Harmony observed the events transpiring with a cautious optimism. There were definitely concerns that she was keeping an eye on, pooling what influence she might have so she could reach out and help if absolutely necessary. The trick was knowing exactly when that was supposed to be. With so many to keep track of far away from any regional height of influence she might have, it was difficult. A vast majority of the time, she could only watch.
Sometimes being limited to observing most of the events from a distance just about killed her, especially in this world. This was where she saw her first mortal friend, someone with a happy marriage and young children and who deserved a long life, perish.
Wysteria… the name was still an aching scar years later. Harmony could have worried herself into depression and agony mulling over fate of the guardian retainer, the greatest of the Gaea Everfree and first bearer of the Element of Empathy. She could tell herself she sent Wysteria to her fate by not having discouraged her from taking up the mantle when she was deemed worthy, by maybe not being quick enough to rip part of her own essence free of herself to forge the 7th element of that world, by not trying harder to talk her best friend out of confronting three demons.
But she could spend 20 years faulting herself for Wysteria's choices, or she could try and live up to that heroic legacy. And the Nexus of Light magic would not wallow when there was good to be done.
Mortals, they were such amazing life forms that she admired so much. They truly could be great if they wished it upon themselves. If anything, the amazing ability in mortals to accomplish feats of bravery and heroism despite their comparatively minuscule power only invigorated her more in the past thousand years than she had been previously for billions. Wysteria, the Bearers, the Pillars, and more passersby in the sea of time than any could hope to count. There was good reason she left her fragments, especially two extremely precious to her, in the hands of mortals. They may have been but mayflies to her weathered, thousand-year tree, but that didn’t make them expendable or anything less than precious. Facing down three windigos, a storm, a dark magic enchantment, a quartet of vicious dragons, and more recently a kaiju would be pest-control for her. Barely worth a footnote. But to them, to the mortals, it would be a titanic struggle.
And if they had the will to fight back, if they held fast to their bonds between each other; they more than deserved her power. Impossibility was not something deserving of them, so she gave them the tools to make it possible as much as it pained her to do so or to not intervene. If she intervened every single time, they would never know what they were capable of. They would never truly know the temptation to go away from the light and realize that folly. It would be peaceful, but it would be ignorant and potentially dangerous.
A nexus of magic went rogue once. Once…
Harmony closed her eyes and slowly shook her head to hold back the agony she had observed over the millennia to push it away. It eased the pain.
If she intervened directly, Wysteria, Timbucktu, Trot, and more might still be alive. Knowing that brought pain and bitterness all directed at herself. But there were so many more still alive because mere mortals did the right thing and inspired others to do so as well. That is why it was so fortunate that the alicorns, despite echoing power with some more than others, were either mortals themselves or raised amongst them to share in their values and struggle. Because the greatest motivator to create a hero in the mind of a goddess was not to see yourself above the common mortal, but to see yourself amongst them.
Grogar put himself above them, crossed an event horizon. And it was by mortal hooves tipping the scales, not the power of a goddess peer holding him in a deadlock, that the battle was ultimately won.
Bagan, she sensed, was the same story but in a different context. Someone who saw themselves without either peers or true bonds to those beneath them in power. Unaccountable, as she feared she could be had she not made the decisions she did…
Harmony paused and contemplated…
Her fragments of power were still her own. She could take them back. Set right all of these matters and force anyone, misguided mortal, kaiju, even Bagan, to see the light. To see her. None could oppose such justice. It would be the most efficient means of using her power. After all, most mortals could only know her strength for a few decades at most; she had thousands of thousands of thousands of years to know herself. She was a goddess of creation and could create true harmony of her namesake. It could be done. It could last thousands upon thousands upon thousands of years!....
Harmony recoiled upon the glassy walkway within her void, feeling frozen right down to her core. A goddess quivered, horrified at the treachery within her mindscape.
Thousands of years of peace…. But then what?
Growth entailed continuing beyond creation, beyond a starting point. And if creation was all, how could there be any growth? How could there be change? How could there be heroes making the right choice if she made all the choices for them? How could there ever be a right choice if choice itself was destroyed by creation?
And what if she, in all her wisdom and all her power, saw herself in a situation without peer and without accountability. With no one able to draw upon their own power, who could ever tell her that she was wrong when she needed to know? How could they ever stop her if she needed to be stopped and no one could?
What would happen if she became the next Bagan, the next Grogar?
A worse fate than that which fell upon Terra 70,000 years ago. Something she would never let come to pass.
The goddess steeled herself, letting a calm suffuse her form while embracing the past for counsel to the future. The fact she knew it would be wrong, that choice. That was precious and for the ten thousandth, ten thousandth time she had felt the temptation, Harmony stowed it away as a reminder.
She quickly shut herself off from thinking about that possibility before the tremors grew too great, gasping a bit in breath. It took an hour to collect herself.
The course would be stayed. She would help the mortals as she could, fostering and guiding with counsel and tool. Losses would happen, failures could happen, but she would have to trust that mortals would be able to make the right decisions in the end regardless of their past and action. Perhaps a few times would arise she could bestow a blessing or enact the creation of the gift to them, right down to whittling further and further at her power to leave it in the most capable hooves. One day, she might not have much power at all. And she would cheer in elation.
And, in the quieter moments she could take solace in the knowledge she had done some good and helped others onto a righteous path despite their pasts. Monster X had slain thousands in war as a weapon of mass destruction, unleashed upon those that would fight back. Had his path gone unaltered his wrathful side would have won out, becoming the heir to the King of Terror. Aria Blaze was a sea witch spawned from the seed of Grogar’s own creation with the specific intent of spreading misery and strife. Had she more time to grow unopposed she would have burned the bridges with her family, lashing out at everyone around her with war, violence, and suffering that could have potentially made her sire seem feeble.
Conflict was all the two initially knew from one another. But when a dire threat came upon the world with no Bearer or Retainer to oppose it, she set a course for a monstrous weapon and a sorceress of strife to prove themselves better than the origin of their blood. It was a long shot, but it worked out more spectacularly than she could have hoped.
In the dark of a small cabin within the campgrounds, two figures sat together in bed with one reaching over to turn off the lamp. Illuminated only by the subtle glow coming from Aria’s necklace, two pairs of hands slowly raised to one another’s cheek. Aria removed a mask and jacket, leaning in to nuzzle and kiss an old scar crossing a cheek. X removed a set of hair bands and sweater, running his fingers along the back and pressing his forehead to her’s.
Harmony shifted the viewpoint to allow them some privacy, but couldn’t resist letting out a small snicker when she saw Adagio pace by the cabin. The eldest siren took one look at the massive amount of love magic, visible to her as red smoke, billowing out from under the door and clouding the windows; before promptly turning on her heel and pacing away, red embarrassment staining her face.
Okay, maybe it was fine that Aria didn’t share everything with her cousins, and X likewise might not be entirely inclusive of his team in all activities; but this was definitely an improvement from before.
Harmony instead refocused her efforts to monitor elsewhere. For the time being, this was the most she could do: Monitor and hope. Especially for this realm, where her reach was already limited and only became more so when a battle between gods temporarily wounded her connection to the realms even more. It would take time for a stronger bond to be reestablished, for the bridges to heal. Only one realm remained easily connected to her own starry void of magic. And it wasn’t any she was involved in.
In fact, until its latest master slaughtered all of the demons, some might have called it an echo of hell.
And said master walked back in through that door.
Harmony, a near blinding mass of light in the shape of a horned equine, turned and looked across a near infinite space at a mass a near infinite distance away. One could not easily tell how long it took for said distance to close over the thousands upon thousands upon thousands of kilometers. A dozen minutes, a couple hours, a few days. But it closed nonetheless.
Bagan had once again come to the Harmonium.
The obscurities about the God of Extinction were less so than last time. Muscle and plating bulged across a towering skeleton. The gleam of talons belied the shape of swords, three great horns arranged as a crown of spears, with footfalls that boomed with the crash of thunder and bellow of an earthquake. A powerful build with sword-like talons and broad spines for shoulder pauldrons visible, a glow from multiple eyes illuminating past the distortion. All of which were transfixed upon Harmony with an indescribable and indiscernible gaze, unknown in the recesses of intent between a studious stare and a malign glare.
The living star of a goddess stood before a dark void of a god, a walking mountain crowned in three horns standing before a sapient tree with a branched horn. Eyes glimmered and messages were conveyed despite them being miles apart on their collision course. The flowing sheets of moving magic swept across the dimension like a surging river cast to the shape of wind, giving image to the thought and meaning to the voiceless.
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The city was a beautiful tapestry cast in stone, sitting resolute within the expanse of the ocean. Hundreds of thousands of its citizenry, clad in simple attires of shawls, tunics, and robes with finery derived from the crystals and shells the sea offered them all bowed down when a shadow of three horns was cast across their world. The Mu as they were called rejoiced at the living monolith’s arrival, a small parade bringing forth a massive hunk of quartz. With gentleness in opposition to its magnitude of scale, an enormous talon was brought forth and touched the crystal. A second sun appeared to be created within it, iridescent blues and pure white light dazzling the surface. Waves of energy coursed out of it and inundated the Mu. The entirety of the city cheered, the smaller crystals upon their necks all lighting up along with glowing blue lines criss-crossing their dark skin in intricate patterns.
The entire city seemed to become alive with the gift and of a god’s mana, jumpstarting so much of their magic and technology. The airspace came alive with a parade of shapes and craft, many in the image of sea creatures such as sharks, fish, and lobster. Men and women quickly went about creating wondrous arts in shows of power and celebration. Little miracles began to crisscross the entire island. The sick were made well again, homes damaged from a storm were restored, and food was multiplied one thousand fold, a basket of fish becoming barrels full after transmuting elements within the air and earth, with feasts also being engendered one hundred fold. The old queen sat up from her throne and raised her hand in salute and toast to their patron deity, their Reijuu.
Creation smiled warmly, so amazed and so joyous at all the good and wondrous efforts done with such a gift of magic. An ill baby, previously not long for the world, was tended to by a small team of magicians and alchemists; and their efforts bore fruit. A child previously on death’s door, never before destined to experience the world and grow old, was now in full remission with her sores and blisters vanishing by the moment. A jubilant father, previously worrying his daughter would be buried by him instead of he being buried by her, held her close and waggled her arm gently to act as if she was waving to the titan outside the city that still stood amidst the sea. The first action so many had taken the moment they had the ability for such power was taken with the goal of betterment to others. Mortals could be so amazing when given such gifts.
Extinction was stoic. Amidst all the cheering crowds and wondrous works, someone was dying. Many were dying. Several other healers were rushing to a household where an aged, ancient woman lay in her bed. She had seen a hundred dozen winters and summers, outliving her husband by several decades. Her body had worn down so much despite her mana and magic she was barely responsive. She was content though, having lived a full life and desiring to see what might come next. Her family however could not hear her. And they refused to let her go. When her heart stopped several magicians went about restarting it. Every time she was willing to let go of her mind and body, they painfully wrenched her back. It would take hours for them to finally stop, if only because her will to finally pass was stronger then their will to torture her.
"Torture?”
“Yes.” Extinction astutely noted its judgement,
"No. They did not know what they did, and if they knew she wished to go they would have let her.”
Extinction begged to differ.
"The greater the power of mortals, the greater the capacity for abuse.”
"Prove it.”
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The vision shifted three decades later. Another visit, another celebration. But now the attention was not upon the parades and adoration, but instead studious eyes looked through the tapestry a mile away to what happened behind a closed door. For amongst the cheering crowds and joyous occasions, someone was killing someone. A stone blade cloaked in fire was shoved into skin and twisted. They could hear the screaming of the victim over the cheers but none of the mortals could. The infant from earlier, now a grown woman and practiced magician, was a serial killer. Terra’s deity was stoic, focused on the victim instead of the killer. They did not die painlessly.
"Stop them!” Creation pleaded.
“No.”
“Why?”
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Another vision. Vengeful magicians turned warlocks summoning demons and destructive spells that brought more agony and suffering than any sharpened stick or hunting spear could ever manage. Pain intensified across the world and it did not die with the end of magic. A crack of gunpowder preceding a flying projectile of stone and later metal agonizingly ripping its way through another human’s body. A poisoned, diseased body catapulted over a besieged city’s walls, the black plague sores covering their body soon to spread over the whole of Europe and Africa to kill millions. An entire city lit up in smoke and fire with screaming civilians being forced into their own hell, the invading army was having a competition on who could decapitate the most. And then… the citizens of ironically that own army looked up at the sky one day to see a large plane dropping an object.
Hiroshima was burned by the splitting of the atom. A cascading effect that would also result in Tokyo burning less than a decade later from a nuclear leviathan enacting its vengeance. The first Godzilla, an incarnation of humanity's folly, would leave a holocaust of flames and thousands more dead and dying.
"Would this not be the same retribution asked for in the slaying of the Mu Murderer? If this was horrible to inflict such death on these people regardless of what this nation called Japan had done to others, how was that different than asking it to kill the serial killer? If allowing free roam of mortals inevitably created suffering, especially when their capability rose, why should the capacity for suffering even be allowed to exist?”
Creation was silent.
Then an answer in vision.
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70,000 years ago. The city of Mu, up in flames. Practically vaporized in a single blast as a massive form flew over it at high speed with glowing wings of energy. The shape rapidly crisscrossed the Pacific, Asia, and parts of Africa leaving bubbles of exploding energy kilometers tall that made the atomic bomb mushroom clouds look like firecrackers.
It wasn’t the work of a serial killer offing a victim, nor the effects of war killing thousands. Millions were going up in smoke. Ascending into the stratosphere, the three-horned titan extended luminous wings that recalled the appearance of blazing solar flares. Brilliant diamond shapes grew across their span before being ejected off. Dozens upon dozens of them carpet bombing the world below, glassing whole swaths of the continents and evaporating so much ocean water the entire sky was choked by dark clouds.
Their protector and patron deity had become a God of Extinction. It was horrible, it was a catastrophe that the fossil record would call the Toba Calamity because of one of the greatest super volcanoes of its time going off in tandem with the calamity due to all the impacts upon tectonic plates.
But through the mayhem, through the death, Creation’s attention was piqued by one minor detail. The memory, the vision, seemed to be playing faster than it should have. Like it was happening faster than it should have. Creation stowed that note away and cast her observation.
"If the mortals’ use of power to cause suffering was evil, what made the two of them any different from mortals?” Creation questions in passing.
Extinction shrugged, "We are gods, and mortals were mortals. Only difference needed.”
“And what is the difference between the two? What makes a god a god and a mortal a mortal? Was it merely a case of might makes right?”
Silence from Extinction.
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The visions changed from Terra to Equestria, to a time immemorial. There were two deities. Two Nexuses of Magic. One of light, one of dark. The one of light brought forth creation to counteract entropy, her branched horn and flowing mane dancing to the air across a barren planet to bring out the necessary elements, material of the earth and immaterial from beyond, to engender that precious uniqueness called life. Her partner of darkness, would cast his wise eyes and recurved caprine horns to the old. Destruction carefully managed to allow space for growth of the new upon the ashes of the old. A billion years with cells, tens of millions of years with primitive life, and then thousands of years to culture that miraculous moment that a life form could finally conjure the statement of, “I think, therefore I am.”
The two watched it together as proud parents, creation and destruction were so pleased.
Until one of their children snuffed out the last of another species. A needless slaughter in the valley of rainbows just to make a beautiful pelt out of another sapient species. Hate propagated hate. Those attacked struck back. They would fight and fight until so much time had passed they would forget why they even fought. Creation came upon them, beckoning them to cease.
Destruction was wrought. The archon of dark magic rampaged across the land. His cloven hooves crushed the ground and his bell rang with such force it shattered mountains. The first generation was rendered extinct with Creation weeping over their ashes. Interference had caused the situation. Mortals were given a gift and had caused agony with it.
Creation begged to differ and for a time, Destruction relented. They tried again.
"By reforging a world.” Extinction noted.
Creation thought only briefly, "Yes.”
“And yet I am in the wrong when I do such?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because we made a mistake.”
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The second generation, created from the remnants of the first and the restored world once again prospered. For thousands upon thousands upon thousands of years, all was peaceful and well. So many tales born of righteousness and serenity. Creation was so jubilant she permitted herself with the joy of moving amongst them. Her reveal caused a shock and her teachings engendered ripples that would become tsunamis in the millennium to follow, especially when Destruction followed her example.
But all good things can be abused. When not tempered correctly love could become lust, righteous indignation could become wrath, want could become greed, indulgence could become gluttony, and even happiness could become pride of the worst sort.
The same follies that all but destroyed the first generation began to fester in the second like a cancer. Many opposed it, many stood tall under their gods’ example against such evil. They assured the gods that they can handle their own problems, and that they would prove themselves good by conquest of their own evil. The Town of Tales, a humble settlement built upon the then ancient ruins of what had been the Rainbow Valley, was at the forefront of this.
The two gods left the mortals to their means for several centuries, but curiosity did bring them back.
It was then Destruction became aware of his partner's sobbing. When the god came to the goddess to ask what was wrong, she needed only motion to one of the mortal cities to show why. One hundred years ago, but a blink of the eye to a deity, this city had been a shining example against the festering evil. It was now a wretched hive, a dark realm of magical abuse and debauchery. Its leadership corrupt, it was all too quick to wish ill and conquest upon the friendly townships and smaller city states not far away. With its sheer power, none could ever oppose it.
And in their pride, they sought and attempted to capture, subjugate their own goddess with ethereal chains, dark hexes, and even darker intent. It hadn’t worked, though perhaps this would change as their power grew. But it was not the actual assault upon her that gave Creation such grief. It was the fact they attempted such evil at all.
"This is vindication," Extinction poised, “For all the stability and good that once existed in this world, mortal hands cursed with sapience engendered corruption. Even if only by a few, it would spread and consume the whole.”
Creation disagreed, "No. Keep watching.”
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Destruction was unleashed upon that domain called Tambelon. Not one soul survived after the entirety of the city was wrenched free of the dimension no differently than how one would tear away a bee stinger. It left a wound in the blighted north, sealed over in crystal as a final testament to how this would never be tolerated. But Destruction was not done. The mortals had proven themselves so easily corruptible by power. And so they would not be permitted such power.
Armories were razed, magicians wiped away, magical artifacts were drained or sealed within vaults. The second generation was only salvaged by the plea of Creation to stop. And Destruction listened to her. But when asked why he went so far, his response was as matter of fact as it was true.
This could never be a mistake, because he was a deity and deities do not make mistakes. He was only doing what was asked of him eons ago. Destroy the old, kill virtually all of it if he had to, to make way for the new.
Creation was silent for thousands of years but relented. The remnants of the second-generation, many driven from their homelands, were slowly fostered in secret to become the third.
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The third generation was heavily her effort. Creation wished never again to see the utter devastation her counterpart inflicted on the first and second. The survivors of the second generation were cared for, however indirectly. Every want or need was satisfied and they were free to pursue any craft or wish they had. She never revealed herself, not wishing to make the same mistake twice, but she even went as far as to never offer this generation her blessings and teachings. Aside from what was inherent, such as a dragon breathing fire without burning themselves or a pegasus getting herself off the ground with such small wings, there would never be any magic.
No magic, no power, no temptation, no corruption. That was their idea. Destruction, perhaps wanting to ensure he wiped away all of the old or perhaps wanting to give leeway to his grieving partner, left Creation to do her work while studying what went wrong before in Tambelon.
But her remnants and traces could not be kept out of creation forever. With Destruction at rest, Creation did not notice her actions until it was too late. She had crafted a paradise. From a butterfly island to a crystal castle of rainbows and a village of ponies, there was scarcely a trace of anger, fear, want, or need. No corner for dark magic or those emotions. The inhabitants lived blissfully but incomplete. One side effect of Creation alone being their sole patron was that the third generation was almost exclusively female, aside from descendants of the second. Knowing this to be folly, Creation sought to rectify this and invoked some of the echoes of her partner’s masculinity and balance the system. But this invocation got Destruction’s attention, for while any female could enact the essence of destruction and any male could enact the essence of creation, directly trying to create more of one would draw the attention of the respective deity.
Destruction bore witness to this new world..... and he was disgusted.
He had expected only a small token solo venture by his partner, he had expected her to maintain balance. The same balance between light and dark she preached to him could be obtained by mortals, and could prove they were worthy of not being cleansed like the previous two generations had. But Destruction, that shadowy lord, saw the imbalance and was enraged. First Creation beseeches and halts him when abuse of darkness imbalanced the previous generations, now she goes off and creates a third-generation with an imbalance towards the light? This was not life as he saw it, this was not what they as gods were supposed to do. This would need fixing.
Destruction went about his methods, twisting and corrupting pieces of this third-generation in a bid to balance it. Harmless animals became vicious monsters, minor grievances became discontent; with sadness and grief intermixing upon those who had virtually never experienced it. But in his bid to do what he thought was right, the Shadow King as the ponies soon called him as his monsters laid waste to their towns, had made an error. He had changed too much too fast because he had long since lost his patience for mortals. He did not notice nor care that the anger he had stoked had turned to wrath, the want he had created had turned to greed, the corruption of experience re-forged it into gluttony, desire for another twisted to lust; for he was far too prideful to take heed that he had created the very thing he once destroyed. If anything, destruction perpetuated it as city and town after city and town was torn asunder by his own hoof or by strife between the residents.
Races, no longer ignorant to such a degree of their differences, could no longer maintain a unity. Pegasi, unicorn, and earthen separated into different bands that would only accept their own kind. In a world now riddled with monsters, they could only see comfort in what was almost exactly like themselves. And even amongst their internal strife, all were hunted down with a vengeance by the hordes of horrors and terrors coming from Tambelon.
A blinding light forced back the ravenous horde when the Shadow King lead them towards that righteous settlement built upon the near fossilized ashes of the Town of Tales, the first Ponyville. The monsters reared back from the flare of luminescence and Destruction paused.
Creation, who had for so long been aghast at what to do, stood up with the town behind her and whispered with a tear rolling down her face.
“No more.”
Destruction met her, stepping out from his horde to calmly demand she step aside. Creation did not budge, she could only motion to the catastrophe he had wrought with agony in her voice. How could he do this? How could he be so cruel? He was a god, they were supposed to be better than this. He had the power to flatten mountains with a footstep and rend the sky asunder, why did he need an army of nightmarish creatures at his beck and call to enact his will?
The Shadow King sneered, “Do you think I am making a mistake? Do you think I am like them?-”
Creation knew who he was talking about, the mortals cowering behind her.
“Do you think I am like you?”
He finished and she froze. It was then Creation, standing in front of mortal oblivion, made a realization. She was a goddess, and she had made a mistake. He was a god, and he had also made a mistake. But only one of them had realized that and was trying to fix it. Only one of them had finally realized the gods were fallible just like the mortals. The shining brilliance made her plea, made her call for a cease-fire. It fell upon deaf ears.
Destruction, the Shadow King, had seen multiple worlds before crumble because of the errors and mistakes of mortals. Now he saw such error in his former partner. If their goal was to see life improve and life inevitably would gravitate towards evil as it had in prior generations, that only proved the worst aspects of the dark were truly natural. Happiness, joy, benevolence, that was stagnation. The opposite was propagation. It only made sense that if he was a deity above all others, he should embody the greatest of those traits. This world he saw as flawed was made entirely by her flawed methods.
Now it was time to destroy the old and make way for the new, this time entirely in his image.
He was no longer a God of Destruction, but of something much worse. Something truly evil. The ultimate imbalance to the same balance he once dwelt in.
Grogar let out a heavens-rending roar with the crash of his bell, and the first blow was struck when a crying Harmony blasted him through a mountain range and tried to protect the mortals, the ponies, from the ungodly horde that threatened to devour them. Ponyville went up in flames as buildings were torn asunder, fire rained from the sky, and shadows crept in from every angle. Harmony rapidly teleported amidst the terrain, practically everywhere at once and she set about erecting shields and, against her nature, turning her magic against an approaching monster that loomed over a crying filly by blasting the golem apart.
She looked up warily, eyes so dark with terror that it was visible even amongst her starlight glow. All around her was pure pandemonium.
A young dragon named Kenbroath in formal, “Spike” to his friends, grabbed a crying newborn that he passed to a swooping form, the white pegasus named Star Catcher holding the small form close to her as she flew to safety; even if there rarely was any. A lunging chimera moved to intercept her despite an attempt to shoot it down. The young unicorn princess Rarity was half-covered in ash and grime, staining her pink fur and gold mane to darkened hues, as she swung her star-tipped wand about. The magical artifact, meant to dazzle and bring about celebration, had been cracked from overuse in a desperate bid to save lives. With her horn glowing and the wand poised despite a large amount of magic crackling amongst its surface in a dangerous manner, the princess took aim in spite of a screaming Spike.
“Princess! Don’t! The wand is already damaged and it’s not meant to harm!”
Rarity only smiled and nodded before a massive burst of energy engulfed the end of the wand. Like a massive Roman candle firework, a projectile came rocketing out but only at the cost of an enormous blowback swallowing up the princess. Her last gambit did however pay off, for now, Star Catcher beating her white wings to make for the hills with the child in her grasp as the now blazing chimera crashed into Minty’s house.
A purple earthen with a dark colored mane that might one day be compared to the appearance of Twilight Sparkle sans a horn and wings, called out to Spike after kicking open a door to a clothes shop.
“Kenbroath, I can’t find Cheerilee! Where’s Rarity?!” Kimono yelped while sprinting over.
Kenbroath Kilspotten Heathspike was 1000 years old despite his small size, but his short stature combined with the large amount of tears streaming down his dirtied face as he turned around made him look like a child. Clutched in his arms was a shattered remnant of a wand, a smoking crater still visible behind him. A wisp of charged, golden hair slithered through the air and hung itself on his nose.
Kimono’s jaw dropped, only able to focus on her friend as their world seemed to be tearing itself apart. A demonic, nightmarish parody of a dragon from the first generation re-created in dark magics, a stratodon, tore its way through the town center in a shower of debris and smoke. Ponyville was dead and it intended to chase down every last inhabited sprinting about, hiding, or attempting to save their friends. Its cruel eyes locked upon the two and it advanced with booming footfalls. Kimono felt exhausted, but compelled. She lurched forward and hugged her friend, shivering and trembling while seeking the last bit of happiness or comfort they could get before the end. Spike, not daring to drop Princess Rarity’s wand, clung to her and blotted out the shaking earth of the predators stalking forward.
But through their eyelids they could still behold a blinding emission. There was a brief shriek from the stratodon but it could not cry out in full considering how quickly it was vaporized. A low hum filled the air for several seconds before the two dared to open their eyes. Mouths agape, they were quick to behold a dome of energy encircling them like a bubble and outside of the dome was someone virtually indescribable. They had never met her, and yet somehow, they knew they were safe.
Harmony huffed from her efforts, lifting the shield of magic up with telekinesis and teleporting the pair away from the catastrophe that had befallen their town. Outside of the town limits, away in the breezie forests, where they might be safe. Or at least safer. A cackling shriek betrayed the presence of more monsters invading the town and she was quick to act. A second later a torrent of magic cut through their numbers and blasted into the sky. It was hardly her first act, the goddess rapidly teleporting around the town and trying to save as many as she could. But in her panicked mind, through both the smoke and haze, her fright for the mortals’ plight, and the heartbreak of battling her partner; it was far more difficult than it otherwise would be; taking every bit of her concentration and focus to go against her nature and destroy the invaders while also enacting her nature to save the inhabitants.
Then there was an earthquake.
The mountains she had previously thrust her former partner into exploded with a dark mass so black it looked like a void. That was her only warning before a meteor of blue fire and crackling magic slammed into her. The battle of gods started, but all Harmony could remember was the last cries of that little filly caught in the crossfire with the smoke rising to the sky.
Silence.
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Harmony observed the memory, seeing a smoldering ruin of a continent. It would take thousands of years for the survivors to eventually, in different waves, return to the homeland of the third generation. She could however tell that all of her company’s mental attention was upon the dark, fallen deity.
“Grogar never would stop, no matter how many times I tried to make him cease,” Harmony muttered to the titan standing only a few meters ahead of her.
There had been a clash of deities, Creation against Destruction, one beyond most comprehension. In a landscape abandoned from the catastrophes, twin stars of the brightest white and darkest voids collided and held fast to one another in a deadlock. The land was saturated with radiating magic, even as the shockwaves diminished in the titanic struggle became more localized and condensed. It would be thousands of years later and they still had not moved a single inch. It would be thousands more years when six heroes would find themselves witness to the struggle in the place that would one day be called the Everfree Forest.
“Eventually we were caught in a deadlock, so neither of us were able to influence anything for centuries. The world slowly healed on its own with new mortals. The fourth generation was born from the third as the third was from the second and so on. Without either of us directly guiding them, they were free to make and utilize gifts and magic how they please, light and dark. I sensed the good within six, and called out to them.”
“You took a matter between deities and involved mortals,” Bagan poised.
Harmony calmly nodded. She looked over at the memories, one eventually showing the six heroes, a half-dozen pillars of virtues, coming upon the deadlock. What could’ve ended in catastrophe instead yielded the best possible result.
“But the mortal races still chose good for the most part. It’s a story for another time but in the end, those broke the tie. Grogar was sealed inside Tambelon, and I chose to seal myself in here,” Harmony said with almost a sense of nostalgia as she regarded a prison of her own making.
Multiple eyes lit up in dim sequence at the low voice of the God of Extinction, “And yet you still interfere.”
Harmony shook her head, “Only when absolutely necessary. Grogar left his remnants on this world, and they can do great evil. Balance on my part is leaving remnants of my own to help. The difference is I still leave it up to mortals to choose how to use them.”
“You trust them too much.”
The Goddess of Creation was unfazed, only smiling slightly, “I trusted them with a few very special remnants in particular. I’m sure you know of them already.”
Bagan was silent, but did not move to attack.
“Your articles are not alone, the mortals of your realms overwhelmingly favor the echo of your power over that of Grogar. Dark magic is rare,” the God of Extinction posited, “Does that not mean you have also established a dominion over this world and others. What makes your actions different than Grogar’s to warrant his imprisonment and your freedom.”
Harmony merely motioned to the world around her, to the starry void empty of all other inhabitants except the two present, a population of what she composed a half, “Do you see a dominion? Do you not see an imprisonment? Just like Grogar and yourself, I too am imprisoned. I just did it willingly.”
“After creating legions of worshipers in the mortal worlds.”
“The mortals chose their own actions, for good or for ill. I merely left them the keys of which to decide their own destiny….” She slowly turned and faced her company once again, “You have questions, so do I. Who shall start?”
“You know that eventually the mortals will abuse their power, cause mass devastation,” Bagan’s multiple sets of eyes pierced into Harmony’s brilliance without blinking, something that hadn’t happened to her in over 1000 years, “And you worry they will be negligent and fail themselves. You are just wondering when that will happen.”
Harmony took a pause for contemplation, wilting. The question was less such and more of a statement, but an inquiry all the same. Not especially just from Bagan, but herself. She had seen so many failures in the past, so much pain into so much hardship. But… as much as it hurt her to remember, she could recall all the times Grogar acted on volition and cleansed, destroyed, a whole generation with the same lack of mind he would give to destroying a foundation of stone to break a mountain range.
“Perhaps they never failed,” she started in a whisper but slowly rose back up, “But I did. I and Grogar. The first three generations may have never truly failed, we failed to let them grow without interference and held them to a standard they never should have been put to. If others beyond the rainbow valley of the first, the town of tales in the second, and the village of love in the third were allowed to survive; things might have improved.”
“No. Like all the times before, they would inevitably destroy one another and what lays around them,” Bagan shook its head slowly and yet never moved its eyes, “They along with all of the innocent and ignorant not cursed with sapience. You’ve seen it before, you know it is inevitable. And now without Grogar, it would fall to you to fix it.”
“Fix it?” Harmony raised an eyebrow and cracked a small, humored smile, "I don’t think it’s possible, at least not in the way you want. Whether they can save themselves or not, I don't know. But I have to let them try. But if you imply I must fix something, wouldn’t that mean I am making a mistake right now? I thought deities could not make mistakes.”
Bagan was unfazed, “Your present is of no concern. Attention to time is the folly of those subject to it, we are not. You and I have seen billions of the timeframe most would be blessed to see just one hundred of. Mistakes are not made until they are final.”
Harmony tilted her head, “And what do you think will be such a finality for me?”
“You will make the same decision I did,” Bagan spoke amongst the echoes and flashes of plasma blasts descending upon cities, engulfing them in a Holocaust of light that glassed the ground for miles, “A course correction. You and I both know this would happen.”
==========================================
It approached and, with flashes of vision within an end brought about by a vengeful goddess with a branched horn, Harmony actually took a step back. Part of her would want to excuse this as some sort of spell her rival was weaving, forcing the worst thing she could see into her mind. But that was an excuse. Bagan might have been offering up the possibilities to her mind, but it was not in control. It was merely bringing up she was already thinking but had not been acting on. The reality was, she knew more than anyone what she was capable of and what she could do if pressed too far.
A sight of mountains crumbling, heaven and earth quaking. The blessed with wings and horns, especially the one of white and one of blue, subjugated and enslaved. Functioning as but weapons at best, or displays of broken horns and dismembered wings at worst to proclaim the superiority of their defeaters.The Silver Crystal shattered or dragged about as a weapon of crusade, turned against its sibling until both it and the Crystal Heart were corrupted by bastardizations of the same light magic they once emanated. Hope and love to misery and lust.
And sins born of both the light and dark, cruelty abounding from all sides, overrunning the world so much the world drowned in its own blood. Civilizations, ecosystems, entire species tearing each other apart.And then, magical barriers erected by overconfident magicians torn asunder by plummeting blasts that rained down like a hail of falling stars. A vengeful goddess set about a rampage out of wrath for her disappointment at the mortal’s folly and their cruel machinations. She could stride through the strongest shields as if they were but mist, shattering fortification and castle alike with a mere stomp of her hoof, and unleash all manner of monstrosities or titans from the primordial past upon the world if she wished to teach them a real lesson through terror. Their corruption would spread no further. They would have wasted their gifts, treated her blessed like trophies, and squandered both their potential and their last chance.
Harmony beheld the light archon of devastation with horror.
"St-Sto-..."
It, the most terrifying thing she could ever imagine, smiled at its actions. At her own actions. Having reabsorbed her gifts and returned to her full power and not holding anything back, the true Goddess of Creation blinded anyone who looked at her.
Only Harmony could see herself, the engine of unmaking with a fuller mane, greater stature, and immense wings of pure light that seemed to take up the whole sky.
The angry goddess surged forward and mortals despaired.
Harmony, a pathetic shadow of her former self, a self that could once again be, screamed. in a futile effort she lashed out against her worst nightmare with everything she had, "STOP!"
Now even the continents would shatter and-
==========================================
Harmony snapped back to awareness and trembled after forcing the vision away. Their positions had changed. Bagan had backpedaled to the edge of the walkway and had nearly been shoved over, it’s chest clearly smoking from a magical assault it had been blasted with. The walkway Harmony had been standing on had been shattered, it's broken fragments dangling and floating weightlessly in the air. The aftermath of a magical explosion, the echoes of which could still be seen in the energy crackling around the goddess of creation. Harmony’s horn was cloaked in a wreath of magic, honed to a blade, poised at Bagan's collar for another strike.
Her eyes widened, so much in a stupor she didn’t cancel the attack. Her expression morphed into one of horror. With the glowing scimitar still aimed at its neck, Bagan slowly shifted. Encasing its sword-like talons in energy, Extinction slowly reached up and grabbed Harmony by the horn, firmly but surprisingly gently; before moving her back so it could rise. As soon as it was however, Harmony stomped forward and got eye to eye with the other deity.
“Don’t… do that. Again,” she growled, growled, in an extremely quiet tone that masked anxieties or pains.
Extinction regarded Creation. Her hair had become undone and was now unkempt due to power surges causing it to float in a manner similar to, but far more erratic than, that of Celestia or Luna. Moments ago her eyes had been completely whited out by bright rays of dawnslight with the very aura around her body constantly in ebb and flow; almost like her form was demanding to change. It was ever the reminder she was not an equine, not even in the same way Celestia and Luna were. She was just taking the form of one, a choice of her own making. This was a being older than the hills and more powerful than Equestria’s greatest monsters and Terra’s fiercest weapons put together. Mortals referred to anything above them as gods, often without fully grasping what they were witness to. To a fish in a bowl, a child is a god. To scared primitives hiding in caves, thunder and lightning was a god. To the Iwi natives of Skull Island, the greatest of beasts in their mind, Kong, was a god. But to any of them who might ever meet her, there was no question. Harmony was a goddess. And frankly would be more terrifying to most then they would think she was capable of being if she thought poorly of them.
To Extinction however, she was something else far more interesting. Something they had not had in over two hundred and fifty million years. A peer.
Bagan slowly shook its head, “I did nothing. But I did see.”
It extended a scimitar-like claw and motioned to the glassy jetstream bordering the walkway that projected memory and vision. Much to Harmony’s increasing dread, it showed her most dreaded reality come to life. A reality in which the architect of slaughter and retribution was not destruction or extinction. It was her. She who had helped cultivate tens of thousands was ending millions. Sometimes it was an invading force that had overthrown the prior order, conquering its gifts and exhibiting past heroes and heroines of virtue as trophies. Other times, it was those very blessed that turned evil and chose to walk behind none. There were thousands of possibilities, thousands of probabilities, thousands of scenarios… where Harmony ended up just like Grogar…. Or Bagan.
“This is why you divided your power,” Bagan calmly noted, “You were afraid of this. Afraid of one without peer acting by their will. You’re afraid of your own truth.”
Bagan motioned to it all again, indicating a vision were a crystal city of debauchery home to invaders who thought themselves masters of domain by corrupting the crystal heart went up in a magical explosion like it was shouted out of existence, "The future."
"A... possibility," Harmony conceded with a twinge of pain on her face, "One of billions. So numerous none of them are worth harping over."
Harmony swept her horn through the air and dispelled the visions, "There are some where I convince you to stop everything in three words because prior events happened differently. There are others where we join forces for good or for ill for 10,000 years before fighting. Others, something else entirely happens…"
The enormity of the vision screens seemed to stretch on into eternity, displaying untold amounts of scenarios. In one, Sunset Shimmer remained Celestia's apprentice and became the fourth alicorn. In another it was Monster X who crashed into Canterlot Castle to face Luna. Another still had Rarity remain Nightmare Rarity after a calamitous Ghidorah incident at the plateau. A gala with a courting Mothra Lea and Destroyah in attendance. A catastrophic battle at the Crystal Empire leaving Flurry Heart missing a wing and both parents, ward of her aunt and her godfather Xenilla.
Thousands of trillions of possibilities, some only different in the manner of which a speck of dust fell. Harmony drew her hoof across the visions like she was tenderly caressing them, fantasizing about the good and praying against evil. Glowing light parted around her hoof like flowing water.
"No one can truly know which is going to happen," Harmony clarified has she felt Bagan's gaze upon the possibilities, "By the time even you observed twenty thousand of them to see what would transpire to bring them about, so much time would have gone by that you would once again be uncertain of which one was going to come to pass. I spend almost all my time observing, and I am ignorant. It is why I spend my time observing the present and not the futures, only one of them is singular."
Bagan stuck its claws into the streams of memory and vision, letting them flow by it as if they were water in a stream, until, by will of magic in runes its claws cut into the air, it seized hold of one future. Much to Harmony’s dread, it was the one from before. It was the one she turned on everything she held dear, because the mortals had fallen that far. It plucked out the possibility of times tomorrow and contemplated it.
“Are you not destroying your own power because you are afraid you will realize I am right and make the same decision?" It noted so calmly before looking at her.
It placed its taloned hand across its chest, “ I tended to worlds such as Terra for over four thousands, of thousands, of thousand years. I witnessed the first cells combine, propagate, and grow as I walked across the bottoms of oceans and through oceans of stars. I-"
It's words, it sounded both enraged and yet almost nostalgic. But amongst them, as Harmony realized, something else entirely was there. As it held aloft its palm before its face, it was shaking, "I held... The first sapient primate, the first human in my hand. I was not their creator, but I was the patron. I can still remember the first one I've ever taught magic to. Her name was Madoka.... Her great granddaughter, a thousand generations later, was in Mu's central.... Do not think yourself above inevitability. Do not think yourself so moral you can't realize what needs to be done. Terra teamed with life for millions of years before sapience appeared. I almost made the mistake of thinking that shouldn't be the norm. So tell me, Goddess of Creation..."
It's fist clenched and all emotion drained out of it's visage while it blankly stared at her, "Do you fear me because you fear yourself? You are afraid I am your inevitability.”
Harmony, surprisingly, did not shake her head. She nodded, “The ability to abuse power directly scales with power itself…. Had I not diminished myself, I inevitably could make such a decision.”
Bagan perked up slightly at her words, expecting condemnation or foolish rejection. On some level, it was pleased. But it was what she said next that particularly perked its interest.
“But I am not afraid of you….” Harmony whispered before repeating it a bit louder, much so in assurance to herself. Slowly but surely her face contorted, not into a scowl or even a glare of challenge and determination. Instead, she only frowned.
There was hesitation, on Bagan’s part and not hers, where she reached out and gently put her hoof to its claw. Harmony slowly tilted her head in a sign of clear sympathy through a twinge of curiosity.
She sighed, “I’m only afraid of myself, I feel sorry for you…”
Bagan was unmoved, but the fact it flinched briefly spoke volumes, “... Why?”
“Because I know of how strong the magic in bonds can be, I know what it’s like to have a peer, company. I... lost Grogar because I wasn’t there to counteract what set him off. You,” her eyes, those piercing, impaling, and yet warm gazes seem to go right through Bagan now, “You were never meant to be alone…”
The memories of the past were all too obvious behind them. Back when Bagan was Reijuu, back when the Reijuu was once three. Enjin of land, Mizu of sea, and Doragon of sky. Three wardens and caretakers, cultivating life and helping it blossom on countless worlds. For billions of years they accompanied each other and consulted as peers. All until two hundred and fifty million winters ago, in the time man would call the Permian, when they were forced together to protect all of life. Three minds destroyed and their fragments crammed into one. It was the first time they ever felt isolation. The same they had felt until very recently, cut off from any like themselves and what they had become. Bagan yearned for that old feeling, that old spark of company. But for millions of years, it’s mind was alone without tether and without link to two others. Like a single voice calling out into a void with none to answer back as they had for billions of years.
“I’m sorry,” Bagan paused at Harmony’s words and looked out into the void before she continued, “I’m sorry… we couldn’t have met before you changed. Seventy thousand years is short to us, all the more the folly.”
“And what would you have hoped to accomplish?” Bagan stated remarkably quietly.
Harmony signed, knowing futility’s venom, “... I think we could have been friends.”
“....”
Perhaps sensing she had its attention and it was expecting more, now it was Harmony’s turn to reach into the void to pull out not another possible future, but the singularity of the past. Back when Terra, over seventy centuries ago, was subject to a reckoning.
It was just as it was before, Reijuu, now Bagan, flying across the old world and effectively carpet bombing it with diamond shaped stars that would hit cities of ancient civilizations the modern day thought only as myth, and then explode outwards in magnificent reckoning. Seas were evaporated, ground turned to glass, plant, animal, and man vaporized. It was destructive, it had a death count in the millions before hordes of guardians sought to stop it. Entire flocks of moth-like protectors of mortals and the biosphere, Mothra and Battra, took to the air against one who had once been their ancestors’ teacher. By the end of the day they would be reduced down to one each and Bagan would be sealed away under Attu Island in the Bering Sea.
It was a stupendous tale, the tragic end of the First Civilizations whose scattered survivors would be left in a world largely devoid of magic after several final acts to create protectors for their descendents. Those that had been living outside of the kingdoms largely survived only in tiny bands that gradually regressed to a simpler way of life, hunting and gathering without permanent constructs and dwellings returning for over fifty thousand years afterwards. In the modern day, mankind would largely think magic was but a myth outside of a few scattered remnants.
The Toba Catastrophe was epic, decisive, with over 90% of all humans on the planet killed off in but a few hours. But it was haphazard.
Harmony replayed the memory over and over again in front of herself and Bagan, who was utterly silent.
“This memory is playing too quickly,” Harmony noted as she observed it. Slowly her horn emanated a glow with a ring forming around it. She reached up and put her hoof to it, sliding it across the ring like she was turning back the hands of a clock.
The ancient visage of Bagan’s Pleistocene rampage, which have been playing in fast motion, finally slowed down. To those witness to it, they could observe every fine small detail. From the parting of the clouds kilometers away to specks of dust and ash bouncing off Bagan’s brow after it vaporized the island continent of Mu’s capital. The dwelling place of Queens, Kings, commoners, and killer; had seemed to be destroyed entirely. Rendered to but mere glass and ash.
Except when slowed down, it wasn’t. Huge swaths of the city were indeed destroyed, alongside large chunks of the surrounding areas. But as Bagan quickly flew away on aether wings of plasmatic light, something became visible through the smoke. Rubble, not glass, shifted and a hand, not ash, pulled itself free. Slowly but surely, in a span previously unseen, a survivor managed to dig themselves out of the debris. With the falling rain, engendered by evaporated seawater, started to beat down the hanging ash and dust to clear the air. And when it cleared, several towers still stood at their foundations. Some buildings survived, as did their inhabitants. In spite of all the calamity, some practically on ground zero lived.
Harmony watched on, chancing a small smile at seeing the first action those survivors took being to help others get free of the disaster area. Even on different worlds, mortals largely chose right.
“You could have destroyed the entire island,” she whispered.
Bagan was unmoved. Its past self went to vaporizing another city with a storm of diamond stars, a very quick way of a reckoning. Very much unlike Grogar’s monstrous horde.
“There shouldn’t have been any survivors if you were so dedicated. And the city isn’t the only one. Are you going to excuse it by saying the approaching Mothra and Battra hordes would have inconvenienced you, so you were in a hurry?” Harmony raised an eyebrow.
Bagan slowly looked over at her, tensing when it noticed she had moved and was standing right next to it, eye to eye.
Her stare was piercing as it was long. She glanced aside to glimpse the recollection of the past. Now without it being sped up, because its rememberer wanted to forget, she could see. It actually wasn’t being sloppy. Bagan, in its retreat to fly to the next city to bomb out of existence, had looked back. It looked back and locked eyes with a survivor standing amidst a hill of rubble. With but a point of its finger it could have cleaned up. Could have finished it. It didn’t.
“You were holding back,” Harmony’s words bit in deep, “You didn’t want to do it.”
“I would have returned to finish it, but I needed to be quick about the first phase.”
Harmony hummed as she pondered. Equally possible, in fact very doable. Get the hardest parts done first and then get the details. In some ways it was the same as her possibility of the future. Strike out at those who have harmed the good, bastardized her blessings, and make trophies out of her chosen. Then get to the finer points of being a beacon of devastation. But what lay in the future was but the possibility, not a singularity. That honor was bestowed to the past and present. And in the past Bagan had held back. And in the present it seemed… hurt.
Bagan’s head had tilted down, having turned away to face instead towards Harmony’s story and its possible end where she made the same decision it had. Harmony slowly shifted to stand beside it again and her strong, furrowed brow lowered in their locked stares. Her frown was small but powerful, defeating Bagan’s stoicism. It opted to look away before anything else happened.
For a moment Bagan seemed to contemplate more, before looking away from the possibilities and memories flowing by while putting the possibility of a future where Harmony became like it away. Creation inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.
Their confrontation with her future and its past was a tie.
“You still know what must and will happen. You will take up your full power and you will be a reckoning,” Bagan blankly stated while looking across at its company, “The mortals will eventually force you to do so.”
Harmony frowned again, having dared to get her hopes up, but more in a mild annoyance than anger. As if someone had just said something foolish, “I can’t deny it could happen. What does matter is if it will. I’ve already given up much of my power, I intend to give up more if it’s needed.”
“But you think your actions make the possibility you will follow my example negligible, you do them because you fear being alike to me,” Bagan dryly retorted with a bit of curiosity seeping out in its tone, “Just like you know the diminishing possibilities you can convince me to stop.”
“Just like I no doubt scare you because I haven’t acted as you are...” She felt Bagan's attention upon her and Harmony chanced a humored chuckle, “I intrigue you because I am the only one like you, yet I frighten you for the same reason. I'm the only one who's ever done that, aren't I?”
She was unmoved by the mutual fear and intrigue she could see clashing between them in every twitch or pause, “I won’t lie, I very much wish I could talk you out of this path of your's. Some possibilities say I can. You did find the door open and didn't come in on the attack, after all.”
Bagan turned its head to consider the way it had come into this realm. The link between the Harmonium and Zenith.
“You chose not to fortify. If I had been stronger I could have possibly ended what I started the first time.”
Harmony nodded slightly but motioned to several memories along the traveling streams. One of a beloved deity named Reijuu, and of the heroic three aspects that sacrificed everything to save one world.
“I’ve been doing research since your last visit,” Harmony poised with a smirk, “It’s a good story if you ignore the ending… Well, it’s not over yet. In plenty, you return to what you once were.”
Her company too regarded its own and Harmony’s tales.
“Just as your tale isn’t over yet,” Bagan noted, “Truth has yet to come to fruition. In plenty you fall away from where you are now and once were.”
Bagan slid its claws together contemplatively, holding the sword-like appendages before its face to gaze upon its palm. It had been over seventy-thousand years since it had been imprisoned under Attu Island. It had been several months since it had been freed by Dimension Tide and since then it had been quite busy. Subjugating and conquering the demonic realm of Zenith by purging its malefic inhabitants and expelling its former master, corralling and enlisting the service of numerous kaiju, enacting schemes across multiple worlds, and of course… previously invading the Harmonium and trying to kill Harmony personally. It took a god to kill a god after all.
All of this was laid out across the streams of magic that projected the memory, paralleling the stories of Harmony and Grogar. On one world three aspects had been forced to become one, a protector turned executioner. On another world, twin avatars of creation and destruction enacted their craft until differences forced them apart.
Harmony stood tall and tilted her head, “You came here for a reason. State it.”
It seemed like an hour of silence before Bagan finally spoke again, “You gave away your power to mortals, I seek to regain mine. Do you not intend to restore yourself if I do? You and I both know you’re the only one that could possibly stop me.”
Creation took in a slow breath before smiling calmly, as if looking upon an old friend who just said something foolish, “I’ll be the judge of that… And your other question?”
Bagan looked to the windows in the realms beyond, “There are four of mine in your domain, you know of whom I speak. I cannot look into that world deeply.”
“And you intend to force me to show you?” Harmony cocked an eyebrow, “After all this talk of disparaging mortals you seem to show concern for these four?”
For a moment Bagan seemed to tense up, crackling energy arcing between horns and spines, that soon however dissipated. It relaxed.
“.... I was requesting it, Harmony,” Bagan noted, using her name for the first time, “I already know of their interaction with the natives so I know they are not alone.”
Harmony’s brow furrowed, as if contemplating how it figured this out. For a moment she almost readied herself as if to act on the promise to Irys that Sunset Shimmer would be all right. But then she noticed something. Something rather indescribable. It would take a deity to surmise the body language of a being completely unlike anything native to their realm, but that is exactly what she was. Physical bodies were, after all, extensions of one’s choice when you were like her. She was no more an equine than Grogar was a ram or Bagan a dragon, they just looked like them. It seemed, however odd it was to say such and it would be completely undetectable to a mortal, uneasy. Contemplating something for sure.
Bagan shrugged, at calm in her company, “Monster X and his companions are my most successful and loyal subordinates, especially now that the uncontrollable Kaizer Ghidorah has been controlled. That is why I sent the other three to aid. I wish to see their progress, if they need more assistance.”
“You tried to kill him,” Harmony frowned, “You sent you aspect, Enjin, to kill him and take his power.”
Bagan was unmoved, “The power of Kaizer Ghidorah was a wildfire that could have killed other subordinates and risked all plans.”
“Yet he has control of it now,” Harmony countered before a victorious smirk crossed the edge of her lips, “Largely thanks to a bond formed with someone he met in the domain you sent him to… let me guess, you sought lethal force because you didn’t think anyone was capable of giving him the strength to tame that dragon within him? Especially not effectively the granddaughter of Grogar?”
“Unexpected, but a fortunate outcome,” Bagan noted, “I mind you, Kaizer's surrender occurred in Zenith, however.”
Harmony humored a nod, “It was quite surprising to me when I found out he had upon his return, but Aria Blaze did a large share of invigorating X to not lose to Kaizer… Oh, wouldn’t that mean your lack of faith in mortals created an outcome you did not perceive possible? Hehe, pessimism doesn’t get you far.”
“And optimism is lethal. He nearly killed his entire team while I was busy,” Bagan hissed.
Harmony raised an ear, "Are you getting attached to those four now, Bagan?"
Bagan was unmoving and growled, “Stop.Stalling.”
Harmony raised an eyebrow, “Why, in a hurry?”
“I am over 4 billion years old.”
The bluntness of the reply actually caused Harmony to snicker briefly. She at last fully relaxed.
“I’ll take that as a no,” she noted while drawing up a viewing screen to show the campground, “They have plenty of help. Observe.”
Bagan had once again come to the Harmonium. And Harmony did not react more than to acknowledge. Bagan had not invaded. It had found an open door and a waiting audience.
No blows exchanged, no actions taken. Harmony and Bagan faced to one another as a viewing screen of the events within the human realm resumed, this time showing a jovial, impromptu sleepover between three very unlikely friends. A kaiju created as a weapon of war, a sea witch born from the seed of Grogar’s own creation, and a Bearer of Laughter; were all together as Megalon and Pinkie Pie got into a pillow fight to amuse Sonata Dusk. In perfect unison, both gods turned to the sight to regard it.
The night was spent observing mortals, not just those of the campground but also in the world beyond. Harmony showed Bagan those of which she admired so much and, perhaps as she hoped, Bagan observed mortals closely for the first time in a long time.
Inwardly, without ever saying it, it did agree with its now immortal enemy. Harmony would have to die eventually, and it was the only one that could do it. The only one that could do it to fulfill this purpose. Unless it could convince her otherwise, she would have to die and somehow, Bagan was skeptical it could change her mind despite its assurance of inevitability. But they did agree on one thing, something it almost wished for.
It wished it could have met Harmony seventy thousand years ago. Perhaps things would’ve been different, perhaps things would’ve been the same. But it would have been far less alone.
Her words, her curse that plagued it's mind as she did, the foul slur. She had wished she could have had Reijuu as a friend. Bagan resisted a snarl.
How dare she? Such a hex from the witch it-... No, no. It wouldn't lower itself to such lies of insults. She was an enemy, but one to be respected.
Bagan regarded its enemy. Enemy and nothing else. But to Reijuu… Yes, yes she could have been their friend. Reijuu would have been thrilled to live in blissful ignorance with Harmony as a friend. Another curse to their time and to their folly. Ignorance was bliss, but it wouldn't last forever. Truth and inevitability would win in the end.
It just needed to make her see that.
Author's Note
Proofed by Faith-Wolff and Lance-Omikron
Bagan by Tomoyuki Tanaka from Toho Company Ltd.
Harmony by Heilos in world of My Little Pony, G1, 2, 3, and 4 by Hasbro Studios.
