The city had seen better days.

As Lieutenant Jacques Dubois looked on, he marveled more and more that the city hadn't fallen from it's perch onto the plain. Surely, it had been held up by magic throughout its entire history, or it wouldn't have gotten as large as it was.

What it was now...

Smoke arose from the outskirts of the city as the 19th Maine National Guard marched through the city streets, along with the rest of the victory procession. Twilight Sparkle had surrendered, after weeks of Canterlot being under siege.

It hadn't come soon enough.

It was amazing how Canterlot had managed to survive almost a month. Overcrowded, constantly bombarded and low of food, the population had been willing to fight to the end.

The eyes of many ponies revealed that all too well.

Professor - no, Lieutenant - Dubois could see what they were feeling. The hate and rage that many ponies were giving would have likely melted the city if looks could kill. It was fortunate that physics didn't work that way.

Not all were hateful. Some looked at the conquerors with the same kind of stares that soldiers got when they'd been in combat too long; empty and looking through, rather than at, the victors. Some were merely cautious, especially parents who were there with foals.

The lieutenant looked at a row of Equestrian soldiers who had laid down their arms. None of them were in a mood to give their former opponents any gratitude or compassion; clearly, if anyone - any pony - told them to, they'd try to savage the human soldiers and their Resistance comrades as they marched through the streets.

The pride of the victors was evident upon their faces. And why not? Some of them had been fighting through five years of horror. Naturally, some felt they had earned the right to stride like arrogant peacocks.

The lieutenant didn't like that pride, but there was little he could do about it, and, to be honest, the men had fought hard for this victory... along with those ponies who had joined the Resistance.

Many of the latter had seen days just as dark as any human soldier. Worse, even, as the ESS hunted down those in Equestria and their own families, for lack of a stronger term, disowned them. Some of those families had even tried to kill their own brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, and grandparents for siding with the human nations, regardless of their reasons for defecting.

Many of the Resistance hadn't done more than simple acts of espionage. Some had leaked information to the Allies. Others had infiltrated various projects, including the Conversion Program, and tried to sabotage them. Some had helped other dissidents to escape the authorities, and taken the risks that that had entailed. Many of those ordinary heroes had died, or been caught doing it. What had happened to them, the former professor didn't know.

Most of the Resistance ponies marching in the column had been in combat units. There weren't many of them compared to their human comrades, but they had shared the burdens of war; they'd been in trenches, fought against their own people, held dying friends in their forelegs, and many had been wounded. Though some human soldiers still detested them because of what the majority of their species had done - or more to the point, who and what they had sided with - they had proven their loyalty to the cause, just as any human soldier.

Many of the latter were singing in their native languages. Americans, Russians, Chinese, Frenchmen, Britons, and many, many more were all competing as to who could sing their national songs the loudest. Many of the Mainers in his unit were singing "The Army goes Rolling Along" and "The Star-Spangled Banner;" one, Corporal Davis, was singing the "Sixteen Counties in our State" song that they'd learned in school as kids.

Davis had always been the platoon clown, Jacques thought, smiling at a few happy memories.

Not far from Davis, a pony who had taken up citizenship in America, Bright Spirit, whistled an Equestrian song that had been popularized by some pony called Countess Coloratura. Or at least, that had been her stage name; Spirit, as everyone called him, said she had changed it to something more basic. Either way, that particular song had shown a love for his old homeland. From what Jacques could tell, he had always loved Equestria, even when he'd sided with his adopted country over it. He wasn't singing the words aloud; too much love for Equestria could easily be seen as siding with the enemy, even now. But a good whistle was still appreciated.

"Human scum!"

Jacques turned to see one of the ex-Guards snarling at the column.

"Get out of our country, you subpony beasts!"

Several of his men growled; three broke formation, their bayonetted M-22 rifles fixed.

"Get your backsides back in line!" the lieutenant yelled, dropping his private thoughts for the moment.

"What, too cowardly to face us? If that witch Twilight Sparkle hadn't surrendered, you'd all be dead like the vermin you are!" a civilian pony jeered.

More of his men began to break formation, clearly out to teach hecklers a lesson.

Jacques fingered his pistol. "Any of you who kills a non-combatant will be in front of a firing squad before the day is out!" he screamed.

His men turned to regard him.

"For the last time, get back in the blasted line. They aren't hurling bullets any more. We've won, and they know it. Let them shout; it's all they can do to us now."

The men grumbled and growled, but obeyed, eyeing their hecklers with hate of their own. Jacques sighed.

"Worthless, proud monkey scumbags!"

"Furless apes!"

"Death to traitors!"

"Filth! Siding with hairless gorillas instead of your own people!"

"Down with humanity!"

"Death to the butchers of the Crystal Empire!"

Despite the continued shouts and insults, his men didn't break formation anymore, though their singing mood had soured quite badly, and many glared at the watching crowds with at least as much hate and anger as the ponies were manifesting toward them.

Haven't we seen enough death? he thought, sighing.

"Vengeance for Ponyville!"

Jacques turned, but it was only an unarmed earth pony mare. She glared with even more hate than most of the ponies in the crowd.

"Death to the murderers of my sister! Of my TOWN!"

"Giraud, if that rifle isn't back on your shoulder in minus 1 second, you're in massive trouble!" Jacques bellowed as one of his men took his M-22 and began to point it at the mare.

"Kiss it, lieu-"

Jacques ran forward and punched him in the face; Giraud fell to the ground, surprised by the blow. "Rifle, shoulder, now," the lieutenant commanded in a no-nonsense voice. "Or you clean latrines with a toothbrush for five months straight. She doesn't have a gun, and the Thalmann Generators have neutralized all their magic. All she can do (safely do, he thought with discomfort) is hate and yell. You kill her, I'll personally make sure it's a court martial and a firing squad for you. As it is, you're doing KP for the night, and you'll do it all week if I hear so much as one complaint out of you."

Giraud, still furious but - reluctantly - obedient, set his rifle back on his shoulder and continued marching, only pausing to spit at the watch crowd and utter not-so-quiet incendiary language towards those ponies who jeered.

He wasn't the only one. Some of the humans continued to march without breaking stride, despite the foul words hurled their way. But many, now that some of the defeated had the courage to insult them, hurled foul language back, and obviously not all of them were Americans.

Fortunately, the column continued to march without incident. A few ponies threw rocks, but they were arrested without any gunshots being fired. The message was clear to the defeated ponies; You've lost, and if you try any real trouble, you'll regret it.

Praise be to God that we've shown such restraint! Jacques prayed, looking skyward for a moment, his hand going to the little wooden cross that was within a chest pocket in his fatigues. Were it not for True Divine intervention, any ponies who jeered at us would get shot... and that's if nothing worse happened to them!

It really was a miracle that the men showed the restraint they did; many had lost family members, either killed by enemy action, lost to the infernal conversion potion, or fallen to famine and disease that loved to accompany war. That didn't even take into account the loss of brothers in arms in combat.

Thank God it's over. It's really, truly over. The realization, and the relief that accompanied it, finally came through. Somehow, he hadn't fully realized it until now. Five years of death and humans being turned into human-hating automatons were well and truly over. Now...

Now several squadrons of jet fighters, each from different countries, flew overhead, their engines screaming; an American squadron flew in formation to spell out "USA," and squadrons from other countries made similar formations for their countries. Tanks, APCs, and rocket artillery were rolling in the streets along with the infantry. It reminded the former professor of the Allied celebrations when World War II had ended.

I guess technically, this counts as World War III. It was a global war, after all. And we've beaten the biggest threat humanity has faced to its existence so far.

He frowned, remembering the cost. Three billion, gone; dead, or Newfoals. Almost half the human population was simply gone. Entire nations were out for the count, their citizens either dead, refugees, turned into organic robots, or liquidized by the barrier. Australia and New Zealand, and most of Oceania, would take a very long time to recover, not least since the barrier had destroyed so much high-level technology that might have remained... and also the ponies had scorched the earth, sometimes very literally, in order to deny the humans anything that remained. houses and towns were gone, as if they'd never existed.

That's not even counting Rome... and Mecca. And so many landmarks...

He felt a familiar kick in the gut as he tried to push the thought of Republican and Imperial Rome out of his head. The loss of so much history - so much of what had made the West great, in a purely materialist sense - reduced to blue glass, along with all who lived in them.

Millions of ponies - including some 4 million from the Crystal Empire - were also gone. The thought of the latter made Jacque flinch. Somehow, the better armed nations, including the US, China, and Russia had withheld the nuclear option, despite the murder of the latter's president. Some Middle-Eastern country - probably Iran, he thought - hadn't bothered with restraint after the Battle of Jerusalem.

The parade finally came to a halt in front of Canterlot Palace. A large float in front of the armies halted; top brass from several countries climbed the steps onto the float, which essentially was a platform for what was to come next.

Field Marshall John Bingham* III stepped up to the central microphone. Although the United States had been selected to lead the charge into Equestria, and General Robert Darcy had been the overall commander, it was Bingham, from Great Britain, who had been the field commander for the invasion. He was actually a rather stereotypical British general, from what Jacques had heard. After Manehatten had fallen, Bingham had nearly been killed by an artillery shell fired from those Equestrian guns still operational; his only response to nearly dying, according to the men on the scene, had been to say, "Nasty thing," of the shell. Call him what one will, he was no coward.

"Soldiers of the Grand Alliance," the Field Marshall began, "we have now reached the end of five years of torment. Countless lives have been lost. Our nations reel in economic disarray. Our many peoples have been gutted, by shot and potion alike. And we ourselves will bear the deeper scars within our very minds for the rest of our days."

That's true, if nothing else is, Jacques thought. Needless to say, PTSD was going to be a thing for a very long time. Doctors wouldn't be running out of patients anytime soon, barring Judgment Day.

"But we have come through the fire and out the other side," the Field Marshall continued. "Humanity lives. Our children, our wives, brothers, mothers, and their children, are now safe from the nightmare that has plagued our world for so long. Our world can now begin to rebuild. Our nations, our institutions, our culture, our religion, our legacy, lives. Even as I speak, work had begun on repairing cities ruined by the war, Rome and Mecca not least among them. We shall rebuild those landmarks - the Statue of Liberty, the Great Wall, the Forbidden Palace, the -" Here the Marshall's voice broke for a moment, and tears came to his eyes - "the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben, the Coliseum of Rome, the Sydney Opera House, Saint Basil's Cathedral, all shall be rebuilt to their former glory."

"It is to you men, the men on the ground, to whom we owe our victory, and our chance to revive our world. Without your efforts, our many peoples, and the very memory of them, would have been washed away; we would be dead, or worse, reduced to organic slaves to equine masters, incapable of any thought contrary to what they would have us think. Thanks to God Almighty, and to the boots on the ground, that eventuality has been utterly vanquished."

"I have seen common soldiers do uncommon things, worthy of remembrance the world over. I have seen men weep over comrades lost, seen the graves that lined our advance, watched as men passed away in field hospitals. I have seen men - and ponies of the Resistance - sacrifice their lives so their fellows could live."

"Many of you have seen much more, and much worse; some of you were in cities when they were destroyed by our enemy. Many of you have seen the cruelty they've inflicted firsthand. All too many of you have had to watch as a child or a parent was consumed by our enemy's infernal invention, sometimes a relative or even your son or daughter, had to watch with tears as they despised you for simply being born human."

"I know that it is naïve to expect men who have seen so much to forgive so soon. It is naïve to think that the world would forgive so soon. But as we stand here, in the ruins of what was our foes' capital, we must look to the future; a future where hatred engendered by our so often hypocritical enemies, a future we have the chance to live again without fear of the confounded potion, a future where Man must put aside his hate and thoughts of revenge and prove that he is, while no less mortal than our adversaries, no more a monster than they are."

"Gentlemen, I have been honored to have commanded you in battle. You are worthy of the accolades of generations past, worthy of the men who gave their lives to stop Nazi tyranny and Communist dictatorships, worthy of the men of D-Day and so many more. It is not without great feeling, not without great regret, that we must ultimately depart. It has been too long for most of you, I know. Most of you will doubtless return to the normalcy, such as it can be, of civilian life. I wish you great success in all good things you do. As a more worthy man than I once said upon dismissing his army, if you prove to be as good citizens as you were soldiers, I shall always be proud of you."

"With that, may God bless you all, and may you all live lives of peace."

As the Field Marshall's speech ended, seven armored soldiers, armed with plasma rifles, stepped forward; raising their weapons to the sky, they fired three times each. The Dyow! sound of the plasma rifle wasn't the same, in Jacques opinion, as the roar of the traditional rifle for a salute. But there was no denying the spectacle, nor how far human arms had developed in just five years.

The Field Marshall's speech was now being translated so that the men of non-Anglophone countries could understand. As planned beforehand, English-speaking units began to disperse. Some would go back to base; others, like the 19th, were going to occupy the city.

The 19th's colonel, John Wiśniewski, began shouting orders; "Men, we've been assigned to the Old Town District. We'll set up our quarters within any non-residential buildings we can find. I expect you to behave like soldiers and not like drunken morons. We're dealing with a hostile population, so I expect you all to be prepared."

"Why did we get assigned to occupation duty?" one of the men near Jacques grumbled.

You'd think, after the action we've seen, the 19th would be treated like proper soldiers instead of just militia! Jacques pushed that thought down as fast as he could. He could understand the men's irritation of being treated as mere occupation troops while the army divisions, including units with magical shields, armor and plasma rifles, got to leave and go on much more pleasant duties. But nonetheless, that was the role they'd been assigned. And the National Guard, regardless of their state, did have regs and standards to live up to.

"I also expect civilized behavior. We're not the thugs the ponies have made us out to be these past fifteen years, and I expect you all to act on you best behavior, even while on your guard. Any misbehavior - including rape and looting - will get back to me, and any man responsible for it will answer to me personally!"

That was no idle threat. Jacques had seen Wiśniewski court martial and execute a man who had killed a surrendering Royal Guard; the man's claim that the enemy soldier had "fought to the death" had been easily debunked.

"Alright; Captain Elson, take your men up Noble Street. Captain Fox, you'll..."

Jacques took the time to look around at the wreckage. Although Canterlot had been shielded for most of the siege, some ordinance had made it in; numerous buildings were reduced to wrecks, and others, though still standing, were damaged, some badly so.

Of course, it had been worse in Ponyville, which the 19th had marched through on it's way to Canterlot. The entire town had been flattened; nothing else came close to describing it. The bombers that had leveled the town and castle there had spared almost no brick or piece of wood in that town. Jacques allowed himself a moment's sympathy for the mare who had cried for vengeance earlier, before he remembered walking through Rome, devastated at the destruction of not just the Vatican, but the entire city. An entire history, an entire city gone with it's people, just echoes on the wind, a single cross from Saint Peter's Basilica all that remained... other than a sea of blue glass.

The Papacy had been reformed in Geneva, Switzerland, after those cardinals who had been out of Rome when the latter was destroyed had reconvened there and elected a new Pope. The Papacy would likely remain there until Rome was rebuilt.

Can we rebuild it? he thought. The work of the Roman Republic, the Empire, the works of Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci... can we rebuild or restore them at all? And who would want to live on one of the largest grave sites in history!?

He sighed once more. The world... had changed. He still felt bad for the mare, but still...

"Captain Reynolds, take your men up to 17th Street."

Jacques snapped out of it. That was his company commander being called out. That meant that 5th Company was going to 17th Street, wherever that was.

"Follow me, men," Reynolds shouted, so all could hear. "We'll find a place to set up shop; bound to be someplace that doesn't have anybody living there."

He's all too likely to be right, Jacques thought, the ever-present smell of death clogging his nose.

17th Street turned out to be on the edge of Canterlot. While the center of the city had mostly escaped damage, the edges weren't so fortunate. Ruined houses and businesses were much more common along the periphery.

There wasn't total desolation, though. A small café was still standing, labelled Pony Joe's Bar and Donuts, though some of the walls were damaged and the windows were all busted.

"Alright, second platoon," Jacques said, turning to face his men, "we'll be occupying this area of the city. First platoon will takeover at nightfall. Until then, we're here to keep the peace in this city."

"Kill them all, and we wouldn't have to keep the peace," one of his men muttered to another.

"I heard that," Jacques said sharply. "Wayon**, Jansen, the war's over."

"Wouldn't be an occupation if some of them ponies weren't expected to cause us trouble."

That's true, Jacques thought to himself. "Still, we're not here to take advantage of them. Stay out of trouble, or else there will be trouble."

"And what if they attack us, loot?"

"Then you can engage. But only then. And if I find you used any loopholes in that as an excuse for murder, I'll have you dishonorably discharged - in public, before us and the ponies - before you get sent to the firing squad. We've seen enough death in battle alone, we don't need to kill any more unless we absolutely 100% have to. Sergeant Collins, take your squad and patrol the next block over."

He continued to instruct the squads on their patrol and occupation routes until all of them were set. As the final squad set out, Jacques breathed a sigh of relief.

At least that's over an done with... I hope. As he looked around, happier memories from his days a a professor came... before the war, before the human-pony divide had become so terrible that they couldn't be reconciled.

Eight years ago, 2042, three years before the war

"So, we have the breakdown of Roman societal norms. The overreliance on slave labor meant that technologies that could have improved the state received no investment, because people usually prefer the cheapest solution to a problem and slaves were technically free labor for their owners. In addition, plantations were growing cash crops instead of the grain needed to feed the nation; without enormous imports of food, there would be famine. There was inflation, as the coinage was debased; silver and gold merely plated over less-precious metals, leading to prices going up. And, of course, the 'barbarian' invasions. This was the time of wandering tribes from the north, and as we've seen, the Foederati system designed to defend Roman border zones could - and would be - turned against it."

Jacque lowered the ruler he'd been using to highlight the points on the board, which was illuminated by a powerpoint on his computer that had been connected into a projector. "Yes?" he asked, pointing to a pony student who had raised her hoof.

"Why didn't the Romans just... I don't know, try to make friends with the other powers and try friendship instead of everything they actually did?"

This kind of question, he mused, keeping his emotions in check. "First off, the ancient nations were generally warlike states, with Rome being one that rather expected war in its earlier stages. To ally with a power equal to you was generally out of the question, partly because your own people would not like it and partly because the other side would never agree to it. The only power Rome had nearby that was anywhere near as powerful - as a state rather than nomadic tribes - was the Sassanid Empire, who were enemies of the Romans. I should also point out that there were no conventions or major international institutions in place at the time; in fact, the Hague and Geneva Conventions are less than two hundred years old as of now.

"Second, they did, in a sense, with the Foederati contact system. Tribes would be allowed into Roman lands in the late Imperial period, but in exchange, they had to defend the border areas. The problem was, letting militarized peoples enter your borders wasn't the best idea for defending the border areas of the empire; these tribes had their own agendas, naturally. And the Romans maintained a negative opinion of them... much as ponies used to other tribes in their own world.

"Third, in the 200s AD, the Roman Empire went through what we call today the Third Century Crisis. This wasn't just one issue; it was a cascading series of events that badly weakened the Empire, and the issues were never fully solved. There was persecution of Christians, there were 'barbarian' invasions, there were Sassanid wars, there were assassinations of emperors and civil wars; it was just a mess. Even though Emperor Diocletian managed to stabilize the Empire for a time, in a material sense at least, he at best put a bunch of band-aids that ultimately didn't manage to stick, if you want my viewpoint on that. Imperial leaders, always looking over their shoulders for potential assassins, having to deal with the military and financial issues, and trying to maintain their power, weren't likely to look for the most 'friendly' of ways to resolve a crisis."

"Seems kind of dumb to leave your defense to a bunch of foreign tribes."

"One thing the Romans have been heavily scrutinized for doing, and is a topic of debate for historians even today. Of course, the whole point of the Foederati system was that Rome didn't have enough soldiers to patrol and hold every inch of borderland, so..."

Another pony in the class raised his hoof.

"Yes?"

"Why did they allow slavery? Why wasn't it just done away with?"

"Why did anyone allow slavery?" Jacques sighed. "It provided a source of income, it was cheap and free - at least to the slaveowners, other than having to provide food, shelter, clothing, and drink - and when you took prisoners of war, there were only three options. You could kill them, which gained you nothing and was objected to by many even in that time; you could release them, but then they could go back into their nation's military and be part of another war against you; or you could enslave them and get some use out of them instead of slaughtering them or letting them go to be a continued danger to you. Additionally, some people who were extremely poor and homeless willingly gave up their freedom to become slaves so they could ensure themselves and their families the basic needs to continue living. To such people, freedom from slavery would have meant an uncertain future in an insecure world."

"How could people be so evil?"

Jacques wiped his glasses before replying. "I'm not saying that slavery is, or was, necessarily a good thing. And I think that history shows a gradual movement away from slavery. Even at the time of the Romans, not everyone liked slavery. Some owners freed their slaves, sometimes in their wills, sometimes within their lifetimes. Bartolome de las Casas was a Catholic friar who, although he initially owned slaves in the form of an encomienda, ultimately freed them and spent the rest of his life denouncing the system, even going so far as to deny confession, forgiveness, and last rites to those who owned encomiendas and slaves. In the US during the 1800's, many abolitionist Christians pointed to the Bible to oppose slavery and to counter those who used the Bible as a means to keep slavery; for instance, if you've been ordered to love your neighbor and not oppress strangers, why are you doing just that by treating them differently from other people, that is, by keeping them in bondage? We also have secular as well as religious statements from the time of slavery in the US from slaves and ex-slaves who roundly condemned the system from within, such as Harriet Jacobs' Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl. And slavery is generally hated today. In other words, while slavery is, and was, an awful system, human beings have been moving toward destroying it.

"And that could be said about some of the other evils humans have been known for. For instance, energy is becoming cleaner as scientists come up with new energy sources and ways to upgrade existing ones. The crystal plants, fueled by crystals generously lent to us by Equestria, have cut down on carbon emissions immensely. Loggers routinely plant seeds to replace every tree they cut down. We won't have a perfect world this side of Heaven, but we can move closer to perfect; as the US Constitution says, the Founding Fathers were trying to establish 'a more perfect union,' not one that was perfect, that being beyond the scope of created individuals, human or pony, to build."

He clucked his tongue. "I know I've gone off on a bit of a tangent here, but the point is, while societies used to allow slavery en-masse, there has been a gradual, general movement away from it. And that pattern can be seen in many areas today, sometimes to a fault. That's not to say that all movement regarding social norms has been good; I believe that society has become far too openly sensual and sexual in the past several decades, and that a lot of people do things according to emotions or feelings instead of looking to what actually works and applying that to the problems at hand, just to name a couple of things I believe are going downhill. But I do think that demonizing human society without taking a good look at one's own beliefs, behavior, and ideology is unjust and unfair, ladies and gentlemen."

He looked at the clock; he'd accidentally run two minutes overtime. "Okay, we're a bit overtime. Sorry about that. I expect your papers on the Third Century Crisis to be done by Monday; I'll have to take off ten points for every day they're late."

The class began to leave. Humans and ponies were talking as they did, but Jacques felt disheartened to see only a couple humans talking to a couple ponies. He suppressed a sigh and began to gather up his things and put them in a bookbag.

He watched the last students leave, then began moving to the door himself, only to stop upon seeing a certain yellow earth pony mare with a brown mane.

"Good afternoon, Miss Candy Corn."

"Mr. Dubois," she said, though without much respect in her voice.

"What is it you want to talk about? I have another class to go to be at in seven minutes.

"We can talk as we go. But we must talk, and now."

"Don't I get a say in that, this being my own country and state?"

She frowned at him. "I'm afraid I must insist. It's important."

"I suppose it must be." He walked out of the room, and she walked next to him, hooves clip-clopping against the floor.

"I must report the bad behavior of some your students within my classroom," Candy Corn said. "They've been disrupting my classes and the flow of my teaching."

"How do you know they're from my class, and what exactly do you have to accuse them of?"

"They point to your view on history, naming you personally in their objections, along with the views of other professors and students on this campus. They've also been questioning things about Equestrian society that ought not be questioned. They continually ask disturbing questions about how our people do things."

"I'm afraid I don't get what's wrong with that. Students question me all the time, they question other professors here and schoolteachers elsewhere; the whole point of being a student is to learn."

"But not at the expense of the teacher."

"What questions have they been asking, exactly? I doubt it's anything... physically disgusting."

"No-o-o-o," Candy Corn ground out. "But they continually ask me things like, 'Why do all ponies have to believe in friendship?' and 'what proof do you have that the Princesses are gods?' and say things like, 'that sounds cult-like,' when I try to talk to them about harmony."

"So you're mad because they're questioning your ideology and religion. That happens everyday in America and throughout the West. I, for one, feel nervous about Christianity being questioned, but that doesn't mean I'm not obligated to answer; if I don't, then the objection goes unanswered and the other person can take that as a win for what they believe... or perhaps for what they don't believe or want to believe. Why should it be any different simply because it's Equestria, it's culture, and it's religion being questioned?"

"But it's objectively better than what you have! Why should I let a perfect society be questioned?"

Jacques had to cough to prevent himself from laughing as they exited the building and went outside; she glared at him. "Miss Candy Corn, with all due respect, it's not a perfect society. Before the age of Friendship, the three main tribes - discounting Thestrals or bat-ponies, because they're left out of the story for some reason - were at each others' throats. Even though they moved on from that, it was only because three brave dissenters from that pre-unification society got together to found the very ideology you love so much today. And why should we be obligated to accept the Princesses as gods? According to the Hearthswarming pageants I've been to on campus, unicorns used to raise the sun and the moon; the only difference back in your world was that only one pony was moving each celestial body, rather than a group of individuals. The Princesses aren't even mentioned in those pageants except maybe in a memorial at the end of the play, so it seems obvious they weren't even around at the time of unification. I must also note that it is commonly accepted that Princess Luna fell to jealousy and became Nightmare Moon, despite her deification by the Church of Harmony. And there are still tensions even today within Equestrian society. There are nobles, who have power because they're nobles and not necessarily for any good any one of them has done for Equestria. There are rich ponies who price gouge and who try to pay workers as little as possible. There are scammers, including two who tried to drive one of your heroines off her property. There are even criminals, otherwise there wouldn't be a police force or Royal Guard and dungeons in Canterlot. And the ancient pegasi were warriors; Commander Hurricane, in the pageants I mentioned earlier, always talks about conquest at some point; conquest means fighting, and that means killing."

Candy Corn was quiet for a moment. "Perhaps," she said at last, very reluctantly. "But yours is a society where violence and greed and destruction are everywhere!"

Jacques stopped and waved his hand to encompass the campus; everywhere, students were on their way to class, studying, hanging out and talking with one another, or stopping at the campus cafeteria to grab a bite to eat. "How is this 'violent, greedy, and destructive,' Miss Corn? All I see here are students and their professors doing as they ought to do on a college campus; pushing their knowledge to the limits in order to land a good-paying job, making friends for life, and finding new opportunities and points of view. There aren't many purely material things that could be less violent, greedy, or destructive."

To her credit, Candy Corn did look around, and took a moment to answer. "Well, maybe here is peaceful," she admitted at last. "But your world as a whole is messed up!"

"I won't deny it, ma'am. Ever since original sin, Creation has been in torment of one kind or another, and that won't end barring the return of the True King. But answer me this; when was the last time you heard a pony in Equestria say something like, 'I love taxes?' Or when did you last see or talk to a pony who didn't have some kind of issue in their life? And that is just in a nation - the only nation now on this Earth - that can control almost everything about itself, like the Running of the Leaves to make those same leaves fall off the trees, pegasi using clouds to make weather, and - prior to coming here - the rising and setting of it's own celestial bodies. When you don't have that ability - and we don't, or nothing practical, anyway - how much harder is life? You saw the reports of the most recent tornado down in Kansas; no human, or pony, for that matter, mixed something together and made it as a weapon; the weather patterns, the mixture of hot and cold air, they are what are responsible in a purely scientific sense. Or what about the hurricane that battered Galveston, Texas last year? Humans didn't do that. When one lives in a world that seems unpredictable and wild, how do you think that tempers one's character?"

Candy Corn was again silent; she may have been hard-headed at times, but lacking an intellectual thought process wasn't one of her faults, or not too often. At last, she said, "Sounds rough."

"It is, or can be, if you let it. That all provides a bit of context for the world we live in. I won't deny humans have done, and sadly still do, messed up things, nor does what I've said let us off the hook at all for those. But turning us into human-hating organic robots isn't the answer. Without free will, there can be no good or evil, no true love or hate, only a machine-like obedience without any real morality." He looked at his watch. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get to my next class. We can talk again another time."

As he walked away, he saw a young man, a young woman, and a blue pegasus stallion emerge from the Java City on campus together, the latter using his left wing to hold a cup of steaming coffee as he talked quite happily with them. Jacques smiled. Maybe there was indeed hope for humanity and ponykind yet.

Author's Note

*A reference to the Allied Supreme Commander in Red Alert 3.

**A Maine-French word, roughly equivalent to saying, "Aw, come on!" Said like the word "Mayo," but with a w and with a pronunciation at the end like the French "non." I never learned how to spell it, and I don't know anybody who does, so I spelled it as close as I could to the pronunciation, and left this note to explain further.

I didn't mean to make humanity perfect, nor to deny that some things are bad and still bad, if not getting worse. I did try to equalize the score by pointing out pony flaws and by pointing out that many humans are, in a material sense at least, trying to make the world a better place, even if not spiritually. Namely, I'm trying to fight the Negotiationsverse Equestrian propaganda, not prop up humanity too much.