Komm, Süßer Schein

"Well, you know what they say. Every good story starts with an old book of law and ends with the destruction of reality."

"Nobody says that, and you're not helping."

Sunburst frowned. "I was just trying to lighten up the mood." He looked into the distance, at the endless sea of blackness beyond the confines of the chunk of rock he and what was left of Twilight sat on.

Twilight's head stared at him with her permanent, petrified expression of worry. "You really shouldn't try to do this. There's nothing to be happy about in all this."

Sunburst patted the grey piece of stone lying in front of him. "Yeah, but there's nothing we can do either. Might as well try to find a way to enjoy ourselves."

"That's a pessimistic view of things," the rock replied.

"It's a realistic one, Twilight." He looked into the distance again. "The magic we have is barely enough to keep you talking. We're stranded here into nothingness, and there's nothing in sight for miles."

"You never know, Sunburst. We don't have to believe this is the end. There's always-"

Just as she was saying that, the rock shook for a moment. Then, a grey pony slowly poked her head from beneath it, a letter in her mouth. Her eyes stared in opposite directions, and neither of the two towards the ponies, yet it was somehow clear she was looking at them.

"Ah, hello Miss. We were just talking about you," Sunburst greeted her. He stepped up and grabbed the letter from her mouth with a hoof, then returned to Twilight.

"What does it say?" the mineralised remains of Twilight's head asked.

Sunburst gave a short, sharp sigh of resigned annoyance. "You know I can't read that griffon's writing. Here," he said, lowering the letter and turning it towards Twilight.

As the alicorn's eyes ran over the parchment, Derpy lifted herself up on the floating rock, and tried to walk towards the duo with her back on the ground before her sense of gravity finally caught up.

"So?" Sunburst asked, taking back the letter and fetching one of Twilight's quills, now stone as well, from its place at his side.

"Nothing," answered Twilight, in as defeated of a tone as her unnaturally replicated voice allowed her. "Still nothing."

"At least he's alright." Sunburst scribbled something on the letter, then passed it to the mailmare. "To Gallus the griffon, member of the Royal Guard," he instructed.

The grey mare gave a salute, then took off, flying upside-down in the direction opposite to the one she'd come from.

Sunburst sat there, observing her for a moment, and pondering if she knew something he didn't about the way the universe worked when torn apart or if they'd merely been unreasonably lucky.

"Hey," Twilight called him. "Is everything alright?"

Sunburst looked down after a moment, and stared at the broken fragments of what had once been a Princess, now stone. "No. I would say nothing is alright, Twilight."