping with daemon blood, having appeared apparently out of nowhere. His cyan eyes burned less brightly than they had before, almost dulled, though none had the time to ask him why.

A pair of knights lunged clumsily at him, before everything from their waists down collapsed backwards, their torsos continuing to move a few metres before similarly coming to rest. Nicholas had clearly moved, though none of his group had seen him do so. He had vanished from sight, presumably further inside the keep.

"Enter," he called out, after a second, voice deeper than before, though Penumbra chalked it down to the keep's echo.

The group entered to behold a whole army of slaughtered daemons, everything from imps to small knights to a pair of large knights who were slumped against the far wall, notably missing their faces and, when Penumbra went to look, most of their backs. Oathbreaker glowed green, the glow penetrating the layer of daemon blood that covered it, giving it a silvery sheen. Nicholas was stood with his back to the group, facing the large stairway that led to the next level, a veritable carpet of daemonic corpses at his feet.

The PHALANXs rushed forwards, Luna, Rarity and the Shade Guards close behind them. Only Penumbra turned back to Nicholas, whose eyes were completely grey, but evidently still glowing. She made a motion to ask him about it, before the titan floated past her, Oathbreaker laying a thin trail of blood in his wake. She had no idea how he had done what he did, and, in the current situation, she presumed it'd be too difficult to find out. But, she knew it was effective, and thanked him for it within her thoughts.

The mezzanine floor above was clear, no daemons to be seen, though many could be heard on the floor above. The PHALANXs stood on guard over the bottom of the next stairway, awaiting Emperor Nicholas' commands. He surveyed the floor for a moment, before floating forwards, stopping at the bottom of the stairway.

"Push through," he said, "head through the door on the right, then up the stairs and to the left."

He vanished again, daemonic screeches, roars and shouts of pain echoing down the stairs. The group charged up, forced to pause for a moment at the sheer devastation Nicholas had wrought in the space of a second. They stood before a carpet of dead daemons, two imps thick, with Nicholas about twenty metres away, Oathbreaker buried into a large knight's face, the daemonic flesh around the impact point burning with black and green flames. An imp had been impaled on the claws of his left foot, having launched itself at him, expecting to catch him off guard; a small knight collapsed to the floor behind him, a gap carved through its abdomen, up, and straight through its head, Nicholas' right first covered in daemonic gore.

It was the Grand Master who pulled them forwards, urging them to ignore Nicholas, whose armour had begun to take a greyish colour, his flesh becoming a mixture of its usual pinkish-beige and a light purple. His wings appeared to have gotten thinner, too, also taking on a more purple colour, with faint twinkles - like stars - hovering near them, though Penumbra assumed that was just a trick of the light.

The group followed the route Emperor Nicholas had given to them: right, up, then left. Again, they encountered few daemons, only a pair of imps in the two rooms they entered, who quickly became a pair of former imps with two pops of a PHALANX's rifle. The room they had been directed to had the floor plan of a dodecagon, with eleven identical doors leading off it, the twelfth side holding the staircase. They formed a ring, covering all of the potential entrances, and waited for Emperor Nicholas.

Fortunately, they didn't have to wait long, with Nicholas appearing at the top of the stairs. His armour was now clearly grey, with his skin a light purple and wings thin enough to see through, a slightly lighter purple than his skin. His eyes were a light grey, which could have been mistaken for white, though they did not glow anymore.

He levelled his sword against a door, in a general forward direction from the stairway. "There," he said, voice clearly deeper than it had been and with a sinister hint behind it, "advance."

He floated forwards until he was about five metres from the door, which suddenly exploded outwards, the position of Nicholas' hand bearing Oathbreaker changing by a minuscule amount when it did. Through the threshold of the now shattered door was a corridor, wide and tall enough for floating Emperor Nicholas, which went on for about fifty metres until it met another door. The group moved forwards, Nicholas at the head, with the Emperor repeating the same tactic he had on the last door, stopping before it, with it exploding out a second later, sword hand moving minutely, only Penumbra seeming to notice.

The splinters of the door killed four imps standing just beyond it, with one of the largest splinters crippling a small knight as it cut through one knee and out of the other, practically tying it together. The knight was the largest daemon in the room, which, within an instant, became the largest corpse in the room. Nicholas had, once again, moved, now floating at the very centre of the room, his armour much whiter, his skin a darker purple, wings being almost see through and dotted with little stars, his eyes almost a uniform white.

The group stepped over the daemon corpses as best they could, observing what appeared to be like a dead end, no doors, windows or any other potential exits leading beyond the room.

"Hey," Rainbow said, "this is a dead end. What are we doing here?"

A rumbling came from all around, though seemed to be coming from Nicholas. He hovered in place, a menacing aura around him, before the three walls they hadn't come from collapsed, the three floors of tower above them buried into a larger tower a kilometre or so away.

One of the four largest towers, which ringed the main tower and the central spire above that, was in view, though there was no path to it. To the group's far left hung the Victorious Jubilation, covered in gashes but still firing, torching the areas they had passed through earlier with its plasma lance and causing general destruction and chaos with its main batteries.

Chunks or rubble, large enough to stand on, appeared between the group's tower and the larger tower beyond. The chunks hovered in place, suspended by some invisible force, clearly intended for the group to jump along. The PHALANXs went first, hopping onto the first chunk which did not even wobble, remaining firmly locked in place by whatever was holding it up. Led by Douglas, they jumped to the next platform with relative ease.

"Come on," the PHALANX Captain shouted, "let's get going."

Rarity, Luna close behind, was next, though far slower and with more caution than the PHALANXs. The Shade Guard followed, apparently seeing the jumps as little more than par for the course. Penumbra went to follow, but looked back at Nicholas, still hanging in place, the same menacing aura around him.

She paused for a moment, questioning how to ask him what she wanted to know. "Can you..." She paused again, before shaking her head, dissuaded by something within. "Nevermind."

She leapt onto the first platform, foregoing usage of her wings, save to give herself an extra boost on the grounds of the potential anti-air fire. Whatever had scarred the Victorious Jubilation she would rather not have been hit by.

Eventually, the group reached the final three platforms, keeping separated so as not to potentially knock their friends off. There was a wall ahead of them, with only a tiny balistraria allowing them to see inside, though, obviously, none of them could fit through it. Then, suddenly, the wall was punched through, a gap at least twenty metres wide and forty tall had been made, Nicholas floating within.

The group quickly followed, jumping into a large, spiralling staircase, enough room for all of them to stand abreast. As the PHALANXs, Luna, Rarity and the Shade Guard forged ahead, searching for the next level, Penumbra regarded Nicholas again. His armour was ashen white, skin a dark purple, with his wings, tiny stars hovering around them, taking on a ghostly appearance, though their colours had again shifted to give Penumbra a view of what looked to be a galaxy or nebula from the outside. His eyes were a uniform white, though still did not glow, and his menacing aura had grown, making Penumbra feel oddly uneasy, as well as seeming to force her to look away.

Eventually, she caved, following the rest of the group, leaving Nicholas hovering in silence. She knew he'd catch up, there was no reason to bother him.

The group reached a large rotunda, with only one apparent exit, presumably leading deeper into the tower. It was, unlike the previous rooms, oddly dark, with the lack of lighting actually seeming to affect it. The group advanced slowly, forming a protective ring as they went.

Suddenly, Penumbra's instincts kicked in, adrenaline began flowing through her. Her enhanced, supernatural senses had detected something watching her, something that shouldn't have been. That something turned into many somethings, then many more, before the room lit up in a blaze, revealing thousands of daemons, surrounding the group.

There were eight large knights, with dozens of smaller knights and thousands of imps. What was worse, though, was the Paladin who now blocked the exit, slightly smaller than the previous, armed with a pair of double-headed axes.

It laughed, though the sound that came out sounded like someone on the verge of vomiting. "Die."

The imps surged forwards, small knights following, the PHALANXs instantly opening fire, taking up a circular formation, with the four melee oriented members of the group at the front, with Rarity and the Grand Master in the centre, firing pistols and casting spells respectively. Penumbra was grateful for her supernatural reflexes and speed, allowing her to perfectly time her strikes, without them she would probably have died almost immediately - if she would have survived that long to begin with.

The imps were not much of a trouble to deal with, with the small knights requiring a little more thought but still relatively easy. The trouble came with the large knights, whose maces would easily flatten half of the tightly packed group if they got close enough. Luckily, unlike usual, the large knights didn't simply smash through their allies, instead hanging at the back, strangely still, which would have worried Penumbra had she been paying much attention.

It was when the majority of the smaller daemons were dead that the first pair of large knights charged, attacking from opposite sides to split the firepower of the PHALANXs and hopefully destroy at least one half of the group. As Penumbra turned to face the charging knight, a horrifying thought clicked in her mind: they were fighting tactically. Previously, the daemons had only had a single tactic of charge forwards, with the smaller of their number sometimes branching out into meatshield for larger daemons territory. Now, though, they seemed to exhibit tactical thought, they had timed their assault, charging right as two of the PHALANXs reloaded the battery packs on their rifles, split up so as to divide the firepower and attention of the group.

Penumbra was, again, grateful for her supernatural abilities, her enhanced hearing recognising the approach of another knight, to her right, then another to her left. There were four of the large knights charging the group, the two who had started off first being merely distractions to allow the other two more time to move forwards. Had she not noticed, as several of her allies hadn't, she would have been unable to fire a circular burst of magic to temporarily stagger the knights and inform her allies of their two new attackers.

The PHALANXs loosed their grenades, attempting to slow down their attackers, which they did, the knights seeming to stop and step back when they noticed the grenades, again exhibiting actual, worrying thought about their behaviours. The two Neophytes brought up their staves to cast a pair of spells, only to lower them as the Grand Master stepped forwards, staff already wreathed in energy.

He slammed the pommel of his weapon into the ground, sending out a bolt of energy in front of and behind him, impacting both knights' left legs, collapsing them and allowing the PHALANXs to concentrate their fire, killing both after a few seconds of sustained gunfire.

He repeated for the other two, only for two more of their fellows to catch them and push them forwards, their inertia sending them into a head on collision with the group, very nearly crushing the PHALANXs and knocking the group down, with even the Grand Master dropping his weapon for a moment.

Penumbra rose first, horn wrapping itself in magic four times over, firing out a series of large, purple, icicle-like bolts at each of the knights, outright killing three and mauling one's leg. The two remaining uninjured knights stepped forwards, forming a triangle around the group, who were beginning to reset their positions, the PHALANXs using the now dead knights for cover. The six PHALANXs and one PHALANX pony concentrated their fire on one of the uninjured knights, sending it drifting to the right, still running but with its right leg completely destroyed and most of its torso burning.

Its other uninjured fellow got within a few metres of Penumbra, before a navy blue rapier appeared out of the end of its head, wreathed in Luna's magical aura. The knight collapsed, suddenly realising it was dead. The final knight, injured as it was, managed to take a few hobbled steps towards the group before a magical bolt the size of one of the PHALANXs pierced its skull through its eye, the knight collapsing backwards slowly.

Only the Paladin remained, still standing guard over the door. This one was clearly weaker than the one they had escaped from earlier, though still had a dangerous look about it. It gave a guttural growl, slamming the ground with its axes, goading the group to attack it. One of the PHALANXs gave a testing shot, only for the shot to harmlessly ricochet off of the Paladin's armour and into the ceiling.

One of the PHALANXs, Sam, stepped forwards, switching his rifle to its shotgun mode. He advanced slowly, clearly intending for the Paladin to attack him so he could use its arm to access the weak spots of its head, then use his shotgun to kill it.

As expected, the Paladin's left axe swung down, Sam using the jets on his armour to dodge it by a foot. Rather than land and climb aboard the arm, Sam was swatted aside like a fly by the Paladin's right axe, impacting the wall with a thud, leaving a decently sized crater behind him.

"Sam!" Aimee yelled, leaping forwards as the Paladin roared in triumph. With another swing of its axe, the Paladin smashed Aimee into the ground, using the flat head of the axe to minimise her ability to dodge.

The Paladin thundered forwards, knocking the reeling PHALANXs aside with frightening ease, using its axe like a tennis racket. The Shade Guard leapt aside, one of the Neophytes grabbing Rarity as they passed, removing her from harm’s way. Luna, however, was not so lucky, her magical shield was shattered in a single strike, with the shockwave of its destruction throwing her backwards, helmet saving her head from cracking against the wall like an egg but knocking her unconscious as it did so.

Penumbra summoned a swarm of magical shards, using them both as a shield and as weapons. She threw forwards dozens at a time, but almost all impacted harmlessly against the Paladin's armour, only a few becoming embedded into it, the rest uselessly dropping to the floor. One or two impacted areas the armour had exposed, though the Paladin didn't even seem to notice. She stepped back, firing forth even more shards as she did so, hoping the Paladin would at least slow down. It was upon her in seconds, batting her into the wall closest to her with its right axe, evil laughter bellowing out as it did so.

The wall had cracked behind her, Penumbra having collapsed into a small pile of rubble. Her head was spinning but she was not unconscious, though she couldn't focus enough to use her magic, not that it probably would have been of much use anyway. The Paladin stepped up to her, raising its axes above its head, clearly intending for the killing blow. She closed her eyes and braced for impact.

She opened them again a couple of seconds later, confused at why she was still able to, though she quickly realised why.

Before her, hung Emperor Nicholas, sword - veins glowing bright green - and fist out ready. His armour was like a shining pearl, shoulder pads widened outwards and connected behind his neck, his crown sporting a pair of blade-like protrusions on either side of his head, his skin deep purple and coursing with power just beneath it, his wings, enormous and ghostly, with an image of the cosmic web within them, galaxies shining like stars both within and without, hovering about them like fireflies. Though Penumbra could not see them head on, his eyes were glowing white, their corona visible even from behind, starkly contrasting his perfectly smooth purple head. All around him, the aura of menace had been replaced with one of doom.

"She is not yours to take." His true form's voice was deep and sinister, making even Penumbra reel back.

He vanished again, the Paladin collapsing forwards, covered in hundreds of burning slashes, a deep, fiery gash from its abdomen to its face leaking daemonic blood. As it fell, it revealed Nicholas, hovering behind it, sword eagerly absorbing its blood, glowing with an even greater hunger as it did so.

"Did," Penumbra stuttered, "did you just? Did you just stop time?" She felt almost absurd for asking, though she had to know.

Emperor Nicholas turned, his eyes burning white with time energy. "Yes."

"What the?" Rainbow, who had seconds earlier been running to Penumbra's aid, stammered, "how the? What kind of power is that?"

"The power," the Grand Master said, standing on the other side of the room, Rarity and the Neophytes next to him, "to control all of time. A power that Emperor Nicholas had long considered too dangerous to use. But, now, his true form is revealed, with all the power that comes with it now visible for our eyes. The power of the Master of Time. The Light, I can feel it, trembling in its spire, it can feel him even down here, feel its doom approaching."

"Advance," Nicholas commanded, hovering above as the group gathered together and checked their injuries. What injuries they had were either not serious or had already been treated, no doubt by Nicholas himself.

The door the now dead Paladin had blocked opened out into a long hallway, the exit visible only as a tiny speck of white in the distance. Further up there was nothing, at least nothing visible, after a hundred or so metres, though it could be assumed it was more of the same. The ceiling, hundreds of metres above them, at least, was held up by pillars twice the width of Nicholas, with no light save that from the exit and those of the group illuminating the room.

Nicholas immediately knew why.

Daemons began to swarm around them, tens of thousands of imps at least, coming from high up on the pillars or on the ceiling, with knights charging forwards from further up the hall, which stretched on into total darkness. Every one of Nicholas' attacks cut a vast swathe into the daemonic hordes, with each attack being unnoticeable save for its aftermath thanks to his time stop. A sudden gap in the daemons ahead, no doubt caused by Nicholas, gave the group the window they needed to begin their escape, before an echoing roar made them quickly hasten their escape.

From the gloom behind them came the first Paladin they had encountered, larger and clearly more powerful than its now dead counterpart, it was very wise to retreat from after how badly its weaker fellow had defeated the group. Fortunately for the very mortal runners, Emperor Nicholas' efficient fury hadn't been tempered by his transformation, rather solidly enhanced, with every one of the Emperor's swings killing dozens of daemons, each one cutting through the barrier to their goal of escape.

With a final time stop, the way was cleared, the only daemons remaining close behind them. Emperor Nicholas passed through the door first, with the group sprinting under him and across the bridge barely wide enough to fit Nicholas, let alone the far larger Paladin. Upon reaching the safety of the other side, each member of the group fell to their knees and caught their breath, preparing for the next encounter. All save Emperor Nicholas, who had landed on the bridge, daemon corpses strewn across it and the Paladin looming over him from the other side.

With a roar of action, the giant beast lunged forwards, Nicholas ramming his sword through its left shoulder. The beast roared out, though in apparent triumph rather than pain, before wrapping its giant arms around Nicholas, simply attempting to move him out of the way. A pair of small knights ducked beneath the Paladin's legs, a sudden kick from Nicholas decapitating one, but not fast enough to stop the other, who charged towards the other side, sword in the air, roaring madly.

With a burst, one of the beast's arms shattered, revealing a rapidly projectile in the form of Oathbreaker. The sword missed the knight, but squarely impacted its intended target: the bridge beyond it.

Oathbreaker, green glare near blinding, hung in place for a moment, before, with a rumble and audible crack, it entirely severed the bridge. Oathbreaker fell into the abyss below, ever more parts of the bridge falling with it. After a moment, the knight fell too, screeching in its failure, prompting the Paladin to realise what was happening.

"You," it began to speak, before Emperor Nicholas' fist erupted through its chest.

"The last word is always mine," the Emperor bellowed, before turning to Penumbra, his eyes burning out, willing her forwards, "go," he yelled, as the Paladin toppled backwards, Nicholas falling with it, "end this once and for all."

He slammed himself downwards, the entirety of the bridge collapsing under his force. The bridge, the daemons and Emperor Nicholas plummeted into the abyss, before finally vanishing from sight.

Finale

“And there, before us, stood the Sovereign of Death.”

- ‘Encounters with Shattered-Star’ by Auridius Kyras -

Penumbra looked out of one of the Citadel's balistraria, surveying the battlefield she had left behind only minutes earlier. From her vantage point, miles above the Aether's land, she could see only a fraction of the wider battle. The force left of her was obscured by the cruiser Victorious Jubilation, whose plasma lance was still firing, torching the Citadel as the group advanced. It was covered in scars, with only two of its twenty engines still running, venting plasma every few minutes from its engineering bay. Yet, as a testament to its crew, it held firm, remaining batteries providing cover fire and its armoured hull providing the distraction that allowed Penumbra and her fellows to continue advancing.

To her right, was the Imperial line. Amongst that block of soldiers, separated only by Monoliths and Titans, were Fusiliers, Rangers, PHALANXs alike. Yet, at the head of the block, marched forwards a thick line of dark green. Penumbra couldn't help but smile as she saw militia, armoured with little more than a steel helmet and cloth, cut through daemons, powered by determination to succeed.

Rainbow Dash and Em stood behind her, with Ellie, Hayden and the two Neophytes guarding the stairwell. Aimee and Douglas, along with Luna and Rarity, headed the group, with the Grand Master sensing the state of the path ahead.

"Come on," Rainbow said, her robotic voice oddly frantic, "we have to keep going. Nicholas wouldn't want us to just wait."

Penumbra chuckled darkly, "no," she said, remembering the look her mentor gave her as he collapsed the bridge, "he would not."

She pulled herself away from the lookout, steeling herself with the reminder of Nicholas. The armoured Rainbow Dash cocked her rifle saddle with a wing. "Let's go, way ahead should be clear."

Em stepped back. "Go up ahead," he said to Rainbow, "I'll get the others to follow.” He turned down to the stairs. "We're moving out!" He shouted down, "get up here."

The four rear guard followed quickly, the Neophytes waiting for Penumbra before they followed. The Grand Master stood ahead, Rarity on his left and Luna on his right. Luna still hadn't fully recovered from Nicholas' sacrifice, as evidenced by the solitary tear that hovered in her right eye. To her credit, she wasn't letting it affect her, still speaking in her authoritative tone, though it had an undertone of anger to it, one even Penumbra couldn't hope to replicate.

"That doesn't make sense," she argued with the Grand Master, "there should be more guards, yet you sense only three?"

The Grand Master nodded. "Yes," he said, his voice still carrying that immense wisdom it had when she first met him, "three. I have no doubt they are powerful. The Light does not need numbers to defeat us if we allow our hubris to take hold."

Rarity hummed. "The more elite the guards," she said, "the less there are."

"Precisely," the Grand Master replied, the purple halo about his hidden eyes receding, only the aura about his head remaining, "prepare yourselves."

Douglas and Aimee advanced towards the next door, only slightly taller than Luna. They stacked up on its left, with Ellie and Hayden stacking on the right. The two Neophytes moved forwards, each grasping a handle, whilst Rainbow and the Grand Master stood in front of it, Rainbow's weapon aimed and the Grand Master's staff ready.

In silence, the Neophytes pulled, flinging open both doors. The PHALANXs and Rainbow moved in as one, encountering the blinding light of the Aether's sky, and a bridge to the Citadel's final tower. Penumbra, Luna and Rarity quickly followed, with the Shade Guards following up in the rear, the Neophytes turned to make sure nothing could follow.

Three statues, each at least three hundred metres tall, stood at the bridge's end. Unlike the walkway Nicholas had cut, this bridge was enormous, wide enough to take a Monolith for sure. Each statue was of a knight, though with bodies far larger than could be possible. Their armoured heads were tiny, barely larger than Penumbra's own, though stood atop bodies that looked like mountains from the distance.

Slowly, they began to move, their arms shifting as they brought their weapons to bear. Each step they took from their plinths sent a shockwave up the bridge, hitting the group stood a few kilometres away.

"Advance team," came the voice of Captain Staker, "you have a problem."

Rainbow Dash opened the communication panel on her left hoof. "We can get past them."

"Negative, not on your own."

"Victorious Jubilation," Rainbow said, putting on her most forceful voice, not that much different from her usual, "your reactors can't take the strain, it'll be a suicide mission."

The three statues made their way onto the bridge, marching single file, in perfect lockstep. The PHALANXs, save Rainbow, made their way into defensive positions, though each knew their weapons would be nigh useless.

"When was this ever not," Staker's voice lowered, before rising again, the silhouette of the Victorious Jubilation transforming into the bow of the cruiser's hull.

Rainbow seemed to realise his plan, sighing, she shook her head. "Copy that, hit them hard."

"Will do. Long live the Empire! Victorious Jubilation out."

When his transmission cut, a burst of light behind the ship propelled it forwards. The engines thundered, the hull around the engineering bay seeming to glow. The cannon fire ceased and the shields crackled and receded, the purple hull scorching black. With a deafening roar, it impacted the statues. They cut long swathes into its hull, before becoming embedded and being dragged along by it, the burning vessel speeding into the Citadel's walls. A flash of purple and an explosion from far below heralded the impact, with Rainbow closing her communicator's panel.

"Come on," Rainbow said, "let's not waste time."

The central tower loomed above as Penumbra turned back to the battlefield outside the Citadel. The first of the Monoliths had reached its walls, with Imperial soldiers already fighting to claim them. Another four cruisers advanced to fill the gap left by the Victorious Jubilation, with a sizeable force of fighters moving to assist. She smiled, before cantering back over to the group, who were entering the tower.

Unlike the surrounding towers, the central tower was incredibly bright. It reminded Penumbra of Cloudsdale back on Equestria, though more symmetrical in its appearance. They were in an atrium, which in itself was larger than the throne room in Canterlot, large enough for the group's voices to echo.

"Target's at the top of the tower," Rainbow said, "though I'm getting nothing on scanners, it's like there's not even a building above us."

The group looked about for a moment, the PHALANXs scanning and Shade Guard sensing to try and find a path up.

"Got it," Ellie said, "there's a stairway just beyond that do..."

She was cut off by a burst, followed by the sound of glass shattering. She staggered backwards, breaths coming out sharp and fast. Without warning, she collapsed, blue blood leaking from her helmet, which had been cut straight through by a crystal the size of Penumbra's horn.

"Ambush!" Douglas yelled, the PHALANXs opening fire at the far roof, where a host of daemons had revealed themselves. Hayden grabbed Ellie's body and pulled her back, whilst the rest of the group ducked behind the various ornaments and pillars in the room. The daemons dropped down, one by one, screeching violently as some of their number charged.

Penumbra's magical wrath was a sight to behold, lances of purple and shadow whipped and tore, slicing daemons in half with merely their shockwave. Yet, even her magical strength was unmatched to Rainbow Dash, who had launched herself with her robotic wings and barrelled straight into the enemy's rear, killing the ranged daemons with nothing more than her hooves.

The ambush was quickly settled, with Rainbow allowing herself a few more seconds to grind a daemon to dust before she sped back over to Hayden, who had Ellie propped up against a pillar.

"Hey," Rainbow said, "hey," She shook Ellie's body. "Wake up! You're gonna be okay. PHALANXs are invincible, right? Come on, wake up."

Douglas pulled her back slowly. "There's nothing we can do, come on, she'd want us to go ahead."

Though Rainbow's face was covered by her helmet, Penumbra knew she was crying. Even though she did so silently, the way she moved slowly, nodded her head slightly and didn't speak were the plainest of giveaways. Penumbra held in her tears, simply nodding in acceptance, she'd become used to death by now, Nicholas' training and tutelage had made her so strong; yet, she was unable to comfort her friend in any way.

The group made their way through the tower, leaving Ellie's body. Hayden had explained it was too much to carry, which Rainbow had accepted only after being promised it would not be touched. What few daemons they encountered were swiftly dealt with, Rainbow taking out her emotions on them, leaving pools of daemon blood in her wake. The stairway Ellie had indicated led only about halfway up the tower, leading the group to a large observation area, where Penumbra again decided to look out over the battlefield.

The Monolith was burning, its hull shattered by something, the soldiers on the wall had been replaced with drifting black smoke. Two of the cruisers lay, shattered and burning, on the ground, one having fallen onto the wall, its fellow having fallen into the Imperial lines. Only half of a third remained, the rear, hanging over the edge of the void filled ravine, plasma leaking slowly down. The fourth was just barely hovering, with only a cavernous gash left where half of its midsection should have been, plasma pouring from its engines. Its plasma lance kept firing, though the rest of its cannon batteries must have been dead.

A transmission came through on Rainbow's communicator. "This is Executioner Uluvan," Haisan's voice came through the speakers, his previous innocent aloofness replaced by a mounting worry, "we're getting cut to pieces down here. Whatever your plan is, do it now."

Penumbra pulled herself away from the window, moving to the centre of the room, where the group had gathered around a pillar of blue energy.

"This," the Grand Master said, "is an energy lift to the next floor."

"Then we've gotta hurry." Rainbow moved towards it, before being pulled back by Hayden. "Hey!" she shouted, bashing at their arm, "you heard Haisan, we can't wait any longer!"

"We will have to," the Grand Master said, "I cannot penetrate the wards that lie above this room, there could be untold numbers of daemons beyond this lift. In fact, there most certainly is."

Douglas stepped forwards. "We'll check," he said, "gather up Red Team. Em, you stay down here. If it goes to shit, wait an hour, then come up."

Em saluted. "It's been an honour, sir."

Douglas nodded. "It certainly has. Alright PHALANXs, let's go."

Together, they stepped into the lift, slowly rising above the group, weapons at the ready. A circle opened in the ceiling, allowing them to pass through, before closing again, the PHALANXs vanishing beyond all sensors.

Em continued looking up. "Been an honour," he muttered to himself.

The group waited for an hour, Em continuing to guard the lift, with Rainbow, Rarity, Luna and Penumbra all sitting together, whilst the Shade Guard held a communion. Rarity spoke for most of the time, mostly about her plans to open a new boutique once all was said and done.

"I would have initially chosen Chronove," she said, "but, apparently, they're not big on fashion there. Nicholas recommended Arcadius, its close to Chronove and is absolutely huge on fashion. Oh, darling, I say, some of the dresses he showed me were spectacular! Apparently the air there even smells like lavender! I think it will also be a perfect home for Luna: it has three moons! He showed me a picture of the sky on a clear night, beautiful darling, I've seen few things prettier."

"It's been an hour," Em said, drawing everyone's attention, "and they're not back."

"We're heading up," Penumbra cut off the Shade Guard before they could speak, "get ready."

They ringed the lift, everyone readying their weapons. Penumbra activated her sword, with Em switching his rifle's mode to shotgun. Rarity cautiously levitated her twin pistols, with Luna standing close to her, her rapier ahead of both of them. The Shade Guard stood together, staffs at standby. In unison, they entered the lift's well, which levitated them all together, up through the opening and the tower's expansive white walls.

When they emerged at the lift's end, they beheld a scene of utter devastation.

The ground over a metre from the lift was completely covered in the bodies of daemons. From the smallest imps to several armoured creatures. All were dead, bodies filled with bullet and knife wounds.

Around the lift were four PHALANX bodies, with crimson red armour. Em looked at them in turn. He shook his head when he came across Douglas, whose chest piece was shattered and visor badly cracked.

"Been an honour," he said, taking the captain's tags. He repeated his ritual for the rest of the team, storing their tags in one of his empty ammo pouches.

Rainbow Dash was silent, though, unlike previously, she wasn't crying. She walked up to Em, who didn't look at her.

"Stairway's up ahead," he said, "let's go."

The group moved on in silence, either not willing, or - in the case of the Neophytes - not able, to make conversation. Rainbow religiously checked her weapon as they went, with Em by her side, checking his shotgun's hammer. Luna and Rarity led the group, Rarity keeping her head high to avoid the sight of the corpses she was treading on, keeping her mind filled with images of grass, imagining she was simply stepping on flowers as they cracked beneath her.

The next stairway spiralled up along a circumference a hundred or so metres wide. Each step was only about a metre wide, with several cracked already. High above, echoing through the tower, daemons screeched and roared. Worse, from behind them came similar sounds, gradually becoming less and less muffled.

"Move up the stairs," Penumbra shouted, "swords at the front."

Em went up first, Luna following close behind, levitating her rapier ahead of the PHALANX. Penumbra stood just behind the Grand Master, in front of the two Neophytes and Rainbow Dash, who was keeping up the rear. The group advanced quickly, having made it about a hundred metres up before the doors below them opened, a horde of daemons spilling out.

The screeched and roared and clambered to get on the stairs, buying the group a few minutes of extra time. Eventually, though, one of the knights pushed their way through, thundering up the stairs as imps followed, halting their clamouring to form orderly - if violent - queues behind.

Every couple of steps, Rainbow would take a few potshots, killing or downing a few imps which were quickly trampled by their fellows, uncaring for losses as they were. The daemons, as athletic as they were murderous, quickly began to gain on the group, whose size, coupled with self preservation, had them practically tip-toeing along. Rainbow's potshots soon became controlled, short range bursts, staggering the larger daemons slightly and outright killing their smaller accompaniments.

The group reached a larger area of staircase, similar to a passing place, where Em turned suddenly as the group continued moving. "What are you doing?" Rainbow shouted as she came to a halt, "they're gaining!"

Em looked at her. "Go," he said, grimly, "I've gotcha back."

Rainbow shook her head. "No," she yelled, "not you as well, come on." She reached out to take his arm, only for one of the Neophytes to grab her. Despite their lithe appearance, they were exceptionally strong, Rainbow could move no part of her body but her mouth, which she used to yell out to Em and anyone who would listen, "put me down! Em, come on! We're not leaving him."

Em just nodded at her, throwing a charge down just above his position. He turned to the daemons. "You wanna piece of me? Come get it!"

He slamfired his shotgun into the knight, which slowly collapsed sideways with a groan, its chest ripped to shreds. Imps clambered over it, most falling to their deaths with it, the others being quickly liquidised by the rapid fire shotgun blasts.

"That was for Sam!"

Gradually, the shotgun blasts grew dimmer and dimmer, with Em himself becoming smaller and smaller as the group ran ahead, Rainbow looking back, yelling everything she could, tears coming faster than her helmet could recycle them.

Eventually, Em was replaced by a swarm of daemons, their glowing white and gold tumourous bodies practically smothering him. One last shotgun blast followed, throwing at least twenty of them down the hole.

"And that," came a final, triumphant shout, "that was for me!"

Suddenly, the stair was wreathed in flames, a thunderous crack echoing throughout the chamber. Below, the stair began to collapse, throwing hundreds of daemons to their deaths, coupled with the hundreds lost in the explosion. Rainbow fell silent, as did all of the group, coming to a halt far beyond the site of the explosion.

No one said anything, but enough of a message was given by their silence. Slowly, they turned back around, making their way up the rest of the stairs in a solemn and steady silence, lowering their weapons.

The chamber above held only a door, with a decently sized area for the group to rest. Luna and Rarity lay down, whilst Rainbow stood in abject silence, the Neophyte having placed her down and moved over to their fellow Shade Guard. Penumbra stood with Luna, recognising Rainbow's need for space.

They were given ten minutes to recuperate, regain their lost breath, before the Grand Master turned to them. "Ahead lies the final chamber," he said, "one final effort and we shall be in the heart. Our journey is nearly at an end."

He walked over to Penumbra, who had nodded her affirmative and motioned for her fellows to rise and make ready. To her shock, the Shade Guard put his free hand on her shoulder. "When the Emperor first told me about you," he said, voice low but still not a whisper, "I was wary. I did not believe you were the one, did not believe you were strong enough - in mind or body - to complete this task. I am thankful to say you have proven me wrong. It is realising this that I can say, for absolutely certain, that we will all survive the coming encounter." He chuckled to himself wryly. "Yes, all of us."

He turned back to his Neophytes, who stood in attentive silence, just like they always did. Penumbra thought his words over for a second, before deciding there was little point. She walked over to Rainbow, who was still quiet and hadn't moved since she was put down.

"Rainbow," she said, "I know you need to mourn, but we have to go. Em wouldn't want us waiting here, he'd want us finishing our mission. Then we can mourn for him and all of the others."

Rainbow nodded, reluctantly. "I know," she admitted, "but, I can't help it. Even after everything: all of the fighting, the missions, the trials, the death; I'm still just that pegasus I was in Equestria. Still as weak as I was then."

Penumbra put her clawed hoof on Rainbow's shoulder. "Look at us," she said, "we're stronger now; we're better now. Who we were before, they're still inside us; even if we've changed our outsides, we can't change our insides, our fundamentals - but we can change how we use them. What matters is we do the right thing, no matter how much it hurts or what we have to do to get it done. Now, are you with me?"

Rainbow looked to her. "Hay yes."

Penumbra smiled, before turning back to the door. She made her way in front of it, turning back to the group to give a speech. "Alright," she said, "we've come far. We all had our doubts initially, we said it couldn't be done. Now look. We're on the verge of victory. We've lost many friends on the way, some would say too many. But, their sacrifices will not be in vain, are not in vain. Because, here we are, one final effort, one final push, away from victory. Now, let's go kick some tail!"

"Hoorah!" Rainbow and Rarity yelled, the armoured PHALANX pegasus surprised at her unicorn friend's demeanour. Luna clapped, whilst the Shade Guard remained silent, but Penumbra could tell the Grand Master at least was appreciative.

The doors opened to reveal the last thing she wanted to see.

The steps leading up to the Great Light's heart were about a kilometre away, across an open field swarming with more daemons than she had ever seen. Imps were like grass, with knights as shrubs and the mightiest statue daemons as trees. There was silence, the daemons seeming to ignore them as they traipsed along small paths, patrolling routes of a few metres long at most.

In unison, every daemon turned to the door. They looked at it in silence, neither side daring to make a move. The standoff continued until Rarity, twin pistols already prepared, blasted a pair of fist sized holes through a knight's head, killing it instantly.

"Take that," she snarled, "you brute."

Carnage broke loose. Daemons charged, imps being trampled by fellow imps or knights, with the statue daemons blatantly just crushing dozens of their fellows with every step. The Imperial group met them with what firepower they had: Rainbow's saddle rifle cut imps apart like they were paper; whilst Rarity's pistols were like scalpels, slicing body parts off the larger creatures or achieving pinpoint headshots on the smaller. The Shade Guard's most basic of spells simply deleted dozens of daemons at a time, whilst Twilight and Luna bisected any who got too close.

Even with their effort, it was clear they couldn't hold the seemingly infinite tide back for long. 'Help,' Penumbra thought, 'if we don't get help soon, this is it.'

Barely a minute later, as if willed by magic, a cracked and battered silhouette emerged from cloud cover. Trailing plasma, with immense gashes through its hull, emerged a cruiser, the same she had seen from the observation point. Energy whirled in its centre, around the plasma lance, as it prepared to fire.

"Prepare," came a transmission from the ship, crackling and barely audible, over every communication device the group had, "we shall clear a path."

Its plasma lance lit up, burning a hole straight through the daemon lines, evaporating tens of thousands of them in a second. Steadily, it moved towards the group, singeing Penumbra's fur as it did. It stopped when its area of effect was barely a metre from them, before doubling back and burning a swathe clean through the daemons once again, who had reformed where their brethren had been killed.

As one, the group surged forwards, filling the gap left by the beam and staying just behind its greatest range. The floor of the field, originally a whitish dirt, had become twinkling volcanic glass, littered with the ash of the daemons who had inhabited it seconds previously.

Small drop pods landed all around them, dispensing black armoured Rangers, who suicidally jumped into the onrush of daemons, slashing whatever came close with swords or blowing them apart with rifles. The group ran, ignoring the daemons and the heavily outnumbered soldiers fighting them as best they could.

Finally, the group hit the marble staircase, the plasma lance fading away in front of them as the cruiser turned to burn the field again. A dozen Rangers had landed on the stairs, clearing it of what few daemons had been on it before their arrival. As the group moved up past them, they dashed down to provide a rearguard.

Suddenly, Rainbow turned, unleashing a hail of fire into the charging daemons. The vast majority of the dropped Rangers had been overrun, though another dozen or so had pulled back to the stairs. Penumbra was the only one to notice, turning to grab her.

"Rainbow!" She shouted, "come on, we can't waste any more time."

To her shock, Rainbow punched her chest, sending her careering backwards. "Go," she yelled in reply, "don't deny me this."

A pair of Rangers ran alongside her, carrying rocket launchers. "Sight for us," one of them said, "give us a line!"

Rainbow directed them with a laser on her rifle saddle, marking a pair of knights and one of the statue daemons' wounded legs. The knights were completely obliterated, becoming little better than flying mush, whilst the statue daemon's knee was blown out, causing it to slowly collapse onto a host of its smaller fellows. The Neophytes turned next, forming up just behind Rainbow, with the Grand Master slowly following them.

"Where are you going?" Penumbra shouted, "the objective's this way."

The Grand Master turned to her. "Your objective is," he said, "ours is here. Go!" He turned back, lifting his staff into the air. "Mysterios en corpus."

Arcs of purple lightning shot from the three Shade Guards' staffs, melting dozens of daemons as it danced between them. The smell of ozone filled the air, coupled with the pungent stench of burning flesh. Penumbra was grabbed from behind by Rarity and Luna.

"Let's go," Luna said, "no point wasting more time."

As much as Penumbra hated to admit it, she was right, and it was better that Rainbow die than they all do. She nodded glumly, before following Luna and Rarity up the stairs and into the final hall. Her final view of Rainbow Dash was the pegasus taking flight and knocking back a whole horde of daemons, whilst the Rangers around her fought for their lives.

The final room was enormous, almost entirely featureless save a large hole in the circle. Luna and Rarity led forwards, Penumbra following behind, looking about as to where an exit would be.

"Well," Luna said, looking about, "I think we're lost."

Something rumbled below.

"No," she said again, "wait, I think I was wrong."

From the hole rose a writhing mass of white and gold, not holding any form long enough for Penumbra to recognise it as anything. Its insides became its outsides and outsides its insides every few seconds, writhing against some invisible containment.

"Twilight," a disembodied voice echoed in Penumbra's mind, almost dead sounding in its tone, "you have been betrayed."

Penumbra knew the source of the voice. 'How so?' She thought.

"Nicholas has led you astray," it said, "killed your friends, killed Celestia. He sent you here to kill me as I am all that stands between him and total domination." The voice slowly shifted, from masculine to feminine, to child-like and back again.

'He had told me you'd be tricksy. That you'd try to fight me verbally.'

The voice seemed to laugh. "Fight you? No, I don't have the power to do so. I'm not trying to convince you, simply educate you. If you wish to kill me, then kill me. But, please, listen to what I have to say before you do."

'Very well.' Penumbra had already decided on her course of action, there was nothing this abomination could do to stop her. Some part of her, however, was still interested as to what it had to say.

"I have seen all," it said, "all of time go slowly by. Over time, I have listened, influenced, assisted, all in a lead up to this moment. Nicholas was not who I fought against at first, I fought his master. His master was my greatest enemy: the Darkness. For billions of years I have fought, battled to keep the Omniverse bright, keep it orderly. Now, at the culmination of my work, all threatens to be undone. He did not tell you of the consequences of this battle, did he? He did not tell you that all of the dimensions will collapse, that the Omniverse will be wreathed in darkness for the rest of time, all creatures enslaved to chaos and corruption. I know you have your mind set on killing me, I know you serve the Darkness - if unknowingly. So, I ask you this, please, when you destroy me, take my place. Hold the Omniverse together, keep it bright and orderly, keep it away from the darkness and chaos that now encroaches on my Citadel. Please, Twilight Sparkle, I beg of you."

Penumbra hummed. 'And how do I know you are telling the truth?'

"You don't," the voice said, at least it was honest, "not fully. That is why I am leaving it to your judgement."

"Penumbra," Luna shouted, breaking her from her trance, "destroy it!"

Penumbra hesitated, part of her resisting blindly destroying what was ahead of her. Imagine, she thought, the knowledge it held, imagine the power. Surely, she thought, she didn't need to kill it; she could tame it, work with it. She had triumphed against far more hostile creatures without the need for violence, hadn't she?

"What power do you hold?" She asked the Light aloud.

"Power," it replied, audibly, "beyond the wildest imaginings of any creature. The power to shape the universe, to temper the stars, even to forge life."

Penumbra grinned. "And I could have that power?"

"If you so desired."

She nodded, imagining herself in the future. The dawn was just rising over a new Equestria, one built exactly to her liking, with her family, friends, all ponies living together in perfect harmony, no chaos to threaten their existence ever again. No illness to blight them or age to weary them. No Nicholas to set their planet aflame.

"The temptor," a voice echoed behind her, it sounded like Princess Celestia, "shall fall to the hand of the tempted. So it was written, so it shall be."

Penumbra turned to behold a twisted reflection of Celestia. She was taller, standing a full three metres above her, with an emaciated frame, with glowing eyes a uniform green. Her wings, along with patches of her skin, appeared to have decayed and lost their feathers or fur, replaced instead by dead grey flesh or pulsing tumours that seemed to flow with green blood. All around her was an aura, similar to the magical corona around Penumbra's horn, though it covered her entire body and was a sickly green.

"Light," she said, voice seeming to mix with another, one that sounded similar to Nicholas', though more musical and ethereal, "be silent!"

She rushed forwards, decayed wings somehow giving her incredible speed. She slammed into the Light's mass, causing it to shift awkwardly. Tentacles of green and black wrapped around it, sprouting from all over her body. The Light writhed and tried to fight back, pulling the tentacles into its mass. Though, when one area was pulled under, another was freed, or remade anew within a second. The two seemed locked at an impasse, neither side capable of gaining an advantage over the other long enough to exploit it.

"Kill it!" The not-quite-Celestia's voice echoed, "smother it, now!"

At those words, Penumbra's rational mind took hold again, shaking off the last vestiges of the Light's influence over her. The corona around her horn doubled in size and tripled in intensity in an instant, as she readied the only spell she knew for certain would do the job.

"No!" The Light yelled, though its pleas landed on deaf ears.

"Kar'oi. Nayeel. Jarun'."

Far away, a star exploded.

The Light's mass seemed to darken, from alabaster white and gold to a more subdued grey. Millions of voices emerged from it, crying out a million phrases in a million languages, each one registering in Penumbra's mind as the same thing:

"Run."

As the Light darkened further, the Citadel began to rumble. Further still, and it began to collapse. It quickly dawned on all inside that this was no mere coincidence.

"Twilight," Celestia said, now solely her voice, the green aura and glowing eyes gone and replaced with a dull red respectively, "go. This is no place for you to die."

Celestia seemed to dissipate, becoming a barrier of green energy, which held the collapsing roof up, allowing the three ponies to escape. The walkway cracked as they went, looking dangerously close to simply dropping them into the abyss by the time they reached the door.

They emerged into a scene of utter devastation. All that remained of the Grand Master was his helmet, a single crack travelling up most of its length, through the right eyepiece. The two Neophytes were dead on opposite sides of the staircase, one without their arms and the other totally disembowelled. The Rangers were far worse off, torn in half or sometimes in quarters, their blood and entrails scattered about the stairs like grisly ornaments. Only one of the defenders remained alive, but even then only barely, lying in a pool of their own blood and organs, hacking violently as the three approached them.

"Rainbow!" Rarity kneeled next to the battered pegasus, whose helmet was cracked and shattered in multiple places. "It's going to be alright, dear, we'll get you out."

Rainbow seemed to laugh, though with her permanent hacking cough and blood filled mouth it could have been anything. "Nah," she said, voice sounding more like her own than it had in months, "you're not. We all have our last fight eventually, this is mine."

"Oh." Rarity was barely holding back tears. "Don't say that, you're coming with us and that's final."

Rainbow lifted a shaky hoof, slowly clipping off her helmet with it. "No," she said, again, between bouts of coughing. "You couldn't even get me to a ship alive, I'm staying here, you go get yourself back home, get a nice place, all that stuff. Me? I'm going to enjoy my final rest."

She threw her helmet to the ground beside her, revealing a face none of the ponies had seen since she was first augmented. There was a scar from her left temple to her lower left jaw, crossing a cheek that, like its fellow, was gaunt and hollow. Her eyes were grey, devoid of any colour save the splotches of blood from burst vessels. Her rainbow mane was cropped short on the sides, with enough length on top to fall squarely to her left.

She reached a hoof into her armour's neck, tugging at something within. There was a sound of snapping string, before she pulled out a pair of tags. She handed them to Rarity, who took them reluctantly, eyes tearing up but refusing to move from her friend's face.

"Remember me, would ya?"

Rarity nodded, holding the tags close to her chest. "Penumbra," she said, "take them, I know you'll get out." Penumbra took them, giving her a questioning look, at which she clarified, "if I die," she said, wiping a tear from her face, "I'll lose them."

Penumbra nodded, before the sound of cracking stone reminded her they needed to move quickly. She gave Rainbow one last look, the pegasus having lent her head back, closing her eyes. Her chest was still rising and falling, though slowly, she looked at peace, had she been in any other situation Penumbra probably would have joined her, but not today.

They sprinted down the stairs, heading for the edge of the large open platform. There, waiting for them, was the damaged cruiser, its hangar bay doors open, hovering a couple of feet from the stone and dirt. Fusiliers lined the open area, shouting and beckoning them over, keeping a space open for them to jump. It was Rarity who reached the jump first, propelled by Luna's magic. She jumped, landing square on the very edge of the hangar, a pair of Fusiliers pulling her in. They moved aside to allow Luna in, the alicorn simply taking flight and entering.

"Come on," one, a sergeant, yelled to Penumbra, "let's get going!"

She was only a few metres away when a sudden white flash blinded her, followed by a shockwave knocking her back. The central spire had collapsed, slicing cleanly the stern of the cruiser. The bow, with nothing to hold it afloat, drifted slowly downwards, venting plasma and burning as it went. Penumbra's only hope of escape was slowly falling into the void below, its inhabitants either dead or soon to be so.

First Pinkie Pie, then Fluttershy, then Applejack, then Rainbow, now Rarity and Luna. Her friends, her best friends, who'd been with her for so long; they were all gone. Penumbra couldn't bring herself to move, rather, just lie back, where she had been thrown, tears welling in her eyes that would never fall, her mind flashing forth memories of her friends, from their first meetings to the last times she saw them.

"Aw, shucks Twi. Didn't think you had such a soft spot for me."

AJ? She pulled herself up to just to look for the source of the voice.

"Ya know, I always loved to look out over the town at sunset."

Penumbra slowly walked forwards, following the voice, which was coming from the very edge of the platform.

"Even on the days where ya feel it can't get worse, ya always feel better just looking out over everything."

Penumbra looked over the edge, taking in the whole of the collapsing Citadel as she did. Its walls had fallen, most of its smaller towers little better than piles of rubble. There was still, however, a strange beauty to it all. The whites and the golds were still pleasant on the eye, the little orange fires so far away seemed almost like little fireflies. She took in the whole scene, smiling to herself as she accepted its beauty for what it simply was.

At the edge of the Citadel's collapsed walls, hung a lone cruiser. Its hull was relatively clean, no deep gashes or mortal wounds to speak of, its engines all running smoothly. There were no vessels or soldiers about it, everyone must have fled earlier. So why was it here?

"Penumbra," a voice crackled over her helmet's transmitter, barely audible and totally indistinct through the static, but definitely there, "this is the Glorious Dawn. If you're still there, get down to us."

"I'm coming," she said, unsure if her transmitter even still worked, but holding out hope it did. Without a run up, she threw herself from the platform, spreading her wings out wide and gliding herself down to the ship.

From the air, she could truly appreciate the sheer size of the Citadel: it seemed even larger than from the ground. From where she was, she could see almost its entire size, marvelling at the distance from the now ruined gatehouse where she had entered to where she was now. What remained of the walls looked little more than lines on a page from the Citadel's spire, with the towers that used to mark them like tiny pins.

She saw, far beneath her, the bridge that Nicholas had cut, only its terminators remaining, with even them now cracking and on the verge of disappearing into the void below. She saw, behind her, the central tower, where Red Team had sacrificed themselves to clear a path up to the spire, where their bodies now rested, all the way up to the spire, where the rest had given their lives so the Great Light could be smothered.

A pair of fighters came alongside her, keeping at just enough of a distance to not too heavily knock her off of her flight path. 'Left Hangar,' one of the pilots signed to her, 'open, land there.' She nodded in response.

She passed just in front of a collapsing tower, one of the four that ringed the central, the rush of wind buffeting her slightly. Her two companions waved off, darting towards the open hangar, which was clearly coming into Penumbra's view.

The hangar was rapidly growing larger, with her landing in sight. Fortunately for her, she had picked up a number of skills from all the flying she had had to undertake, which would allow her to bring herself to a stop once within, even encased in armour as she was. Passing through the threshold of the hangar, she spread her wings out to their full length, slowing her enough for her impact to be relatively peaceful.

"She's aboard," a Fusilier with a communication pack yelled, "go!"

The engines audibly thundered, the ship lurching from a hover to rapidly accelerating movement. Penumbra ran to the express elevator, slamming the control to the bridge the moment she entered. Mercifully, the elevators had been designed with immense speed in mind, Penumbra finding herself on the bridge within a few seconds of the doors closing.

"Situation report," she yelled to anyone who would listen as she emerged.

A leftenant turned to her. "Main tower's collapsing, ma'am," they said, worry evident in their voice and mannerisms, "right towards us."

The captain's chair was empty, with Haisan standing over the helmsman's shoulder. "Give it everything, shields won't stop a building."

"I am, sir," the helmsman said, all the speed levers and dials turned up to the maximum, "there's nothing left to give."

Haisan slammed a fist onto the table, before sighing. "Well, let's hope."

"Twilight," Celestia's voice echoed in her mind, "you know what you have to do."

Penumbra knew exactly what she was talking about.

She pushed her way to the central console, drawing the eye of the vessel's captain, stood beside a tactical officer. "What're you doing?" He asked, "stay away from that."

Penumbra didn't bother to even look at him, slamming her clawed foot onto the Rift engage.

At once, the ship's view panel, previously filled with the expansive white, featureless terrain of the Aether, became black and wreathed in purples and reds. The ship rocked violently as it went, emerging barely seconds later into the dark void of space.

Nothing moved, everyone was silent, for a moment.

"Sensors," Haisan said, pointing to the officer manning the sensor console.

He tapped away for a moment, before replying, "we're clear, sir."

The atmosphere of the bridge shifted instantly, from terror to jubilation. Their revelry was loud and boisterous, a sentiment quickly echoed all over the ship, the thousands strong crew erupting into celebration.

"Alright," Haisan proclaimed to the bridge crew, "let's get home."

"Sir," the sensor officer spoke up again, "we're in orbit around Chronove, recommend we move to dock."

Haisan smiled. "Get it done, helm." He turned to Penumbra, recognising the look on her face. He walked over, placing a reassuring hand on her leg. "They'll be remembered," he said, "they all will."

"I just wish they'd lived to see it," was her reply.

Haisan nodded, leaving her be whilst he communicated with the dock's controllers. Penumbra, meanwhile, walked towards the viewscreen, with Chronove just coming into view.

Penumbra looked out of the viewscreen, surveying the new world. She could see the blazing lights of the city planet, along with the thousands of warships that wreathed its atmosphere. In orbit hung giant installations, from docks for entire fleets to orbital defence platforms the size of cities. She remembered her friends, content in the knowledge their sacrifice had served to make this moment, and every other moment she would have thereafter. She smiled, imagining each of their reactions to this new sight.

"Beautiful, ain't it," Applejack's voice said, "just darn beautiful."

?

Eternal Emperor Nicholas, Master of Time, stood amongst darkness. Only the faint breeze of nullspace, reminded him he was still in one piece, and of where he was.

“The Great Light is smothered," he said, the reason why quickly revealing itself.

The Eternal Blackness turned from presence to creature in front of him, resembling a thick, black scaled snake with neither eyes nor mouth. “Indeed it is," it said, voice deep and foreboding, "I must admit, without you I would not have been victorious. I congratulate you, Nicholas, Survivor. I congratulate you on the destruction of the light.”

“And yet it was not I who destroyed it.”

“Was it not?" The Eternal Blackness seemed to chuckle. "Whilst you did not personally silence its ravenous maw, shatter its guarding gates or smother its baleful glow, it was you who made it vulnerable. And it was you who raised the ones who performed those deeds. Were it not for you, none of this would have been possible.”

“And what of the others? Where are they now?” Nicholas questioned, though he believed he knew the answer.

“Returned, to the material. Where they shall live out the rest of their years in freedom and harmony.”

Nicholas reached out with his power, only to find nothing. “The Omniverse is shattered…”

"Shattered?" The Eternal Blackness interrupted, correcting him, "no, definitely not. Exhausted? Yes. It is a force of nature, Nicholas, it shall heal. As all wounds do.”

“Yet this wound does not simply cut deep," Nicholas continued to try and find something, anything of the rest of the Omniverse. "Even here I can feel it: emptiness. The Rift, the Aether, the Tract – all is gone.”

The Eternal Blackness laughed. “Indeed, the machinations of the Light have been made ash. All peoples are free of its slavery!” It's voice was triumphant.

“In exchange for an age of darkness. The Omniverse is no more, all is and will be dust.”

The Eternal Blackness' tone changed. “Has the mighty Nicholas fallen to doubt?" It questioned, "we have won, darkness has prevailed! Freedom is victorious! Surely you can feel that.”

“Freedom from what? The slavery of the light has been replaced by the slavery of the dark, the shackles of the spirit replaced by the shackles of the sky.”

The Eternal Blackness was silent for a moment, before bellowing, “how dare you! I have brought freedom to the Omniverse! This age of darkness is how it should be…”

“Silence, wretch."

Nicholas grabbed it in one hand, crushing it between his claws, its snake like body writhing for a moment, before falling limp. “All is thus dust. Whilst those in the material are confined to their earthly plains, I am cursed to wander forevermore. Cursed to search in desperate hope this corpse of a universe for a chance at life anew. For in this new undeath I have made for myself, I am alone; just as I was in that machine. And thus, I shall wander, alone, Everlasting.”

XX. Beneath

Author's Note

The content warnings apply to this chapter, which is mostly background lore and isn't necessary to understand the story. If you wish to read the chapter but wish to skip the surgical descriptions, skip at the first horizontal line to the second one.

XX. Beneath

“When the new Emperor came upon the world of Zelios, he was met by the Duke of Autumn. As part of a plot to kill the new Emperor, they brought forth a tank of The Ether, a hyperpotent drug only a Zelian can safely consume. Though the Emperor sensed the plot, he consumed The Ether regardless, breathing in the entire tank. There was not so much as a change in his body temperature, forcing even the Duke of Autumn - whose independence he had asserted for nearly a century - to bow before their new Emperor.”

- The Rise of the Emperor by Anna Strik -

The Eternal Emperor, Nicholas The Everlasting, Master of Time, sighed.

He had been staring at a theoretical brief, the creation of a group of trusted scientists, into the nature of the Great Light's physical - for want of a better term - form. The paper said, in no uncertain terms, that he could not kill the Great Light. At first, he had questioned why, demanding an answer and believing that his will trumped that of fact. It took one of the scientists explaining his own powers to him for him to be fully convinced.

"You can't," they said, "because you and the Great Light are like matter and antimatter. If you try to destroy the Great Light with your powers, you will just destroy each other. But, since the Great Light is larger in terms of amount than you, it will survive and you will die."

He had, reluctantly, accepted defeat. Though not at the hands of the Great Light. He bore almost the entire power of one of the primordial forces of the Omniverse, the Great Light was the other. Nicholas relied on the Darkness within him to survive, though he had far more power than just that.

The thought suddenly clicked: if he couldn't do it, get someone else to. Though the idea was so simple, it just might work. All he would need was someone powerful enough, he could design them any number of weapons to kill the Great Light provided they had the strength to back it up. Kaurava's songs could probably do the trick, though more condensed, something the Great Light wouldn't have the time to defend against. Perhaps, he thought, rather than a song, a killing word? Or words?

A killing voice, to carry the power needed to kill the Great Light. All he needed was to shorten Kaurava's songs, making them more dangerous to the wielder, granted, but also more dangerous to everyone else. A phrase would be less cumbersome than a song, also, able to be used quickly or in rapid succession, should it be needed. He could make a killing voice, relatively easily, the problem was finding someone to use it. All those that he knew were powerful enough would fall foul of the same reason he couldn't do it. An ordinary mortal, theoretically, may be able to use it, but even the knowledge of such a powerful killing spell might just kill them instead of his target.

The only creatures powerful enough were of his own creation, like Kaurava or Kyhron, so they were out; or, some of the more powerful beings in the Dauxite Assembly, who were all dead.

Or were they?

Nicholas delved into Chronove's databases, trawling through enormous amounts of data pertaining to every living being in the Assembly's records, disused since the Great Rebellion billions of years prior. One species in particular stood out: from the planet the Assembly had called Xayanth, a Precursor species, relatively new to the Assembly when the Great Rebellion wiped them out. The latest Assembly record keeping showed an access of the Shield World known as Cradle by a creature the world's AI had identified as "Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra" one of, if not, the first Assembly encounters with the species. This "Penumbra" had accessed and deactivated the entire portal complex of Cradle, preventing the Great Rebellion from spreading to that area, effectively saving the installation. Other records, those of messages from one of those studying Penumbra's species, had identified Xayanth as being nearby to Cradle, as well as another Shield World: Sanctum. From what data he could gather, Penumbra was more than powerful enough to carry a killing voice. Unlike the Assembly, Penumbra's species may not have gone extinct, given that they effectively cauterised access to Cradle.

He made a note to look into the matter further, turning his attention to a more practical and immediate task: the elimination of the rebel nobility.

The next planet on his list was in the Ivar system, home of the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess Thana. According to records, they had a son on the verge of adulthood, Duke Alastair. If he could be turned, excellent, if not he would be disposed of.

High Admiral Sol, a youthful looking woman with short blonde hair, mostly covered by her officers cap, stood over the partially cocooned Rainbow Dash. The cyan pegasus, now knowing she was permanently disabled, had followed the advice of the PHALANX Em, asking one of the doctors to bring High Admiral Sol to her. The High Admiral had arrived only after Em was consulted, the PHALANX having given a personal recommendation to what they described as a "promising new candidate."

When Sol had first seen Rainbow Dash, she had shook her head and prepared to leave. She had immediately remembered why she usually didn't listen to Em, especially given his notoriety when it came to messing with command. She had only stayed because the pegasus had tried to shake her hand, even when her foreleg was clearly broken and also tied back with bandages.

"Do you have any idea what the PHALANX project entails?"

Rainbow Dash laughed. "Of course: armour and guns."

Sol chuckled, before chastising herself and forcing back a smile. She did, though, pull up a stool next to Rainbow's bed, looking the pegasus up and down before speaking again. "There was someone in my family," she said, "long ago now, who was just like you. They were brash, jovial, crazier than you, of course, a lot crazier than you. But, they turned out to be one of the most highly awarded people the Empire has ever seen. I'm only staying here now because I think that they would like you."

"Who were they?"

"Admiral Argent Sol, first member of my family to join the military, started a tradition that's been going on for over eleven thousand years. Won two Stars of the Obsidian Throne, the highest order in the Empire. Every person in my family since has tried to live up to them. I'm one of several to get above their rank, I've commanded an entire WarFleet when they commanded only one ship, but I'm still nowhere near up to their pedestal. They commanded that ship for one hundred and nineteen years straight, not once taking a holiday or anything. They didn't even retire, they died covering the escape of their first officer whilst on an assignment raiding a pirate base. Oddly enough, their joyfriend was originally a pirate, most highly awarded pairing in Imperial history, those two. Three Stars of the Obsidian Throne, nine Stars of the Irenton Empire, seven Orders for Merit in Defence of the Empire and eighteen Imperial Combat Merits Gold Class. It's an even bigger achievement when you realise both were what we'd now classify as insane and totally unfit for the job, Argent shouldn't have been able to get a commission, let alone a Supercarrier, and Hayden shouldn't even have been allowed in the military, they were both sociopaths, sadomasochists, had multiple personalities and were near instant to anger but both represented the Empire far better than I could ever hope to. The reason I'm telling you all of this, is because you're now in the PHALANX project, no backing out now I'm afraid, and I like my new recruits to hear that story. Because, although I could never live up to Argent Sol, I hope that they might."

Rainbow had been told only one thing about what the PHALANX project actually entailed: "pain," which had really helped her not become anxious about it as a squad of Fusiliers led her out of the medical facility on a hovering bed, loaded her onto a dropship and ferried her up to the enormous, grey, blocky form of a Carrier, hanging a few hundred miles above.

The Carrier, which High Admiral Sol informed her was technically named the "IESS Triumph of Tycon" though was referred to by its personnel as simply "The Carrier", was the home - so to speak - of Project: PHALANX. All the facilities needed to produce the equipment for PHALANXs, as well as the PHALANXs themselves, was onboard, along with suitable quantities of ship-based armaments as to ward off most attackers.

She was brought straight from the dropship to a meeting room by a pair of PHALANXs, their armour gunmetal grey and polished to a shine. The two brought her hovering bed to a rest at one end of the table, then filed out, not even a stray look from them.

"This." High Admiral Sol pointed the roomful of officers, doctors and three helmetless PHALANXs towards Rainbow's bed. "Is Rainbow Dash, the newest candidate for the PHALANX project."

One of the helmetless PHALANXs, wearing dark blue armour with number of scars along his face, gave her a look seemingly comprised of pure hatred, before speaking, voice loud, rough and apparently permanently angry, "are you fucking joking, Sol? Is this some kind of practical fucking joke? Our PHALANXs get thrown into fucking hell twice for no fucking reason and this fucking thing is how we replace them?"

Another helmetless PHALANX, this one wearing forest green armour, with a smoother, but no less rugged face, interrupted, thankfully not ascribing to the military theory that swearing more makes you a better soldier. "If you have a better idea, Lucius, why don't you tell us? Otherwise, keep silent, the grownups are talking."

To Rainbow's surprise, the blue PHALANX didn't say another word.

"Now," the green PHALANX continued, "why has this candidate been chosen?"

High Admiral Sol looked to her. "A combination of reasons," she said, "firstly, a recommendation from a PHALANX operative. Secondly, I believe she has courage, which she showed to me when I first encountered her. Thirdly, her file reports she had a natural proficiency for flying, enabling the creation of a specialised wingsuit that she will not need to be trained to control. Finally, I received this recommendation." She slid a black, puck-shaped, holographic projector onto the table, which lighted to reveal an image of Emperor Nicholas.

"This one," he said, "shows far greater promise than any other prospective candidate. Given proper materials, she can easily be inducted into your Project. She has, in the past, flown faster than the speed of sound using only her natural wings, if you needed more practical evidence. I have no doubt she will make the ideal PHALANX soldier."

The holographic projector flicked off and High Admiral Sol rose from her seat. "Any questions?"

There were none.

She nodded/ "Doctor Alphyas, I want you to run a simulation of the augmentation process needed to bring her up to PHALANX requirements. Doctor Tiber, I want you to prepare augmentation instruments based on the simulation that Doctor Alphyas will provide. Commodore Young shall have engineering design a PHALANX suitable armour and weapons system for the candidate to use. First Admiral Horrocks and I will oversee the final augmentation process and develop a flash training regimen for her to use. We're on the clock here, Emperor Nicholas expects results and we are going to give them to him no matter what it costs."

Rainbow had been led into a holding area, with the only comfort being a screen allowing her to watch a number of Imperial entertainment shows. The doctor who had delivered her had recommended something called "Sharpe," a show about a gruff soldier type during a period called the Perseus Acquisition. Rainbow had, initially, only put it on because she didn't know what else to do, but was quickly enamoured by its story, costume design and characters.

She had become so engrossed in the story, she didn't even notice the hours go by. Fusilier-Colonel Sharpe was leading a company of Fusiliers, their armour similar but greyer and more blocky than the Fusiliers she had seen, from his regiment up a ridge during the invasion of Uriel VI, he was crouched low, sniper fire constantly pinging at the lip of rock barely an inch above his head, artillery thundering in the distance, before he suddenly vanished and was replaced by a black screen, then a pair of doctors.

Both wore full face rebreathers, attached to a small pack on their lower backs, as well as a surgical mask. One held a gun-like implement containing a vial of yellow, viscous liquid attached to a syringe, which they planted into Rainbow's neck, the pegasus feeling an odd heat arising from the entrance point but nothing too out of the ordinary.

"Priming serum delivered, suspect is primed, preparing for transfer."

Suddenly, Rainbow was struck with immense pain all over her body, like fire was flowing instead of blood. She let out a startled yelp and struggled violently and vainly against the restraints the doctors had quickly placed her in. Her every breath came out staggered and hacking, as though she could hardly breathe at all and the sclera of her eyes ran yellow, the same sickly colour as the liquid in the vial.

She didn't hear what else the doctors said, or paid much attention to their movements, such was the agony she was in. As she was, writhing against her restraints, she was mostly deafened and her eyes practically welded shut. Her passage of time was so warped that, when she opened her eyes again, she was in a dimly lit, empty, grey room adjacent to the operating theatre, which she was informed by the two medical Fusiliers in the room with her was halfway across the ship from where she had been previously.

Her bandages had been removed, as had the restraints, with Rainbow realising that she had been unconscious for what may have been an embarrassing amount of time. "How long was I out?"

"Seven hours." One of them said, no movement to indicate which. "Your restraints and bandages were removed, you won't need them anymore."

Rainbow nodded, rising slowly, aware of the painful tension in her back and shoulders. She rolled it off as best she could, before one of the Fusiliers spoke again, "no use getting comfortable," they said, "the operating theatre is next door, Doctor Tiber is waiting for you."

She hopped from the bed, before realising why she was in it in the first place when she felt and heard her bones compress and groan. She held back a groan of pain, before trudging towards the door, which, mercifully, opened automatically. Doctor Tiber was, as expected, waiting for her, fully decked out in rebreather as well as a surgical gown and mask.

She nodded meekly at her, to which Doctor Tiber gestured to the metal table that lay ahead of her. The pegasus limped towards it, climbing up onto it, with Tiber attaching her in, arms and legs splayed open, cuffed in with thick bands of metal that Rainbow had no hope of cracking.

"The procedure," Tiber said, "is a long one, which will involve a number of automated movements of the table to enable us to properly access the relevant pieces of your anatomy."

Rainbow chuckled, worriedly. "What? No, 'you won't feel a thing' talk or anything?"

Tiber looked at her. "You will feel it all," she said, "anaesthetic combined with the drugs we shall give you to augment you would kill you. Hopefully, you pass out from the pain early on."

To Rainbow's horror, she turned and left, the doctor genuinely serious about lack of anaesthetic. "Heh, I've changed my mind," she called out, before yelling it in fear as several very wicked looking instruments rose from panels in the ground.

She yelped in shock when needles in her restraints bit into her skin, releasing something that did anything but calm her down. A pair of needles came up from the floor on either side of her neck, slowly approaching then jabbing her, dispensing something that made her itch, the itch quickly spreading from the entrance point of the needles to all over her body, though she couldn't move at all to fix it.

The needles retracted, before being replaced by something that sounded worryingly like a pair of drills, coming in on either of her temples. Further down, at her abdomen, a small, circular saw approached, with a pair of small, knife-like implements approaching either side of the bottom of her ribs. Though the reflection was small, it gave her a relatively good look at herself. She looked like plain old Rainbow Dash, save her mane had been cut to the skin and her eyes were yellowish, pupils wide open in abject terror. She then saw the two drills nearing her temples, which caused her to scream out something unintelligible, with even Rainbow herself not knowing what she'd said.

The drills took an agonisingly long time to approach, Rainbow being able to feel the spinning of their bits for about a minute before they made contact with her skin. It was frightfully cold, before becoming frightfully hot as they burrowed through her skin and into her skull. She didn't scream, just lay back, teeth clenched, unable to move as the pain suddenly registered. After boring a pair of clean holes into her skull, the drills retracted, another pair of smaller needles entering in their place. From the ceiling above her came a number of implements that appeared to be wires of some kind, though in Rainbow's state of mind they could have been anything. Two entered up her nostrils, another pair her ears, with the last four fiddling with her eyes, two cutting cleanly through the cornea and entering the pupil, where sudden flashes of white light marked where their tiny lasers cut at the ligaments holding her lenses in place, which were removed by the other pair of small implements and taken somewhere unknown, leaving her vision fuzzy and unable to focus. The last thing she felt before blacking out entirely was something cutting just below her ribs. Mercifully, the pain didn't go any further.

She awoke in what was clearly a hospital suite, though rather than a bed she was suspended in what seemed to be a tube, a pair of resistors above and below her keeping her floating. The only pain she felt was a dull ache in the nape of her neck, which she considered at least a partial victory given the horrible nightmare she had experienced. The more disbelieving part of her thought of it as just that, a nightmare, which she had woken up from before it got too awful, not that it wasn't already the worst thing to happen to her.

A pair of doctors entered, four armed medical Fusiliers following, with High Admiral Sol at the back. The officer stepped forwards, looking closely over the partially trapped Rainbow Dash. The pegasus tried to speak, but her voice refused to make any sound.

"Doctor Tiber," Sol said, "show her the results of the procedure."

Doctor Tiber brought forwards a large, thin screen, displaying a rendering of Rainbow. Her mane was buzzcut, most of her coat was gone, she was covered in scars, her eyes had a shifting red halo within them and her wings had been replaced entirely by a pair of sockets.

Her wings. Rainbow choked when she saw them, not even stubs remained, just a pair of sockets where her wings should have been. Her jaw trembled for a second, before her stomach decided to eject everything in it, which proved to only be some dark blood clots and stomach acid. She looked at the blood and acid on the floor, then to the picture of her wings, then vomited again, now just acid. The one upside was the metallic taste in her mouth from the last time had been washed out and replaced with just burning.

"Your augmentations will take some getting used to," Sol said, "you most likely will get phantom pains in the area of your wings for the first few weeks, as well as auditory and visual hallucinations, you will feel like you are just learning to walk again and your breathing may feel as though you are drowning for the next week or so. You will get frequent nosebleeds for the rest of your life as well as probably an addiction to the drugs contained in your suit, which you will be placed in shortly."

For a list of side effects, it wasn't the worse she had heard. Though, the worst had included death and cancer.

She was released from her little floating pod and kept aloft by a pair of the Fusiliers, who acted as balances whilst her legs slipped out from under her, as though she was just learning to wake. Sure enough, only after about a minute free of the pod, something metallic entered her mouth. She wiped the top of her lips with a hoof and, just as Sol had said, found blood coming from her nose, an alarming amount of blood. Fortunately, it stopped as soon as it started, though the tip of her hoof was stained crimson.

Slowly, she got to grips with her legs, learning to counter their odd spring and wish to move. Her body was constantly shaking, with a major twitch every ten or so seconds. She let the shakes keep her upright, using their momentum to essentially keep herself partially in the air at nearly all times.

"The first test," Sol said, "is to follow me to the armoury."

Rainbow half-walked, half-spasmed along the corridor, which was fortunately free of anyone besides herself, Sol and the Fusiliers just behind her, keeping watch. Aside from a few near falls, she made it to the armoury in one try, Sol opening the door for her.

She was greeted by a large, white room, with a number of technicians surrounding a large upright circular frame. She was handed a black bodysuit, which a pair of Fusiliers helped her fit into. It was snug and moved fluidly but was surprisingly firm when hit and kept her well insulated.

One of the technicians, wearing a lab coat but clearly more an engineer than a medical doctor, led her forwards to the frame, placing her feet into four crimson shapes fitted perfectly around her hooves, which the technician closed a number of small clips over, before gesturing to one of their fellows. The circular frame made a mechanical click, moving forwards slightly so it rested just over Rainbow Dash's neck.

Another technician brought forwards what the upper for what Rainbow realised was hoof armour, which clipped perfectly over her hoof and with the lower part. The circular frame made a buzzing noise, the hoof armour seeming to jolt slightly downwards as it clicked together more firmly. The technicians repeated the process with her other hooves, before another pair joined them and attached her leg armour, the circular frame making a buzz before the armour was properly secured. The process continued all along her body, large and small plates being fitted to absolutely everywhere she didn't need uncovered to move, save everywhere up from her shoulders.

A number of small plates, spaced enough to allow freedom of movement, were attached to the back of her neck. Then two halves of an oval shape were attached at the very bottom of her head, apparently forming the base for her helmet, which arrived in a number of pieces fitted slowly and carefully. The only concern she had was the apparatus for her muzzle, which arrived in about nine pieces and involved two tubes entering and totally blocking her nostrils for a moment, forcing her to use her mouth, which was entirely secured by a seal of rubber, to breathe. The visor was a seemingly opaque silver when it was attached about a half centimetre from her eyes, with the armour further up her brow taking away vision entirely until the process was completed.

Rainbow Dash waited, fully encased in armour she couldn't see and could hardly breathe out of, for five minutes, whilst the technicians did something. What it was, she didn't know, she could neither see nor hear them so interaction was completely out of the question. Eventually, with an electrical whirring, her visor faded from opaque to transparency, greeting her with a faded image of her surroundings and a number of diagnostic texts she couldn't fully understand.

"Activating PHALANX virtual assistant," a robotic voice said, "welcome, initiating final suit diagnostic, please stand by."

She waited another minute or two, paragraphs of runes she couldn't read flashing in front of her, until, eventually, it was done and her vision suddenly shifted. She wasn't confronted by a visor anymore, but by a clear view of the outside, as though she wasn't even in the suit.

"Visual augmentations working nominally," one of the technicians said, "she should be able to hear and see us."

"If you can see and hear us well, say you're here," said another.

"I'm here," Rainbow said, confused for a moment about how processed her voice sounded, "I can hear and see you good."

The technicians nodded, tapping out various things on their little datapads. "Look up for me," said one, "now, down, good, good. Now, left. Now, right. Now, back to the centre."

"All systems nominal." One of the technicians pressed a number of buttons on their datapad, creating a hiss from the frame Rainbow was on and making her slump a little. "Alright, take a step, nice and slow."

Her step was much less shaky than the ones without armour, though much slower and heavier too. The technician beckoned her forwards, nodding at their pad as they did so. She definitely felt less of a spring in her step, though certainly felt more confident in each one she took.

"Good, good," the technician said, before pushing one last button, "movement systems normal, activating auto-drug injection system."

Rainbow felt six needles penetrate along the nape of her neck, though it felt good, almost pleasurable, rather than the immense pain her previous needle experiences had been. She felt a number of things rush into her, calming her down immediately and heightening her awareness, returning the springiness to her step and clearing her mind entirely.

"Walk about," one of the technicians said, "tell us how you go."

"Feels good," Rainbow said, "feels way better than before."

"Good, good. We'll give you back to High Admiral Sol."

Sol got her attention immediately. "We'll head to the trainers," she said, beckoning Rainbow on, "shouldn't take too long."

The trainers were a short walk down another corridor and were simply a number of booths in one large room. The booths were all empty save one, containing First Admiral Horrocks from the meeting, who had already set up a booth for her to use.

"Step inside," she said, "get in a comfortable stance, legs wide and hold still.”

She brought a pair of cables forwards, connecting them to a pair of covered plugs on the side of Rainbow's helmet. With a sudden flash, she felt a number of memories and pieces of information in her head that hadn't been there previously. Another flash yielded the same results. Then a dozen or so more.

Horrocks disconnected the cables again, placing them both onto a rack on the booth's walls. “All done."

Rainbow had the memories and knowledge in her head of solid weeks of training, but had only experienced about a minute worth of it. "Flash training," Sol said, "we use it for PHALANXs and other special forces, typically on top of stuff they already know. It gets the job done well, but personal experience is often the better teacher."

"Finally," Sol said as they walked, "we get you a new pair of wings, courtesy of the development labs who won't tell anyone but have been working on prototypes of these for decades. It's almost a saving grace you came along, finally a reason for R&D to still exist."

The development labs were enormous, though Rainbow was confined to only a small area. A pair of beaming researchers brought forwards an individual, mechanical wing each, with an attachment perfect for the sockets on Rainbow's armoured back, which were similarly plugged into the sockets on Rainbow's real back. Without much fanfare, but a visible great happiness from the researchers, the wings were attached and Rainbow gained real control over them. She flexed them out instinctively, testing their weight and movement, before thinking of ascension. A number of small rings on the upper filament flared to life, lifting her quickly upwards as she beat the mechanical instruments, then keeping her aloft as she stopped flapping.

Rainbow Dash was airborne again.

When Mothia had first arrived on Avor II, she had been filled with excitement, finally, a hive of her own, not only that but a hive on a planet of her own. She had arrived with two hundred Changelings and been greeted by a division of Imperial soldiers, who had already constructed a partially subterranean complex to begin a hive from. She had thanked the Commander, who had told her if she needed anything at all to come to him.

Despite her initial excitement for the hive, she began to spend longer and longer on the orbiting Imperial Overwatch station, hovering in a geosynchronous orbit above the fledgling hive. She had told herself it was to experience the Empire, to see how different Imperial society was to that of the Changelings. Though, quickly she gave up the act and recognised it was just to talk to the Commander, Julius, his name was, who was always more than happy to accept any sort of requests or just simple, but short, conversation.

Over the course of a month, she had learned his full name was Julius Andre Lucian, he was twenty two standard years old and had been born on the planet of Vocharis, in the Olympia system, and had joined the military on his 14th birthday - when his species reached full maturity. Though she hadn't even admitted it to herself at first, she liked the Commander rather a lot, culminating in a request for him to come down with her to her hive, the reason for which she disguised as "enabling ease of communication in case of issues."

Small numbers of Imperial troops would come and go every day, typically bringing equipment and supplies for the Changelings, who were steadily taught by the Imperials how to grow sustainable crops, helpful so that they would no longer have to feed exclusively on love.

"It's a matter of diet changes," one of the instructors, a Fusilier whose authority came both from their knowledge and their friends with guns, had said, "these plants are good for you, they might not taste brilliant, but they're very good for you."

Until the Changelings could get proper farming going, which the instructors estimated would take about two months, supplies of food came in every week, delivered by cargo transport to a landing pad a kilometre or so from the hive, where it would be collected by drones who would deliver it to the hive's storage rooms.

"Next shipment that's coming in is bringing the usual: grains and roots, mostly, a bit of honey to tide you over. But, we've also got another pair of water purifiers coming in. Keep you posted when they arrive, Commander, Overwatch out."

"What're they bringing?" Mothia slunk into the large Queen's chamber, marked predominantly by the large and almost luxurious "bed" made up of a number of sheets, pillows and blankets as to create the effects of a mattress.

"Usual food, some honey and a pair of water purifiers," Julius replied, slipping the IntraSAT pad into the blast-proof pack next to him.

"Ooh." She began to slowly wrap herself in a cocoon of sheets. "I like honey."

"I can tell."

It was one of the only things the still technically Princess ate, having discovered it around when Julius first arrived, the Commander having used it to clean his teeth, to which Mothia thought to copy, beginning her love affair with honey.

"Keeps me clean," she mumbled inside her small tower of sheets, a ritual she performed every night so Julius would push her over and they'd both have a laugh.

Sure enough, he did, causing the wrapped Changeling to roll, bounce off the wall, then collapse in a heap. Both always got a giggle from the absurdity of it, no matter how many times they did it.

The Princess always liked to keep the Commander close, which she, even after making a number of confessions, attested was purely just to maintain body heat. The kissing was for body heat too, something about energy reserves would be an excuse afterwards, that the actually trained Commander knew was totally false.

"Preserves heat," she would whisper, "got to keep energy reserves high."

"Sure, sure," would be the reply, "very low on energy here."

Then it would repeat for about two hours before they both fell asleep. They would awaken exactly two hours after dawn, then properly clothe and wash themselves before beginning work for the day. Work typically consisted of reports for Julius, then some labour either transporting or sorting the supplies or building extensions onto the hive structure; for Mothia, it consisted about the faintest thought of children, then some honey, then to say something encouraging to Julius every once in a while whilst bathing in the sun.

"I'll be off to the pad then," Julius said, ensuring his armour was properly secured, "new shipment will need shifting quickly."

Mothia planted a quick kiss on his forehead, muttered something about body heat then smiled and headed off to give her frazzled tail a brush before the vital, backbreaking labour of sunbathing later on.

She had thought it a little odd the hive was so quiet, but had chalked it down to everyone being at work. Though, when she exited it for the first time that morning, she quickly realised why.

Her Changelings were lined up in four rows of fifty abreast, an armoured Changeling Princess followed by a pair of grey uniformed Imperial officers inspecting them. Julius was speaking with another soldier, a General by their plain purple shoulder cape. Above, surrounding the Overwatch station, were a dozen cruisers, with a carrier leading them.

"Ah," the General said, looking to Mothia, "here she comes now. Colonel Exa, your last one has arrived."

The armoured Changeling cantered up to her smiling, pulling her into a quick embrace. "Mothia! Oh, it's been a while. Heard you got with a Commander, lucky you." Exa then chuckled, shook her head and put on a more serious tone. "Mother has requested every Changeling that can fight to go to Cradle immediately, I can't tell you why, I'm afraid."

She overheard the conversation Julius and the General were having, by virtue of her excellent hearing. "Your division will be stationed aboard the Glorious Storm and will deploy to assist the initial invasion forces."

"What are the chances of casualties?"

"High, I won't lie to you." The General placed an armoured hand on Julius' shoulder. "But this mission is far more important than any of us. If you want to back out, say so now, but the Emperor has called on everyone, says we'll need just about everyone too."

Julius nodded. "I'll do it, let me get my gear sorted and I'll come join you."

He passed Mothia, detouring slightly to embrace the Changeling and plant a kiss on her forehead. "Whatever happens, we'll meet again."

He entered the hive, emerging a minute later wearing his full armour, rifle in hand, looking fully combat ready. He gave Mothia one last embrace before he boarded the dropship, the Changelings travelling to Cradle by Queen Chrysalis' magic. She waved him off, as he did her, confident she would see him again.

See him again she did, if partially unknowingly, only instinct telling her one of the bodies was his.

The Roll of Honour

For those who gave their lives in service of freedom. Let us remember those who fought and died in service of a higher purpose, and those who shall live on, forevermore.

Emperor Nicholas the Everlasting

Princess Celestia

Princess Luna

Kyhron, Prince of Darkness

Vice-Commodore Rarity

Second Leftenant Rainbow Dash

Ensign Fluttershy

Captain George Staker

Executioner Ar'Aknos

Sentinel-General of the Black Guard Cecilia

Belial

Leftenant Samuel-B099

Leftenant Hayden-B339

Sergeant-Major Ellie-B226

Master Leftenant Aimee-B114

Command Captain Douglas-B772

Sergeant-Major Em-B777

Epilogue

It is my belief that the Oracle artefact recovered contains a recount of prior history, not the fantasy stories our earliest scholars and theologians believed. The religion that venerates these Precursors is perhaps, thus, correct in their interpretation of history.

I know not how the rest of their cosmology fits in. What I used to create this account comes from the various stories and accounts told in the Oracle, combined with what my own knowledge and interpretation could bring up.

I encourage all others, those who are of inquisitive minds, to seek the full truth of this matter. Other scholarly interpretations are no more incorrect than mine is correct, given the subject matter, it is wise to assume everything other than your own interpretation is wrong.

It is my hope that future generations will look back on this text, and others like it, and be able to criticise it based on newer, more complete knowledge.

- Sanguine-Heart-of-Blazing-Light

The War in Heaven
by Sanguine-Heart-of-Blazing-Light