You may delay, but time will not.

Hours.

Someone less perceptive would’ve been easily distracted by his flavor of speaking.

There were three needles within a haystack of half-truths, lies of omission, and missing details. Any useful information was then further diluted by almost intentionally archaic or foolish wording, an unrelated tangent about something utterly inane, or a loosely strung together stream of slurred insults and crude vulgarity.

A less perceptive person would’ve thought it to be genuine. Be it foolishness or stubbornness - but in truth, it was an act. A jester’s mask that he held over his face to obfuscate his true intentions - so while a less perceptive person would say in response to his story, “You’ve told me nothing,” they would be right - but they would be asking the wrong question.

No. There was one question that needed to be asked.

“Why?”

Frost arched an eyebrow. “Why?” His stance shifted. Paw on his hip, eyes slightly narrowed, lips curled back into a snarl.

“You’re telling me this. Why? The relevance of your tale aside, your motives aren’t just vague - they’re seemingly nonexistent.”

Frost snorted. “You’ll find that my motives are consistent. Consistent to a fault, even.” And then there was a blur, and Frost’s fingers curled around Celestia’s throat - claw digging lightly into her chin. She winced and reared back instinctively, but Frost squeezed tighter.

“There is only one thing that I want, Celestia. And I will kill you, and everyone who you have ever known or has known you if that means it will become a reality. I want my mother dead.”

“Your - tale. She was already-” Celestia grunted, then very promptly teleported herself out of Frost’s grip. Frost growled and crossed his arms as he sat down on a tree-stump formed of ice. “-dead.”

Frost rolled his eyes. “That was Gilgamesh’s mother. She was a toy that danced to the whims of things she couldn’t comprehend, and paid the price for it. Those little excerpts I told you - those were the equivalent of throwing rocks and sticks at each other after she burned up all of her horrors. That - thing that followed you. The Iampex - she created it. And there are bigger fish that she had.”

Celestia placed that in the back of her mind, and tried to steel herself as she imagined facing off against something larger than that. “Bigger fish.” she weakly asked - although it came off more like a statement.

“Like the Scourge - no. That’s not the point. The point is, that I have one mother, and I want her dead. She is the antithesis to everything. Where there is anything, she stands as its opposite - and to me, there is nothing more disgusting. Whatever you want to call her - her truest face is the face of desolation, and it is putrid.”

“And Twilight?” Celestia whispered as she slowly dragged her hoof through her filly’s mane, pretending as if the sheer vitriol in Frost’s tone didn’t unnerve her - and pretending as if there might be less of a distinction between Frost and his mother as he might like to think.

“A weapon. Ponies dick around with spells, the Deer dicked around with magic - but the Vulcines and the Qui dicked around with the universe. The Vulcines finished what the Qui started oh-so-long ago, so long ago that I barely remember it. The Qui made the universe bleed, while the Vulcines started shaping it. That’s what Twilight is - a little slice of that. Of hell.”

Celestia shut her eyes and let out a long, deep sigh as she pretended as if he hadn’t provided more useful information in the span of a few minutes than he had in the entirety of his rant.

“And the relevance of the story about the Deer?”

“Perspective.”

“On?” Celestia tilted her head to the side.

“Your sister.” He arched an eyebrow.

Celestia said nothing as the temperature rose.

Frost grinned slightly. “Or are you still lying to yourself, and saying that she’s possessed?”

“Don’t you dare. She wouldn’t-”

“She would. You have no idea what someone can be pushed to. Your sister saw them for the briefest of moments - She-Who-Ruled served them for years. My mother fought the Things at the Edge for an æternity.”
“Please,” Celestia murmured weakly as she felt the centuries weigh down more heavily on her than usual, “the point.”

“The point is - that fixing your sister might make for good practice before killing my mother.”

And lo, there was a moment of silence broken only by the whirling of the arctic wind around them - a veritable storm of powdered snow and frost. Not even a breath or a heartbeat was taken during this silence, a silence that lasted the briefest of instants but dragged on for a thousand and one nights in Celestia’s mind.

“I have terms,” she whispered.

“Of course you do,” he grinned wolfishly.

Days.

There was a common misconception that teleportation was instant. The truth was that it was just sort of instant.

The time between entering and exiting a teleport was so infinitesimal that it could hardly be said to exist at all. Teleporting over a greater distance leads the fibers of teleportation to be subjected to a greater degree of external interference, resulting in up to seconds or even a minute between entry and exit.

It was part of what made unicorns, and other ley-casters so dangerous. Teleportation was impossible to predict visually, and relied solely on probability or psychoanalytic skill to respond to it. While teleports could be dispelled before the entry, the only creatures that possessed the ability to actually interfere with the spell while it was ongoing were the Children.

And yet, as Celestia exited her teleport, she found Frost’s blade already sailing towards her neck.

It wasn’t the first time that he had done this, and it undoubtedly wouldn’t be the last. She couldn’t tell if he possessed either a great deal of luck or knowledge of her psyche - a thought that made her shudder - or was just simply that fast.

There were few creatures that Celestia truly detested, and while Frost was among the highest on that list - a monster in his own right - she had to give credit where credit was due. He was skilled.

Worryingly so. With every nick of his blade against her fur, every time he threw her onto her rump, every time he proclaimed “dead” as he held her in what would be a fatal position if that had been a true fight - she was less certain of her own capability to dispose of him that had given her confidence before.

Flying was less of an advantage than one might have thought. Despite his name, only a fraction of the magic he used was actually ice magic - most of it was actually more under the school of gravity magic. He changed density and the gravitational constant almost every second - making his opponents sluggish and unable to so much as flap their wings, forcing them to either die - or rely on teleportation, if they were so capable.

Then, there was the advantage that he fought without any regard for his safety. While a regular combatant would be debilitated by a stab through the stomach or a lost limb, Frost had no such restriction.

Regardless, it wasn’t as if Celestia possessed the capability to fight here with her full power. Their agreed sparring matches were purely skill-based -under more favorable circumstances - all of Frost’s skill wouldn’t quite matter in the face of the heat of the sun. Even he couldn’t move without muscle, as far as Celestia had seen - and from there it was just a matter of...tossing him in the ocean, or a volcano. Probably a volcano.

Celestia exited another teleport, but this time had left the Glaive of the Sun behind. The blade whipped across Frost’s face - but he leaned into the blade as he spun around and held his greatsword right to Celestia’s throat.

“Dead.”

Celestia grunted and stepped backwards even as her wounds began slowly stitching themselves together. She winced as she heard a rapid series of clicks, watching Frost’s grotesquely contorted body snap back into full health.

“Again,” Frost grunted.

Celestia hadn’t really hid her distaste from Frost. She was working with him out of necessity - he had knowledge and skill, and while they were tumultuous allies, the terms of their agreement left him essentially leashed.

No killing ponies without Celestia’s express, verbal permission while she was of sane mind. No one on one contact with Twilight - the idea of him poisoning her little star’s mind was as terrifying as the idea of Discord getting loose.

In exchange, Frost would provide knowledge, martial training for Celestia, and a rather heavy influence on Twilight’s curriculum. It was something that Celestia wasn’t exactly fond of - but while she held most of the cards, he still held a few. He knew the finer details of the Nightmare’s plans, knew magic that Celestia herself could barely comprehend, knew details about the universe, about Twilight…

The short of it was that for the time being, they were in a mutually beneficial alliance. And neither of them had to like the other for it to continue.

“So, Celestia - I’ve been thinking. When do we get to my terms of service? I mean, if you’re giving them out that is - considering someone as volatile as Frost got one, I’m certain you and I could work something out. I punt the monster into orbit, act as your butler for a few hundred years, then go off into the vast cosmos and never see you again?”

“Hello, Discord. I see you’ve kept yourself up to date.”

“Oh, how could I not? If you ignore the volatile mass-murderer sociopath part, then Frost is the creature most deserving the title of Spirit of Chaos other than moi. He’s a constant boiling cauldron of disharmony - I’m practically glutted out. I must confess though, I never saw the two of you coming.”

Celestia looked to the side, but didn’t say anything.

“Hm. I haven’t felt that flavor from you since - me...aah! That explains it. You’re - afraid, aren’t you, hmm? Afraid that you couldn’t control him if you weren’t working with him? Adorable.”

“There are many things I fear, Discord. You will find no source of shame from this.”

“Are you afraid of the helion, Celestia?”

There was silence for a minute.

“Hm? Draconequus got your tongue?”

“Are you afraid of her, Discord?”

She could practically hear the draconequus reeling backwards. “...I’m sorry, did you ask me if I was afraid?”

“Are you?”

“I’m a god, Celestia. I can count the number of things I’m afraid of on a single claw, and-”

“She was made to kill your sister. The Eldest. And if she could do that, then she could kill you. Is your frantic need to state your desire to see my daughter dead based off fear?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice was a low snarl. Celestia might’ve been afraid, if it wasn’t for his stone cage.

“You’re afraid of her. And yet - you saved her. You said it wasn’t for me, it most certainly wasn’t for her - so who was it? There were only three other fillies there.”

“Shut up.”

“Have I struck a nerve, Discord? Was it - Fluttershy?”

“I said shut up.”

Another beat of silence.

“...I’m sorry. That wasn't fair of me. I shouldn’t...take out my frustrations on you.”

More silence.

“...Goodnight, Discord.”

“Goodnight, Celestia.”

Weeks.

Alicorns were ponies.

They were deities, sure. A literal piece of their soul had ascended and granted them agelessness, an impossible degree of power, and the capability to hold both that power and knowledge.

And yet - on a fundamental level, they were ponies. Their diet and their instinct remained the same, changed through divinity only by the virtue of experiencing more. And so, even with as much as Celestia had experienced - there was still a little jolt of fear she felt within her heart as she woke up to see Twilight’s cavernous, toothy mouth slightly parted as she stared at her in her sleep.

It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and undoubtedly not the last. Occasionally, no matter what bed Celestia put Twilight in - she always woke up to the filly right by her side, usually staring at her. With the faint ebb of Frost’s presence in her life - even though most of his time was spent in restricted, closed-off caverns - it had only become more frequent.

Celestia let out a soft sigh and collected herself, before resting her head right into her filly’s neck - pulling a wing up and curling it around her.

“Good morning, Twilight.”

“Good...morn-ing, Celestia.” She whispered.

“Did you sleep?”

Twilight shook her head.

Celestia frowned lightly. “Why not?”

Twilight shrugged. “Like - watching...you - breathe.”

Celestia paused for a moment, before deciding to internally dictate that it was cute instead of mildly unnerving, if only for the sake of her own sanity. “Did you eat?”

Twilight nodded and gestured with a hoof. Celestia glanced over, and felt her heart skip a beat as she saw a pile of half-eaten dead birds unceremoniously deposited by her bed.

“...Twilight?”

“Yes - Celestia?” The filly nuzzled up closer to her.

“May I ask - why are they in my room?’

Twilight stared at Celestia, as if it was obvious. “Because...I love - you?”

Celestia smiled weakly, even as she prepared an incineration spell. “I love you too, my little star.”

When Celestia and Luna were young - or, relatively young, they often theorized on the nature of the Canterhorn.

It stood as a giant peak, arguably in the center of the nation. While the mountain sloped down, it was unaccompanied by the presence of other slightly mountainous structures that you might expect - and it towered nearly as tall as Olympus did.

It’s true nature was discovered as excavations began. Rich deposits of menrillium, or colloquially, mithril that would later serve as the foundations for the city of Canterlot - coupled with vibrant crystals that served as arcane semiconductors lead to a heavy allure to mining for the sisters.

And as the excavations continued under their directions, caverns being mapped - Luna noticed patterns - patterns consistent with the vascular system of a dragon.

The ensuing panic quickly ended as the two verified that the dragon was very dead.

They never found out how it got there. The Canterhorn was just the skull of the petrified dragon, the rest of its body having molded so perfectly into the ground that for all intents and purposes, it was indistinguishable from the ground below.

Now, though, the caves lay abandoned. The majority of their resources had been excavated, and were only used by people with something to hide.

Celestia stepped hoof into one particular cavern and cleared her throat. There was a grunt before Frost’s form rose up from the small “enclosure” he had been given, per their deal. The walls were covered in a thick sheet of ice, the floor heavy with snow so dense that Celestia didn’t even sink into it - serving more like a carpet than actual snow, and a pile of...things.

“How do you kill a god, Celestia?” Frost squatted down before pouncing, much like a cat, into his pile of things. He dove in and began shoveling heaping handfuls of weapons, coins, papers, and books out.

Celestia tilted her head to the side. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

“No. It’s a trick question. The answer depends on which word you place emphasis on. I’ll spare you the tripe - you have no idea how many times I’ve gone through this cycle, Celestia. My mother escapes, then destroys things. Thousands die to lock her away for the blink of an eye - she escapes, destroys more things.

Everything you can think of, I’ve tried. You can’t beat her with brute force, you can’t beat her with skill, you can’t beat her with trickery. She’s stronger and faster than you, smarter than you, and it doesn’t matter how well you pull one over on her - she’ll notice, then she’ll kill you and your entire planet.”

“And she’s gone through the whole thing so many times it’s like routine for her. She’s indifferent - barely raises a hand and still kills everyone in the room waiting to throw her back in the slammer and makes me watch. There are three times she’s been anything other than indifferent, Celestia.”

“One time, she was betrayed by one of her archons. She very much didn’t like that, Celestia. She made sure the betrayer liked it even less. Another time, she was locked in a single instance of time by a mage. And when she inevitably broke out - well...somewhere out in the universe, there’s a screaming, weeping, deathless puddle of flesh that was once called The Prophet of Arcadia.” Frost paused for a moment.

“You’re drawing emphasis on the third time.”

“Good. You caught it. The third time - and the only time I’ve ever seen her angry, Celestia,” and Frost pulled out a book from his pile of things. A book that Celestia recognized - clad in white scales -

Frost held up The Conqueror’s Penance. “Was when it involved dragons.”

“Do you know where magic comes from, Twilight?”

It was cold here. The world was laid bare before them - swirling ice and snow, an aurora of colored shafts - variegation of impossible shades - pulled over the sky like a curtain. It would be cruel to bring a filly here even with protection from the elements - yet Twilight didn’t seem the least bit phased, as was much expected from some of Frost’s descriptions of her expected capabilities.

While Frost had been stingy with the details of exactly how Twilight had been created - it involved an absurd amount of magic. While magic was nearly impossible to measure in exact terms, especially in subcosmic quantities - Frost’s rather lurid descriptors implied that the equivalent of over twenty of her manapools were channeled simultaneously to create her.

Or, as another way of looking at it - one of her mana pools for every primary element, two more for the two fundamental elements, plus an additional six for both of the major elements.

If it had been perfectly balanced - as Frost intended - then, in all likelihood, the true moon wouldn’t have shattered. Instead - there was a slight imbalance - a little bit too much magic in two categories that Frost hadn’t yet narrowed down, making Twilight - well, Twilight.

The short of it was that Frost had some idea of what Twilight could maybe be capable of - regeneration, resistance to harm, immunity to most external conditions, absurd magical capacity and senses, et cetera.

Twilight whined and scratched at the floor with her hoof. “Does...it - matter?”

Celestia frowned lightly. “I understand you don’t like theoretical lessons, Twilight - but I think that practical lessons are..holding you back. You have an instinctive grasp on magic to such a degree greater than mine - than any - that it would be better for me to teach you the very fundamental, abstract basics - and for you to go find more practical applications from there.”

Twilight was silent for a moment before she blushed very lightly at the praise. She tilted her head and seemingly thought for a moment, before she answered. “From - this.” She prodded her own hoof against the center of her chest.

Celestia tilted her head to the side. “Do you mean that it comes from within?”

Twilight thought for a second as she searched for the word. “Your - soul.”

Celestia smiled warmly. “You’re partially correct, Twilight. Your soul does store magic - but do you know where it pulls magic from?”

Twilight made a wide sweeping gesture. “Everything.”

Celestia nodded. “That’s mostly correct, again. It comes from the Thaumosphere, which encompasses everything.”

“Encomp...asses.” Twilight slowly nodded.

“The Sun produces raw mana. That mana travels on what we call solar wind.” She gestured a hoof out and towards the Northern Lights that were faintly visible as they shimmered behind Twilight. “Those lights - here, the solar wind hits the hardest, which is why it’s visible. It strikes against the Thaumosphere, and is pulled down by the Pull of the leylines. Do you know what that is?”

Twilight looked around. “Not...al-ways...visible?”

“...Are you always able to see it, my little star?”

Twilight nodded.

Celestia let out a soft noise that was somewhere between a gasp of shock and a huh, as the more analytical half of her raced towards all the practical applications of being able to see magic - while the more motherly part of her began thinking about how overwhelming it must be. Celestia slowly shifted down and pressed her primary feathers against the nape of Twilight’s neck.

“Does it overwhelm you at times?” She whispered very, very softly.

Twilight looked down for a minute. “...did. Didn’t. Did. Didn’t. Does.”

Celestia frowned and rested her head against hers for a few long moments. “Is there anything that I can do to help you, my love? Do you want me to use less magic around you?”

Twilight shook her head vehemently. “N-no. Please. Your - magic...is warm. Nice.”

The two sat like that for a moment - Celestia cradling her filly tightly in her forelegs, before with a few insistent affirmations from Twilight the lesson continued.

“There are two major leylines, the Vis Maguae and the Vis Minuae.

From the Outer Beyond, greater leylines travel across stars like electrodes - where the stars then emit out a spray of solar wind, often striking nearby planets.

There are a massive subset of smaller leylines, called capillary leylines - that provide magic to the world at large, but all branch off from the two major leylines. The Polar North is where the core of magic at the center of the planet juts out the furthest, and it's where the Minuae travels down to the Southeast. The Minuae has a higher amount of capillary leylines, and connects back around to the planet's magical core - bringing along the recycled mana that beings release as they die.

The Minuae is the major participating conduit in the magic cycle. Stars produce mana, travel along greater leylines, strike the Minuae - which keeps it almost perfectly recycled through its journey around the world.

The Maguae rises up at the polar south, where the greater leylines strike the world - bringing in new magic, keeping the magical core at full capacity.

Right now, we’re at the Polar North, where the Minuae dives down towards the core below.”

Celestia stepped backwards. “So. That’s your lesson.” Twilight looked up at Celestia. “I want you to make a physical manifestation of that model. Take as much time as you want.”

Twilight nodded slowly.

“..and - as a gift -” Celestia was silent for a second as she turned her head to the side - before she let out a soft sigh, and pulled a book - clad in white scales, adorned by a blinking, reptilian eye...

“I’ll give you this book.”

She held The Conqueror’s Penance Volume I: Soul in her telekinetic grasp. Twilight licked her lips.

“Um. Twilight? How much - longer do I have to stay still?”

“More.” Twilight grunted as she precariously balanced yet another plank of wood on Fluttershy’s back.

“...it’s - longer. Not more. Um. Grammatically.” Fluttershy said very, very softly.

Twilight flashed her a look. “Need - model. But it doesn’t...make - sense.”

Fluttershy let out a soft whine. “Twilight, um. My - back is starting to hurt. C-can...can we please stop?”

Twilight frowned deeply.

“Please?”

Twilight let out a soft noise before unceremoniously pulling the apparatus from Fluttershy’s back - a connection of layered planks with rocks and string dangling from their edges, representing a crude astrological model - using magically frozen string to represent the mostly static greater leylines.

Fluttershy eeped before fluttering slightly off the ground and down onto a stump. She was silent for a little bit as she watched Twilight fume and pace in silence.

“...um. Maybe...if you - explained to me what was wrong...then I could...help?”

Twilight was silent for a second. She then let out a deep sigh, rolling over onto her back and placing her head against Fluttershy’s lap.

“Model - easy. Leylines - easy. Problem - where...it comes - from. Problem t-two - where it goes.”

“What do you mean?” Fluttershy blinked and looked down at her.

“String has to start somewhere and end somewhere. Can’t figure it out.”

“Oh.” Fluttershy looked down. “Um...so - you’re...saying...you don’t know where magic comes from...and where it ends? D-does magic end?”

Twilight proceeded to give a fairly aggressive shrug. “Ponies - don’t know.”

“Well...if ponies don’t know, then that means Celestia doesn’t know. So you don’t have to put it on the model?”

Twilight shook her head. “Not - the problem. I want to know.”

“Oh. So - you’re just...curious?”

Twilight nodded aggressively before rolling over and burying her face into Fluttershy’s side.

“...well...maybe...it doesn’t end? It just...loops back around, infinitely.”

“Then - starts?”

“Um. The...same?”

Twilight shook her head and waved a hoof. “Can’t - work. Merlin’s Measure. Would mean - no magic.”

Fluttershy smiled as she pretended to know what that was before nodding. “Oh. Yes. Right.” She slowly hid behind a tuft of her hair. “...um...maybe…you don’t know when it starts...because you can’t see where it starts?”

Twilight looked up at Fluttershy slowly.

“Um...like…” She fell silent. “...you’re right. That wouldn’t work. Um. Merlin’s...Measure.”

Twilight grinned widely.

“Sorry, sugarcube. Run that by me one more time?”

“Down - to the crystals. Need - rocks.”

“Um. Flutters?”

Fluttershy leaned her head up slightly, poking out of her mane much like a turtle. “She wants to go to the crystal caves to get metal.”

“Really, Twi? T’princess said to go all the way down there?”

Twilight turned her head to the side.

Applejack arched an eyebrow. “Tell me what’cha need the metal for.”

“...project. Need - to make...model. Impress Celestia.”

“Y’could’ve just said that. We’re not going to those caves. That’s a surefire way to get us killed. Well, um.” She thought for a second. “To get me killed. Cause - y’know.” She gestured generally at Twilight.

Twilight blinked unevenly, one eye before the other.

“...right. Cmon. Rares’ dad is in charge of the Royal Blast Furnace. I’m sure he can help you with what’cha need.”

“No. No - adults. Need...secret.” In a slightly clumsy display to make a sh motion, Twilight slapped a hoof against her face.

Applejack rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry darling, you want - what?” Rarity glanced up from her book as she lounged within her room rather elegantly.

Twilight frantically gestured at Fluttershy, who promptly cleared her throat and stepped forward. “S-she...wants you to convince your dad,” she gestured at Rarity, “to let her use the...um…”

“Blast Furnace.” Applejack piped up.

“...yes. That.” Fluttershy agreed, and found her interest in a spot on the floor.

Rarity arched an eyebrow. “And - for whatever reason would you want that?”

“The short of it is that she wants to make some project. Needs a lotta metal for that. And the Royal Blast Furnace has a lot of it, right?”

Rarity huffed lightly. “Well - I suppose so. But I’m honestly not sure why you’re asking me, and not my father.”

“Twilight wants to surprise the Princess. Doesn’t want to tell her her...plan. Hasn’t even told us her plan, outside’a needing metal.”

“And - you.” She pointed at Rarity. “To make - it...pretty. Like - you.”

Rarity blushed lightly and threw her mane over her shoulder. “...Well...I suppose I could lend a hoof or two. As long as it’s not too much metal - I don’t want to mess up anything my dad is working on. And we’re not taking it straight from the Blast Furnace - that’ll make it useless, and will most certainly cause issues. We can just take it from one of their caches.” She crossed her forelegs and rolled her eyes.

“Good luck Twilight.” Rarity smiled and gently placed a hoof on her back, shivering lightly as she felt her fur to be freezing cold.

“Yeah. The princess will find this...um...Thingamajig impressive. I. Um. Think?” Applejack then grunted as Rarity prodded her side.

Fluttershy slowly poked her head up. “Um. I don’t - think any of us really understand what it is...but...it certainly looks impressive. I...I would say - good luck...but...you don’t - need it.” She smiled warmly. “...but...good luck. Still. Just in case.”

“...thank you...Rarity. Applejack. Fluttershy.” Twilight was silent for a moment. “Friends.”

“Twilight?”

“Y-yes...Celestia?”

Celestia slowly circled the - thing with an unreadable expression.

Twilight’s issue came from one major source. She was trying to represent a scale of the magic cycle on a third dimensional model. Something commonly done - but to Twilight, who had the ability to see magic...it didn’t match up with observation.

There was a bombardment of charged magical particles that a purely third-dimensional model simply didn’t explain. With a third dimensional model, such particles should only be found at the north and south - no, it could only really be accurately represented on a higher dimensional model.

Curved plates of ornate, inlaid metal - made painstakingly with Rarity and Fluttershy’s direction and the marelabor of Twilight and Applejack - spinning around an anchored point of stabilized magic focused through a crystal that somewhat crudely represented the sun. The plates of metal represented the seven known planets - although Twilight rather promptly found that the model worked better with eight rather than seven.

That was only the third dimensional aspect of the model. The fourth-dimensional aspect - visible mostly only to Twilight, but Celestia was able to catch glimpses of it with her magical sight - was the magic side of it. The leylines were less of a string, travelling from the sun from one planet to another - and more of a crack.

And the sun was on the center of that crack.

To put it another way - the sun didn’t transmit magic. The sun was made because of a magical presence - the magical presence wasn’t here because of the sun. Which lead to a small amount of the crack entering the Thaumosphere - leading to a consistent bombardment of magical particles, which in turn allowed magic to be existent in areas without a leyline.

Celestia had many words. A thousand, thousand different combinations of words - but all with the same overarching message. And as her mind raced, she narrowed those words down to just four.

“You’re a brilliant filly.”

The Conqueror’s Penance popped into existence with a flash of energy.

Years.

Her eyes shut, and there was blood.

Blood trickled down the stone steps slowly. Each rivulet drip, drip dripping like a rainfall - a beautiful shade of pink instead of the harsh red of most equine blood. It came down in thick, heavy streams that pooled up at the hooves of a blur of colors - a somber dulled pink, a burnt and mutilated orange, a regretful white, a horribly vindicated blue -

And Lavender.

His blade dug deeper into her heart as its beats slowed. The Deity stood with a battalion of Chosen - a devil, a deer, a drake, a demon, a duplicate.

And every inch of his blade drove into her heart, pushing down into the cold stone - as she gasped her last.

“Please.”

And then her eyes closed yet again.

Eternities.

The universe was dead.

Worlds had been burned away by flames or ground against each other for some form of sick amusement. Arcing streams of lightning tore through the universe in an attempt to draw out the last survivors - the last people who she was hunting in her effort to punish a universe she considered to be utterly truthful.

She is a monster. Her truest nature is that - a monster.

They reasoned that they were immortal, even as their sisters’ dying laughs echoed in their ears. They reasoned that their physical forms might be vulnerable - but they were *beyond* that. And surely, if push came to shove - their coupled power would be enough to eradicate her.

That's what they said. In reality - it was fear and cowardice. They wondered if it was the truth - she had defied expectation and logic before, and they didn't want to test if she could do it again.

And then she ate Death.

Void was next - hunted and gutted inside of his own realm. Conquest was pulled into a string of his component atoms that she drank up greedily, pulling War limb from screaming limb.

Ever the brave one, Justice took a stand, only for her wings to be pulled from her back as her body was cast into the center of a black hole.

And then there was one. A thousand names - he was Chaos, she was Eris, they were Yog-Sabbath, the Screaming Chaos, and every other title under the stars. He was Discord.

But he was tired. An entire year of fleeing, running, hiding while he waited for the inevitable. He regularly performed the impossible - curving space and creating wormholes, folding reality and creating a million simultaneous illusions and pocket dimensions. Shaping and curving time, time dilating her to distract her - it was something that no other mage would have been able to do. None had the power, none had the skill.

And yet, She tore through these like butter. He’d spend an hour to give her a minute’s pause - the Shepherd of the flow of magic, a primordial force that was born from the beating heart of the Queen itself...and yet, she was something else entirely. In a league far beyond his own. Carved from that same scrap of Primordia that the Queen herself was forged from.

But he was done running. He was dying, regardless - the universe was a dead, rotting black wasteland. He was done hiding. He wasn't able to take her head-on. He wasn't able to run from her. So he might as well go out with a bang - and piss her off as much as possible with that bang.

Discord touched down to the surface of the planet he was near. He panted, kneeling and dropping onto all fours. He shut his eyes, basking in the blissful, blissful silence. No doubt the last time there would be silence for him.

And then his world erupted. For the first time in a long while, primal fear tore itself into Discord’s heart, icy shards digging into his chest. He threw himself backwards - but it was too late. The spell impacted a few feet in front of him. It erupted with a tremendous force, throwing rock shrapnel and dust into the air. Discord barely clung onto his life, his body mangled and almost completely broken from a single spell alone. This wasn't what surprised Discord, let alone made him afraid - what had done that was the fact that she had been able to do this without so much as entering his magical detection.

She cleared the distance in an instant, slamming down into the ground and spreading her tremendous lavender wings. She stood up, and he saw her.

She was beautiful. Her eyes were pure white beacons of magic - her hair short and flat, every single strand in order. Her horn was an immaculate spear that pierced the heavens - but she was terrible. Her thousand eyes were unblinking, her shifting and writhing mass impossible to comprehend. Dried blood decorated her face, her coat. There was no faint humanity or curiosity within her eyes - no desire for peace, for relaxation, for warmth, for love. There was only one thing - and it was Truth.

Discord looked up at her as he reformed. His tongue wiggled around experimentally before he grinned. "Hello, Monst-"

She gave him no refuge. Discord was only able to glimpse the spell she wove. It removed the air molecules in between them - removing the effect of the atmosphere and allowing her to break the light barrier. She was in-front of him, her claws swinging towards his face. Discord masked his fear with his magic and caught onto her claws with two of his own, keeping it trapped in a magical hold. She imbued her claw with more force, throwing Discord backwards a little bit. He kept tight hold onto her claw though - feeling the bones crack and reform repeatedly.

"Rude." He murmured. "But you've always been a rude one, I suppose."

She didn't take too kindly to his taunt. Discord’s chest felt warm. His heart pounded as he realized it had taken her less than twenty seconds to find a way past his defenses. He quickly threw his magic into canceling the imminent explosion inside of his chest - before he blinked. There was no explosion spell inside of his chest, despite how the warmth had signified that. His eyes widened as he realized it had merely been a distraction, and held up one of his paws in frontof his face just in time to catch her sword. It plunged through his hand and pressed into his skull slightly. If it pierced the brain - it was game over.

"Pretending to be anything but a monster."

Discord threw himself backwards and created an explosion of force between them. She slid backwards among the ground, spreading her wings and beating them once, twice to cause the force to dissipate. She teleported a distance behind him so fast that he felt reminded of his sister, for a moment.

Her eyes opened. Portals opened up in them, and four bolts of magic were launched at Discord. Discord caught one with his mouth and crushed it as it turned into a jawbreaker. He caught two with his hands, which turned into snowballs that he threw back at her with violent force. The last one impacted a good distance behind him. He could feel the heat of the explosion wash over him.

“You played it well. I never believed you. But Celestia did, didn’t she?”

She blinked. That was the only response she had given him so far. Then her eyes opened - and the stars began to glow, before the stars opened. Oceans of blood began pouring from the now bleeding stars - hurtling towards the planet as they froze in the dead of space, creating an unfathomable amount of projectiles. Discord’s eyes widened. He couldn't leave the planet without her canceling the teleport and leaving himself open for an attack. He couldn't dodge the fragments without being at risk of shrapnel. Discord snapped his fingers and let out a small gasp as he felt almost half of his magical reserves disappear. The shrapnel was replaced by billions upon billions upon billions upon billions of butterflies in huge clusters, which rapidly died due to the lack of oxygen.

She created an explosion in-front of Discord. Discord froze the explosion and created an ice-cream scoop, scooping up the explosion and turning it into an ice-cream. He took a bite out of the ice cream. She blitzed towards him again, only to be met with his tail whacking into her face. Her jaw snapped open and she bit down into his tail and spun him around, slamming him into the ground. She appeared on-top of him and planted a hoof on his throat.

Discord let out a small gasp. He gripped onto her wrist and squeezed. Her sword appeared in her telekinetic grasp.

“Only a monster would kill their friends and family in a hissy-fit. Only a monster would destroy all life because they don’t get what they want. So logically,”

She looked down at him. Her hoof pressed deeper. The shadows began to scream.

“You are a monster.” He grinned triumphantly. “And you always will be.”

“I know.” Twilight’s voice was jagged and broken, raspy from disuse. “...so I might as well embrace it.”

The Lady in Lavender opened her mouth. Her throat bulged as a white wisp leaked out from it - her teeth beginning to rotate as an otherworldly glow came from deep within her maw.

His screams echoed through the dead of space.

A skeletal hand planted itself on her shoulder. She jolted - her eyes still shut yet wide open, her small form trembling -

“Sh.” The red-eyed skeletal wolf winked at her, holding a claw to his lips.

Her eyes opened.

Weeks.

She woke up screaming. Lightning coursed off of her, striking and webbing across the ground in wide arcs before curving back up and striking her, her skin beginning to burn.

Nightmare Moon arched an eyebrow. Strong hooves promptly gripped onto her shoulder. The Grand Zealot leaned in close - whispering to the screaming filly.

“Well? What did you see?” Grand Zealot Igneous whispered.

Pinkamena gripped onto his wrists, and wept -

“Desolation!”

-

Author's Note

Slowly, but surely.
Behold! A discord server!

Differences in style could be me just saying fuck it to get around writer's block, or it being a fair minute since I've last written.

~~Unedited, since I was a bit excited. Editing come later!~~