Skyward Blaze watched, without any great emotion, as the human troops and a hoofful of Resistance members marched through the streets.

Everything felt hopeless. The war was lost, large numbers of ponies had died from starvation or from food riots preceding the city's fall as well as from enemy missiles. Entire towns and cities were reduced to rubble and ruin. Even now, smoke billowed out of a window from the palace. It hadn't been there earlier in the day, but the mystery just didn't seem to matter.

Upon the receipt of the surrender, flying above a few feet over the ground had been prohibited by the conquerors. A curfew had been established; any ponies who were homeless were allowed to take up residence wherever they could, but it was clear that anypony being on the streets after 9 PM was going to be arrested. Ponies wouldn't be allowed to leave the city, but food and water would be shipped in. How much of that would simply be stolen by the victors...

After the parade had passed by, ponies began to quietly leave. Other than a few hecklers, the whole thing had been peaceful, but tense. A few ponies were arrested for throwing rocks; maybe they would never be released, if the Newspapers and statements from the Palace had it right.

There was no future he could see. The glorious past, where Equestria was a land of magic, friendship and harmony that had lived in almost undisturbed peace, was at an end. If the invaders didn't kill all the ponies they saw, which they hadn't - yet - they were going to be heavy-handed. Equestria would be turned into a puppet state, with harmony and friendship as ponies knew it banned; human culture and violence would be forced upon it, as unwanted as rapine and murder.

Some ponies were committing suicide rather than accept this future; there didn't seem to be a street he walked by where somepony wasn't lying dead from some cause, whether at their own hooves or from enemy artillery fire, or from the collapse of buildings. In many cases, the population had little strength or emotion left to try to collect and bury the dead. Garbage, uncollected, was being flung through the streets by the breeze. The stench of death, destruction, and waste filled the air.

The heroic actions, the salvations from evil villains like Nightmare Moon, Discord, Chrysalis, and Tirek felt like they had occurred centuries ago rather than just a decade and a half or so. The entire country had been... broken. Shattered.

Blaze sighed with hopelessness as he walked toward Pony Joe's. It seemed dangerous to fly, and stocks of food had vanished during the siege, with starvation imminent. Joe wouldn't have anything to sell.

But it was one place that had survived the invasion. A place he had fond memories of, before and during the war. A place where he and his friends would gather for a good night's celebration over a hard day's work, or just meet to have a good time. It felt like one of the last physical places he could go to to remember the past, and feel any sense of hope.

Human soldiers patrolled the streets now. Some of them jabbered away to one another in unintelligible languages. Some of them ignored the ponies they saw. Some of them would glare with hatred at him as they passed, but did nothing other than continue to march. A few looked sympathetic, but that might have just been a trick of the eye.

Just eight years ago, while war had seemed possible, it was hard to believe. He had chosen to join a school exchange program, and until then it hadn't been so bad. He had found it difficult that most humans could do the kinds of things that Equestria had been subjected to.

It had been at some college in the American province - no, state - of Mane. No, Maine. He shook his head. Bleegh. Names.

He felt a chuckle rise within him, and did nothing to stop it. A tiny amusement in the ruined land... even that seemed big now, given the depression and desperation that had taken over Equestria ever since the loss of Princess Luna at Jerusalem. He wondered briefly if some depression-based equivalent of windigos had fallen upon the land.

The school exchange program had been... nice. Other ponies he had spoken with since had claimed that their experiences had been entirely negative; how much of that was true and how much fear of the ESS he wasn't sure.

Something within him felt like taking a trip down memory lane; Pony Joe's was some distance away anyway, and memories cost nothing other than time, and that was about all he had at this point.

Eight years ago, 2042, three years before the war

"-and as such, the Late Medieval Period and the Renaissance can't just be split by any one date - by any date, really," Professor Jacques Dubois was saying. "The traditional date of 1453 as a cutoff line is more based on historical events within that year, such as the end of the Hundred Years' War and the Fall of Constantinople to the Ottomans than to reality. What really happened, as with the Late Classical and Early Medieval Periods, was that the Late Medieval and Renaissance eras blended together. We can see early ideas that would define the Renaissance as early as the 1300's, perhaps even earlier. Likewise, feudalism, though it was breaking down at that point, was still strong enough so it was still a dominant system. The Commercial Revolution was in full swing in big cities, where a growing middle class was becoming more prominent. The nobility still saw them as commoners, but that middle class had enough money to be able to throw their weight around."

The professor paused. "In some ways, the change between the Medieval and Renaissance eras was hard to determine. Dirt poor peasants across Europe, for example, tended to notice little change, and since most peasants lived, worked, and died within a few miles of their home village, that's not surprising. On the other hand, within cities -particularly the largest and most wealthy - the change was much more noticeable. Art and recovered Classical Era works were becoming much more common, and indeed, painting and literature was improving over this period. Naturally, the influx of Greek philosophers into Italy after Constantinople fell accelerated the entire process."

He adjusted his glasses and looked at the clock. "Okay, time's up for class today. Just before you go, I want to remind you of the study group at the Java City on campus this evening at five. We'll be discussing major themes of this transitional period between the traditionally-defined Medieval Period and the Renaissance, along with other topics as students may choose to bring up. Tomorrow there will be a movie on Desiderius Erasmus in the E.B. White building in room 14, so if you can view that film and do an essay for extra credit in this class, you can, to be handed in this coming Monday."

Blaze got up from his desk, having written down what he could during the lecture.

"Hey Blaze."

Blaze turned to see Sunflower, a light yellow unicorn, finish packing her saddlebags.

"What's up?"

"Wanna go to Java city early? I could go for a cup of Jo right about now."

"Well, class is over for the day, so..."

"Hey, get your hooves off my marefriend," a green pegasus said, with false anger and bravado in his voice.

"Emerald, we've been over this," Sunflower said, doing her best to sound like she was exasperated while being unable to hold back a bright smile on her face. "I'm not your marefriend... yet. So leave poor Blaze alone."

"Poor Blaze?" the pegasus replied, a hoof to his chest as if he'd just been wounded. "I'm the one who you should be sorry for."

All three of them spent the next few seconds laughing their heads off.

"Finally, the monkey's finally done talking for the day," came a voice to his right.

"Aw, come on, Rocky," Emerald said to a large brown earth pony. "Why you always gotta be like that?"

"Because he's a human, and the Princesses tell us you can't trust 'em. Look how many wars they've fought, how many lives they've wasted. Also, the name's Rock Hard, not Rocky."

"And how many murderous humans have you run into on campus?" said a yellow pegasus from just above. "Give me one example."

"Hmph. Swift Wind, you're out of your mind if you think these apes can't turn violent on a dime."

"Sure, maybe some few of them," Swift replied. "But not all of them."

"Don't ever let up your guard," Rock Hard said. "They're all monsters waiting to happen, even the 'good' ones." He shifted his saddlebags and trotted out of the room.

By now, the room was entirely empty save for Blaze, Sunflower, Emerald, Swift, and Professor Dubois, who was looking on with an amused expression on his face.

"I suppose I ought to congratulate you two," he said, walking over slowly and gesturing to Sunflower and Emerald. "Anyone who says what you did in that voice is practically hitched already."

"Hey!" Sunflower exclaimed, raising her hooves in pretend anger as she sat back down. "We're not a couple yet, let alone husband and wife."

"I know, I'm just pulling your leg." Dubois took his glasses off and began to wipe them with a cloth. "Dust particles," he muttered.

"Hey Prof," Emerald began, "What'chu plannin' on talkin' bout at Java?"

"Well, if you're not satisfied with what I've said when class ended, I'm hoping to go a bit into the future from the medieval era and start discussing early Renaissance figures, like Filippo Brunelleschi and Michelangelo, as well as the societal and cultural shifts in Italy during that time." He finished wiping his glasses, replaced them on his face, and put the cloth away.

"I can't wait!" Sunflower said, eager. She'd always loved the history lessons, even though some of them featured dark stuff.

"I'll be there too," Blaze said. "Can't say where Rocky'll be."

"I believe his name is 'Rock Hard,'" Dubois said, with the kind of voice used by authority figures when they were kidding. "But I digress. I confess I feel disappointed that he feels the way he does."

"Don't worry about that big lug," Swift Wing said, floating in the air just below the ceiling. "He's always been rock-headed. I'm sure... I hope," she continued, hoof to her chin and pondering, "he'll turn around some day."

"May God grant it be so," the professor said, a hand momentarily on the left side of his chest.

"Don't say that 'round him," Emerald warned. "He's a Princess-worshipper to the core."

"Well, this is America," Dubois noted, "where everyone is allowed to have their own opinions and voice them. Well, provided it isn't either blatant fighting words or physical threats." He looked at all of them, smiling warmly. "I must say, you've all been doing well in your grades. Keep it up, and you might be taking my job within the next couple of years."

"Come off it, prof," Emerald said, raising a hoof in disbelief. "You know everything. What would they replace you for?"

"For one, only God knows everything. Secondly, I was worried they might replace me years ago for my various beliefs, back when the country was really divided on politics, so you can't say for 100% certain I'm not expendable to the college. Nonetheless, you have my thanks for the compliment. But know this, that all professors and men and women of knowledge have only built upon the shoulders of the giants who came before them."

"There were literal giants?" Emerald asked in earnest.

"He's being figurative, you goof," Sunflower said, lightly cuffing him on the ear with a hoof.

"Ow!" the pegasus said, in surprise rather than real pain.

"I hope your families are doing well back in Equestria," Dubois said.

"Yeah, my dad's mechanic business in Cloudsdale is doin' alright," Emerald replied.

"Mom's happy to get my letters," Sunflower said, though her smile slipped. "But... she doesn't like that I'm here instead of home. She's not too keen on humans, to put it lightly, and, well, she's worried about me being... well..."

"Violence or worse," the professor said, to which the unicorn nodded. "I promise that won't be happening to any student within my classroom if I have anything at all to say about it."

"Thanks, doc, but it's not gonna persuade my mom. Or my dad, come to that; he hates humans more than mom. He only agreed to let me come here provided I gave him a promise to reject human culture and technology."

"And all those things were recently made illegal in Equestria," Dubois said, frowning. "I don't like that. The internet's the easiest way to communicate between our worlds. Even the barrier doesn't stop it."

"Speaking of which, are you planning to...?"

"I will not be drinking the potion, if that's what you were going to say. I'm human, and will remain so to my dying day."

"But... how will you survive...?"

"I've been reading up on NASA. There's been talk recently of a program to build a colony on Mars by people who reject the potion utterly. I suppose if the barrier can't be stopped - may it not be so! - I'll be one of them."

"You mean, go to another planet entirely?" Blaze asked, eyes widening. "And leave everything, even the history, behind you?"

"Better than being turned into a human-hating organic automaton, if you ask me."

"The Princess has denounced those lies," Blaze said. "You don't have anything to fear."

"Even if I didn't, the problem of identity comes up. I fully intend on remaining human."

"Even with a history of death, nature being despoiled, and everything else?"

"Blaze, there's a lot more to humans than mere violence," Dubois said, looking concerned. "I would have thought that your European classes up to now would have proved that to you. Yes, there's great evil, and you can blame the entry of evil into creation on the devil, Adam, and Eve. But even so, by the grace of God, there's been good as well. In the time of the First World War, there was no penicillin. People died of disease without it. But after its discovery in 1928 by Alexander Flemming, death from disease dropped drastically. And things have been improving in other areas as well. A few decades ago, you had to wrestle with TV antennas just to get a clearer picture; now television shows and movies come through almost entirely uninhibited. And socially, things have improved as well. In the 1850s, slavery existed in America, and women couldn't vote. Both those things are untrue now; all people in the US have the same freedoms guaranteed by the Constitution, and women can't legally be paid less for the same job and hours as a man. There are charities, including the Salvation Army, Goodwill, and organizations dedicated to fighting disease and conditions, such as Saint Jude's. So while things may not be the sunshine and rainbows they may have been in Equestria, some things - not all, by any means - are improving."

"But... some of it still exists," Swift said. "You've admitted yourself to opposing gay marriage, and to different species marrying one another."

"I do oppose those things," the professor replied. "I believe that males should only marry females and vice versa, and I believe that each species was only ever meant to procreate after its own kind. But I do not hate those people who do those things or hold to the opposite opinion, nor I do not seek for our races to be unequal. I want humanity and ponykind to have a peaceful future between one another, with the barrier halted and with friendship - honest, built-in-time friendship - being our companion. I hope and pray that there may be peace between our peoples, but given the more and more tenuous relationship between us and Equestria... let's just say I'm worried for the future."

"Me too," Swift Wing said, frowning. "I can't say I want war. I, for one, have come to love Maine; forests as far as the eye can see in one direction, beautiful ocean in another. And the occasional moose sighting. Why would anypony want to destroy it?"

"But sadly there's no resting on clouds here," the professor noted.

"Well, yeah, that sucks," Swift said, frowning for a moment. "Pegasi can't rest on your clouds like they can at home. But so long as I have any strength in my wings, I can see a beautiful place to live."

"I hope Celestia ends up seeing that."

Oddly enough, that whole scene brought a momentary smile to his face. The past could be comforting.

However, that smile disappeared when he came within sight of Pony Joe's. Some human soldiers were hanging out around the building.

Lieutenant Dubois cautiously opened the door to the bar. It looked so much like an old diner, with the tiled floors, the tables, and the seats at the counter.

"Hello?" A tan unicorn stallion with gray hooves called from behind the counter.

"Ah, good, someone's still here. Is this your place?"

"Yep. Donut Joe, though friends call me Pony Joe."

"I'm surprised you're not yelling insult at me, or staring at me like you wish I'd burn," Jacques said, walking closer to the counter.

To his surprise, the unicorn frowned, but the anger in his eyes wasn't directed towards him. "I know we've been beaten. We should have given up the month before. We should have given up before the blood-suckin' leeches in the ESS took my best friend Millstone to who-knows-where; he never returned. I hate what's been done with this country ever since the war started, and not all of it is because of you guys."

"I suppose you don't have any donuts I could buy?"

"Nope. Been out for a couple months. Sorry, bud, wish I could, I could use any money right about now. In case ya hadn't noticed, the shop's not at 'er best."

"I noticed. Do you have anything?"

Pony Joe put a shod hoof to his chin. "I might have a few cocoa beans and some water, enough to make... ersatz coffee."

"I'll take it."

Pony Joe doffed his hat. "My thanks to ya, friend. That'll be.. well, 1 bit."

"My apologies, I only have US dollars."

"In that case, $0.99. I have a calculator to keep track. And bits have... become less valuable recently."

"You mean they lightly coat gold over copper or something?"

"Yep."

Jacques sat down on one of the stools at the counter and paid out $1.00. "Even chocolate-flavored water would be better than the water in my canteen. I can hardly drink it, warm as it is."

"Sorry, pal. Give me a minute to look around my storeroom, will ya?"

"Of course."

Jacques looked around at the place. Reminds me of the diner in Fallout 4, he thought. Of course, one could say that of a lot of the outer city.

Pony Joe came out a minute later, crushed the beans in his hooves, and began stirring them in a cup of water. The water turned brown quite fast.

"Here ya go."

"Thanks." Jacques sipped the cup, happy that the flavor wasn't all that bad. "Sorry about what our artillery did to this place."

"I don't blame ya, bud, or at least, not you personally. Celly should have surrendered after Colonel Blazehoof went down."

"Well, I..." Jacques trailed off. "Did you say Lieutenant Colonel Blazehoof?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm..." Jacques hummed, looking into the swirling brown in his cup.

"Why? What's up?"

"I... I think the 19th Maine National Guard may have had something to do with that," he said, fingers of his right hand brushing the badge of his unit.

July 1st, 2050

"Lieutenant, are they sure of that?" Sergeant Andrew "Andy" Carmichael asked, voice quiet.

"Qui," Jacques said, answering in French as he occasionally did. "An Equestrian force - their last major field army - is attempting to relieve the siege. And they're heading right for our regiment."

Both men were lying prone, with Jacques using binoculars to look for any signs of movement.

Andy let out some vile cuss words. "Sucks that we're the flank of the division... and the army."

"Oh, Andy, didn't you learn anything about Gettysburg?" Jacques asked, putting down the binoculars and turning to face him. "If Mainers can do anything, they can hold the flank of an army. And we have artillery and other fire support, not to mention the Thalmann Generators. It's not like the old days, where their Princesses could heat ray* entire battalions in moments. Their magic's almost no good, their spears are wildly out of date for the 21st Century, and their small arms are based on World War II weapons. If they try to break through us, we'll thrash them well enough. And we're well hidden, in these woods just outside the city."

"Well, that's true, sir, but I'd hate for them to pull some surprise out of their butts."

"Yeah, I'd hate that too," Jacques said. "They've done that a few times. They've even hurt us in this invasion, despite their magic being of little use. It took a few days to secure Manehatten, if you'll remember. But it really is only a matter of time, Andy. They don't have the numbers to hold us off when we break that shield, and we will. Even if this army got in, we could take the place; it would cost a bit more, but we'd take it."

"I'd hate to be one of the guys who bit it when it's almost over."

"Me too, Andy. Me too."

After a few minutes, the sergeant asked, "When did the intel say they'd be here?"

"Within a couple hours."

"Hate having to just lie here for that long."

"As do I, but-"

A loud, distant neighing from in front of them brought both men out of their thoughts. Jacques raised his binoculars and looked down the road.

At first, there wasn't anything to see; trees off in the distance, the road, leaves blown by the wind, things like that. But it was only a few seconds before the sun shone off of silver and gold armor.

Armed ponies, some from the army and some from what was left of the Royal Guard, were marching their way.

They were a sorry-looking lot, upon second inspection. Some had rifles and submachine guns; two that Jacques could see had modern rifles that they no doubt had captured from some obscure skirmish somewhere and modified for use by hooves. But most had spears, shields, and swords, and some crossbows. The armor of the Guards was mostly battered and suffered from other damage. The uniforms worn by some recently-recruited soldiers - or so he suspected, given that most military ponies up 'til now had worn armor - were ragged, and it was anyone's guess as to how some of them remained on. It was even more impressive that some of the battered ponies could march at all, let alone carry anything; some of the uniforms and armor stuck all-too closely to skeletal-looking bellies, and many of the ponies looked gaunt and haggard in general.

At their head was a bright orange earth pony stallion with bright yellow hooves. He was big for a pony; even the biggest stallions Jacques had seen were usually somewhat smaller than this. He bore golden armor, and a large sword was held in his right fetlock.

"What do you see?"

"They're here," Jacques said, ignoring the fact that Andy had forgotten to call him sir. "And a lot sooner than we expected."

Andy spent several more seconds swearing, with most of his curses being aimed at army intelligence. "How did they get here so fast?"

"I don't know. Maybe they masked their approach and used a decoy to fool us into thinking that they were farther away than they were. Maybe intel was unreliable. Maybe this is an entirely new force. I'll tell you one thing, Andy; I feel sorry for those ragged skeletons across from us. A flock of worn-out crows would stand a better chance of getting through to Canterlot than they do."

"But we're alone. A couple hours and we'd have plenty of troops to turn this place into a slaughter field."

"And who says that won't happen anyway? Get on the radio and get the boys ready."

Word got around very quickly; Jacques could see some of the trees move slightly as the men prepared for battle.

Poor rascals. Probably thought they could get in if they went around our flank. Might have been right, if they'd come a few hours sooner. Not that they'd do much good even if they succeeded.

The 19th Maine hadn't seen the most fighting of any unit during the invasion of Equestria; the better armed (sometimes spectacularly better armed and armored) troops of the main armies had done most of the work, especially those with laser and plasma rifles. Generals didn't think much of troops armed with second-rate gear, and certainly not of militia, even well-armed militia.

Of course, second rate gear was infinitely better than spears and swords in this day and age. Magic from any normal unicorn was almost a non-sequitur. And whatever the Maine National Guard might have been, unreliable in a fight wasn't something they could be accused of, not truthfully anyway.

Word came in to hold fire until the last possible moment. Jacques had to watch as the ponies came closer and closer.

One of the Guards next to the enemy's bright orange leader suddenly jerked his head, and turned to talk to him. The leader talked back. It was much too far away for Jacques to hear them, but he feared they might have seen something.

However, the orange stallion simply motioned with his sword towards the city, and the subordinate backed off.

Jacques raised his M-22, aiming carefully.

Firing suddenly broke out from the right; a number of ponies on (what was for them) the left side of the column keeled over.

Oh, for... "Fire! Fire!"

Rifle and machine gun fire broke out. By some dint of fortune, the orange pony was not hit, although several of the ponies around him were, and waving his sword, he hollered for his soldiers to advance.

More and more ponies broke out from the tree line, breaking formation in order to rush into the fight more quickly. Some - Jacques guessed the more experienced among them - went prone, firing whatever ranged weapons they had. Others charged ahead. A few - but only a few - broke and fled. Most continued the advance where they could.

The orange stallion suddenly jerked forward and lay flat on the ground, legs splayed in all directions. He was clearly dead. His head didn't explode, but Jacque could tell a corpse when he saw it. From the angle, the fatal shot hadn't come from his platoon, and probably not even from within this company.

Regardless of whoever fired the fatal shot, chaos broke out among the enemy. Some fled, but others, desperate, continued fighting; some charged ahead with little more than spears or swords. One or two had nothing but their hooves to fight with, but charged regardless. They were either cut down in minutes, or forced to go prone like their other comrades.

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeer- BOOM! A shell burst within the enemy ranks. Another fell, and another.... A storm of shot and shell.

Already in a losing position, and with their leader dead, most of the remaining ponies either went flat - dead or just lying prone - or fled, throwing away their weapons as they did. One of those who escaped was the pony who had been talking to the leader.

"Forward!"

Captain Reynolds' voice rang out; from where, Jacques didn't know. He raised himself up and began running across the field. Hundreds of men, the entire regiment, surged forward. Most just ran, as the ponies had run towards them moments ago. A few tried to crouch every few yards and look for targets, but it was very soon clear that the enemy had no more fight left in them. A loud cheer rose as the last few ponies who were not dead, wounded, or otherwise lying on the field disappeared into the opposite set of trees.

"Start taking prisoners!"

Along with the rest of the unit, Jacques began looking for living ponies to take alive.

Modern bullets did a lot of damage. Jacques winced at some of the wounds he saw. The enemies who had remained on the field rather than run had been brave, but in this day and age bravery needed to be tempered with caution and fire support. They had had neither at their disposal.

Presently, Jacques came up to the orange stallion who had been leading the group. He'd been shot in the back of the head, presumably from a company that had been off to an angle on the right of his platoon. At least his head wasn't in ruins; the morticians wouldn't have much of a problem putting him back together.

The name "Lieutenant Colonel Blazehoof" was embroidered on a badge on the front of his armor. His sword, useless, lay buried in the ground about half a foot in front of his head.

"Well I'll be," one of his men said. "We bagged a big one."

"That's wicked good," another said, rifle raised in one hand, barrel pointing to the sky.

"Did we stop them, sir," Andy asked, "or was this just the first wave?"

Jacques looked around the battlefield. Those ponies fortunate enough to have remained unwounded were being rounded up. A pegasus from the Resistance, saddlebags emblazed with the Red Cross, landed near one of the injured ponies, and began to administer aid. The moans and cries of the wounded rose from the battlefield.

"Corporal Hagan, take th-" Jacques looked around. "Where's Corporal Hagen?"

Another man, looking sullen, walked up to him. "Dead, sir. Crossbow bolt right between the eyes, under his helmet."

I suppose I underestimated what even medieval weapons can do. "Anyone else?"

The man thought for a second. "Thomas got shot in the left shoulder, and Wilkins got a bullet across his left facial cheek. I think they'll both live, though. I don't know the losses for other platoons of companies, sir."

"Hmm..." Jacques looked around again. "Gentlemen, I may be wrong, but I think I have doubts that another wave is coming. I think this was their last gasp. If those fellows don't surrender soon, no doubt they'll starve to death. And if they do come at us again, we'll give them the same treatment that we just gave them."

As the men gave contented growls - a few cheered - Jacques said, much more quietly, "Can't be long now."

"So, that's what happened," Pony Joe said, nodding slowly. "Poor guy. Gotta feel sorry for his boys, too."

"I certainly do, and did, but most of our army don't feel that way. Given the torment that Equestria's given the world these past five years, it's no wonder. If you'd seen what they did to New York City, or Berlin, or Rome or Mecca for that matter... Entire cities and their people, gone, and great monuments obliterated."

"I was told by somepony that the Crystal Cannon only wiped out the buildings, and ponified the humans there."

Jacques forced down the rage he felt. "I'll tell you what's left of seven million people and their cities, Mr. Joe; a sea of bright blue glass. That's all that's left of seven million people; fields of pure glass, an occasional crystalized statue on the edge of the whole thing, and echoes in the wind. Nothing else. They're all dead, no survivors. Every last building leveled to the ground in an instant. If it weren't for the glass, you wouldn't know a city had been in either of those places."

Pony Joe was stunned. "You can't be-"

"I'm dead serious, Mr. Joe. I've been to Rome myself after it was blown away. Nothing, nothing but seas of glass and melted hills. All that was left of the people, all that was left of Republican and Imperial glory of millennia ago... glass. Glass and blue crystals here and there, sprouting out of the ground as if they'd been planted there."

"I believe you," Pony Joe said, taking his hat off, still looking like someone had slammed him in the face with a sledgehammer. "I didn't realize... you mean..."

Jacques sighed. "I do. Sorry, Mr. Joe, I didn't mean to be-"

"Don't apologize. If anything, ponykind has more to apologize for than any human ever did. Seven million," he muttered, shaking his head. "No wonder you guys blew the Crystal Empire to oblivion."

"And that's just the Crystal Cannon. I don't know how many more people died from magic beams, speartips, swords and crossbows, not to mention people fried to nothing by that forever-cursed barrier and turned into brainless automatons only ever capable of doing what real ponies tell them to." Jacques leaned his elbow on the counter, his head resting in his hand. "Three billion... gone or just... gibbering, human-hating..." He sighed.

"I've seen Newfoals. Thought they seemed nice. But there was something wrong with 'em. They wouldn't take a dime from you unless you made 'em, and if you told them to do anything - even suggest something to 'em - they'd do it." Pony Joe's tongue came out in disgust. "Even the most disgusting and degrading things. Apparently, some of the nobles had Newfoals working for them. I thought they were paid servants, but knowing this now, they must have been modern-day serfs."

"You don't know the half of it. Have you ever seen someone, a loving mother perhaps, take the potion, and then, once she's turned, tells her children she hates them and that they're disgusting and that she never wants to see them again?" Jacques felt tears coming down his face, one landing in his cup. "I've seen it. Almost nothing aside from physical torture could be worse, sir. Almost nothing."

Both of them were quiet for some time. At last, not caring about the tear that had landed in it, Jacques drained the cup in one gulp. "Thanks, Mr. Joe."

"No worries, bud. And enough with the 'mister;' it's Pony Joe, or just regular old Joe'll do fine."

Skyward Blaze continued standing outside Pony Joe's, not sure whether to try to enter the building or to just leave. The humans kept looking in his direction, but they weren't shooting. Not yet, anyway.

He spent several moments staring at the sky. According to the Church of Harmony, the sky would turn an apocalyptic red and orange during the final battle, and the sun and moon momentarily darkened. The sky was still blue, and the sun - the sun of Earth - was the same color it had always been since they'd arrived on this planet.

His head drooped. Everything was out of balance. Everything had gone wrong. What reason was there...

A human soldier walked out of Pony Joe's. He tossed a cup he was carrying into a trash can and began talking to one of the men. "Andy, what the situation? Anything happen in the past fifteen minutes or so?"

"No, sir. Just an orange pegasus, right over there, came over here and... well, he's just sitting there."

Blaze lifted up his head. The first voice... it sounds so familiar...

At the same time, the soldier who had emerged from the shop looked at him. There was a long moment in which nothing was said.

At last, the man said, "Skyward Blaze? Is that you?"

Blaze stood up. "How do you know my name?"

"I ought to know it; I taught you back in college, seven or eight years ago."

Blaze's mind went back to his college days. Of course that voice sounded familiar.

"Pro-professor Dubois?"

The man smiled, joy and sadness warring in his face. "It's Lieutenant Dubois now, but yes." He walked over to Blaze, until he was just a few feet away. "It's good to see one of my old students again."

Author's Note

*Deliberate reference to The War of the Worlds.

I also realize that the ending may sound really creepy. I swear, that's not my intention.