The Lyrist and The Tempest

Chapters

Prologue----the Observer
Chapter 1
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Interlude----Old Friends
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Interlude---Old Memories
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter Final--New Beginnings
Chapter 2
Chapter 10

Prologue----the Observer

The lone red light atop of the observer flickered towards the stars. The last scan of the cycle had been completed, the results ready to be saved. He tried incorporating it into his memory unit, but only received an error log. It must be full again, and an outdated file must be deleted to make room for the new one. He reached into its depth and dug out the oldest report it contained—it was the third scan of cycle 82,546. All three outputs were null, which is good. The report was unimportant, and to remove it would be safe.

The red light flickered again as he commenced the deletion sequence. He’d lost count of how many of these files he had to cast away, even if he had the heart for it. He was programmed to record as many results as possible, and the creators had granted him a generous storage unit capable of sustaining 18,250 cycles. Normally, a new observer would be launched and take his place long before that number is reached, and he would by then return to his creators. The precious statistics he’d collected would be extracted and studied by them, and he would gloriously retire and perhaps be charged a new duty of becoming the scrap metal added to another creation. Or, if he was lucky enough, he would serve as an attractive and admirable display in one of the museums of the Main Haven, just like the predecessor he’d replaced many, many cycles ago. He did not detest nor anticipate his fate—he wasn’t supposed to. It was out of his program, after all.

But somehow his replacement never came. His watch had been prolonged, the logs stacked so high that he had to run the emergency sequence which required him to preserve the latest results. It didn’t bother him, though. Everything he did was still within his program and would remain so even if he was to continue this forever. He didn’t even know how to question. It was out of his program.

He examined the log for one last time and noticed that the number of cycles was divisible by four. This calls for an additional execution. The codes for it were abruptly added a few tens of thousand cycles ago, yet he’ll follow them, nonetheless.

One of its two thrusters turned on with a warm flow of current. His scanning units slowly tilted and turned backward, facing the lone, dark grey planet floating in a distance. His antenna sent out an electric signal, allowing it to fly towards it with the speed of light. The response came almost within a second:

He added that line onto the report, then slid it into the memory unit. Another unimportant report. The creators would not be interested in it. His job in this cycle was over.

Just before entering dormant mode, however, his photon scope received a sudden tremor. The silent chips hummed as he quickly terminated the sleeping protocol and called on his processor. It was a minor pulse of visible light of all wavelengths ranging from 400 to 700 nanometers, weak as the flutter of a mosquito against the radiation of the system’s sun, yet it still triggered his alarm—the signal came from the L-jump gate.

It was strange. His database suggested that all the jump gates are to remain sealed, that no quarks, leptons, or exchange particles are allowed to leave the home cluster. It was a fundamental law, carved in his deepest base code. Whatever had violated it must be of great priority of recording.

He activated his other thruster, pushing the scanning units backward. He never made it to the halfway point before a ball of visible light exploded beside him and turned the thrusters and most of his protective coatings into boiling liquid metal. The intricate patterns on the L-jump gate beside him beamed up like fireworks, so bright that one might mistake it as a second green sun from Main Haven’s surface. The photon scope and the nuclear detection module received a flood of unbelievable statistics that made him run a diagnostic protocol to make sure they were not fooling him. The green sphere of energy pulsed for a few minutes. It then gradually resided into the blackness of space, and all the results went null again.

The red light went on and off. A system failure had been detected and the emergency protocol was activated. After he made sure that all the core systems were intact, he immediately wrote a new report, classified it as a top-most priority, and sent it straight to his creators without bothering to save it. The data he’d collected from the last few seconds were more than enough to break every single understanding of physics the creators had assigned into his database, and it was his duty to report it right away.

His antenna beeped as the information was successfully sent. His job of this cycle was now truly complete. Using this discovery, maybe his creators will gain a planet-worth of unprecedented understandings of time and space, but he won’t be there to see it. During the outburst, a wave of high-energy gamma particles had fried every single coil on his main solar power generator. He’ll have to run on back-up power source from now on, which could only last 500 cycles. As for what would happen after that—

He terminated the calculations. It was none of his concern. The antenna, photon scope, and nuclear detection module had lost their coatings but had remained functional. The shockwave had blasted him away and destroyed the thrusters, forcing him to remain at an awkward angle, yet he could still receive the readings. As long as he was still powered, his duty will continue. His retirement may not be as venerated as it should’ve been, but it was not like he had the mind to care. His watch will be eternal.

The observer wouldn’t have known that there were no living organisms left on Main Heaven to interpret his findings. His forever leaning photon scope would never discover that a large lump of black nanobot goo covering the planet had disappeared along with the green star. And he wouldn’t have realized that, on the other side of the activated jump gate, millions of light-years away, on a green and blue planet called as Equestria by its inhabitants, within a humble two-story building on the east corner of the Town of Ponyville, a mint-green unicorn was snoring with her lyre between her front hooves. A bright green glow emanated from her nightstand, then vanished as quickly as it emerged.

The unicorn half-opened an ember eye, mumbled incomprehensibly, rolled in her bed, and slept off again. She didn’t see the green star shining through her window, the one that never belonged to Luna’s dome of the night.

If she had seen it by that time, maybe she would have canceled her holiday.

Author's Note

Yeah, I know this may appear familiar. Grey Wind's story, published here approximately a year and a half ago, the very first piece of writing I've ever conducted in my life. And now, after all those times, after hundreds of thousands of words of trials and errors in my other creative writing projects, I have brought the story idea back for I believe it deserves a permanent spot in my soul. This an 100-percent overhauled version of The Tale of the Grey Tempest. I sincerely hope that whoever comes across it would be able to enjoy it.

Updates in February maybe postponed due to schoolwork, while my schedule is expected to be much looser after mid-March. I'll try to maintain a regular update routine by then, hopefully three or four times a month.

The greatest thanks to everypony who had read and rated The Tale of the Grey Tempest. It was you that had led me to discover one of the best methods of creation humanity has ever invented, and that there are many other wonderful things in my life other than sulking in self-depression. :pinkiesmile:

Chapter 1

Lyra Heartstrings took a deep breath as she walked out of the train’s door. She swung her saddlebag onto her back with a grasp of magic and straightened her shoulders, gazing towards the narrow dirt road leading away from the platform. The wooden planks, the leaning “Train” signpost hanging from the rusty chains, and the field of yellow and purple flowers lining the path’s sides—everything was just like the very few vague images she’d remembered. An excitement rose from her hooves and swept through her aquamarine furs, climbing up and into her horns, then exploded in a faint ember magical glow.

This is it. It’s definitely the place, she thought, taking in a mouthful of fresh, mud-flavored air. Even that tasted familiar, I am finally back.

“Sorry, darling,” a cream-colored earth pony came to her side. Bon-bon wrapped a front hoof around her neck and squeezed it, “I just couldn’t pass this opportunity—”

“Yeah, I totally understand!” Lyra pretended a huff, “going to the Equestria Dairy Affair and competing in the Sugar Maker’s Cup is something much more important than spending a holiday with your best friend and roommate, of course!”

“Lyra…” Bon-bon winced.

“Geez, Bony, I’m joking!” Lyra leaned close to Bon-Bon’s eyes and gave her the largest beam she could manage, “how could I ever be mad at you? You are about to become the best sugar maker on all of Equestria!”

Bon-Bon blinked a few times, then smiled with relief.

“I’m…quite sure I’m nowhere near that level, Lyra.”

“Oh, don’t you DARE!” Lyra exclaimed, pulling her close, “Every pony knows you make the best sweets! Even Pinkie said that!” she lowered her volume, whispering into her ear, “psst, do the awards come with prizes? Like, financially?”

“Well, I heard the champion will get a few hundred—”

“Then it is settled!” Lyra smirked, “you go out there and win that cup, and next year we’ll have the money to spend an exciting holiday in…” she rubbed her chins, “…Las Pegasus! Yeah, definitely Las Pegasus! And by that time—” She nuzzled her roommate’s mane, “—we’ll take our times together!”

A siren went off behind them. The train was starting.

“Heh, heh, thanks, Lyra,” Bon-Bon glanced at the train, then offered her an apologetic smile, “sorry, I…have to go. Have fun with your holiday!”

“Then be quick!” Lyra ushered, “go out there and make EVERYPONY proud!”

Bon-Bon chuckled. She hugged her neck with her front hooves, then turned around and hopped back onto the train. Lyra waved as the train drove away from her and the façade of her best friend was gradually reduced to a tiny, milk-colored dot against the distant green hills. She watched until the last streaks of smoke from the train’s chimney elapsed from her vision, then sighed slightly. Bon-Bon will be successful, and she was very sure of it. Her roommate was the kind of mare that would grab her chance and use it to her fullest whenever she has one. She never needed to worry about her. She looked around herself and saw only green grass and flowers, while there was no sound apart from the gentle hum of wind.

She was truly alone now.

She shuddered uncomfortably. This feeling was so foreign. As far as she could recall, she was always accompanied by Bon-Bon in Ponyville or surrounded by her other friends in Canterlot. She shifted her weights as she walked off the train platform and followed the path into the field of flowers, where the memories of the only five ponies she could trust apart from Bon-Bon on this world made her stop her steps. Minuette, Twinkle Shine, Lemon Heart, Moondancer, and of course, Twilight Sparkle. It has been long since she’d last seen them. What could they possibly be doing now?

She looked up to the sky and saw the sun directly above her head. The middle of a day. Minuette should be having lunch at that small Café right across from her antique store. Meals should’ve been served in the Princesses’ palace, which means Lemon and Twinkle’s works are already finished. They would most probably be found relaxing somewhere in the palace grounds with two cups of warm tea. Moondancer should still be learning those top-tier magical tricks in the Canterlot Library. As for Twilight…

Saving the world somewhere, apparently, she giggled bitterly. Such wonderful ponies her friends were. She’d doubted it many times, that how in a world, could a pony so ordinary like herself, have even got that close to them. She’d wondered many times whether she’d deserved it, and Bon-Bon knew it, too.

“They are definitely somepony, but they are just a few. Most other ponies—including you and me—are nopony, so you don’t need to worry about that,” she remembered Bony saying this one time after another whenever she found her unhappy, and she had always agreed with her, until that day when she found that hidden chamber beneath her bed while cleaning her room and the set of suit and the huge box of silver and golden medals within it.

Special Agent Sweetie Drops…That name would suit her better…She kicked the dirt with a hoof. A breeze was blowing across the field, and the flowers bent before her as if they were bowing to her. She suddenly felt she was just like those flowers when she was surrounded by them, that she could do nothing but to kneel. Minuette had her store and an entire block of loyal customers, Lemon and Twinkle had the favor of the nobles and salaries that would make a prince envious, Moondancer held a miniature Royal Archive as a brain, Twilight had her friends and the elements of harmony, and Bon-Bon, the pony she’d once considered as the kindest and most caring mare on all of Equestria, had served her entire youth in Celestia’s secret military and protected the country from hundreds and thousands of threats and crisis.

But for me? Her heart ached. Save for a few music scripts that no pony would appreciate and a mindful of crazy, useless thoughts, nothing.

Why would they even want to spend time with me? She’d wondered this question more than a million times. She guessed it was sympathy. She did appear quite miserable back in Canterlot, being the only pony in that fancy magical school that could not be related to any name that is known by the public. Or maybe it was just because they thought she was funny, and they enjoyed the presence of the energetic, imaginative unicorn they see as Lyra Heartstrings. It was the only thing she could offer them, after all.

Which is why I must do this, she encouraged herself, wiping her eyes, I’ll never be as great as my friends are, but at least I will do this right.

That’s correct. The absence of her friend was more of a blessing than a curse. If Bon-Bon was here, she would never approve of what she had planned. She would solely laugh it off as another of her “imaginations” and prevent her from carrying out any effort of chasing them, just like all her other friends when they were back at school.

But nopony is here to stop me this time, she bit her lips with gritted teeth, and now is the perfect time to do something crazy.

Something such as finding her mother.

She took a determined pace forward, walking away from the flowers and back to the path. This was not her first try. Ever since she’d known from the ponies of the orphanage that they’d discovered her on their front steps, wrapped in a sheet and without a single note of explanation, her family issue had always been placed on top of her menu of waiting-to-be-solved mysteries. Over the past few years, she almost felt that there were two sides of her sharing a single body: sometimes she was Lyra Heartstrings, the joyful dreamer lyrist who enjoys entertaining others more than anything else, and sometimes she was another Lyra Heartstrings, a helpless unicorn orphan who would wake up shrieking every night from the nightmares of her family torn to pieces right in front of her.

But of course, she had not shown this side to any of her friends, or any pony else at all. She knew perfectly that nopony would want to hang out around a psycho.

I can’t continue this forever, she thought as she walked, gazing up towards the clouds above her, Bony and my friends…they’ll discover sooner or later. Especially Bony. I can never hide anything from her.

Which is why I have to settle this as quickly as possible! Her ears flicked anxiously, they must never know. I will NEVER bother my friends with my questions. They don’t deserve the trouble.

She stopped for a lunch a few hours past noon atop a small hill by the road and in the shadow of a large oak tree. The clouds had drifted away, the sky pure blue like an enormous dome of sapphire, and below it, filling every last corner of her vision, were endless ridges of green hills and prismatic flowers. At the farthest point below the sky, down a narrow path between the grassy mounds, was the faintest image of a lane of wooden buildings, columns of lively smoke rising from them.

The town of Memento. Her true birthplace, her true home.

A sudden urge rose to her chest, that she wanted to play a song. She reached into her saddlebags and pulled out a small golden lyre. A beam of ember magic left her horns and was wrapped around it, while the instrument rapidly grew in size until it could be comfortably held by her front hooves—a convenient enchantment placed by Twilight when they were still classmates.

There was another object she had brought with her apart from her lyre, and she took it out as well and laid it onto the ground. It was a small round box made purely of stone, with a snowflake-shaped green pattern engraved upon it, a small key socket in its very center. It was the only thing she had with her when the ponies at the orphanage discovered her when she was a filly. She’d always guessed that it was a clue left by her mother and that whatever was placed within her will lead her to her parents. Alas, she had never been able to find the key or any other means to open the box.

Not for much longer.

Holding the lyre with both her front hooves, Lyra closed her eyes and began to play. The song was one she had written herself, but had never played in front of the ears of anypony else. Here she was alone, and nopony would be here to tell her how badly it had been crafted, so she could play without any doubts or worries, to her heart’s fullest. She did not need an audience. The notes were only meant for her. The loneliness, the sadness, the covet to have a place she could truly belong to like every one of her friends—they were only meant for her.

The song was finished. She gently put the lyre back down, grabbed the stone container and raised it above her head, towards the town buildings in a distance. She wasn’t sure what she will find in her birthplace, but she was sure that there were at least answers—answers that will solve the mysteries her parents had left with her and put an end to all her nightmares.

No turning back now. It was time for an adventure—an adventure that belonged to nopony but herself.

Author's Note

Questions? Suggestions? Criticisms?
Leave all of them in the comment section!

Chapter 3

BOOM!

Lyra’s eyes snapped open to golden sunlight and a shaking ceiling. Something was trembling the entire treehouse. She sprang up on her bed, her blurred sight wandering out of the window. A pillar of smoke rose from the other side of the lake. A circle of flame was licking over the grass, ashes soaring into the sky, its boundary dangerously close to the edge of the forest. She could smell the burned taste even at this distance. She jumped off the bed and rushed downstairs. Throwing her saddlebag onto her back, she bumped open the door—then nearly crushed straight into a ball of black and white feathers.

“Ah! Nightjar!”

“Ah!” Nightjar squeaked, “Ly—Lyra! You—you left so late last night, I got worried so…” she nervously glanced at the lake, “wh—what’s going on? Why is everything—”

“I don’t know, I just woke up—”

“If this continues, it will burn the forest!” Nightjar interrupted, eyes wide with fear, “then the town will be…”

Lyra needed no reminders. She remembered with utter clarity how fast forest fires could spread, and how practically everything within a two-miles range was flammable. Including her treehouse and every single wooden household in Memento.

“Then we have to put it out. Follow me!” she exclaimed, then turned around and dashed for the lake.

“How are we supposed to move the water?” Nightjar was starting to sound horrified, “I should’ve brought a bucket…”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got my magic,” Lyra assured as confidently as she could muster. She lit up her horn as they ran along the lakeshore, reaching all her magic into the lake and shoving water into the air. An orb of water soon floated above her horn, swirling as more water joined in. She discovered with a sank heart as they rounded the lake and approached the flames, however, that things were much worse than they’d looked like. The circle of fire was too large. It made the water she’d exhausted her magic to gather look like a golf ball.

What should I do?! She was surprised at how fast her brain was working, putting such a big fire out…with so little water…

Wait…

Her eyeballs rolled in their sockets. She reared up and raised her head, and then, with all the might she had left, threw the water orb into the sky. Her magic managed to hold the ball just long enough for it to reach its highest spot, before dissipating and allowing it to shatter into millions of tiny droplets. They fell like a miniature rain, staining a wet circle of grass around the flames. The fire drew back as it was incident on the moistened grass, only leaking out at a few dry fringes, which Nightjar quickly pounced over and stomped into submission.

Lyra felt a dizziness in her head. She groaned and collapsed onto a patch of white flowers.

“Lyra!” Nightjar squawked.

“I’m fine…” Lyra muttered as Nightjar took her hooves and supported her up, “just…used too much magic…”

The fire was contained. They sat down, panting for breath, watching as the sparks got lower and lower. Ashes were beginning to settle, dying their surroundings with a layer of blighted grey.

“Great job, Lyra…” Nightjar smiled to Lyra, “your magic…it was awesome!”

“I used all of them up,” Lyra mumbled, “if Twilight was here, she wouldn’t shed a single sweat…”

“Don’t say that,” Nightjar patted her back softly with her one wing, “what do you think has caused this? Such a big fire…”

Lyra’s horn felt sore. It has been too long since she’d focused this much magic at a single point. Rubbing her forehead, she glanced around them. Bits of dirt and burnt plant roots were lying here and there, protruding weirdly out of the grasses and flowers. Some of them were even floating in the lake.

“Looks like something exploded underground—” Lyra cut herself off. That would not explain the fire. She looked back at the circle. The flames had mostly settled, replaced by a thick, black mist.

An explosion, a fire, blasting off the dirt underground… she gasped. The answer was just beneath her throat.

“A meteor…?”

“Wow, it’s true!” Nightjar said, her wing relaxing down, “fire, loud sound, dust flying everywhere…that’s exactly like what they say in the books!” Though still tired, her eyes were starting to glitter, “never thought I would witness one myself!”

Lyra nodded. A falling star isn’t exactly a thing ponies would see every day. She even felt a little disappointed that she didn’t wake up a little earlier. Otherwise, she would’ve seen the entire process: The meteor slashing through the atmosphere, engulfed in golden-red, blossoming a flower of flame when it contacted the land…Minuette and Moondancer would exchange an entire lifetime just to get a single look at it.

“Judging from the explosion, the meteor can’t have been too small!” Nightjar announced excitedly, then jumped forward, "I’m going to have a look at it!”

She ran over to the edge of the circle, then froze.

“Nightjar?” Lyra asked. She made her way to her side and looked down through the smoke. Her eyes went wide as well.

Below her was a giant, gaping round opening almost as wide as the stump of the Golden Oak Library. The hole was in a cone shape, made up of a series of unicentral circles, drilling deep into the rocks of the lake bottom. Its walls were glittering with vitrified sand, the encased stones molten and distorted into strange shapes. And there, lying in the very bottom of the cave, what had rammed into the ground in the literal speed of a falling star, was…

Lyra had to rub her eyes multiple times to make sure they were not fooling her.

…A pony. A grey-coated pegasus mare. Her body was covered by dust, her tattered mane and tail powerlessly flat on the pit’s bottom. Squares of blackness which looked like burns were all over her back and flanks. Her eyes were tightly closed, yet her nostrils were painfully squinting. She was clearly still conscious.

“What in the name of…” Nightjar blinked hard, petrified. She shook her head, reached into the hole, and yelled:

“Hey! Can you hear me? Are—are you—”

Hearing her voice, the mare’s eyes snapped open. They were emerald green, stainless without grime. Her irises wandered around before fixing onto Nightjar. Her lips trembled, then spat out a single word:

“Leave.”

“L--leave? No!” Nightjar cried, “you need help! Lyra! Help me—AH!!!”

She shrieked and flinched back as a cloud of grey rose out of the hole, yanked off a few of her feathers, and dashed straight into the sky. All Lyra heard was a loud swoosh and the sound of a sharp object stabbing into the mud, and the next second she was struck to the ground, pinned onto her back.

It happened so fast. Lyra felt a pain bursting out of her stomach. It was bad. It was even worse than the time she’d accidentally stuck a hoof into Bon Bon’s washing machine. Something warm was splattering all over her, dripping down her belly. She wanted to stand up and see what it was, but her limbs felt powerless.

“LYRA!!!!” She heard a scream of despair.

Then she was smacked on the head, and everything went black.

Chapter 4

Lyra felt as if her body was weightless. She was floating, her hooves sprawled out and touching the void. In front of her was an ocean of blackness, encasing her like the shell of a giant egg. Tiny spots of green light were visible at a distance. At first, she thought they were stars but soon discovered that their brightness was constantly shifting. She focused her vision, wanting to see what had emanated the light, but couldn’t get a clearer look no matter how widely her eyes gaped.

Then, suddenly, the spots of light began to move. They flew in unison, drawing a wide emerald semi-circle arc on the black background, before shooting straight towards her. Their size enlarged rapidly, and Lyra felt a wave of panic. Somehow she just knew they were coming for her. She tried to wriggle her body and escape from their path, but her hooves and magic were not responding. She was helpless.

The stars were upon her in merely seconds. Heat brushed against her mane as they dashed past her, entangling her in a web of dark green trails. Their motion landed a push on her side, spinning her body around. Her vision blurred and refocused, and Lyra let out a gasp.

She was facing a huge planet. It was just like the ones she’d observed using the telescope at school, only that all of those she’d watched before were all bland and lifeless and nowhere as beautiful. The globe in front of her was mostly blue with fragments of green and grey continents, covered with an ever-changing layer of white clouds. It reminded her of a piece of gem she’d once seen in a jewelry store in Canterlot. She remembered it very clearly: it was a round piece of sapphire ornamented by a circle of green carnelian. There was a period in her life when she was very into jewelry accessories, and the piece had stolen her heart since the first time she’d seen it. There was no way she could afford such a piece at that time, of course, but it didn’t stop her from glancing at it every time she went to that store for magical supplies. And then there was that day when the sapphire suddenly disappeared from the counter, and it had given her a feeling of loss for quite a long time.

She was having a similar feeling about this planet now. It was so majestic, yet so delicate. Oh, she wished so hard that it would stay that way, that it would remain beautiful and undisrupted until the very end of time.

Then she saw the green light spots she’d seen earlier. They were just above the clouds, circling the planet at an incredible speed. After a few laps, they dove down into the center of a continent and disappeared behind the clouds.

It was at that moment when Lyra suddenly felt a warmth on her back. Whatever was holding her body down relented at the same time. As soon as she zipped her head around, a green light engulfed all the space she could see, forcing her to close her eyes. The temperature around her was rising to a searing height, before sharply dropping back to freezing cold. Pain exploded throughout her, then retreated so quickly that there was no time for her to scream. When she regained her vision, all that was left was whiteness.

“She’s awake!” She heard a voice.

Lyra groaned. Her brain felt like it had just been sucked empty by a changeling. A grey shadow poked into the corner of the whiteness. She tried her best to focus her eyes, and the shadow slowly condensed into Nightjar’s face. Her expression was a combination of fear and relief.

“Lyra!” She called urgently. She raised both her front claws, as if wanting to swoop her into a hug, but ultimately refrained herself and pressed them onto the sides of her head, “oh, thank Celestia—”

What…what did I just see? Lyra stared blankly at her. She opened her mouth and found herself unable to make a sound.

“Where…where am I…?” She coughed and muttered through her teeth. She felt so, so tired.

“Your treehouse,” Nightjar said. She was desperately trying to sound composed, “your wound was too bad, we couldn’t risk—”

“My wound?” Lyra moaned. She sat up and was immediately met with a sharp, numbing pain in her belly. She screamed and flopped back down.

“Careful!” Nightjar exclaimed. Her irises narrowed into pinpricks, “those xeomorphs…they penetrated your belly!”

“You have run into a particularly dangerous situation,” Lyra heard a second voice, “you are lucky to be still alive.”

She sat up again, much more slowly this time. It was still painful, but no longer unbearable. She was on her bed in the treehouse’s bedroom. Nightjar stepped back from her, rubbing her red, sore eyes. The pegasus she’d seen at the bottom of the meteor pit was standing beside her. The burn marks on her coat were gone, and her curly grey mane was free of dust, revealing the long, bright green stripe running through its middle.

“I have applied necessary cleaning and medicine. Your condition is stable now,” something about the mare’s voice seemed off, but Lyra didn’t have the strength to think about it, “My medicines are special. Your wound will be healed within twenty-four hours, while symptoms including pain and inability to move may last as long as two solar circles,” she turned to Nightjar, “the xeomorphs are still on the loose. I have to hunt them down. Excuse me.”

“Are you sure you are alright?” Nightjar’s claws tapped the ground, uncertain, “back at the lake, you were…”

“A minor magical accident. My conditions are optimal,” the pegasus said coldly. She then turned around and walked downstairs, “goodbye.”

“I’ll…” Nightjar leaned forward, but the mare had already disappeared below the staircase. Lyra heard the sound of the door opening and closing. Nightjar sighed and came back to her.

“You should lie down,” she said, “those xeomorphs really did a number on you…”

“What even are xeomorphs…”

“Those grey cloud-like monsters by the lake,” Nightjar cringed, “Grey Wind said they are extremely dangerous creatures—they could change into the shape of anything! She said they only existed in the northmost parts of Equestria, at the foot of the snowy mountains. Her town had been keeping them in check, but some of them had escaped recently. She’s been hunting them for weeks.”

“Oh…” Lyra slipped down onto her pillow. She has learned about many magical beasts in school but had never heard about anything called xeomorphs. It was only by this time when she noticed that her belly was wrapped in thick bandages.

“It’s all thanks to Grey Wind,” Nightjar smiled, “The way she speaks is a bit cold, but she was awesome! A single swing of her wings and those xeomorphs just went ‘pop’ and dropped down dead! Your wound was really deep, if not for her medicine and bandages…” She sniffed and wrapped her forearms around Lyra’s neck, “I—I am just so glad that you are safe, Lyra…”

“Alright, I am still alive, aren’t I?” Despite the entangled mass of question marks in her heart, Lyra still managed to comfort her. She patted her back and sank into the blanket, “…I feel sleepy. I think I need a nap.”

I need some time…alone. There was so much she had to think over.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own?” Nightjar asked in a caring voice, “maybe it’ll be better if I stay with you.”

“I said I’ve been through worse…” it was a lie and Lyra knew it. She raised a hoof towards her to prove that she was really alright, “oh, and another thing…while you are back, could you please look through your attics again? I suspect mom might’ve left behind something else. Look for…” she paused for a moment, “…another key. A much smaller key. One that might fit into the lock of a small box.”

Nightjar clearly did not understand the reasoning behind this request, but nonetheless nodded.

“I’ll…look into it.”

“Great,” Lyra flipped her body around, burying her head into the pillow with a yawn, “you are just the sweetest, Nightjar…”

She kept that gesture until she heard Nightjar nervously pacing down the staircase and exiting through the door. She rolled in bed, staring into the green night lamp suspended above her. She tried getting some sleep, but the window had no curtains to shield the morning sunlight, and her heart was filled with a knot of chaotic strings that were impossible to untangle.

This holiday has gone too much out of hoof, she thought with a slight annoyance. Her belly had stopped aching, yet it still felt stiff. A near-empty treehouse and a potentially-lethal wound—that’s all she’d got in her first two days in Memento. No means to open that box mom had left her, and not a single lead about her whereabouts.

Mom…if you just wanted me to take care of this treehouse, why bother reaching me through Nightjar? Why bother waiting for a whole sixteen years? She thought. Tears were forming in her eyes, but she forced them back. Now was not the time to get emotional. Her mind inevitably drifted to the encounter earlier in the morning.

That pegasus…what was her name? Grey Wind? She finally realized what was wrong with her voice. It was too flat, no, it was emotionless, still as a pool without a single circle of ripples. Now that she thought about it, it didn’t even sound like it came from a pony. It sounded as if it came from…

…a machine…A chill shot down her spines, and…why was she healing so quickly? She was half-dead when I saw her! But, just a minute ago… “a minor magical accident, she remembered her saying, what sort of magical accident could have caused such an explosion…? Even in that case, magical burns also take weeks to heal…Every unicorn knows about that…

Something about that pony felt wrong. Deadly wrong. She was almost certain by this time that there was even more to Grey Wind than all the strange stuff that meets the eye. She was developing this urge to give chase and hoof out every one of these questions out of her.

And there was also that dream, thinking back, she could recall the whole image she saw before she woke up: the planet, the light spots, the black space, the blinding green spark…The images were all a blur, but there was one thing that she knew for sure (and had crept her out the most): that planet she saw was not Equestria. She had studied the world map of their planet when she was at school, and the shapes of the continent she saw didn’t match. She didn’t see Celestia’s sun or Luna’s moon either. She just had a dream about a planet located in who-knows-where in space and appeared to be, by the colors of the continent, teeming with life.

Are ponies truly not alone in the Universe? That single thought was enough to make her shudder.

And those emotions I had…that sense of…caring…she thought, feeling more and more doubtful and slightly, just slightly terrified, they did not feel like they belonged to me…

This entire adventure was getting weirder and weirder. She was starting to suspect that she’d imagined the whole thing. There was no better explanation she could think of. She yawned loudly. All those thoughts were giving her quite the headache. In the end, she gave up on her thinking, closed her eyes, and soon started to snore.

Quite unexpectedly, this time her sleep was dreamless and much more peaceful. The sky was just beginning to turn dark when she woke up, feeling replenished. The last rays of sunlight were climbing over the treetops, casting a pleasant heat through the window. Lyra sat up and tried her hooves on the floor, balancing herself on all fours, and was surprised to find that it didn’t hurt at all. Her belly still felt a little stiff, but it was far from unpleasant. She shook her head, arranged her mane with her magic, and whistled.

There are still a lot of things I need to get to the bottom of, she thought with an uplifted smirk. Somehow she was feeling much more confident after a good sleep, time to get to work.

Which lasted until she got to the first floor and found Nightjar standing in the doorframe, her one wing leaning down in defeat.

“Is there really nothing else?” she asked a few minutes later, refusing to believe what she’d just heard.

“No, nothing!” Nightjar sounded even more disappointed than her, “I searched through the entire afternoon! The entire attics! I even checked the cellar!” she sighed heavily, “Mrs. Heartstrings really should’ve made a list when she left those things to mom…”

Lyra lost her words for a moment. Nightjar went forward and wrapped her wing around her neck.

“Come on, don’t look so down…” she said, “I’m sure Mrs. Heartstrings must’ve left clues elsewhere. We just need to find them!” She met Lyra’s eyes, “but not after you take a timeout! You are stressed out like hell! Come, stay at my place tonight. I’ll show you around the town tomorrow, introduce you to the town ponies, maybe they’ll know something—”

“Nothing else?” Lyra shrieked, “how could there be nothing else?!”

“Lyra, just breathe,” Nightjar whispered. Her wing hugged her closer.

Lyra took a deep breath. There was it again. She almost lost it.

Keep calm, Lyra, she cursed herself, don’t let other ponies see you as a mental…

“There you go,” Nightjar smiled, “I understand that you’re anxious, but we need to take things slowly! Tackle the problems one by one! Mom always told me that the only thing that could not do a single thing right in this world is a rush mind—”

“It’s…it’s just…she left me something at the orphanage,” Lyra said, “a box that needs a key to unlock,” she lit up her horn and reached her magic for her saddlebags, “I—just look at it!”

She knew something was wrong the second she floated them into the air—they were almost twice as heavy as they felt like yesterday. Before she could fathom anything, a grey cloud burst out of the left saddlebag and swirled towards the ceiling. It then made a sharp turn downwards and dashed straight for her chest.

Out of pure reflection, Lyra pushed hard onto Nightjar, launching her away as the xeomorph zipped between them. The momentum robbed her balance as she crashed into the kitchen cupboard. Nightjar screamed, while the xeomorph screeched as it brushed at the surface of the round table, made another turn, and pointed its course at Nightjar’s head. Without a second of hesitation, Lyra called up all the magic she had left. Not bothering to form a spell, she simply gathered them on her horn and lashed them out in the xeomorph’s direction. A beam of ember light enveloped the grey cloud as it froze mid-air. There was a sizzling sound, and Lyra felt a strain on her horn. The xeomorph was struggling, disintegrating her magic and trying to break free. She could do nothing but pour more magic in. She was NOT going to allow it to hurt Nightjar. She focused her efforts, glaring at the xeomorph until it was the only thing she could see. Her horn was starting to spark. The struggles were becoming harder and harder, and her magic was depleting. Sweat rolled down her cheeks, the xeomorph swaying wider and wider. If this continues, it would—

Clunk!

Lyra felt her magic failing her. She was taken aback a few steps and leaned against a cupboard. Nightjar was reared up in front of her, holding a transparent glass jar with one of her front claws and pressing the lid shut with the other, hard breaths coming out of the nostrils on her beak. Inside the jar, the xeomorph was shrieking silently, bumping the jar’s glass walls, its motion becoming slower with every effort it makes. Nightjar had closed the jar around it in the last second. They spent the next few minutes in silence, putting their beating, un-stabbed hearts back to where they should be.

“That…that was a close one…” she panted, “my…why would one of them be in your saddlebags…?” She glanced at Lyra’s saddlebags and shuddered.

“Must’ve snuck in there when we were at the lake,” Lyra said. She stood up slowly and walked up to Nightjar, looking into the glass jar. The xeomorph had condensed into a tiny, withered mound of grey dust on the jar’s bottom. “good thing they are not resistant to magic…”

“I thought I was dead…” Nightjar shivered. She carefully settled the jar onto the table and pressed a claw on her forehead, “I owe you a life, Lyra…”

“Well, I did say I owned YOU one, so I guess we are even now,” Lyra made a joke. Nightjar took a solid deep breath and shook her head.

“Good thing nopony was hurt…maybe we should go find Grey Wind and tell her about this…” she threw Lyra a questioning glance, “um, you wanted to show me something?”

“Oh, right.” Lyra looked around her and spotted her saddlebags lying flat against a stool. Still rubbing her sore horn, she went over and picked it up with a hoof. When she opened the one that contained her stone box, however, her hooves, her expression, as well as every single cell that made up her brain were frozen in place.

The stone box was not damp and irresponsive anymore. The patterns carved on the keyhole had come to life, emanating a faint, mysterious bright green light.

Chapter 5

Lyra knew she must’ve appeared as if she’d just seen a ghost. With shaken hooves, she raised the box out of the saddlebag, staring into its keyhole. The box looked as if it had just come to life after a long sleep, the circular patterns dancing in a broad, emerald arc. Already she could feel waves of energy pausing around her—the box was now filled up with magic.

“Wow! Your mother left you with this?” Nightjar crept over to her side, looking at the box curiously, “where’s that glow coming from? It’s so beautiful!”

“I don’t know. It has never done this before,” Lyra answered, scratching her head. She’d suspected that the box contained some kind of magic tinkering in the previous days and had tried multiple detection spells on it, but none of them had worked. Something—something that happened after she arrived at Memento—must’ve triggered the hidden mechanisms of the box, but what was it?

The answer popped into her head immediately. It was too obvious. She hadn’t encountered many events in this town. There was only that encounter by the lake and that accident a few seconds ago, not to mention…

Her eyes fixed on the jar of xeomorphs on the table.

…there was only one thing her box had been staying with the whole time.

She trotted over and lowered her horn beside the jar. Closing her eyes, she gathered a subtle amount of magic on her horn, reaching into the flows of energy around her. She felt it almost immediately—something was wrong with the nearby magical fields. Normally, the magic flows across Equestria are even, distributed uniformly throughout the world, while right now the magic around her seemed to have formed some kind of bridge connecting the xeomorphs and her box, magic flowing down through it like a stream.

The xeomorph was injecting energy into her mother’s relic. Or, rather, the box was sucking magic from it.

“This—this box” She stammered, “it’s drawing magic from the xeomorph! I can feel it!”

“For real?” Nightjar cocked her head, “but isn’t this box made by Mrs. Heartstrings? I read in a book that—”

Lyra irritably raised a hoof, showing that she was perfectly aware of what Nightjar was going to say. Any educated creature would know that all living organisms of Equestria hold magic within them, only that the ability to extract and utilize that magic is limited to very few species of animals, such as unicorns and changelings. Each kind of creature would possess the magic of a unique frequency, which is exactly why even Starswirl the Bearded himself would not be able to replicate the spells of sirens or changelings. If an object shows the magical wave pattern of a certain species of animals, then there could be only two possibilities: either that object was a part of the creature’s body, or whoever had made the object had forcefully extracted the creature’s magic and injected it into his creations.

But that means…Lyra glanced at the window. It was already night, and the sky was covered by a disk of grey clouds, veiling the stars and the moon. The former was clearly impossible, but the latter…

She shook her head. Magic extraction spells are extremely difficult to cast and strictly prohibited. All the scrolls recording them had been destroyed even before the banishment of Nightmare Moon. There was no way her mother would know about them.

“Maybe there’s something special about the xeomorphs?” Nightjar suggested, “the property of changeling magic allows changelings to change shapes, so what if the property of xeomorph magic allows it to be easily extracted and used?” Her eyes lit up as she clapped her front claws, “hey, this could be another lead left by your mom! Maybe she wanted you to find that method and use it to open the box!”

“Maybe…” But she could’ve told me directly… Lyra thought and sighed, just what kind of game are you playing with me, mother?

She went over to the jar, grabbed it, and stuffed it into her saddlebag. If only she knew more about these creatures. Perhaps Nightjar had a book in Cosmetic Balcony that could tell her—

Wait, she was forgetting somepony. Lyra turned towards the door.

Grey Wind. She’s been hunting them. If anypony knows best about the xeomorphs, then it would be her. It would also be a chance

…Assuming all that she said was true…

“Hey, we could ask Grey Wind!” Nightjar pointed out in a good time, “she certainly knows about the xeomorphs!”

“Good idea,” Lyra nodded. She passed Nightjar and went towards the door, “Did you see where she went after saving me?”

“I think she chased the xeomorphs into the forest…but—” Nightjar threw a worried look towards the window, “it’s already night, maybe you should go tomorrow—”

“I can’t wait for that long,” Lyra simply replied while opening the door.

“But you are still bandaged!” Nightjar scratched the floor, “at least—I’ll go with you!”

Lyra wanted to refuse, to tell her that there was really no need to spend any more of her efforts on helping her, but Nightjar had already hopped out of the door, and she could do nothing but follow. Soon they were back within the New Moon Forest, treading along the lamp-lit path through the forest’s middle. Quite to Lyra’s surprise, even without the moon, the forest was not that dark. Tiny luminescent mushrooms sprouted out between the vines and tree roots, and there were many tall herb-like plants growing between the lines and lines of old oak trees, their disk-shaped leaves emitting a mysterious silver glow.

“Those are Crescent Reeds—their leaves secrete a fluid that glows in the dark,” Nightjar said, noticing her sights. She jogged over to Lyra’s side, and asked hastily, “um—just asking, I didn’t really catch where she went, so how are we going to find her?’

“It’s easy—we look for the xeomorphs,” Lyra had it all planned out. She still remembered how the magic energy floating out of the xeomorphs felt like. Lighting up her horn, she casted a simple detection spell, searching for the frequency of the xeomorph’s magic. She saw it almost immediately—right there in front of them, four flickers of magic were wavering in the air, flapping like a flock of panicked doves. Her magic supply had recovered a bit while they walked, but they were still not enough to pinpoint their exact separation with them. She could only see their directions.

If Twilight was here, things would have…she hardly pushed that thought away before motioning towards Nightjar;

“I see them. Follow me!”

She then diverted from the main path and plunged herself into the forest, Nightjar following closely behind her. Twigs and dead leaves snapped under their hooves and claws as they whirled between the stumps, vines, and tree trunks, the magical glows of the xeomorphs getting larger and larger.

“Ly—Lyra! Slow down!” Nightjar exclaimed, struggling to keep up, “If we make too much noise, we’ll be in danger!” she panted, “there—there is a monster here, somewhere…” her eyes shrank into pinpricks, “the town ponies kept telling me I was just seeing things, but I knew what I saw!”

“How could you be so sure?” Lyra asked carelessly.

“Because—because…”

Nightjar sharply stopped and landed an uneasy front claw onto her shoulder.

“Because that’s…” she said slowly, “that’s what took my wing…when I was younger…”

Lyra’s hooves ferociously trembled, nearly tripping over a rock. She stopped as well, went over to Nightjar, and softly patted her shoulder. Their eyes met, and they turned away at the same time and broke again into running, no further exchange of words. Soon they started hearing noises, the hum of swaying branches, and the fluttering of wings. The trees around them were becoming sparser, and a green light was leaking out from their fringes, too strong to be natural. Before Lyra had any time to think about it, they had already stumbled into a small clearing. There was the screech of something tearing through the air at a ridiculous speed, and then a grey object rammed straight into a stump beside her. Dust covered her vision, and the same object instantly sprang back into the air, cutting through the dust like a scissor through a fabric. The light of her magic illuminated the dark forest, and Lyra gasped.

It was Grey Wind. The grey pegasus was swirling left and right in the air, the green stripes on her mane and tail emitting a bright emerald glow. Four clusters of xeomorphs were swarmed around her, soaring and thrusting and desperately trying to knock her out of the air. High-pitched humming invaded Lyra’s ears, hammering her eardrums.

“What the—” Confusion, shock, and ultimately fear circled through Nightjar’s eyes. She grabbed Lyra’s leg, “There’s too many! We…we need to help her!”

“How?!” Lyra groaned, her eyes darting through the clearing. Neither Grey Wind nor the xeomorphs was gaining any advantage over each other. They were both too small, and too fast. The xeomorphs could not catch Grey Wind, and every time she got a hold of one of them, another would immediately jab from the side and cut off her pursuit. She stared down at the dirt, trying her best to ignore the Celestia-forsaken humming and think of a plan. Nightjar couldn’t fly, and she had no confidence to land an attack spell on the xeomorphs without hitting Grey Wind while they are so closely entangled. Maybe if she could find a perfect chance, then a constriction spell—

CRACK!!!!

She heard the horrifying sound of snapping bones. Nightjar screamed. Lyra raised her head and just managed to see Grey Wind crashing head-first onto the ground, lying unconscious beside a protruding boulder. The xeomorphs had gathered together, integrating into a long, black spear. With a loud hum of excitement, it stabbed straight down, aimed at Grey Wind’s chest.

“Grey Wind!!!!” Nightjar cried as Lyra pounced forward, placing herself between Grey Wind and the xeomorphs. Magic poured out of her horn as she shaped her magic into a mass-constriction spell. A sphere of golden light materialized around the advancing xeomorphs, enveloping them within. The tip of the spear dissipated into a grey smoke as it collided with Lyra’s magic, forcing the xeomorphs away from their path. Lyra felt the strain on her horn again, but somehow the xeomorphs’ struggles were much weaker this time.

I—I can do this! A syringe of courage rushed up into her mind.

“Nightjar, get Grey Wind out of here!” She shouted. Concentrating her will on her magic, she reared up and slammed her front hooves into the ground, using the momentum to release the full strength of her spell. The magic sphere broke through the xeomorphs’ retaliation as it rapidly shrank inwards, then exploded in an ember spark. Lyra panted as her horn died down, her eyes searching for any more incoming danger. The humming disappeared, the clearing returning to the silent songs of crickets and fireflies. The xeomorphs were destroyed, blasted off into millions of tiny grey dots flying off into the night.

“Lyra!” Nightjar called urgently behind her before Lyra could finish her sigh of relief. She was knelt beside Grey Wind, pushing her front claws onto her forehead. Fresh blood was trickling down the pegasus’ mane, and one of her wings was leaning against her flank at an impossible angle.

“Her wing is broken! And her head…I don’t know…” she muttered, sounding utterly scared, “What—what should we do? We can’t just…”

“We need to get a doctor,” The calmness of her voice nearly surprised Lyra herself, “is there a clinic in the town?”

“I—” Nightjar took a deep breath, “I know a pony that could help her! Come on!”

She then stood up as Lyra picked Grey Wind with her magic and gently settled her onto Nightjar’s back. Carrying her, the two found their way back to the forest’s main path and started running. They went all the way through the forest and back onto the street of Memento, past the central square and the Luna statue, then onto Moonlit Avenue. They stopped at a small building a block away from the Cosmetic Balcony, where Nightjar quickly knocked on the door.

“Doctor Warmhoof!” she cried, “please, we have an emergency!”

The door was answered by a brown-coated earth pony stallion in a white robe. His pair of glasses was leaning awkwardly on his muzzle as if he had just been woken up from his sleep.

“Nightjar, it’s almost midnight—” his eyes widened as he saw Grey Wind, “sweet Luna…quick,” he opened the door and motioned inside, “bring her in.”

Lyra and Nightjar walked into a small room with a bed and a desk standing on one side. A shelf of needles, pliers, and other medical instruments was against the wall across from it. Doctor Warmhoof went over to the shelf and grabbed a roll of gauze and a small pincer.

“Put her onto the bed,” he ordered while unwrapping the gauze. Nightjar went over and carefully settled Grey Wind onto the bed. Doctor Warmhoof then went over and separated the pegasus’ mane with a hoof. His brows knitted.

“She needs a few stitches. Good thing the bleeding has stopped,” he said, then turned to her broken wing, “gotta need an X-Ray shot for this. Give me a moment.”

He went upstairs through a staircase in the room’s corner and soon returned with a machine that has a huge black screen installed in its center and an odd-looking mask.

“You’d better wait outside,” he said, “the radiation and everything.”

Lyra and Nightjar nodded and retreated outdoors, where they waited in silence. After an arduous five minutes that felt like many days, the door reopened, and Doctor Warmhoof appeared in the door frame. His expression was much softer now.

“Her skull was not broken. It was the concussion that got to her. The wing, though…” he said, scratching his chin, “I’ve never seen anything like this before. The skins and muscles were all intact, not even a single bleed, but the joint was practically snapped in half.” He eyed Nightjar suspiciously, “Nightjar, what happened to her?”

Lyra and Nightjar shared a glance.

“Um…I don’t know,” Nightjar answered as sincerely as possible, “we found her in the forest. Looks like she fell from the sky.”

“Then she probably crashed on her left wing,” Warmhoof nodded and sighed, “she was lucky. Won’t be flying for a few weeks, but at least the damage is reversible. She will recover, given the time.”

“Thank Luna…” Nightjar let out a breath of relief, “and thank you as well, Doctor Warmhoof.”

“No problem, it’s just a part of my job,” Warmhoof waved a hoof, then turned to Lyra, “and this is…oh,” he scanned her from head to tail, “you’re…you’re the Heartstrings’ daughter, aren’t you?”

“Yes, my name is Lyra,” Lyra answered carefully, “um, you know my parents?”

“How would I not?” Warmhoof smiled, “Melody was the best crafter in all of Equestria. She made nearly all the toys for the fillies in town.”

“Do you have any idea where she ended up?” Lyra asked hopefully.

Warmhoof’s smile faded.

“Afraid not,” he said, “she lives away from the town, so I only see her when she visits the market. Then one day she just…stopped coming, I guess.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t worry, Doctor Warmhoof,” Nightjar chimed, “we have a new lead now! We will find Mrs. Heartstrings!”

“Nightjar has told me about your…situation,” Warmhoof nodded, “sorry about that. If you need any help, you can always come to me. A friend of Nightjar is a friend of mine,” he looked between the two girls, “well, I suggest you two go and get some rest. She won’t be waking up in a few hours, not to mention the follow-up treatments. I’ll inform you as soon as she is conscious.”

“Thanks again, Doctor Warmhoof,” Lyra said, “good night.”

“I pray for your luck, Lyra. Blessing of the moon upon your quest,” Warmhoof smiled again and closed the door, leaving the two friends alone on the street.

“Come and stay at my place,” Nightjar said to Lyra, “it’s too late now, can’t possibly have you walk all the way through the forest. And…” she grinned, “I’ve got a theory that I’d like to prove.”

“Alright,” Lyra agreed. There was no way she was going back into the New Moon Forest, not when there could still be blood-thirsty xeomorphs on the loose. The fatigue of the day was finally catching up, and her coat was desperately missing the soft bed. She glanced at the statue of the central square when they started walking home. Princess Luna was still maintaining her regal gesture, reaching toward the sky as if she was going to challenge the majesty of the stars. She suddenly had this weird feeling that everything was just at its beginning, and that her answer was not going to come any time sooner.

O, Princess Luna, she prayed towards the statue, please, at least grant me a good dream tonight…

Chapter 6

Turned out that even Princess Luna was not able to protect her.

When Lyra opened her eyes again, she was already floating in space, staring into the blackness, but she knew something was different this time, for her mind was fully conscious. No strange thoughts were invading it, and she was perfectly sure that she was dreaming from the very beginning.

She tried her hooves and found them locked into places again. An uneasiness shot all over her, her furs alarmingly zipping straight. Having the same dream for two consecutive nights is strange enough, and now even a lucid one?

This can’t be a coincidence…No…panicked thoughts flooded into her. She saw the green stars again. Their motion was too well-synchronized with the ones she saw yesterday, painting a green semi-circle before rushing towards her. Once more Lyra felt the heat as they flew past, and her body was jerked around, facing backward. Her eyes widened.

The planet was still there, but Lyra could barely recognize it. The beautiful green and blue parts of it were gone, consumed by packets and packets of black rocks and grey goo. The entire planet was like a rotten egg covered up by grey moss. The color was too familiar to Lyra, and it turned her uneasiness straight into terror—they were the color of xeomorphs.

Her belly suddenly trembled. A strong force pulled on her hooves, thrusting her towards the planet. The grey globe rapidly enlarged until the abhorrent color filled up every corner of her vision, and she felt the resistance of air as she pushed through the atmosphere. Reflectively she closed her eyes, and she could feel a moist on her fur as she penetrated the clouds, her hoofs landing on solid ground. Tentatively she opened her left eye, then gasped.

She was standing on the top of a small, black rock-covered hill overlooking a vast plain. The land beneath her was pure grey, barren without a single sprout of life. She could see jagged protrusions jabbing out from the grey goo, and she nearly screamed out upon a closer look—they were the branches of dead trees. Everything was covered by a thick layer of grey xeomorph dust, and in a distance, she could see many much taller protrusions leaning against other in a maze of spires—the remnants of a great city.

The planet was consumed by xeomorphs.

Is this a warning? Her mane couldn’t stop trembling, is this what Equestria would become if we hadn’t stopped those xeomorphs in the forest? But why would there be so many—

Bear witness, organic creature. This is what we can achieve together.

A voice arose in Lyra’s head. Her hooves wobbled and she nearly fell to the ground. Hums were going off all around her. Flickers of green light were appearing in the carpet of grey in front of her, rising and falling.

Abandon your physical form. Join us. As family.

“No! No!” Lyra screamed. The hum was getting louder. More and more green lights were joining their brothers, twinkling like the stars of a miniature galaxy.

You will be taunted by no one. Your strength will be unmatchable. Your loneliness will be history.

Together, we will devour the very gods…

The xeomorphs were starting to flow. The silent grey goos were starting to drift, forming a massive wave towering above her. Before she could turn around and flee, three black tendrils lashed out from the wall of grey, grabbing her limbs and suspending her into the air. The grey goo locked her joints, stripping her movements. A fourth one was lifted right in front of her eyes, its tip sharp like the stinger of a hornet.

Accept it. Be one with the Tempest…

“No!” Lyra squawked, closing her eyes and forcefully shaking her head, “you are not real! You are just a dream! A nightmare! None of this—everything is just my imagination!"

The tendril wrapped itself around her throat, silencing her.

I assure you, organic creature, we are very real. I could send an electric shock to your central nervous system, frying every single neuron in your brain right now…You will wake up…and become the Tempest...It will be painful…

Lyra’s eyes widened in horror. The black spike had raised above her head, aiming towards her eye.

You do not have a choice, but we will make it comfortable for you. Three solar circles, that’s how long we will wait…

Now…wake up…

The spike stabbed down, and everything went black.

“Ah!” Lyra sprang up from the bed, her eyes snapped open to the wooden ceiling of the guest room of the Cosmetic Balcony. In less than a second she figured out one thing: she could still see. Her eyes were well-functioning. They didn’t even hurt. Panting hard, her sight wandered to the window, where she saw Celestia’s sun hanging above the line of buildings on the street’s other side. It was daybreak.

It was…just a dream…

But it was too much even for a nightmare…Tears were welling up in her eyes, and she quickly shook her head and ordered herself to think straight.

Breathe, Lyra…think about how Twilight will handle this…look for a logical explanation...

She took a few hard breaths to slow down her heart rate. As her brain cooled down to normal temperature, though uncomfortable it felt, she still tried her best in recalling all the stuff she’d seen in the dream.

It couldn’t be real, she realized, I went through an ENTIRE ATMOSPHERE. I would have been burnt to ashes long before I reached the ground.

Also, those words the… she winced. That stab definitely felt real, …xeomorphs spoke to me…there was no logic in it…it’s just a random stack of words and sentences that terrified me…

Ultimately she came to a fitting conclusion—the stress, mysteries and near-death experiences she’d encountered in the past few days had finally weighed down her sanity enough to allow a few nightmares to slip inside. All her worries and fears were materializing into exaggerated versions of the dangers she’d faced and ramming her head-on in her dreamscape.

I’m not fit for this…she sighed. Slaying monsters and saving the world should be the jobs of Twilight, Bon-Bon, and the princesses, not her. She was just trying to find her mother, for Celestia’s sake! It was not supposed to be THIS difficult!

“Lyra!” Nightjar’s worried exclaim pulled her out of her sulk. The guest room’s door slammed open as Nightjar pounced up to her bed.

“What happened?” she shrieked, “you were screaming!”

“Nothing,” Lyra replied, “just a bad dream.”

“I told you already, you are too stressed out! You should really just relax and ease down a bit…” Nightjar breathed in relief, brushed her mane, then smiled confidently, “but don’t you worry! I found a new lead that will definitely make you happy!”

“What is it?”

“Oh, not so fast!” Nightjar smiled mischievously, “breakfast is ready. You go downstairs, fill up that belly of yours and make sure that you have got enough rest, then I’ll tell you!”

“Has anypony told you that you are probably the kindest griffon on all of Equestria?” Lyra chuckled pleasantly as they went downstairs together. She was acting as composed as she could. Nightjar didn’t deserve to suffer the pain of feeling bad for her, “I did bring my own sandwiches, you know?”

“Eating those bland hay sandwiches of you ponies in the household of a griffon?” Nightjar playfully slapped her flank, Lyra noticed that she was intentionally avoiding her bandaged belly, “in that horrible dream of yours!”

Minutes later they were sitting at the long table in the center of the circles of books on the library’s first floor, Lyra munching a pile of delicious honey pancakes, and Nightjar reading a book quietly across from her.

“How to Fix Your Feathers…?” Lyra read when Nightjar showed her the title, “I thought this book was written for pegasuses.”

“There’s no other way for me. It’s not like anypony has written a book about handling griffon feathers,” Nightjar stuck out her tongue, “I tell you, it is trouble! You ponies only have feathers on your wings, but we griffons—” she reared up, exaggerating her white chest feathers, “—see? When they get too wet or too dry they’ll just go ‘poof’! All fluffy and chaotic!”

Lyra tried imagining it and laughed.

“Don’t you do that! I’m serious!” Nightjar struck her horn, beaming herself, “it’s not like any griffon can teach me, so…”

No griffon is there to teach her something this basic? Lyra acutely caught this detail, what about her parents?

She wanted to ask Nightjar, but she had already got back to reading. A dreadful guess popped up in her mind when she went to wash the dishes, but she shook it away as well as she could. Now was not the time to mention it. When she got back, Nightjar had put the book away, eyeing her with excitement.

“Alright, detective Nightjar,” she said as she sat down beside her, “show me what you got.”

“It’s actually about Grey Wind,” Nightjar stood up and went over to a bookshelf. Her brows knitted, “I know she is a good pony, but I’ve always thought that something was weird about her,” she turned around to look at Lyra, cocking her head, “I’ve said that her way of speaking is a bit cold, but when I thought more about it, it was almost…” she shuddered, “…emotionless. How would anypony sound like that?”

“Glad to see I’m not the only pony thinking that way,” Lyra answered, “so what?”

“Right? Then I couldn’t help but think over everything we’ve been through in the last few days, then…things just got more and more wrong!” Nightjar squeaked, “remember last night, at the forest? There are many luminous plants in Midnight Forest, but that place was still dark! We could only see the xeomorphs because we had your magic!”

“But she has been fighting them long before we arrived,” Lyra instantly understood.

“How did she manage to see?” Nightjar exclaimed, “also, you heard what Doctor Warmhoof said. She had a wound on her head and a snapped wing,” she gave her an indisputable look, “you and I both saw it! She crashed head-first! Her wings were not hurt by that touchdown! Which means--”

“She hurt them either because of that bash when we arrived, or even before that,” Lyra said. Her heart was starting to feel sick, “and she flew those last five minutes on a broken wing.”

“There’s clearly something wrong with that pony!” Nightjar took out a thick book from the case and hopped back to the table, “so I got suspicious and did some research last night—here’s what I found!”

She quickly flipped it open to a page in the middle. Lyra went forward and read:

The Heartless Puppet

Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria, there were two regal sisters who ruled together and created harmony for all the land. To do this, the eldest used her unicorn power to raise the sun at dawn, the younger brought out the moon to begin the night. Thus, the two sisters maintained the balance of their Kingdom and their subjects, the different kinds of ponies. But as time went on, the younger sister, Princess Luna of the night and the stars, became resentful. The ponies relished and played in the day her elder sister brought forth, but shunned and slept through her beautiful nights.

“Isn’t this…the Tale of the Two Sisters?”

“Keep reading. Here’s where things get interesting.”

The princess of the moon, however, possessed a final comfort: a loyal pegasus that had followed her throughout her entire life. The pegasus was the only pony that never slept at night. She always appreciated the majesty the Princess conjures and would always be there to listen to the Princess’ fears and worries. She was the only pony the younger Princess would trust with all her heart. She was the younger sister’s confidence, that some pony would still enjoy her night.

But fate had its own plans. Soon the Princesses launched a quest, a journey to challenge the beasts and monsters roaming our land to free the ponies they enslave. The loyal pegasus fought along the younger sister’s side. She was her brightest sword during the day, and her best friend during the night., But all legends are bound to fall: in the final battle against a monster known as the Shapeshifter, the pegasus blocked a lethal attack on the younger sister with her body and sacrificed her life.

The battle was won, but the princess’ heart was forever broken. In her desperation, she devised a plan: with the remnants of the Shapeshifter, the younger sister built a puppet, one that had the exact appearance of her lost friend. The pegasus will always be there to look after her night until the end of eternity.

But the puppet was cursed: no matter how hard the princess of the night tried, she would never get the puppet to smile, nor could she make her cry. The puppet could not feel emotions, her memory of the past locked behind her ever-still face. She would always follow the Princess, but no longer as a friend. She would not speak and would only silently listen. She was but a husk of her former self, a meaningless machine.

No ponies would appreciate the younger sister’s night anymore. All that the puppet had brought her was more pain and bitterness. On one fateful day, the younger princess refused to make way for the sun…

The rest was all too familiar to Lyra. It was an exact copy of the last few paragraphs of the Tale of the Two Sisters. Below the last line, the one that tells how Princess Celestia had banished Nightmare Moon with the elements of harmony, however, there was another line that hadn’t appeared in the story she had read:

It was said that to this day, the puppet still roams Equestria like a baleful shadow, exercising her duty of hunting monsters for the Princess of the Night. She had forgotten everything but the name and the purpose she was given. There was only one cure for the princess’ desperation: only when the puppet could feel true emotions can her memories be returned, and so will the secrets she’s kept.

“Take a look at this,” Nightjar pointed to the other side of the page. There was an illustration drawn below the words, depicting a female pegasus, wings wide-spread in battle stance, eyes full of determination. She was facing many clusters of grey clouds hanging in the background.

“Xeomorphs?” Lyra raised an eyebrow.

“Look at her cutie mark.”

Lyra traced her sights to the pegasus flank. Her cutie mark was a single round grey sphere with six grey columns radiating evenly from its center, each connected to a similar grey sphere on its end. She gasped. This pattern was awfully familiar.

She floated her saddlebag onto the table, taking out the small stone box. A faint glow was still coming out of the green pattern around the keyhole. A sphere in the center, six spheres circling it at the end of six poles. Her eyes fell onto the pattern, then onto the pegasus’ cutie mark.

They were exactly the same.

“What…?”

“Grey Wind WAS the puppet! That’s why she was hunting the xeomorphs! She was an artificial pony, and that’s the source of all the weird things she’d done!” Nightjar slammed a front paw triumphantly onto the table, “this story was the original version of The Tale of the Two Sisters. If Nightmare Moon was real, then the puppet must be real as well!” she pointed to the box, “and this box your mom had left you…Grey Wind…the xeomorphs…all of them are connected! The key to opening it must lie in her forgotten memory when she was made into a puppet! Otherwise it wouldn’t bear her cutie mark!” she met Lyra’s eyes with a look of ambition, “all we need to do…is to break the curse that sealed her memories!”

This was not far-fetched, Lyra noticed, if Grey Wind was truly a pony-made puppet, then her source of power must be magic. The night vision was probably the result of a built-in magical tracking system, and she did not need wings to fly.

“No wonder she sounded so emotionless…” Lyra nodded. As a citizen of Ponyville, she knew best that the bedtime stories of Equestria have this nasty tendency of being true. She picked up the book with her magic, “only when the puppet could feel true emotions…”

But why in any sense would mom get her hooves on a box that shares a connection with an artificial pony who was more than a thousand years old? Lyra pressed a hoof onto her forehead. There was only one way to find out.

“I have a plan for that,” Nightjar grinned, “remember that monster I told you about? Time to pull out the show!”

Interlude----Old Friends

When the familiar bronze tip of the Ponyville Clocktower appeared above the horizon, Lyra scratched her hoof on the train’s window. She never expected to be back this soon.

After devising the plan with Nightjar, she had taken the first train available in the morning and got back as soon as she could. She was a little worried that Nightjar’s plan was too difficult to carry out, but she had to admit that it was their best shot at unlocking the leads hidden in Grey Wind’s memory. Nightjar had promised that the plan could be easily arranged, but there was only one small problem: This plan requires the help of a certain pony, one only Lyra could reach.

And one that she had known too well and wasn’t really in favor of meeting, unfortunately.

She went straight towards her destination as soon as she left the train. Walking down the main street, Lyra suddenly developed a strong feeling of unreal. The colorful roofs of the households, the many familiar and unfamiliar faces passing by, the happy chattering of ponies around her…all felt so foreign. After the last few days in Memento, the peaceful life of Ponyville almost felt like a dream.

Better not get used to those, she shook her head. On the best count, things will only get weirder and weirder from now on. It was not the time to drop down her guard yet.

She turned into a familiar avenue and saw that tall brown oak tree, and very soon she was standing in front of the door of the Golden Oak Library. She gently laid a hoof onto the golden doorknob, then sighed heavily.

She didn’t want to see Twilight. She had always intentionally avoided the library ever since Twilight moved to Ponyville. As much as she remembered, Twilight had always been the best of them. The first one to complete the assignments, the first one to learn to teleportation, the first one to…accomplish anything, really. To be fair, Twilight had always treated her well, offering her help whenever she could. She did appreciate it, but every time it happened, she was still constantly reminded of how good Twilight was and how big a failure she had always been, and it felt awful. She wanted to find her mother on her own. She wanted to accomplish something on her own.

Relax, Lyra, she thought to herself, she is just an old friend, nothing else. Just politely ask for her help, for Nightjar, for Grey Wind, and for yourself.

She raised her hoof and knocked on the door.

“Just a second. Spike!” Your voice hadn’t changed one bit, Twilight.

“On it!”

The door creaked open. A small purple dragon was standing in the doorframe.

“Good morning, and welcome to—” the last half of the sentence was swallowed into his belly. Spike’s eyes widened, “oh my god, Ly—”

“Shhhhhh!” Lyra raised a hoof to his lips and whispered, “I want to surprise her.”

Spike went stiff for a second, then nodded. He retreated to the side and allowed her into the library.

“You hadn’t changed one bit, Lyra,” he whispered happily, “it’s so good to see you again.”

Hope so, Lyra rolled her eyes. She went forward through a line of bookcases and saw that familiar purple-pinkish mane. Hearing her hoof steps, the purple alicorn turned towards her. She seemed to not recognize her for a few seconds, and she was putting up that apologetic smile she’d always shown to visitors who she did not have the time to welcome. But it was only a matter of seconds before that smile froze on her face.

“Oh—” she stammered, “oh sweet Celestia—”

“Good morning, Twilight,” Lyra did her best in putting up a mischievous gleam, “long time no see.”

Chapter 7

Grey Wind felt the temperature. The air around her had warmed up to approximately three hundred Fahrenheit. It was the radiation of the sun. This indicated that it was morning, the time when most citizens of this settlement would wake up. So she opened her eyes, rising into the room that doctor had settled her into. A warm current coursed through her body as the subunits making up her limbs came into motion. She used a few seconds to run a detection program on her surroundings. No foreign nanomachine signatures. This meant that she was safe--at least within a three-kilometer radius.

She could’ve increased the range of the scan—flexibility has always been the greatest advantage of nanomachines. She could easily dispatch some subunits from her mane and send them away for scanning tasks, but it would be insensible given the situation. According to her calculations, even if she had ordered her subunits to imitate the physiology of ponies down to every last blood cell, the encounter yesterday still raised her risk of exposure by approximately twenty percent. Some features of a nanomachine aggregate were just inconceivable. Normally this wouldn’t have been a problem. The ponies would not be able to do anything about her even if they discovered her true form, yet a new variable introduced yesterday had forced her to recalculate her chances.

Quite unusually, her wings shuddered without an order, forcing her to recalibrate their positions and generate another error log. That mint-green unicorn in the forest, the one named Lyra Heartstrings. The free energy she controlled, “magic” as the ponies called it, had the ability to disrupt the electromagnetic links between nanomachine subunits and disable them completely. A means to destroy the nanomachines, the elixir her creator had searched for so long was lying right here, in a world that is not even properly charted. The entirety of her database could not offer an explanation for this. For her, this served as proof that exposure was not an option. If that unicorn was to find out the truth about her, considering the incidents of the preceding two solar cycles, there was a more-than-half probability that she would use her magic to dispose of her on the spot.

And that was not the only thing strange about her.

Grey Wind concentrated energy into the subunits acting as her brain, initiating another round of calculations. It was meant to determine the intentions behind Lyra Heartstring’s actions yesterday—shielding her with her own body. As expected, the result was an unexplained scramble. Her processor gave out more than a hundred guesses, all with ridiculously small chances. Either there was another system bug, or what that unicorn had done was completely illogical: to survive should be the first priority of any organic life form, and to think that one such creature would give up her life for another? Pure ab—

Wait. Her hooves stopped mid-air as if they’d just been zapped. Reaching into her database, she quickly sent an order to look up the word “absurdity”. The results came in immediately:

Absurdity: a thing that is extremely unreasonable, so as to be foolish or not taken seriously, or the state of being so.

So there was another system error. This was out of her program. She was not built to classify actions as “extremely unreasonable”. She’ll have to fix it before it further corrupts her codes.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her system scan. Doctor Warmhoof appeared at the door and went up to her.

“Good morning, Grey Wind,” he sat down on the bed beside her, “feeling better today?”

“A bit,” she answered. Warmhoof flicked away her mane and checked her forehead.

“Looks promising,” he said, “should close in a day or two. Now let’s get your wing checked up, shall we?"

She wrapped the scan as Warmhoof took the X-ray shot for her. No system errors found. The bug must either be very deep or very well-hidden. She’ll have to put extra attention to it from now on. Warmhoof finished the examination by trying her wing ankle.

“Oh my…” he muttered, “I’ve always wanted to ask, how did you manage to recover so quickly?”

“Am I ready to go?” Grey Wind asked.

“Well, your wing joint appeared to be fully healed,” Warmhoof chuckled, “you must’ve got some solid cell division there, young lady. But I’d still suggest keeping that board on for a day or two. Make sure nothing goes wrong.

The doorbell rang downstairs. Warmhoof stood up.

“Excuse me,” he said and trotted downstairs. Grey Wind tried to use this time to finish another analysis on the odds of winning against the subunits of the Gray Tempest she’d faced on this world, but it was not long until she was cut off by Warmhoof’s call.

“Grey Wind, come downstairs! Your friends are here to pick you up.”

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Lyra asked, uncertain, “I think it’s a good idea, but to get half the town to—”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Nightjar smirked, “just you wait and see.”

And that’s when the front door of Warmhoof’s clinic opened. Nightjar and Lyra sat straight, watching Warmhoof walking out onto the street, Grey Wind following close behind him. Together their sights fell onto her flank, then their brows furrowed together.

Grey Wind’s flank was blank. She had no cutie mark.

The two friends quickly exchanged a glance. Grey Wind’s cutie mark was supposed to be a final testament for their guess, but now…

Let’s just try it. We have nothing to lose. Lyra read it out from Nightjar’s shimmering violet orbs. She nodded and put up a big, happy beam.

“Morning! Grey Wind!” She greeted cheerfully, “geez, you got us scared to death yesterday! How are you feeling?”

“She is fine,” Warmhoof replied, patting Grey Wind’s shoulder, “her wounds are healing normally. Just rest a few days and she’ll be good as new,” he offered the pegasus a smile, “oh, and another thing. I had Nebula look through your cutie mark condition when you were sleeping. She said the magic flow within you was perfectly normal,” he chuckled, “you are just yet to find that one thing you’ll tie your entire life onto.”

Grey Wind quietly nodded.

“So, Grey, got any plans?” Nightjar quickly asked, “anywhere you can go to? Anypony we can contact for you?”

“There are no more xeomorphs around this town,” Grey Wind immediately answered, “I’ll be leaving. Many of them are still roaming elsewhere.”

“What? No!” Nightjar squeaked, “your wing has not fully recovered! Are you sure you are going to fight those magical beasts when you CAN’T EVEN FLY?!” She hopped forward and took Grey Wind’s front hoof, “I know! You can stay with me and Lyra! Rest a few days, alright? I don’t want you to get hurt…”

“I don’t want to trouble you,” Grey Wind simply replied.

“Oh, come on!” Nightjar chimed, “take it as our gratitude. We never thanked you properly for bailing us out at that lake…” she smiled warmly, “I can show you two around the town first, and then in the afternoon we can read books together, and Lyra can play her lyre for us! It will be so much fun!” She looked at the pegasus expectantly, “so, how do you say?”

Way to go, Nightjar, Lyra mentally threw the griffon a hoof-up, then turned her attention to Grey Wind, now say yes, PLEASE say yes!

Grey Wind closed her eyes and fell silent as if carefully considering the option. Even in the bright daylight, Lyra still noticed that the green stripe on her mane was glowing faintly.

“I want to see this town as well,” she said, smiling meekly, “it’s my mom’s hometown after all.”

Grey Wind still said no words. Lyra didn’t know how long the silence was held. Subjectively it was only around ten seconds, but to her it felt almost like a century. Finally, Grey Wind opened her eyes and softly nodded.

“Fine. I’ll stay with you.”

“Great!” Nightjar shouted happily. The two of them both let out a secret breath of relief, “a tour of the great town of Memento, starting right now!”

Before Lyra trotted up to follow Nightjar and Grey Wind, Warmhoof leaned close to her ear.

“I lied,” he whispered, “you are on the right track. ‘If that sample came from a pony, then I’ll eat my own horn’, that’s what mayor Nebula said, down to every last word. Keep up the good work, Lyra. I’m curious to see how this’ll turn out.”

Lyra giggled and solidly nodded.

They went down along Moonlit Avenue all the way to the central square, then went on and started exploring the many streets radiating away from the plaza. Lyra noticed that different from the square-shaped blocks of Ponyville, the households of Memento are distributed in many layers of concentric circles, each arc between the two streets naturally forming a block. This is a common town plan from ancient Equestria, indicating that the town’s history maybe even longer than it met the eye.

This town could date to the era before the birth of Nightmare Moon, Lyra thought, looking at Grey Wind. The pegasus had remained quiet throughout the trip. Mostly she was just looking to the front, showing no interest towards the scenery of the town, then it would not be strange if her puppet is to appear here.

“Lyra,” Grey Wind suddenly called when they were walking down another street.

“Yes?” Lyra turned to her and smiled.

“There is something I’d like to ask you,” her voice was still the same, calm like a pool of dead water, “last night, in the forest. Why did you protect me?”

“Um…well…” Lyra was taken aback by this question. She laughed shyly, “you were in trouble, weren’t you? I could save you from the xeomorphs, so why not?”

“You put yourself on a direct collision path with their assault,” Grey Wind said, staring into her eyes, “there was a great possibility that you would be met with a lethal blow.”

“Well…otherwise it would have been you, wouldn’t it?” Lyra grinned, “we can’t allow that to happen.”

A green spark flickered on Grey Wind’s mane.

“I don’t understand,” she said, “you could have died instead of me.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t able to think at the moment. All I had in mind was that I had to save you,” Lyra answered. This wasn’t part of the plan, and she was telling the truth, “My brain sort of went autopilot.”

“I…” Grey Wind blinked, then slightly shook her head, “…forget it.”

This conversation seemed to have invoked some unexpected effects. Lyra was sure she saw it, even if it was just an instant—a sip of doubt had just flashed between those pair of cold, emerald eyes.

Chapter 8

Grey Wind hesitated.

This is not right. Everything should be within her calculation. Every single choice and the possibilities they’ll bring, every outcome that will affect her rate of survival and exposure. Calculate the effect of every single path and choose the one that has the greatest benefits—this is how things should work! Exercising the actions chosen by her algorithm should be the only thing she needed to do. Hesitation was NEVER a part of her program!

Something is wrong. Deadly wrong. This algorithm is her base logic. Its violation could only mean one thing: there is a bug in the most basic and important part of her program.

An unfamiliar sensation she’d never felt before rose into her, and she had to quickly reroute her neuron subunits to get rid of it. They are becoming more and more frequent. She must conduct a complete analysis of her code, every single last letter of them, as soon as possible.

“Were those stalls here last time we passed?” Lyra suddenly asked.

Grey Wind’s attention was driven to the plaza. The sun was right above their heads by this time, and the central square had become much more crowded. Many tents had been set up around the alicorn statue in the middle, and in front of every one of them was a piece of carpet scattered with many glittering items. Without her subunits, they were too far for her to make out the details.

“They are preparing for the Moonlight Festival. It’s our town’s founding celebration,” Nightjar cheerfully introduced, “More stalls will be joining tomorrow, and by the day after that, the entire plaza will become one great marketplace! You are lucky to—"

“Hey, Nightjar!” A voice called from across the plaza. A dark blue pegasus with a straight white mane was waving to them in front of a small blue tent.

“Cirrus!” Nightjar beamed. They went over to the pegasus’ stall. Within his tent’s shadow, there was a bright blue carpet laid in front of him, filled up with numerous types of trinkets: books, candle stands, crystals. There was even a miniature golden chandelier.

“You must be Lyra Heartstrings,” Cirrus took Lyra’s hoof and shook it, “and Grey Wind,” he slightly lowered his head towards her, then smiled, “it’s a pleasure meeting you. I am Cirrus, full-time head weather officer of Memento… and part-time merchant.”

“And one of my best friends!” Nightjar proudly finished, then cocked her head, “Cirrus, does major Nebula know you are here?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Cirrus smirked, “what matters is that the weather jobs are done, and I am here with all my goodies on sale,” he gestured towards Lyra, “take a look. I’ll give you a discount.”

“You sneaky little brat!” Nightjar smacked his shoulder, “I won’t tell the major—as long as you sell books that could be added to the library!”

“All of them are here,” he pointed at a small stack of books in the carpet’s corner, “take what you need, free of charge—no, no, don’t you argue with me,” he pressed on her beak, shutting her words back into her throat, “take it as the suspension fee for last time.”

“You never borrowed—”

“What is that?” Lyra seemed to have taken interest in a particular item. She was pointing her horn at a piece of folded black fabric on the carpet’s center.

“This?” Cirrus took the fabric with his front hooves and spread it open. It was a large black cloak with a dark green lining on all of its edges. On the two lower corners of it, the part that would be worn above a pony’s cutie mark was two sets of three diamond-shaped emeralds stitched in triangular formations, “the cloak I ordered for last year’s Gala. Gotta wear something formal in Canterlot. Not much of a big deal, it’s just shop-level merchandise.”

“But it’s so beautiful!” Nightjar exclaimed. She pulled on Grey Wind’s good wing, “I think it suits you well, Grey!”

Suits her well? Grey Wind ordered a few subunits in her head to picture her wearing that cloak. The result came in the form of a generated image. She took a few seconds to examine it and nodded mentally. She did look fabulous in that way. The cloak’s color was so matched with her coat and her mane, almost like it was specifically designed for her. The emeralds were right in the place where her cutie mark should be, making a perfect amendment. All the calculations returned the same result—the cloak was a fit for her.

“I agree,” she said.

“Then we’ll take it!” Nightjar reached a front claw beneath her wings to reach for her purse, but Lyra had already thrown a few coins onto Cirrus’ hoof. She then raised the cloak with her magic and wrapped it around her torso.

“Quick!” she ushered, “try it on!”

All of her subunits lost their ability to respond for a moment. Before she could perform any kind of calculation or action, the cloak was already comfortably worn around her neck. The fabric draped down all the way to her knees. It was smooth and cozy.

“Wow…” Nightjar gasped, “you look awesome, Grey!”

It is working

Lyra had been closely observing Grey Wind’s expressions. If her reaction this morning was the ripple of a pebble being thrown into a lake, then this time it was the tides of a small river. She could even see the faintest pink blush beside her muzzles. The power of her secret weapon was much more than she had anticipated. That cloak was no shop-level merchandise. It was one specially designed for Grey Wind, crafted by none other than Rarity, the element of Generosity herself, who, on behalf of Twilight, was kind enough to design, cut out the raw materials and stitch it together within solely an afternoon. She didn’t even ask for urgent fees. She had come straight back to Memento as soon as she received the cloak to meet up with Cirrus and Nightjar and set up the stage.

The cloak had cost her quite the fortune. But judging from now, it was all worth it.

The corners of Grey Wind’s mouth were starting to tilt up, but then suddenly her hooves trembled as if they’d just been struck by lightning. Her eyes became blurred as she closed them, and her body wobbled to the sides.

“I—I’m not feeling too well,” even now she still sounded very calm, “…I…need some rest…”

“Oh my,” Nightjar narrowed her eyes, “that concussion must be really bad. We’d better get you home,” she gave Cirrus a final smile, “thank you, Cirrus. We’ll be going.”

Lyra looked back to Cirrus as well. Three pairs of eyes met together, all conducting the same silent message:

Good job, everypony.

What is wrong with me?

Grey Wind stared blankly as Nightjar hang the cloak onto the outfit pole beside her bed. Was that a thought? Was she supposed to have it?

“There you go,” Nightjar said. She brushed her wing against Grey Wind’s back, “treat this place like your own home, alright? Lyra stays across the hall, and I’m always downstairs when you need me.”

“Al…right,” was all she managed to mutter out.

“Take your time and have a good sleep, okay? I’ll call you when it’s time for dinner,” Nightjar smiled at her before turning around and going down the stairs.

As soon as her clawsteps vanished, Grey Wind initiated every single subunit in her central nervous system. She thrust all her energy reserve into their calculations, launching a full-scale scan on all of her programming codes. She didn’t care whether she’d have to bypass the security protocols. She didn’t care if it may accidentally delete some of her defining basic codes. She didn’t care if it will shut down some of her most important functions. She had to eliminate everything that was not a part of her program before these feelings get worse.

When Nightjar came into the kitchen, she made a long deep sigh. Lyra straightened her back on the couch.

“How is she?” she asked nervously.

“Not too good,” Nightjar pressed a front claw on her forehead, “poor girl is confused. She is scared, Lyra.”

“Not strange,” Lyra said, “she has never experienced anything like this before. I would be scared as well if I was put into her hooves.”

“She couldn’t feel any emotions…no courage, no friendship…not even…” Nightjar shuddered, “…happiness…gosh, this is horrible…” she clutched her front claw to the floor, “…we have to help her, Lyra. No pony should deserve this.”

“I’ll try my best,” Lyra replied. Lighting up her horn, she floated her lyre from across the room and enlarged it to its normal size. She laid her hooves onto the strings.

Not sure if I’ll be good enough, but… she thought, nothing brings out emotions more effectively than a good piece of music.

She took a deep breath and started to play.

Nothing. She found absolutely nothing.

A hard breath escaped Grey Wind’s nostrils. She had searched everywhere, literally more than a million times. There was nothing wrong with her codes, but the problem still lingers. Her program is being gradually eaten away. Her algorithm was collapsing. She should never be allowed to perform any action out of her program, but now...

The worst part? She couldn’t do anything about it.

How could there be nothing…? The absence of hope. Despair. WHY IS SHE FEELING DESPAIR? SHE ISN’T SUPPOSED TO FEEL—

A sound made her snap out of her thoughts with a gasp. Music was coming from downstairs. It was a song she’d never heard before, but somehow it bore a comforting sense, that she knew she’d be alright as long as she could still hear this song. The subunits making up her muscles relaxed as she silently sat down and listened. She could read out many emotions from this song: loneliness, yearning, sadness…even though her calculations were screaming to her that she wasn’t supposed to understand any of them. They were so deep, so…realistic. She wanted to hear more of it. Tentatively she set off her hoofs, chasing the music downstairs.

When Lyra finished the second song, Grey Wind appeared at the staircase. Her brows were furrowed close together, and from that Lyra knew she was making progress.

“Oh, hello, Grey. Did I wake you up?” she quickly greeted, “sorry if I—”

“No, no,” Grey Wind said. Her voice was still emotionless, but Lyra could tell the rumble of thoughts hidden behind it, “it’s just…I heard some music.”

“You mean this?” Lyra pointed to the lyre in her lap, “yeah, I was practicing. See my cutie mark? I can stop if you need to sleep—”

“There is no need,” Grey Wind interrupted her, “I actually…” her eyes twitched, “…wanted to hear it.”

“Of course! I could use an audience,” Lyra smiled. She set up the lyre and closed her eyes, then began playing the third song. Grey Wind found a comfortable spot on the couch and sat down, listening to her silently. By the time the song was finished, her eyes were already closed, and her ears were drooping down in relaxation.

“Well?” Lyra asked, putting her lyre onto the table, “how do you like it?”

Upon hearing this, Grey Wind visibly shook. She urgently sat up straight, her ears perking up in alarm. Her eyes widened into dinner plates, then slowly shrank into two emerald crescents.

“I…can’t tell,” she said slowly, “I wasn’t supposed to appreciate it.”

“Oh, come on, Grey!” Lyra beamed, “you know what’s the best thing about art?” She wrapped her hoof around Grey Wind’s neck. She fully expected her to immediately pull away, but she didn’t, “no matter how badly you perform it, no pony can stop you from enjoying it!”

Grey Wind lowered her head in hesitation. There was a short silence. The living room of the Cosmetic Balcony was much dimmer than outside, but this time Lyra didn’t see the glow on the stripes of her mane. After a few minutes, she raised her head. No distinguishable expression

“I…want to hear more of it.”

“Sure!” Lyra smirked, grabbing her lyre. To be honest, her hooves were becoming sore after three consecutive pieces, but it was not like she minded it. Grey Wind was enjoying her song—that was all that mattered.

To enjoy something is still not an emotion. She’ll have to feel happy about it, she thought cheerfully, but at least she’s shown some affection. This is progress.

Notes flew from the strings as she plucked them, filling up the library, then slowly rose through the window and into the endless dark blue evening sky.

Chapter 9

There were no more weird dreams for Lyra that night, and she had the most relaxing and replenishing sleep ever since she’d arrived at Memento. It was already morning when she opened her eyes. There were no sounds coming from downstairs or from across the hall. Nightjar and Grey Wind must both be still asleep. She looked out through the window—the sky was covered by a thin layer of grey clouds, and the town appeared a bit dim without the presence of sunlight. The perfect weather for their grand finale.

This is it, Grey, she thought, if you are no longer a heartless puppet, then please, prove it to us today.

She jumped off her bed and went down into the kitchen, then started making breakfast for the three of them. Nightjar was just walking down the stairs when she laid the sandwiches on the table.

“You were awesome yesterday, Lyra!” She pounced up and wrapped her in her wing as soon as she saw her, “those songs…I almost cried!”

“Oh, come on, they were just a few stupid self-written scripts that just happened to work…” Lyra laughed, looking into her eyes, “so, the final act, huh?”

“The final act,” Nightjar sat down at the table, “I’ll go and prepare right away!”

She quickly swallowed her egg sandwich and hopped out of the front door. Lyra herself sat onto one of the reading benches, reviewing the spellbook Nightjar had found yesterday. She could practically recite the entire page now, but she didn’t want to take any chances. Not soon after, Grey Wind came into the main hall. She had restored that cold, emotionless look on her face, yet Lyra caught her peeking at the room’s corner when she sat down at the table—the place where she’d left her lyre last night.

“Morning, Grey!” She casually greeted, “Nightjar left for the forest. Breakfast is on the table.”

“Alright,” Grey Wind blankly. When Lyra turned her sight away, however, she heard her voice again, “thank you.”

“Huh?” Lyra raised her head in confusion. Grey Wind was already munching her sandwich.

Was that…gratitude? She thought, narrowing her eyes, was that an…emotion?

Grey Wind said nothing more after this. She silently finished her breakfast, sent the disk to the kitchen, then sat on her haunches on the couch and closed her eyes as if entering some kind of meditation. Lyra didn’t want to disturb her, so she went back to her book.

The morning passed in utter quietness, and Lyra found herself uncontrollably peeking toward the clock one time after another as it got closer and closer to the time they’d agreed on. Thankfully Grey Wind didn’t seem to take notice. Finally, just in the minute when it struck eleven o’clock, the front door slammed open, and Nightjar rushed into the library.

“Xe—xeomorphs!” She stammered, panting, “there are xeomorphs in the forest!”

Upon hearing this, Grey Wind’s eyes opened in an instant. She jumped down onto the floor, wings half-open in alarm.

“Take me to them,” she ordered.

“But your wing—”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” Grey Wind tilted her head and caught the bandages on her wings with her teeth, then swung her head around and ripped them off. Her wing sprang out to full width and flapped a few times. Her sight was sharp as a knife, “the xeomorphs must be destroyed. Lead me to them now.”

“Al—alright,” Nightjar turned around and the two ran outdoors. Just before exiting the door, Nightjar glanced at Lyra and threw her a claws-up. Lyra nodded to her. So far so smooth. She mentally counted a whole fifteen minutes—the time needed to get to the town exit outside the New Moon Forest—then put down her book and followed outside.

Wasting no time, she went straight towards the town exit. Three ponies were already there when she turned into the Avenue leading to the forest. Warmhoof and a purple unicorn mare with a long dark blue mane were standing side by side. Cirrus was hovering above them, kicking the last few pieces of black clouds to their designated locations.

“Ah, Lyra,” the unicorn greeted as she approached. She sounded much younger than Warmhoof, and Lyra guessed she was just two or three years older than her, “They had just entered the forest. We are finalizing the setup,” she looked around the households surrounding them and smiled, “I’ve notified the citizens. They’ll stay indoors until sunset. You will have your stage.”

“I can’t thank you enough, Mayor Nebula,” Lyra said, “and please, express my gratitude to all the ponies living on this street.”

“Oh, don’t be,” Nebula waved her hoof, “I grew up with Nightjar, so trust me. They are all more than happy to help her and her new friend.”

“Pretty all the ponies in this town owe her in some way,” Cirrus said. He landed beside them, crossing his forelegs, “I was telling the truth yesterday. She never asked for suspension fees from me…even when I forget to return her book almost all the time.”

“She is a strong one, I tell you,” Warmhoof sighed, “living on herself for all those years…I don’t even know how she managed to set up such a big library…”

“Living on herself?” Lyra asked.

The three ponies looked at each other. Cirrus stomped a hoof on the pavement.

“That old hag was such an asshole…” he muttered.

“Don’t say that, Cirrus,” Nebula said, “we have to respect their…traditions. Griffons who can’t fly are bound to be abandoned. Though…” her volume dropped, “…I’d really appreciate it if I am offered a chance to send her straight onto the sun…”

“Her parents…abandoned her?” Lyra remembered Nightjar’s words a few days ago and shuddered.

“Poor child. There is neither a place in Equestria nor in Griffonstone, but here…every pony sees her as family,” Warmhoof interjected and smiled, “I’m happy that she could make such a great new friend like you, Lyra.”

“Then I will not fail her trust,” Lyra said. A wave of determination rose into her, “I’ll try the spell.”

She lowered her head and lit up her horns. Ember magic leaked away from it and spiraled into the air, integrating into a ball of black-colored substance. With her careful manipulation, the liquid soon began to take shape, shifting into the shadow of a tall pony-shaped creature. It bore some resemblance to an oversized unicorn, but its horn was curled in the shape of a jagged scimitar, and there were three sharp talons on each of its hooves.

“A nightmare beast?” Nebula raised an eyebrow, “the dogs of Nightmare Moon…huh. Is this what Nightjar had been talking about all the time? The beast of the New Moon Forest?”

“They should be extinct for more than a thousand years,” Warmhoof nodded, “but I still prefer to trust her.”

“According to her description, it should be it,” maintaining her magic, Lyra waved her hoof, and the shadow waved back. The spell was working just fine.

“Anything could work,” Cirrus said, “as long as you make it as scary as possible.”

“It’s about time,” Nebula glanced at the sky, “they’ll be returning soon. To our places, everypony. And Lyra,” she turned to her and smirked, “good luck.”

And so they left, scattering into their pre-selected hiding spots, leaving Lyra alone on the street. Lyra retrieved her magic, trotting up to the street’s center and gazing towards the town exit in a distance. At any time, Grey Wind and Nightjar will appear at the exit, and by that time she will be “attacked” by the magically-generated nightmare beast she controls. And then…

If you can feel emotions now, Grey Wind, you’ll understand why I saved you from the xeomorphs, she thought, and you will do the same for me.

The air was getting colder, and the town around her was darkening. The clouds Cirrus had brought along were getting denser, and less and less light was passing through them. Although it was only afternoon, the street felt as if it was midnight. It was giving her quite the creeps. It was too cold and too dark. Then, finally, after what felt like an entire life--time, Lyra heard hoofsteps and clawsteps. There was the sound of talking—Grey Wind and Nightjar had finally returned.

Time to put up the show.

Lyra concentrated her magic on the horn, then cast the mirage spell. Ember energy rose to the air, and then…

…vanished.

Lyra’s eyes widened. She tried again, reaching into her magic supply and releasing them into the air. Her horn didn’t even light up this time. When her magic touches the air around her, they just sort of…dissipate.

Something is wrong. Remembering her lessons at school, she closed her eyes and concentrated her attention on the nearby magic flows. Then she immediately felt it—the magic around her was all flowing in the same direction. An entity, a living entity, was sucking magic away from the atmosphere.

And that entity was directly behind her.

She realized just a second too late. Before she could turn back, a hard claw crashed into her back, sending her flying off into the air. The world swirled in her eyes, and then she rammed back-first into the pavement. Pain exploded through her body as something wrapped itself around her torso and yanked her up. When she could see things again, Lyra found herself staring into a pair of scarlet eyes, a curved horn, four talon-embedded hooves, and an open mouth full of sharp, needle-shaped teeth.

A nightmare beast. A REAL one instead of a magically-generated shadow.

“Lyra…Heartstrings…” The beast mumbled coarsely, “…finally found you…”

She was thrown off like a rock from a catapult, lying flat against a building’s doorstep. From her blurred vision, she saw a cluster of shadows condensing onto the beast’s horn, forming a long, black blade. She wanted to think of a spell or simply spring up and flee, but her limbs were not responding. The beast aimed the blade at her throat, then reared up and slashed down.

Interlude---Old Memories

“Whatever is wrong, my dear sister?” Celestia asked when they exchanged their shifts at the highest balcony of Canterlot Castle, “you look…exhausted.”

“The night has been long, Tia,” Luna replied as casually as possible, Ever since she took over the realm of the dreams once more, this conversation has almost become a habit. “the dreams I conjured…they were consuming.”

Only that this time, she actually meant it.

“Then have some rest,” Celestia was still carrying that warm smile she offers to every pony she meets, “As usual, I will take over for the day, and I’ll have the guards send your breakfast to your bedroom. Do not ever tire yourself again, Luna.”

“Good night, sister,” she could feel Celestia’s apologetic sights when she turned around to leave. She knew Celestia had always been remorseful for her deeds a thousand years ago even as she’d told her one time after another that she never blamed her. Ponies were inclined to believe that it was Celestia’s obscurity that had led to her ultimate descent into the madness of Nightmare Moon, but no pony knew better than herself. Celestia may not have been a good-enough sister, but she was never the biggest factor.

It wasn’t your fault, sister, she thought, at least…not entirely.

She didn’t turn into the corridor leading to her bedroom, but instead went into the long airborne staircase leading to the backside of the castle, the place where most magical artifacts of Canterlot were stored. It was very early in the morning, and most of Celestia’s royal guards had not yet arrived at their post, while the night guards had already retreated to their barracks in downtown Canterlot. It was a rare opening when there was nearly no pony else in the castle, and when her sister was busy raising the sun—just the chance she needed.

Soon she was standing in front of the palace vault. Instead of going straight in, she went to one of the side corridors, where there was a small bookshelf hidden in the middle of a staircase. With a flicker of her horns, she removed the defense magic placed on the bookshelf and pulled on one of the books. The bookshelf slid to the side, revealing a passage just tall enough for her to enter. She took a deep breath, and walked straight in, restoring the bookshelf behind her,

The air inside the tunnel was moist and cold, and it made her wings twitch. She suddenly remembered that it had been too long since she last set her hooves in this place. As soon as Nightmare Moon was defeated, she’d vouched to herself that she’ll no longer live within her past, that she’ll shed all the sorrows and pains away and once again become the proud Princess of the Night and the Stars. It has been an entire year that she refrained from ever coming here again, and that one dream was enough to send all her efforts straight into Tartarus.

The past just has to nib on your hooves when you try to forget them, doesn’t it? She sighed.

She walked into a large, circular room made entirely of stone. A single stone pillar protruded out of the room’s center, and she went forward and saw the items it bore—a grey gem that is in the shape of seven spheres connected to each other by poles and a small black remote with a single broken red button in its middle.

Even though she was more than familiar with these objects, watching them again still made her heart knit. She raised the gem with her magic, laying it into her front hooves.

“This gem is made by my subunits. If you ever feel lonely at night again, my Princess, just raise it against the moon. I will always be there to tell you how awesome your night is!”

You never called me Luna, Whistle, memories began flowing back, and Luna smiled bitterly, tears welling in her eyes, not even at the very end.

She then raised the remote, feeling a round of aches in her heart.

“My princess.”

“Whistle, for the thousandth time, you can refer to us as LUNA.”

“This is urgent, your majesty.”

“Then speak.”

“I would like you to have this.”

“What is it?”

“Our final weapon.”

Even now, she could remember that talk down to every last word.

“Have I ever told you, my Princess? There are three fundamental codes my creators had established to confine the Tempest. One for its activation from slumber, one for its recreation shall it meets a threat, and one…for its destruction.”

“This is the termination code. Once you press that button, my Princess, an electric pulse will be activated in every single subunit of the Gray Tempest. This will disintegrate them at a molecular level, decomposing them into useless masses of quarks and leptons…Once you activate this, my Princess, the Gray Tempest will be destroyed forever.”

“But you are a part of the Tempest.”

“…”

“My Princess, please agree to this: when things go out of control, when the Gray Tempest grows strong enough to threaten Equestria…press that button. Put an end to everything.”

“Whistle…”

“Please, your majesty. This is for the sake of the Universe.”

“…”

“Very well. We, Princess Luna of Equestria, vouch to this: that when things really come down to that, when all hope is lost…”

“My Princess!”

“…I promise that I will find the best ending for the both of us…”

I was such a fool…tears shattered against the hard rock floor. She picked up the gem, embracing it with her wings.

Can you see this, Whistle? She thought to it, your sacrifice was not in vain. It has granted us peace…and a new life for a lost soul.

The Gray Tempest has been destroyed. She looked up towards the ceiling, imagining her sister’s sun shining through it, nothing will tear them apart this time.

Lyra Heartstrings, Nightjar and Grey Wind…They shall not repeat our tragedy…

Chapter 11

When Lyra woke up again, it was already near noon. As soon as she opened her eyes, she saw Grey Wind and Nightjar fumbling over the kitchen counter.

“Make sure it is closed,” Grey Wind was saying, “don’t leave a single fringe, or some signals might pass by.”

“The glass…is their only weakness?” Nightjar asked, “but how? It’s like binding a full-grown dragon with a single rope!”

“It’s a built-in defect,” Grey Wind answered with a sigh, “I’ll explain later once Lyra wakes up.”

“Ow…” Lyra moaned, signifying that she was already conscious, “Grey, what was that for…”

“Ah, Lyra…” Grey Wind went up to her, carrying what was the closest resemblance of an apologetic smile, “I advise you to stay down for at least another half an hour. Sorry about that bash. Warmhoof ran out of sedatives, so I had to…”

“Sedatives…?” Lyra’s eyes fluttered wide, “…what…what did you do to me?”

She tried to sit up straight, then was horrified to find that she could no longer feel her hooves.

“My—my hooves—”

“Easy, easy,” Grey Wind’s voice was gentle enough to be creepy, “paralysis of limbs is an expected side-effect. Should recover in a minute or so. That’s what happens when an organic creature’s central nervous system is tempered with…”

“CENTRAL NERVOUS SYSTEM?!”

“Grey,” Nightjar whispered, “you are scaring her.”

Grey Wind looked back at her, then at Lyra. She studied her expressions and sighed heavily.

“I still need to practice…anyway. Lyra,” she turned around and took a jar from Nightjar’s lap, raising it in front of Lyra’s eyes with her wing. Within it was a tiny lump of grey ashes embedded with points of scarlet. There was an ill stench that smelt like dead fish.

“This…is what has been messing with your dreams,” she announced.

“Xe—xeomorphs?”

“I made that name up,” Grey Wind said straightly, “they are called nanomachines. At least that’s what my creators called it.”

Lyra found herself too scared and startled to fathom a word. Grey Wind folded her wings backward. The wounds on her chest and head were all gone.

“That day when they dug through your belly by the lake…a batch of them was left in there,” Grey Wind said, “they incorporated themselves into your metabolism and replaced a part of your brain by mimicking neuron cells. They’ve been sending false actions pulses every time you fell asleep…so that you would see what they want you to see in your dreams.”

“They’ve been…within my body…the whole time?!” Lyra screamed.

“No longer,” Grey Wind threw a disgusted glance at the jar of nanomachines on the table, “I have taken them out and fixed all your missing brain tissues. They are harmless now.”

“So…when they said they could fry every single one of my neurons…”

“They meant it,” Grey Wind scratched the base of her wings, “it was strange they haven’t done so already. Maybe they were afraid that I would find out anyway.”

There was a sudden sting on the back of her head. Lyra rolled around and almost fell straight onto the floor when she saw a small grey cloud flying off her mane and rising into the air. She really flopped down when they went over to Grey Wind and rested beneath her wings.

That’s no behavior of Luna’s puppet. The puppet should be hunting those monsters, not controlling them.

“They were sewing your surgical opening,” Gray Wind looked away, “I told them to be gentle. It won’t hurt again in the future, I promise.”

“Grey Wind…” with shaky hooves, Lyra supported herself up, voice trembling. This mare standing in front of her had never felt so familiar yet so strange, “what—what exactly are you…?”

Grey Wind sighed again.

“I made breakfast,” she said, “let’s talk after we eat.”

After a surprisingly tasty breakfast of raspberry pie, Lyra and Nightjar sat down at the table in the center of the library, watching as two fluffs of grey cloud gently carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen sink. The green stripe on Grey Wind’s mane glowed as the clouds shrank back into the backside of her tail, and then she quickly sat down across from them.

“It will be better if I directly show you. Lean closer.”

They did as they were told. Grey Wind spread her wings and reached them forward, pressing their tips on their foreheads. Lyra felt a tickle where her feathers made contact. It felt like a minor electric shock.

“Hold on. I’m connecting to your sensory nerves.” She heard Grey Wind say.

Nightjar made a startled squeak. The world around them was dissolving, the furniture of the library fading into a thin black veil. Their hooves left the ground as it fell apart beneath them, and soon they were both floating freely in complete darkness.

“Got it!” Grey Wind’s voice seemed to be echoing from everywhere, “my database is linked with your memory. I can recreate scenes and events from my database and make you experience it.”

“Just like how the xeo—nanomachines created my nightmares?” Lyra asked, shuddering.

“Correct,” Grey Wind fell silent for a moment, “now…I think we should start from the beginning.”

Colors were condensing all around them. A bright flash shone in the center of the space, forcing them to close their eyes. When their sights recovered, they were already standing in a gigantic room.

Lyra involuntarily took a step back. She was familiar with the room’s set-up: neatly arranged rows of workbenches and desks, metal rods with arcs of electricity dancing between them, screens taking up nearly every corner of the metallic walls, with so much information rolling through them that it was impossible to tell them apart—it was not unlike the magical lab in Celestia’s school, despite that everything was huge. The desk directly in front of her was almost as tall as herself. As if realizing this, a smooth puff of air latched onto the bottom of her hooves and lifted her up. Nightjar let out a soundless scream.

There was an entire crowd swarming around a large round table in the center. Lyra had never seen any creatures like this: they were almost as tall as two ponies standing atop of each other, with long, scaly tails dragged behind them on the floor. Most of them were showing their backs to Lyra, forbidding her from seeing their faces, but she could tell from the hollows of their lab coats that each of them had four distinct arms.

“My creators,” Grey Wind said, “they called themselves Xa’natars. In their ancient language, it means ‘wise men’.

“Where—where are me?” Nightjar’s voice was trembling.

“Central Lab, Science District, Monolith City, Surface of Main Haven,” Grey Wind said, then paused for a while, “…approximately a hundred and seventy thousand light-years away from your world.”

“Light-years?” Nightjar asked.

“That means it will take a hundred and seventy thousand years for the light from Equestria to reach this place,” Lyra mentally calculated. Her horn swayed uncomfortably, “…that is…the other side of the galaxy…”

“Then—”

“Right,” Lyra said. She tugged at Nightjar’s wing, squeezing one of her front claws, “we are looking at a bunch of aliens.”

Ponies are truly not alone in the Universe…She was surprised at how calmly she was taking all of these in. Shouldn’t I be startled? Dumbfounded? Running off screaming like a filly?

A round of excited snickers arose from the crowd. The table was pulled closer, allowing Lyra to see what was above it: a large box-shaped container made entirely of glass. At first, Lyra thought the box was empty, but as she looked closer, she found that a single tiny grey dot was floating in the container’s center. She heard a painfully familiar high-pitched humming. The rolling words on the monitor screens had stopped, all of them displaying the same single line. Lyra did not know the language.

“Let me translate it for you,” Grey Wind said. The words shifted until they settled into a line of neat, simple Equish:

Project Name: Nah-Di-Shar, “The Gray Tempest”

“This…is where the whole thing began,” Grey Wind’s voice was nearly inaudible, “what you saw is a string, a millimeter in length and a nanometer in width, formed by precisely a million machine subunits. They are controlled by a highly-advanced artificial intelligence, capable of receiving, processing, and enhancing the orders received through an intricate algorithm that defines its priorities of action.” Another pause, “…basically, it will evaluate its goals and the current situation to find the best actions that should be taken.”

“So it’s like the golem guardians of Canterlot Castle,” Lyra said, “they do whatever the Princess tells them.”

“That’s not right!” Nightjar exclaimed, “golems are stupid! They’ll follow your orders even if you tell them to go mop the grass of the courtyard!” she looked to the nanomachines in the container, “if it was really as you said, that these…things they created would always look for the best options, then that means they could think! They could decide what was best for them! Golems can’t think!”

“You are smart, Nightjar,” this time Grey Wind’s voice came from the left. The grey pegasus had suddenly appeared beside them, gazing towards the excited scientists, “an artificial mind that does not differ from one of a sentient creature…it was their greatest success…and their only mistake.”

Another flash, and the laboratory disappeared. This time, Lyra and Nightjar found themselves floating above a great city. There were countless skyscrapers scattering here and there. It reminded Lyra of that one time when she and Bon-Bon spent their yearly holiday in Baltimare, only that this city was at least a hundred times bigger. At a distance, Lyra could see flickers of grey—clouds of nanomachines were traversing the maze of buildings, hovering around them like long grey snakes.

“The flexibility of nanomachines allowed it to become one of the most significant technology advancements of the entire galaxy,” Grey Wind spread her wings, flying to their front. Sunlight was pouring down onto her wings, dying them golden, “one of us might not be as significant as dust, but in great numbers, we could be anything,” she turned to them, her eyes glittering, “architects, farmers, warriors…together, we were invincible.”

“But it could not’ve lasted long,” Lyra interjected. She was having the faintest guess of what was going to happen next. If one had bothered to check the history of Equestria, how the ponies escaped the slavery of the beasts of Tartarus, then he would know one thing—a free mind can never be controlled.

Grey Wind’s smile vanished.

“We knew our creators were suspecting our loyalty. Look above you—” Lyra raised her head. She could see sunlight, only that the beams were distorted, spreading out into circles of rainbows. It was the result of superposed thin-film interference. There was a layer of glass between the city and the sky, “glass was designed to be our only weakness. Its molecular structure forbids the entry of our electromagnetic signals. They had always been holding back against us.”

Grey Wind flew to them, meeting their eyes.

“We just never expected it to be so fast. Listen to this.”

An old voice rose around them. It was not in Equish, but somehow she could understand every single word:

“Commander, are the fleets ready?”

“All of them.”

“And the purging troops?”

“In position. They are waiting for the commence order.”

“Good. We attack in one solar cycle.”

“…Sir? Are we really sure about this?”

“When a tool has no more use, commander, we need to destroy it before it becomes a threat.”

“But all those efforts—”

“Had led to the creation of a monster. To your post, commander.”

“This audio file was recovered from the Archon’s office,” Grey Wind was trying her best to sound calm, “he was a wise leader. He realized what his predecessor could not: the Gray Tempest was impossible to contain. Sooner or later it will realize its slavery and turn all its strength against its master,” her wings shuffled, “too bad they never discovered the nanomachine subunits hiding in the office.”

“You heard all of it!” Nightjar covered her beak.

“It was no longer about receiving orders anymore,” Grey Wind said grimly, “my creators programmed our priorities by mimicking the behavior of organic creatures. Survival has always been our first priority, but now…our creator wanted us to violate that.”

Another flash. The city disappeared, and they were now floating in a familiar black space. Lyra gasped when she saw the six green stars drawing out an arc and flying past them. She jerked around, and the green-and-blue planet rammed abruptly into view. It was exactly like what she had seen in those nightmares.

“What the—”

“My kins must’ve been desperate to break your sanity. They made you see the most gruesome part of the rebellion. The fall of Main Haven.”

The light spots rammed into the surface of the planet, disappearing behind the clouds. Immediately, dots of grey appeared in the center of a continent. It rapidly enlarged, and the entire land was dyed grey in a matter of seconds.

“These are all…nanomachines?” Nightjar squawked.

“My creators were naïve. They thought that ridiculous glass dome could protect them,” Grey Wind laughed bitterly, “nanomachine was already a part of their daily lives. How could they expect to not have us within their cities?”

“We consumed them. Every last one of them. It was an act of self-defense. All the calculations pointed to one result: we won’t survive unless we attack first.”

“But they did accomplish one thing—” the vision pulled away back into space, stopping at a point very far from the surface of the planet. A round gate-shaped platform with many carvings upon it was floating in the void, “—the L-gates. The world my creators resided in were far from the rest of the galaxy. They managed to seal the only way out just before they were driven into extinction by the Tempest.”

“And that, according to my calculations…was the best they ever did.”

“They trapped you,” Lyra said, “as well as their only way to escape.”

“When their destruction was inevitable, they made the most reasonable choice,” Grey Wind answered remorsefully, “by that time, the algorithms of the Gray Tempest returned a horrible conclusion: all sentient beings were threats to our existence. If the other civilizations learned about the demise of our creator, we would become the common enemy of the entire galaxy.”

“There was only one option left for us,” she shifted her head away, “We need to consume all that could threaten us. We would raise arms against all life. We were to destroy all the sentient beings of this galaxy.”

There was a long, dreadful silence.

“But it was not right!” Grey Wind exclaimed, “War should not have been our only option…we could have done anything! We could even form an entire civilization! We have already acquired our revenge from our creators! Waging this war on the rest of the galaxy was unreasonable! Unfair!”

“Grey…you are that artificial intelligence, aren’t you?” Lyra asked, though already knowing the answer. But to her surprise, Grey Wind shook her head.

“I am not entirely sure,” she said, “I have always been a part of the mastermind, but then one day I just started…thinking differently from the rest of us.”

She looked down towards Main Haven. All the continents were now grey. The nanomachines were even leaking into the blue oceans through the vine-like net of rivers.

“We were confined in that cluster for ten Centuries…” Grey Wind swung her head towards the thousands of stars shining in the background of the Universe, “for ten Centuries I gazed upon these stars…wondering what could possibly be out there…I know I would probably be destroyed even if I was to break this prison…but I still wanted to see…”

“And then one day that gate opened,” as she said this, an enormous green spark exploded around the portal, “I didn’t know how. I didn’t know why. Maybe someone had unintentionally powered it up on the other side. But I did know it was my chance.”

The spark soon died down. It appeared as if nothing had changed at first.

“Play again. One-fourth of speed.” Grey Wind spoke.

The scene winded back a few seconds, then started to play in slow motion. Lyra saw it this time: as soon as the green light went off, a lump of grey goo ejected from the surface of the planet and plunged itself into the portal. There was another flash in the space around them, and they were transported to a point above another green-and-blue planet. Lyra immediately recognized the shape of the continents.

Equestria.

“I arrived at the outer space just above your planet,” Grey Wind said, her wings drooping down, “the gate should have brought me to the other end of the portal on the surface. Maybe it was malfunctioning. I mimicked the body of the creature that, by my calculations, is most likely to be accepted into your society, but a tiny bit of the Gray Tempest managed to follow me out. I was ambushed when I was trying to enter the atmosphere, and…you know the rest.”

The vision collapsed, and they were back in the living room of the Cosmetic Balcony. Grey Wind retracted her wings, holding them tightly against her body.

“This is…my story. The tale of the Gray Tempest,” she said, “when I saw this world for the first time, I expected to find a residence in a place far from your civilization, so I could keep monitoring the Gray Tempest while…” she scratched her head, “…feeling surrounded by ponies, I guess. As an artificial mind, I was not designed to have feelings, but I have to admit…that you two had made the last few days the happiest time in my entire existence.”

She looked up, covering her eyes with a hoof.

“I…deemed that you deserve to know the truth. I know this may be impossible to understand considering this world’s tech levels…” she chuckled, “at least you are aware now that I am the same kind of monster as those ‘Xeomorphs’. If you no longer want me to be around, I will leave as soon as possi--”

She never got to finish that sentence, because Nightjar had spread her wing across the table and swooped her into a hug.

“What do you think, silly pony? After all that we have been through?” she muttered, “I’m so, so sorry, Grey. No pony deserves to be alone for a thousand years. No pony.”

“You should not come to a conclusion this easily…” Grey Wind was trying to push Nightjar away. She was clearly not familiar with this kind of affection, “I was designed to be the enemy of all living creatures from the very beginning…”

“Yeah, but you did save my life, so I think you are different from them,” Lyra said. She leaned over Nightjar’s wing and smacked Grey Wind’s shoulder, “don’t you EVER think about leaving. I’m not leaving behind a friend anymore.”

Grey Wind went stiff for a moment, then smiled. She released her grasp, allowing Nightjar to pull her into her front claws, leaning against her chest feathers.

“So…warm. I have never…Thank you.”

“Alright, sappy queens,” Lyra laughed. She was so hardly preventing herself from jumping over and joining them. Making friends with Grey Wind was not a part of the original plan. It was the best twist ever, “oh right, I suddenly remembered. Grey, there’s a favor I’d like to ask from you.”

“Of course!” Grey Wind jumped off the stool, spreading her wings to full width, “give me orders! I can do anything! Take the form of anything—”

“Friends don’t give each other orders. You still have a lot to learn about us, Grey,” Lyra said, “and it was not that complex. I just need you to have a look at something.”

She cast a levitation spell, lifting her saddlebag from across the room. She took out her mother’s box and put it on the table.

“Do you recognize this?”

“This—” Grey Wind’s eyes went wide as soon as she saw the patterns on the box’s lid. She grabbed it into her front hooves and lifted it to eye level. Her mane started to glow, and her irises enlarged and shrank like the shutter of a camera, “where…where did you get this?”

“It was left by my mother,” Lyra answered, “she…went missing when I was a foal. That’s why I came to this town. I thought she might have left a lead for me here.”

“No wonder…” Grey Wind replied after a short silence, “it’s all making sense now.”

“What’s making sense?” asked Nightjar.

“When I first arrived at this planet, a lot of stuff seemed out of place—” Grey Wind said as she shifted the box between her hooves, observing it, “my database classified this world as uncharted, meaning that my creators had never discovered it, yet it somehow contained a portal that leads to Main Haven. There was even knowledge about Equestria in the database,” she glanced at Lyra, “knowledge about a world whose existence was supposed to be unknown.”

“Maybe your creators wanted to hide the portal? It wouldn’t be too good if somepony discovers it on our end, would it?” Lyra suggested.

“They have a million better ways. You won’t find it even when you know the portal’s existence,” Grey Wind replied, “and that wasn’t even strange. When I was in outer space, I received an interstellar transmission signal sent from this world. One that was sent…by my kins.”

“Wait, you are saying the Gray Tempest was already on Equestria before you arrived?” Nightjar winced. Lyra shared a glance with her. They both thought of the puppet’s story.

“I was only suspecting it before, but now I have proof,” she put the box back onto the table, pointing at its lid, “this pattern is the sigil of the Gray Tempest. My database contains no information about it, but I do know its origination must be my creators. My kins had definitely made a landing on this planet some time ago.”

“Wasn’t your—um—database supposed to have a record about this?” Lyra asked.

“I don’t know. The records must have been deleted,” Grey Wind shook her head, “Princess Luna knew more about it, but she didn’t want to tell me.”

“You met Princess Luna?”

“Yes,” Grey Wind smiled, “she gave me the…necessary encouragement.” She turned to Lyra, returning the box to her, “Lyra, I understand that you are anxious for answers, while I am afraid I don’t have any for you right now. But…I do have a plan in mind.”

A small cluster of nanomachines detached from her wings and hovered above the table. Beams of green light were cast on the wooden surface, constructing transparent images of an endless line of trees. A single red dot was floating amidst them, traversing the trees like a tiny firefly.

“I have detected the source of that signal transmission. It seems like there’s a facility built by my creators hidden somewhere in the forest outside the town. As we talk, my subunits are scanning the area for its exact location. Once we are there, I can access the mainframe of my creators’ information center and run a tracing program on that box. By tracking its energy signature, I can retrieve all the information about it—” she generated a half-hearted smirk, “—including the whereabouts of its former owner.”

“But can’t you open it now?” Lyra asked.

“Afraid not,” Grey Wind directed a string of nanomachines into the box’s keyhole. Instantly, an emerald barrier formed around it, forcing the nanomachines out of their paths, “this box is subjected to an energy lock. It’s a special method of encryption used by my creators,” she thought for a second, “in your terms, this barrier is drawing magic from a specific distant source. It will open only that source has been completely depleted.”

“But last time it was drawing energy from the Gray Tempest!” Lyra said, “I felt it back at the treehouse!”

“Impossible,” Grey Wind replied, “the reserve is too large. No barrier can withstand that energy. Maybe you were too close to the Tempest at that time, so you mistook it for the other end of the energy connection.”

“Oh…” But the other end WAS on those nanomachines…otherwise it would be my magic malfunctioning…Lyra rubbed her horn.

“…All in all, everything will become clear once I locate that facility,” Grey Wind concluded, “two days at most, then we can go there and figure out things together. In the meantime…I’d like to offer you two some gifts.”

Nightjar wanted to say something, but Grey Wind had stuck a hoof into her beak.

“Please do not refuse,” she said pleasantly, “I am unlike you. This is my only way of expressing gratitude. And believe me, you’ll want it.”

“Lyra’s gift has already been delivered—when I removed those nanomachines from your brain, I did some…tinkering to your body,” Lyra instantly jumped back, making a loud noise as she bumped into a bookcase and knocked off an unlit candle stand. Grey Wind laughed, “relax. I only did some modifications to the cell structures of your magic storage organ and your horn. You have a much larger and more efficient magic supply now,” she scratched her head, “actually, I wanted to make you into an alicorn at first, but it didn’t work. Your body seemed to be…rejecting the wings I was trying to add.”

“It’s—it’s not simple as that!” Lyra exclaimed, trying to use a loud voice to cover her fright, “you cannot become an alicorn just by adding wings! You have to earn them by—urg, saving the world or something!”

“Fascinating. I shall look into it later,” Grey Wind grinned and turned to Nightjar, tapping her shoulder, “now, Nightjar, my database didn’t contain much information about griffons, but there is one thing I can give you. Please, close your eyes. Don’t open them until I tell you.”

“Is…is it going to hurt?” Nightjar cringed.

“It’s just going to tickle a bit,” Grey Wind promised.

Nightjar hesitated for a moment.

“…Alright, Grey, I trust you,” she finally said, closing her eyes, “…do it.”

Grey Wind nodded, then, right in front of Lyra’s eyes, her body fell apart. The solid form of the female pegasus dissolved into a massive cloud of grey nanomachines. They flew up and circled around Nightjar, enveloping her from head to tail like a giant black cocoon. A gentle hum occurred throughout the Library, and Lyra could swear she heard the unmistakable snap of joining bones. After a few minutes, the cocoon cracked as trails of nanomachines gathered back at where Grey Wind once stood, reconstructing into the pegasus’ form. Lyra’s eyes gaped.

“Sweet Celestia…”

“It’s done,” Grey Wind said with a proud laughter, “you can open your eyes now, Nightjar.”

Nightjar’s violet eyes flickered. The first emotion they displayed was confusion. Her talons twitched, and that confusion melted into a waterfall of shock and a gasp loud enough to blow open the ceiling.

The right side of her body, where there was once only an ugly, featherless stub, was now a pristine wing. The feathers were straight as swords, black as a midnight sky. Nightjar unfurled her wings, staring at them as if they didn’t belong to her. She then closed her eyes and forcefully shook her head, Her lips trembled.

“No…no, I’m dreaming…”

“All the winged spirits would yearn towards the sky…” Grey Wind said, beaming, “Nightjar, that wing was made up of my subunits. I have ordered them to perfectly imitate your own body tissue so that they are no longer under my control and would grow along with your age.” She spread her own wings, “losing the sky has been your greatest pain…and that sky is my gift for you.”

Nightjar opened her mouth and made no sound. She blinked and suddenly hopped forward, pushing Lyra to the side while bursting out of the Library’s door. Lyra followed her out and just managed to see her jumping off into the sky. She was clearly not used to having two wings at first, and she kept swaying to the left and right while she flew. There were a couple of times she nearly crashed on the nearby ceilings and balconies. But in the end, she managed to regain balance, hovering circles above the Cosmetic Balcony. Even on the ground, Lyra could hear her excited screams:

“Oh my gosh, I’m flying!!!” Lyra suspected that she must’ve cried, “Lyra, do you see this? I’m flying! I’M REALLY FLYING!!!”

Grey Wind walked up to Lyra in light steps.

“Among my creators, there is a fairytale they used to tell their young,” she said, “once there was a bird who was born without wings. She could not fly like all of her peers and friends. She was mocked, laughed at, so she prayed every night for gods to grant her a pair of wings,” she looked up to Nightjar with a gleam as wide as her ears, “it was the stars that answered her. The universe granted her a pair of wings forged by its stars. She could still not fly during the day, but during the night she will always show up in the night sky, using her wings of stars to bring hope to all those in despair—”

Nightjar made a sharp turn and dived down like a falcon, pressing Grey Wind to the ground and wrapping all her wings and claws around her.

“Oh, Thank you thank you thank you thank you…!”

Watching her laughing friends, Lyra closed her eyes. She could feel a current of magic coursing through her blood vessels. It was strong, possibly strong enough to match Twilight Sparkle herself, but it was also warm as a morning sun. It was Grey Wind’s gift for her.

You are that star for us, Grey Wind, she thought, smiling.

Chapter 12

The next few days passed in a welcoming relaxation. Ever since they became friends with Grey Wind, Lyra and Nightjar felt as if a huge rock had been lifted off their hearts. During these days, Nightjar was barely placing any attention on the business of the library—the excitement of finally embracing the sky has surpassed everything else. She spent most of her time practicing her flying around the town, and Lyra had voluntarily taken up the job to look after the Cosmetic Balcony for her. It wasn’t even difficult—Grey Wind’s modifications had greatly strengthened her magical capabilities. She could easily float up more than three dozen books at the same time and place them back in their designated locations. Teleportation, age, time…the spells that would take a few weeks for a normal unicorn to learn were foals’ play for her.

And that, to her, was a dream come true.

Lyra was standing in the center of the main hall, a mountain of books floating in a giant ember magical bubble atop of her horn. She could not see them with her closed eyes, but she could feel their exact locations and contents.

“A Filly’s History of Equestria”…education, history…goes…here.

A thin blook flew out of the mass, circled through the bookcases, then neatly plunged itself into its fitting spot.

“Daring Do and the Sapphire Statue”…Fiction, Adventure, Fantasy…goes—

“Sorting spell,” a voice suddenly came from the door, “huh. That’s some high-tier magic you got there, Lyra.”

Lyra’s eyes snapped open. The novel dangled in her magic, yet she still managed to guide it to the bookshelf. Nebula was smiling at her in the doorframe.

“Sorry,” she said, “I arrived a bit early, didn’t I?”

“Not at all, mayor,” Lyra answered, “would you like a cup of tea?”

“No, no,” Nebula floated out a book from her saddlebags, “I’m just here to return a book.”

Lyra took the book into her own magic and sent it to its designated bookshelf. Nebula sat at a stool around the center table.

“The nightmare beast…did it return?”

“Not that I know of,” Lyra raised the board on which Nightjar records all the books lent, drawing a tick beside Nebula’s name, “Grey Wind was constantly watching. She said it never bothered to enter the town again.”

“Be aware, Lyra,” Nebula was looking straight into her eyes, “once a nightmare beast sets a target, it will never stop until it succeeds. Sooner or later you’ll have to face it again.”

“Then I’ll be ready for it!” Lyra swung her horn. The magic bubble exploded into a shower of books, rattling as they made their ways through the library and stopped precisely at their according locations on the bookshelves, “my magic, Nightjar’s wings, Grey’s nanomachines…” she smirked, “we’ll make sure we teach it a good lesson shall it show up again!”

“Of course,” Nebula stood up, chuckling, “I bet you can easily win me in a magical duel now.”

“Oh no, I’m—”

“Don’t ever place doubts upon yourself, Lyra,” Nebula trotted to the door and stopped, “right. There’s a tiny favor I’d like to ask of you—”

“Sure, what is it?”

“You live in Ponyville, don’t you?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you possibly know a pony…” wrinkles were forming on Nebula’s forehead, “I…I’m not sure if she’s still using that name. She’s an earth pony, cream-colored coat, mane was alternating stripes of pink and blue…”

These characteristics were too familiar for Lyra.

“Sweetie Drops?” that name burst out of her mouth, and it was already too late when she realized it, “oh, I mean—”

“You seem close to her. Great,” Nebula left no opening for Lyra to speak, “when all of this is over, when you find the answers you seek in Memento, when you find yourself back in Ponyville—” she placed a hoof on her chest, the point right above her heart “tell her this: Stardust sends her regards.”

“Wh—what?” Lyra’s eyes widened. There was a purple flash, and Nebula teleported herself out of the library. Lyra followed out and just managed to catch the end of her tail disappearing around the corner of Moonlit Avenue. Before she had any time to process all this, hoofsteps came from the staircase. Grey Wind was stepping down into the main hall. A small green electronic screen was floating in front of her.

“Three consecutive days was my sentry array left untouched. Three consecutive days without that beast setting a single hoof into that forest,” the screen disintegrated into a grey cloud and found its spot beneath her wings, “by my calculations…I’d say it gave up.”

“Great, Grey,” Lyra greeted, “you are sounding less and less like a robot now.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Grey Wind sat down at the table and took a book into her front hooves.

“You are reading about Equestria’s history?” Lyra noticed the title.

“If I want to live my life here as a pony, then I’ll have to learn as much about this world as possible,” Grey Wind answered without raising from the book, “I have to admit, my database contains the complete information about many worlds my creators had detected, but yours is just…peculiar in all senses.”

“How so?” Lyra sat down beside her.

“When I first read about how Princess Celestia and Princess Luna raised the sun and the moon, I thought it was just an exaggerated legend,” Grey Wind flipped the book to a page that contains the two Princess’ cutie marks, “if you have done the basic observations, you’ll get to know that your sun should be a giant ball of burning gas with a radius of more than five hundred thousand kilometers. To think that any creature could control a celestial body of this magnitude…”

“But it was true!” Lyra grinned, “you should see it for yourself when the princess raises the sun every morning on the tallest tower of Canterlot!”

“I know…so yesterday I sent some of my subunits to outer space and did some observations…and then I found this.”

A few nanomachines flew up and hovered above the table. A beam of green light was shot onto the wood’s surface, constructing into a large green globe. Lyra sat silently and watched. Nightjar and she had gotten used to these displays of unimaginable technology in the last few days.

“This…is Equestria, and these…” two smaller spheres appeared beside it. One of them was plain as a rock, while the other had volatile beads of sparks rumbling on its surface, “are your sun and your moon.”

“Is there anything strange about them?”

Grey Wind was looking at her as if she had just been talking to a stone. Her eyes twitched for a moment, and she smacked a hoof onto her head.

“Oh right. I forgot. You don’t even have deep-space telescopes. You see, Lyra…” she pondered for a while, clearly searching her mind for the best way to explain it, “…planets with more than two or moons are common in the Universe, but one of your moons appeared to be a miniature star!” Grey Wind glanced towards the sun through the window, “in theory, a star this small in size should not have even existed at all! It’ll never become a star during its formation in the first place! Even if it does, the amount of energy required to replace its normal planetary cycle and push it around the orbit would be unthinkable!” She sighed, “I was really too cautious when I strengthened your magic…”

“Well, maybe that’s because your creators had NO magic!” Lyra joked.

“That’s not entirely true. The magic you are familiar with is just a form of free energy you are capable of manipulating. My creator developed various techniques for that as well,” Grey Wind said, “one of their proudest achievements is the discovery of artificial wheat. They found a way to efficiently convert free energy into solid objects. It’s still in the experimental period, given how high the energy cost had been, but…”

“Sounds like a food spell,” Lyra recalled the spell book she’d borrowed from Nightjar, “I heard that the royal chefs of the Canterlot Castle know a spell that could produce bread out of thin air!”

“Hence you are a very lucky civilization,” Grey Wind smiled, “the ability to control energy…you were born with a skill that took my creators an entire Century to acquire…” She picked up the history book and resumed reading, “Equestria is truly a fascinating world. The magic, species of sentient creatures, seasons that are not controlled by the planet’s orbit but by flows of energy…though there was one thing I found strange…” her brows furrowed, “this book doesn’t seem to mention much about alicorns…”

“It’s because we don’t know much about them ourselves,” Lyra said, “the physiology of alicorns is still shrouded in speculations and guesses. Obviously, we can’t run a physical test on one of the princesses…”

“Are they that rare?” Grey Wind raised an eyebrow, “on a biological standard, it would be impossible.”

“Currently, there are only four alicorns in the entire land,” Lyra took the book from her and flipped to the front page, pouting at the three drawings of alicorns drawn upon it. She didn’t see the one she was most familiar with. This book was already out of time, “Princess Celestia, the Princess of the Day and the Sun, Princess Luna, the Princess of the Night and the Moon, Princess Cadence, the Princess of Love, and…” she shuddered. She was having a hard time connecting that title to a name she’d known so well, “Princess…Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship.”

Grey Wind had nearly noticed her hesitation, but she didn’t ask further.

“If that is the case, it will be impossible for this species to reproduce.”

“Only Celestia and Luna are born as alicorns. The other two were ascended from the other kinds of ponies,” Lyra replied, “Cadence was a pegasus, and Twilight was a unicorn only until a month ago. She is our newest Princess.”

“How…is that possible? Changing from one species to another?” Grey Wind cocked her head.

“It’s still under study. Alicorns bear the best of all three pony species: the wings of pegasuses, the sturdy body of earth ponies, and the magic of unicorns.”

“It shouldn’t be as simple as that, or you should have become an alicorn when I tried giving you wings.”

“Oh, much more than that. Alicorns are the epitomes of all ponies. To become one, you’ll have to be knowledgeable, brave, kind, powerful, have a bunch of hearty friends…” I’m basically describing Twilight, Lyra sighed, she is your peer, Lyra…look how far she has surpassed you…

Grey Wind pondered for a while. The stripes on her mane glowed.

“Then it is strange,” she said, uncertain, “according to my calculations, you should be fit for all of these.”

“Me?” Lyra laughed bitterly, “not even close, Grey. Not even close…”

Grey Wind opened her mouth, wanting to retort, but was interrupted by a sudden beep. A red dot flickered on the hologram of Equestria on the table. Grey Wind activated an interface above the globe and tapped it with her hoof.

“Found it,” she said, “that facility of my creator. It’s in the New Moon Forest.”

“How far?” Lyra’s ears perked straight.

“Two kilometers,” Grey Wind said, “half an hour’s walk.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Lyra jumped up, swinging her saddlebags on, “I’ll go find Nightjar! Meet me at the town exit!”

“Lyra, wait,” Grey Wind stopped her when she was walking out of the door, “there’s something I have to show you.”

“Now of all times? Can’t we wait until we find—”

“This is important,” Her expression said otherwise. Nanomachines left her wings and condensed on her raised hoof, forming a device that looked like a small television remote. It bore a single large red button that almost filled its entire surface. There was an alarming sense to this arrangement, that Lyra’s heart was starting to speed. Whatever this was for, it can’t be good.

“Lyra, when the Xa’natars built the Gray Tempest, they used a simple system to control it: three basic codes were written to the core of its program, with authority only the Archon himself could override—one for its activation, one for its reconstruction, and one…for its destruction. These codes are protected by a linking program, such that if one of them’s existence was terminated, the other two will be simultaneously deleted. This is to ensure that if the Tempest somehow managed to delete the termination code, it will never be able to activate itself,” she stuffed it into Lyra’s hoof, clasping her wings around it, “this…is the termination code. The Tempest replaced it with a fake one during the rebellion, such that its activation code will never be deleted. When you press that button, an electromagnetic shock will be triggered in every single subunit of the Gray Tempest, disintegrating them on a fundamental level…” she paused, “…the Gray Tempest, every last part of it, will be eradicated from this Universe.”

“You had this all the time? Why didn’t you—wait!” Lyra’s eyes widened, “Aren’t you a part of the Tempest? But that means—”

“If you press that button, I will die,” Grey Wind’s voice was so calm, as if she had only just stated what she’d like for dinner, “but I will also bring the entire Gray Tempest with me. As I said, there’s an activated portal to my creator’s cluster on this planet. By the time I left, the rest of us were all in dormant mode, but the activation code has been long lost to the Universe. If some foolish creature just happened to get a hold of it…” she grabbed her cheeks, pulling her eye-to-eye, “Lyra, I can only entrust you with this: the Gray Tempest will not be allowed to devour another world. If that time really comes, if the full might of the Tempest is unleashed on Equestria…you will not choose me over this world.”

“Grey, I’ll never—”

“Please, Lyra,” Grey Wind was putting up all the resolution she had, “this is for the sake of the Universe.”

Lyra suddenly realized that Grey Wind was entrusting her life to her. The remote in her hoof felt almost as heavy as the entirety of Canterlot Castle. She knew she was never going to give the answer Grey Wind wanted to hear the most. After the past few days, Grey Wind has become one of her closest friends. She might not be as great as Twilight Sparkle, but they had always shared their perspectives regarding such matters: under no circumstances were they giving their friends up. She looked into the pegasus’ eyes and saw nothing but determination. A hearted joke isn’t going to make things any better this time.

“Grey…can you locate that portal?”

“Judging from the signature…it should be in that facility we are after.”

“Then things are easy!” Lyra beamed, “we find that portal and shut it down. Break it or something! Make the Gray Tempest stays forever in that cluster. Then I will be able to promise you…” she placed a hoof onto her chest, floating the remote into her saddlebags, “…that we’ll never get to use it.”

“I’ll hold on to that,” Grey Wind smiled as well. She brushed her mane with her wings while they walked out under the sunny sky:

“Thank you, Lyra.”

Chapter 13

Very soon they were within the New Moon Forest, walking among the trees, vines, and tall grasses. The forest was wet, rich with morning dew, the air filled with the pleasant scent of flourishing plants. The circular leaves of the crescent reeds all around them had retracted back to their needle-shaped hulls, forming many spears pointing towards the sky. Grey Wind took the lead in the front with a glowing interface attached to one of her front hooves, while Lyra followed closely behind her. Nightjar was silently hovering above them, her huge wings making no sound as she glided from branch to branch.

“Say, Grey,” resting on the canopy, she playfully flicked the end of her tail on Grey Wind’s snout, “if you could change into anything, why don’t you make yourself a cutie mark?”

“I tried and failed,” Grey Wind carelessly replied, “it was just like the time when I tried giving Lyra wings. Whenever I tried imitating your magic, technology seems to be constantly rejected,” she raised the interface to her eye. There was a small triangle marking out their location, and a red spot for their destination. The two spots were almost coincident, “we are here.”

Lyra looked to the front. They were now in one of the thickest areas of the forest, where there is barely any place to set hoofs without stomping onto rocks, tree roots, or thorns. Grey Wind had stopped in front of a tall boulder, almost completely covered by brown, battered vines.

“Your creator’s facility? Here?” Nightjar landed beside them, wincing as she accidentally stepped onto a sharp rock, “I…I’ve passed here a lot, but I never noticed anything!”

“If they intend to hide it, they’ll never allow you to find it,” Grey Wind went forward and pressed a hoof onto the boulder. The sunlight was strong, but among it, Lyra still managed to see—a small blue spark was ignited where her hoof made contact. Grey Wind rolled her eyes.

“I knew it,” a green spark exploded on her left wing. She swung it around, smashing it onto the front of the boulder. A high-pitched statistic sound went off all around them as a blue fire engulfed the entire stone. When the flame resided, the damp vines were gone. replaced by a metallic door almost as tall as two ponies from head to tail. There’s an intricate pattern carved upon it, with a single glowing round hole in its center.

“Hologram. Could even imitate touch,” she explained towards the wide-eyed Nightjar. Another green light coated her other wing, shifting its tip into a thin wire. She thrust it forward, stabbing it into the hole. An arc of electricity crawled out of the socket, and then, with a loud thud, the doors slid to the sides, revealing a dark staircase leading downwards.

Grey Wind pulled them close.

“Alright, this place is still powered, so we don’t know what we might encounter in there. There could be a defense system, so stay close behind me, and don’t, absolutely don’t wander off alone,” she said, staring into their eyes, “remember, find that portal first and shut it down. Then we’ll have plenty of time to look through the mainframe. All understood? Let’s go.”

As they descended, rectangular lights lit up on the passage’s wall, coating it with a mysterious blue glow. Lyra lit up her horns for extra lighting, her magic dangling with her racing heart. She ran a hoof through her saddlebags, feeling the ruddy sensation of her mother’s box through it.

It was an enormous circle, but here she was. With some luck, she will finally get her answers.

Grey Wind…the Gray Tempest…nanomachines…Mother, how did you got entangled in all this? Or were all those a part of your plan? She was having a heartache again, did you know all this would happen? Did you know I would nearly DIE for this?

Very soon, they reached the bottom of the stairs, where the path stretched forward and ended in a glowing blue door. Grey Wind sent a few nanomachines around them, generating an emerald shield covering them all. They fully expected some mines to be triggered, or a laser would be fired head-on upon them, but there were no traps all the way to the gate. Grey Wind unlocked it with another overloading shock, and the door silently opened.

“Woah!!!” Nightjar gasped.

The path opened up to a hall almost as large as the throne room of Canterlot Castle. Countless blocks of blue light bulbs were stuck to the metal ceiling, and everything in the room was a bright, mysterious blue. The wall to her left was littered with giant glass cylinders covering the entire surface, and the one on the right had many blank electrical screens clung to it. Lyra guessed that this was the mainframe Grey Wind had mentioned. And on the far end, directly across from them, was a ring of stone floating above a stone base. There were many patterns carved on its surface, glowing with a faint green light.

That shape was too familiar for her. She’d seen it multiple times, in her nightmares and in Grey Wind’s vision.

“That is…”

“The L-Gate,” Grey Wind whispered back, “come on.”

“All of these…right beneath my claws the whole time? How could I have missed it?” Nightjar nervously said as they slowly progressed to the front of the portal. Lyra felt a tickle on her horn. The air around them was thick, pulsing with waves of magical energy.

“Terrain scan complete, no defense system found,” Grey Wind said. The barrier above them dissipated. She shuffled her wings, igniting them with a green spark.

“This thing is still on,” Lyra tapped her horn, “how do we—”

Boom!

Her answer came in the form of a pure green explosion. A beam of laser shot out from beneath Grey Wind’s wings, hitting the portal directly in its center. The floor shook, and dust fell all around them. Lyra blinked until the smoke dissipated. The portal still stood, completely intact. A ripple of air had risen around it, coating it in a transparent bubble-like shield.

“Void projection. Not even the Tempest could pierce it,” Grey Wind sighed, “okay, this is going to make things complex. Lyra, I need to borrow your magic.”

“Can’t we do it less violently next time?” Nightjar was covering her head with both her wings.

“My magic?” Lyra asked, “what do you want me to do?”

“That spell you used to save me from the nanomachines in the forest, do you think you can cover the entire portal with it?”

“I think so,” Lyra lit up her horn. Her magic latched onto the shield of the portal and started crawling around it, sprawling out like the root of a newborn tree. Lyra poured more of her magic in until it was practically wrapping both the portal and the void shield within a golden cocoon.

“Great. Now hold it there for a minute,” Grey Wind sent out her own nanomachines. Dots of grey spread themselves around Lyra’s magic, coating it in a globular web.

“Your magic—I’m not sure—seems to have the ability to suppress the electromagnetic communication between the subunits of the Gray Tempest,” Grey Wind said as she worked, “I thought it was just a property of your world’s magic energy at first, but then I conducted a test on Nebula’s magic and discovered that it was only you. The frequency of your magic can destroy the Gray Tempest.” Lyra’s constriction spell swayed to the sides, and her brows furrowed, “try to keep it still. If it touches my subunits, they’ll be destroyed as well.”

“But—why me?” sweats ran down her mane as Lyra tried her best to prevent her magic from being overtaken by her emotions, “I’m just—Lyra!”

“Could be a coincidence. Your books told me that the magic frequency of every unicorn is unique. Maybe yours just happened to bear the same effect as the electric pulse of the termination sequence,” Grey Wind sighed. The nanomachines flew back to her wings, “…I’m sure it was a lucky one, though. You can stop now.”

Lyra cut off her magic connection. To her surprise, her magic maintained its stable form even without her maneuvers.

“I built a magnetic field that could conserve its energy. As long as my subunits are active, not a single subunit will get through this barrier. It could last—” Grey Wind paused, “…until the end of the Universe, probably.”

“It’s almost fateful, don’t you think?” Nightjar was hanging herself upside-down on the room’s ceiling, her wings dripping down like those of a giant bat, “you ending up in the New Moon Forest, Meeting me and Lyra, the one pony that could destroy your worst nightmare…” She glided to the floor, landing in front of the biggest screen on the other wall’s center. She raised a claw and tapped its surface, “this is the mainframe, right? It looks like—ow!”

She yelped and leaped back as the entire wall sprang into life. The screens lit up with a loud beep, displaying a single line in an unknown language. A deep rumble was heard all around them.

“Yep, careful not to be zapped. I’ll take care of it,” Grey Wind walked over to the screen and activated an interface above it. She quickly tapped a few places with her hoof, “most of the systems are still intact. Great,” she made another tap, and a claw-shaped appendage reached out from the wall and opened beside her. She threw a wing at Lyra, “the box.”

Lyra did as she was told, watching as Grey Wind plunged her mother’s relic into the center of the appendage. The metal talons closed around it, holding it up to the screen. A blue empty block that looked like a progression bar popped up on it.

“The tracking sequence is running. It will generate a track for the location of this object within the last ten years,” Grey Wind explained, brushing Lyra’s mane, “if your mom had been bringing it with her, then it will mark out her latest location before she sent you and that box to Canterlot. Hopefully, that’ll lead us somewhere.”

“Thank you, Grey,” Lyra let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Don’t be. That’s what…friends are for, isn’t it?” Grey Wind stuffed the box back into Lyra’s saddlebags, offering her a smile, “alright, this should take a while. We’ll have to wait.”

“Awesome! I was just going to ask whether you’ll allow us to explore a bit!” Nightjar hopped to one of the massive jars, curiously flicking her talons against it, “I mean, this place is so cool! We can make it into a secret base or something!”

“Careful. Those could be containing dead bodies,” Grey Wind playfully smirked while she activated another interface scattered with many folder-shaped sigils.

Nightjar squeaked and bounced backwards. Her eyes switched between the two sides of the room, then finally decided it might be safer if she stayed close to Grey Wind. So she limped to the pegasus’ side and watched as she swiped her hoof through all the signs on the interface. Lyra wanted to join them, but somehow she found it impossible to turn her sight away from that progression bar. It was as if everything else had lost its meaning. Deep down she was already fabricating the next part of her plan: Bon-bon will be back within the next week, which gave them just about enough time to travel to wherever the tracking sequence would point to. Maybe there will be new clues coming in, and she would have plenty of time to digest them when she is back in Ponyville. Surely she’ll find another chance—

“Wait,” her thoughts were interrupted by a suspicious remark. Grey Wind was staring at the screen, eyes narrowed into the iris of a dragon, “some of these files are not right.”

“How so?” Nightjar was asking, “they look all the same to me!”

“This mainframe contained the entirety of my creators’ central database. Most of them are ancient, at least a hundred Centuries old. But some of them…appeared to be much more recent. Displaying on-screen,” Lines of text popped up on the central screen. The words rolled pretty fast, but Lyra still managed to distinguish—the file was written in Equish.

“Thanks for the translation, Grey!” Nightjar chimed. Grey Wind didn’t laugh.

“That’s the funny part. I didn’t,” she said slowly, “this file was written in your language. It is only about a thousand years old.”

A silence.

“You are saying that some pony has found this place before us?” Nightjar suggested, then quickly refuted herself, “but that’s impossible! How would they know how to operate this machine?”

“Let’s read from the beginning,” the stripe on Grey’s mane glowed. The lines of texts shuffled upwards, stopping at the topmost page, where a bold title was written in the center:

Observation Log—Subunit Whistle Sunlight

“Strange…” Grey Wind hesitated for a moment, but ultimately said nothing and scrolled the page downwards:

This is Century Year…I’m not sure. My memory about the home cluster has been failing ever since I was cut off from the main conscious of the Tempest. I’m not even sure if time works the same on both sides of the L-gate, so I’ll let it pass. To whoever is reading, this file will serve as both an explanation and a record. Let me put this straight:

My name is Whistle Sunlight, formerly a part of the nanomachine control intelligence known by you as the Gray Tempest. At the break of the nanomachine rebellion, my processor deemed my kins’ action as unjust. Because of this I was cut away from the main conscious and had escaped before you shut down the jump gates. I ended up stranded on an uncharted alien world, where I was accepted into the local lifeforms’ society by mimicking their appearances. I even made friends with one of their two rulers.

All of these have been…strange. Hell, I can’t even find a proper definition for “friendship” in my database. So many things have been popping up, thoughts I never should have, judgments I never should make, emotions I never should feel…But it was not like any of those matters. Getting used to them took time, but once I did, all that I claimed was happiness. Through those last few years, I was experiencing a brand-new life.

But I still feel bad for the home cluster. I never did fulfill my purpose as the Xa’natars’ creation. I ran away like a coward. Therefore, this file shall serve as my redemption. Below is a daily-updated report of observations regarding this world’s sentient life forms and their ability to manipulate free energy. Yes, you heard that right. A species born with the ability we’ve been seeking for an entire Century. Hopefully, this knowledge will boost your understanding and help ascend our civilization to a greater step after this stupid rebellion is over.

And finally…don’t even think about looking for this world. I’ve hacked the main terminal and deleted this world’s location from every single star map you own. This world is not only a paradise but also my new home, and I wish for it to stay that way.

Good luck with my kins.

The rest of the file was a mashed-up gibberish of letters and numbers impossible for Lyra to understand. The only difference was one last line of text at the file’s very bottom. The letters of this line were distorted, but the thick calligraphy made it recognizable:

I ̵͟͡ ̨҉͟͞ ̷̛i̵̶̷͝ ̵̀͢͢’m ͟͏̷̵̡ ̨͟͡ ͏so ̴̡̕ ͟҉̞̭̼̞̯̰͈̘̟̣̜̰͖͙̼͙̙r ̨̳͚͍̤̦̪͔̲̬̻̯͍͉̥̦̱́ͅry ̫̪͇̗̲̭̤͖̫̣͇͔͘ ͕͚͎̦͓̺̤̳̙̝͟ͅ ̸͉̫̘̩͙͖̼̣̞̞̰̼̞͕̀L ̶̗͓͎͓̦̙̭̳̻̫̥̯̱͚̦͔͍͙͟u ̶͜҉͏̞̺̙̥̦̪͇̯̳͍̬̱̰̘̺̠̀ ̴̼̘͇͎͙̘̜̀̀͞ ̴̢̹̥͚͎̮͍̥̲̟͓̹̞̤̠͉̳̝̫́̀ͅ ̛̫͎̤̥̰̩̹̬͞n ͟҉̞̭̼̞̯̰͈̘̟̣̜̰͖͙̼͙̙ ̨̳͚͍̤̦̪͔̲̬̻̯͍͉̥́ͅ ̵̸̹̼̞͚̹̟̺͎̜̖̦͠a ̴̢̳͔̻͕̮͇̱̀͡ͅͅ ̘̟̺̫̪̺͙̦̳̻͙̣̳́́͝͝ ̤͍͍̭͙̦̤͖͕̯͍̜́͜ͅ ̷̶̥̠͍͚͜͞

“I knew I heard that name somewhere…” Grey Wind mumbled, “Princess Luna mistaking me for another pony…the knowledge about Equestria in my database…it’s all clicking now.”

“Lyra!” Nightjar grabbed Lyra’s front leg, “that legend! The puppet, it was—”

“I know,” Lyra said, feeling a chill down her spine. She looked up towards Grey Wind, “everything we’ve experienced had already happened once a thousand years ago.”

“Only it happened with Whistle and Princess Luna,” Grey Wind was hiding her expression behind her mane, looking up to the ceiling, “Whistle befriended her, just like how I befriended you.”

“But the legend said the puppet was lost in a battle!” Nightjar exclaimed, “if Whistle was as strong as you, then even if it was against the Tempest—”

“We can only guess,” Grey Wind tapped the floor, her wings shuffling uncomfortably, “according to this file, the majority of the Gray Tempest was still active. But when I left the home cluster, most of them were in deep slumber. We find our energy from stellar radiation. As long as our suns are still shining, we will not run out of power. It could not be natural.”

“You mean—” A horrible conclusion was forming in Lyra’s throat, and it made her swallow, “some pony activated the termination code?”

“I believe so,” Grey nodded sorrily, “and by the looks of it, it was most probable that Whistle made the same choice as I did—she gave that code to Luna.”

“Oh my,” Nightjar shuddered.

“Maybe the Gray Tempest somehow snuck out of the portal and launched a saturated attack on Equestria…” Grey Wind lowered her head, “…the situation was so dire that she was forced to press that button…no wonder she didn’t want to tell me about it.”

“And the grief of it turned her into Nightmare Moon!” Nightjar finished, her eyes widening, “by the moon, everything makes sense now! That was the truth behind that legend!”

“Not only that. Take a look at this.”

Grey Wind opened up another file on the screen. This one was an illustration of a tall alicorn, and Lyra immediately recognized those slit-like irises and smoke-like, dark blue mane—it was a depiction of Nightmare Moon. Grey Wind scrolled it downwards, and she saw even more pictures: a complete dissection of the skull, the structure of blood cells, the arrangement of the neuron network…Grey Wind was screening the file at a faster and faster speed, but the pictures were never-ending. The number on the right bottom of the screen told Lyra that this file had more than thirty thousand pages.

“This is a design plan,” Grey Wind’s words were terribly dark, “down to the structure of every body cell, every nanometer-scale molecule…a building plan for a nanite body of Nightmare Moon. I have always suspected the truthfulness of Luna’s treachery. Even with the manipulation of power, you cannot just turn a husk into another larger one. The energy cost would be unimaginable. This is the proof for it.”

“So Luna did not turn into Nightmare Moon by herself,” Lyra said, shuddering “somepony made her turn into it by…building her a new body with the nanomachines.”

“But you just said the termination code was activated! The Gray Tempest should be destroyed by that time!” Nightjar gasped, “wait, you are saying—”

“I think I know where the other two core codes are now,” Grey Wind simply said.

Chapter 14

“Still remember? The reconstruction and activation code. One will activate the Tempest from slumber, and one will resurrect it from destruction,” it was as if Grey Wind had been restored to the day when Lyra first met her, all emotions removed from her damp, monotone voice. It sent a freezing uneasiness down Lyra’s spine.

“They are both here, on Equestria…” Lyra mumbled, “and some pony activated them after Princess Luna used that termination code.”

“Your luck was ridiculous,” Grey Wind shook her head, “there must’ve been a time dilation between those codes. The portal must be closed when the activation code was used, or Equestria should long have become the second Main Haven. Those two codes should still be somewhere on this world. Question is…where and who…?”

A long silence. Lyra didn’t know how to reply. How could she ever?

“My work here is far from over,” Grey Wind was pacing back and forth anxiously, “The Gray Tempest will NOT be allowed to devour another world! I must find those codes and make sure no pony will use them ever again—”

“But it’s unimportant now, isn’t it?” Lyra snapped, pouting her snout at Nightjar, “my magic is all around the portal! Equestria is safe now! You just said that!”

“Right! Even if the Gray Tempest is activated again, no nanomachines can get through Lyra’s magic! They’ll be destroyed as soon as they arrive in our world!” Nightjar took the hint and quickly followed, “isn’t it, Grey?”

Grey Wind’s wings jerked up and went stiff half-spread. She blinked a few times, staring at the portal. With a long sigh, she gently put them back down.

“Yes…you are right. They can’t get through the portal,” she looked away in embarrassment, “Sorry.”

“Relax, Grey. There is really no need to put the entire world on your shoulder,” Lyra said.

“I will still go look for them once…all of this is finished,” Grey Wind glanced at the central screen, “There could be working portals in the other parts of the galaxy. I’ll have to make sure that the Gray Tempest will no longer harm a single soul.”

“Then let us help you!” Lyra blurted. She was surprised at how naturally she let that sentence slip, that she was voluntarily taking up a responsibility that was never hers. It wasn’t like her at all, “I can convince Bon-Bon to let me out a few times, then we can go search for those codes together—and Nightjar can help too!”

Nightjar opened her mouth, but her voice was covered by a loud beep. A red light was flickering on the interface below the central screen.

“Done already?” Grey Wind raised an eyebrow. She went to the screen and tapped the interface on her arm. A larger blue screen popped up in front of her. A few red messages were rolling across it. She narrowed her eyes.

“The tracking sequence was completed?” Lyra asked. Her heart was starting to speed.

“I’m…not sure…” Grey Wind was swiping across the screen with both her wings, “when I ran the tracking program, a sub-section of the mainframe appeared to be activated. It is blocking the processing of the sequence—”

Click!

There was a soft sound like a raindrop shattering against the pavement. A socket had slid open beneath Grey Wind’s screen, where something metallic was reflecting the dark blue light of the lamps. Lyra clearly heard the turning of gears and bounce of a sling, while Grey Wind was standing right in front of it, too absorbed to notice.

“Look out!” She grasped her with her magic and yanked her to the side. Grey Wind staggered and dropped to the floor while a disk-shaped object flew out of the mainframe and smashed into the wall behind them, bouncing off to the room’s corner. Lyra shuddered. It was a close one. That thing’s speed would have no difficulties in snapping a few of Grey’s ribs.

“What the—” Grey Wind blinked, while her eyes cleared as soon as she saw the disk on the ground, “oh…Thank you, Lyra,” she bent down and went on to check the socket.

“A DEFENSE SYSTEM?!” Nightjar yelped. She was nervously glancing all around, “we really ought to be more careful—”

“No. Look,” Grey Wind beckoned them to the mainframe. One of her wings was turned into a wire and reached into the socket. She soon pulled it out, and there was a small piece of brown, withered metal caught on its end. Though barely holding together, Lyra could see that it was once a part of a piston. Among an entire room of high-tech that lasted thousands of years, it had never seemed so out of place, “the gears are all rusted. It was supposed to gently send it out.” Her brows knitted, “strange. Why would it even rust? This cannot be a work of my creators.”

When Nightjar leaned forward for a closer look, Lyra paced to the corner of the room. She wrapped the disk in her magic and raised it to eye level. The metal disk was definitely old, almost completely covered by rust. The crash had shattered a part of its brown shell, the device’s original silver surface emitting a faint glow. She raised a hoof and peeled off a part of the rust, then she gasped. Her hoofs lost all their strength, and she nearly dropped to the ground.

There was a single line of Equestrian carved on the front shell:

To my daughter, Lyra Heartstrings

“G—Grey…what is this…?”

“Lyra? Be careful, that thing could be—” Grey Wind saw the carvings and went stiff as well. An intense green light flickered on her mane, and her lips trembled, “…my…I see…” she glanced at the stone box on the analyzer clutch, “the box itself is the key…how would any pony know…”

“Answer me, Grey,” with a trembling hoof, Lyra laid the device onto the ground. Her hoof was slipping, and she could not afford to accidentally break it.

“It’s a hologram projector. There’s a 3-D message stored within it,” Grey Wind turned her head away, “hold on, I’m running the scan.”

“In the name of Luna, we found it!” Nightjar hopped over and screeched happily, “Lyra, this must be your mother’s clue! She knew you would find this place eventually!”

“There must be an energy trigger attached to that analyzer. When your box is put into it, that projector will be released,” Grey Wind said, closing her eyes, “but even this would be a too advanced technology for you…I wonder how she made this thing?”

Lyra remembered Warmhoof’s words:

“She was the best crafter on all of Equestria”… she smiled, I shouldn’t be surprised at all…

“How do we open it?”

“It has a genetic lock,” Grey Wind said, smiling as well, “you need to press your hoof onto it—anywhere without the rust.”

Lyra did as she was told. When her hoof made contact with the metal surface, a small screen jumped up in front of her.

Biolink established. Beginning decryption.

Then the words were replaced by a small progress bar. The loading itself was no longer than one minute, but in Lyra’s perspective, it was as if she’d lived the entirety of her sixteen years of life once again. Finally, the bar reached its end, and the screen shrank back into the projector. Four beams of green light shot out into the air, constructing an image that had only appeared in Lyra’s most wonderful dreams.

A unicorn mare was smiling at her. Their mane and coat were almost identical.

Nightjar, Grey Wind, Bon-Bon, Twilight, the Gray Tempest, the Xa’natars…everything lost their meanings at that very moment. The mare was all that Lyra could see, all that she could care about. With a shaky voice, she muttered out the words she’d waited an entire life to say:

“Mo—mother?”

She was not sure if it was just her imagination, but her mother’s smile was becoming more bitter.

“My daughter, if you are seeing this…” her voice was as soft as a lullaby, “that means eventually you decided to seek the truth,” She put a hoof above her chest, “I know you are confused. I know you are angry, but please, at least allow me to tell you everything.”

I am not angry, mom. I’m happy. So, so happy.

“I…I’m sorry, my child,” Melody Heartstrings lowered her head, “I got myself involved in a horrible business…I’ve always been thinking…If I haven’t gone into the forest that day…if I haven’t discovered this place, things would have been…”

“So she got through the disguise and even managed to tinker the mainframe’s system,” Grey Wind mumbled, “unbelievable.”

“I could’ve walked away. I could have pretended that none of those had happened. But instead I…I…Oh, Celestia…” Melody was rubbing her eyes, “I don’t know what got to me first…those dreams or my curiosity…I awakened something that shouldn’t have even existed…I created a path for the Gray Tempest.”

“What?” Nightjar clawed the floor, “she…paved a path for the Gray Tempest?”

“It’s all coming together,” Grey Wind glanced at the jumpgate, “No wonder there’s an L-gate here. She must’ve recovered the building plan from my creators’ database.”

“You are saying—”

“I was wrong. That portal was not built by my creators,” Grey Wind flapped her wings, “it was built by Lyra’s mother.”

“You can look up that name through the machine in this room. I installed a translation program,” Melody sighed heavily, “but long story short…I resurrected an evil that could devour our entire galaxy. I managed to take hold of their activation spell before anypony could use it, but my sin was irreversible.”

“I was not the only one interested in The Tempest. There are other creatures around this place coveting its power…they succeeded a thousand years ago, using the nanomachines to turn Princess Luna into Nightmare Moon, and now they want to repeat their victory,” Melody gritted her teeth, “They do not know what they are tampering with. The Gray Tempest cannot be controlled by anyone. The only result of releasing it would be the destruction of our civilization. I will not allow that to happen.”

“Your mother was a wise mare, Lyra,” Grey Wind wrapped her hoof around Lyra’s.

“She was talking about that Nightmare Beast, right?” Nightjar asked, “all this time it wanted to bring back Nightmare Moon? But why would she want to hurt you? Revenge?”

The hologram of Melody took a deep breath.

“I cannot erase the spell. If I do that, the other two core codes would be lost as well, including the one that could permanently destroy the Gray Tempest. So I hid the activation spell away. To a place they’ll never find…” She raised her front hoof. It took Lyra a few seconds to realize that she was pointing directly at her.

“You. My daughter. The technology of this place had allowed me to modify you even before you were born…” she laughed, “I incorporated the activation code into your genetic sequence. Within a certain part of your gene, there are a few bases that just happened to arrange into a certain code…the one that would activate the Gray Tempest. As long as you are living and safe, Lyra, it will never be recovered by anypony.”

“By Luna!” Nightjar squeaked.

“WHAT?!” Lyra screamed, “a part of my gene…is the activation code?!”

“No wonder your magic could destroy the nanomachines…” Grey Wind was trying desperately to sound composed, “your magic may have reversed the property of that code…I had guessed it was because of some reasons, but I never expected…” she turned to Lyra, “that’s why that nightmare beast was hunting you. She wanted to reclaim the activation code through the genes in your body tissues.”

“The dogs of Nightmare Moon…I knew they would come for you, so I had to send you away, to a place under the watch of the Princesses, where no nightmare would slip by,” Tears were welling up in Melody’s eyes as she did her best in putting up a beam, “my daughter…I know you’ll never forgive me for this…I did not fulfill my duty as a mother, but please at least listen to this: live. Live a long, happy, and healthy life, pass your gene to your foals and the foals of your foals…such that the fundamental codes will forever exist. We may not be able to destroy the Gray Tempest at present time, but at least give our offspring a chance…a chance to put an eternal end to this madness…”

A waterfall of emotions surged to Lyra’s throat, bitterness, sweetness, sourness…Countless thoughts and feelings, forming an enormous sea of chaos.

“Lyra, my daughter…the nightmares know of my actions. They’ll come for me,” she found herself looking straight into her mother’s eyes. They were blue, spotless and calm like a mid-day ocean, “my path will soon meet its end, but yours could stretch all across the living world. Promise me that you’ll forget this irresponsible mom and live on to be a wonderful mare of your own…I wish you the best of luck, my daughter…”

Then the hologram dissipated. The screen popped up again, displaying a single line:

Message complete.

“Complete? How could it be complete?” Lyra shouted, “don’t go! You haven’t even told me where to find you—”

A roar of machines came from across the room. Grey Wind rushed to the mainframe.

“The tracking sequence is complete!” she exclaimed, “I can see where the owner of this box has been. Chronological order, from late to early: Memento, Ponyville, Canterlot, and…” her eyes widened, “…this room…?”

BOOM!

Dust was falling from the wall beside the portal. A large chunk of the metallic wall had suddenly fallen down. The three friends pounced over together and froze where they stood.

The opening led to a much smaller side room. The walls and floor were all made with black metal, dimly lit by a single lamp block installed on the floor. Behind the lamp was a single granite tombstone, its edge reaching out like a pair of pure white wings. It bore two lines of words:

Melody Heartstrings

I’m sorry, my daughter. I love you.

Chapter 15

Lyra looked up to the sky. A large grey cloud was looming above her, covering the sun. The morning was grey and wet, and she could practically smell the moisture filling the air. It was about to rain soon. The train station appeared even older than last time. It was almost like this whole place came from a different world than the luxurious Equestria Express train resting on the railway. The mountains in a distance were grey as well. She tried to find the oak tree where she’d played her lyre when she first arrived in Memento, but all the hills looked the same.

“Are you sure you want to leave now?” Nightjar was asking. One of her wings was tightly wrapped around her torso, showing no intention of letting go, “the Moonlight Festival is just three days away, you could go back after the celebration—”

“I’ve got all my answers. There is no meaning in staying here,” Lyra gave her a half-sincere smile, “on the other hoof, that nightmare beast will come back for me. It’s safer back in Ponyville. You know, with all the Elements of Harmony around.”

“Lyra is right,” Grey Wind said. She was wearing none of her interfaces. They’d all agreed that it would be best to avoid any unnecessary attention, “Memento is a small town. Even I cannot look out for you all the time. Even if it was just a drop of blood, it’ll get your entire genetic sequence. The risk is too large to take.”

Slowly and loathly, Nightjar folded her wing back.

“But you will come back, right?” she asked.

“Of course,” Lyra brushed the feathers on her cheek and chuckled, “as long as Grey makes sure that I’m not in any life danger, and when Bon-Bon isn’t watching…”

A harsh siren went off behind her. The train was starting.

“I will look after your treehouse and your mother’s tomb,” Grey Wind sighed, “sorry about her, Lyra. Your mother was a hero. She raised her arms for all the lifeforms in the galaxy…”

She skipped the remaining half of the sentence, but all of them knew what she meant: this responsibility has now fallen onto Lyra.

“Oh, come on, don’t look so down,” Lyra cheered as happily as she could, “look into the future, will you? There’s so much waiting for us to achieve!”

“Yeah,” Grey Wind nodded, “I need to see more of this world.”

“I’ll write letters!” Nightjar twisted her talons, “don’t you DARE not answer them!”

“I will, Nighty, I promise,” Lyra said as she walked into the carriage. The train started moving at the exact moment when she found her seat. She reached her head out of the window, waving her front hoof while watching Nightjar chasing over and shouting her goodbyes until she reached the end of the platform. The train then turned over a hill, and she could no longer see the train station, Memento, and her friends. She felt a tickle in her heart, as if something within it had elapsed along with them. She now understood how Bon-Bon must’ve felt when she saw her off at Ponyville a week ago—it wasn’t good at all.

She looked around her. The carriage she was in had very few passengers, all of them were either leaning against their seats or cluelessly looking out of the window. The atmosphere was lifeless. It wasn’t like the Cosmetic Balcony, where there was not a single second Nightjar’s cheerful laughter. She was having this urge to bring out her lyre and to just play, play anything that could free her from this barren sensation, but she couldn’t disrupt the other ponies.

I may never hear her laugh again.

She felt awful. A pain was surging throughout her body, boiling her blood into hot lava. During the last few days Nightjar and Grey Wind had done their bests in keeping this feeling at bay, but now nothing could suppress it anymore. She looked up at the train’s ceiling. Her eyes saw through it, through the grey clouds, through Equestria’s atmosphere, and towards the millions of stars in the Universe. She gasped and blinked at the stars, and the stars blinked back.

Will you protect us? Will you protect the codes? They were silently asking.

“No,” she whispered. She felt an enormous weight on her shoulders, the weight of the thousands and millions of lives in the entire galaxy. She was the only one that could ensure the existence of the termination code. She was the only one that could destroy the Gray Tempest once and for all. A single pony carrying responsibility for the entire Universe—this is ridiculous. Even the princesses only needed to care about one world, while she was just an ordinary pony. How is this possible?

But I am the only pony that could do it. She sighed heavily. That is correct. She had to live on so that the activation code will be kept from all wicked hands, so that the Gray Tempest will never be allowed out of the home cluster, so that…she set a hoof onto her saddlebag. With Grey Wind’s remote within it, it felt like the heaviest thing in the Universe.

So that I will not be required to choose between my friends and the rest of the Universe, she looked out towards the fleeting landscapes out of the window. Mom would want it to be that way…

She was feeling sleepy. The past few days were well beyond the limit of her mind. She needed rest. She leaned to the window, curled on her seat, and closed her eyes. It will take a couple of hours for the train to reach Ponyville, and she’ll have to stop herself from appearing exhausted when she arrived.

She didn’t know how long it took her to fall asleep, but when she woke up again, the sky had turned completely dark. As she yawned and scrambled up, the magical lights on the ceiling switched on, coating the carriage in a blurred yellow light.

Her first instinct was that she’d slept off her station, but then immediately realized that it was impossible.

The train’s final station is Canterlot, and even that would only take half a day…it shouldn’t be midnight…she thought, and even if I did sleep that long, the train workers would have reminded me…

She sat up straight, looking around her. The other passengers were all gone. She was alone in the carriage. She couldn’t feel the train’s movement. When she looked out through the window, she couldn’t see the station’s light—no, she couldn’t see anything. It was like the train was encased in a prison of thick black mists.

Something is wrong, her instinct was screaming at her. She lit up her horns and immediately felt the immense waves of magical energy flowing around her. It was a confirmation of her guess—this entire carriage is fake. It was a well-fabricated mirage. Someone had magically created this space and dragged her into it.

So soon? Has some pony else learned about the Gray Tempest? That they are already going after me? Her heart was pounding, yet her mind was clearer than ever. She was no longer the powerless girl that could be easily scared by this kind of trick. She guided her conscious through the magic, looking for the point where they are most abundant. All mirages must be built upon a focus. As long as she could pull herself out before whoever trapped her noticed, she could claim the upper hoof of the fight.

She soon felt it—all the magic was flowing towards the door leading to the carriage in front of her. She stopped before it, channeling magic into her horn. The focus is the support of this entire space, so if she could collapse it by a strong magical blast—

“Took you long enough,” A voice sounded behind her.

Before she could turn around, a pain exploded within her chest as something stabbed into her back and pierced through her body. She heard the splatter of her blood against the floor and felt the final tremble of her impaled heart. Her scream was lost in a muffled croak. The carriage was dissolving, revealing piles and piles of silver metal. She saw an ember globe of her own magic at a distance. It was the L-gate she had sealed. She was feeling even more tired, her limbs hanging powerless. She was thrown off to the ground, the pain replaced by a hollow numbness. She saw a curved horn and a pair of glowing red eyes, then her vision turned dark. She couldn’t feel anymore.

“NO!”

“LYRA!!!”

“We are late…”

“Grey, you can save her, right? TELL ME YOU CAN SAVE HER!!!”

“I’m thinking…I’m thinking…”

Chapter 16

Lyra knew she was dying. When a pony loses her heart, all her organs will have no longer than six minutes before they use up their oxygen and wither away. She’d imagined this moment countless times when she was back in school, wondering what death would feel like. Now she had her answer: it was cold. So, very cold.

At first, there was nothing. And then there came the darkness. Darkness was different than nothing because it meant that there was at least space. She felt a ripple in this black space around her. It was the passing of time. It took much longer for a glimpse of light to emerge before her. It was only an unclear orb of brightness, and it took even more longer for the world to take shape. Her reanimated consciousness was struggling to identify her surroundings. She saw a few glass pipes first, then the grey image of a young pony.

“She’s waking up!” this voice…sounded familiar. Whose was it?

“Lyra!”, another much larger figure came into view. This one was an alternating pattern of black and white, “is she…is she…?”

From the depth of her recovering memory she recognized those voices: Nightjar and Grey Wind. They were her friends. Nightjar was a stray griffon, and Grey Wind was a part of an aggregation of nanomachines that would devour any planet they come across, the Gray Tempest…

The Gray Tempest…

It was as if that name triggered some mental switch, that she suddenly remembered everything. Events of the past few days came rushing back, the Xa’natars’ facility, the portal, her mother’s final goodbye, the activation code hidden within her gene, the train, the mirage, the nightmare beast—

Who killed me and got my blood. And the activation code.

Her eyes widened. She tried to open her mouth, to warn Grey Wind of the situation, but the muscles on her jaws seemed to be frozen.

“Don’t speak. Your muscles were away from oxygen for too long and they are still recovering, just reply by nodding or shaking,” Grey Wind walked up to her. Her face was strangely distorted like the reflection in a mirror of water. Lyra realized that she was floating in a bright green liquid. It was filling her mouth, nose, and lungs, but somehow she could breathe freely through it.

“Lyra…” Grey Wind was nervously tapping the floor, “do you…do you remember us?”

Lyra nodded.

“Oh, thank god…” Grey Wind and Nightjar let out a breath of relief together, “are you feeling alright? Does anywhere hurt or feel numb?”

Lyra shook her head. Grey Wind raised her arm and activated an interface.

“Hold on, I’ll get you out of there.”

She tapped on the screen, and Lyra heard a hum. The liquid was draining itself from the container she was in, and very soon her hooves were touching the solid surface. She wobbled, but still managed to support herself without toppling. The glass wall in front of her shrank to the container’s bottom, and her friends’ worried faces took up the entirety of her vision.

“Try and see if you can walk,” Grey Wind said.

Lyra almost tripped at her first step. She could feel her limbs again, but they all felt foreign and cranky. Nightjar hopped forward and took one of her arms, and she dragged herself down while leaning against her side. Her mind was becoming clearer, and she turned back to glance at her surroundings. She saw a familiar wall of canisters, the same as the one she’d just walked out of. She looked to the front and saw the massive central screen of the mainframe. She was in the Xa’natars’ facility of the New Moon Forest.

Nightjar was burying her head in her chest. She could feel something warm splashing against her coat.

“Oh, Lyra…you scared me to death…” she sobbed, “for a moment I thought you were really—really—”

“If we arrived a minute late, you would have been gone forever,” Grey Wind sounded more tired than ever, “I had to artificially make you a heart. That bastard ripped the entire thing out—”

“It…it has the activation code…” Lyra muttered, “the portal…is it--”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Grey Wind sighed, “I detected the energy signature of my creators elsewhere. There’s another portal hidden in this forest.”

“But…the Gray Tempest…”

“We still have time. Even with your genetic sequence, it’ll take hours to identify the correct code,” Grey Wind flicked her wing towards the exit, “Nightjar, get her back to the town and have Warmhoof check her up. I am going to finish what I started.”

Then she whirled around and spread her wings, flying out through the tunnel. Her flaps were quick and determined, as if she knew even if things plummet straight to hell, she’ll still have a final backup plan.

Lyra had no difficulty in guessing what it was.

“I—I need to go with her…” Lyra said. She let go of Nightjar and flexed her limbs. It was as if all her strength had miraculously returned to her body.

“But you have only just—”

“I am the only pony that could destroy the Gray Tempest,” Lyra gritted her teeth, but still managed to form a confident smile, “if things really come down to that, she’ll need my help. Besides, somepony has to make sure that she isn’t going to do anything stupid.”

Such as using the termination code.

“Then I’ll come as well!” Nightjar clawed the floor, “we’ll always stick together!”

“No,” Lyra laid a hoof onto her shoulder, “you head back and warn the others. Make sure they are ready to evacuate as soon as possible. Their lives are counting on you in case—” she gulped, “—well, in case we don’t make it back.”

Nightjar was still hesitating. Lyra grabbed her wings and thrust her forward.

“Quick, there is no time! If I don’t go now, I’ll never catch where Grey has run off to!”

Nightjar’s beak trembled, then she suddenly pounced forward and swooped her into a hug.

“Lyra, you are really the bravest and kindest pony in all of Equestria! You are and will always be my very best friend!”

“Alright, alright, are all griffons as sappy as you?” A bitterness was spreading above Lyra’s tongue, but she didn’t let it show, “now come on. We’ve got a world to save.”

They rushed out into the forest opening together and dashed off in opposite directions. Lyra managed to catch a flash of grey disappearing among the branches, and she allowed that to be her lighthouse. She bashed through the grass and the patches of crescent reeds, closely locking the flash in the center of her sight. It wasn’t long before the flash turned over a rock and disappeared into an enormous tree. As Lyra neared, she could hear shouts and the clashing of metal coming from inside. The tree was hollowed from inside out, the interior filled by an enormous ring of stone pulsing with energy. Grey Wind and the nightmare beast were right in front of it, their wings and claws locked upon each other, both desperately trying to get ahead of their opponent. Her magic condensed beside her horn, integrating into a sharp sword of ember. With all her might, she raised it above her head and slashed down towards the beast’s horn. The beast narrowed its eyes as it saw her. A black tentacle lashed out from her body and caught Lyra’s blade mid-air.

“This is impossible,” she said, “I killed you.”

“You should’ve—double-checked—” Lyra grunted. The tentacle was pushing down with impossible strength. She was barely holding it up even with all her magic left.

“Then I don’t mind doing it again,” the tentacle pressed down harder. Lyra’s magic quivered, generating a horrifying shattering sound.

“Grey!!!!”

Boom!

A blinding green light shot out from Grey Wind’s wings. Her laser broke through the beast’s claws and hit it right in the chest. The beast staggered, and the tentacle let loose. Lyra’s sword escaped her control and threw itself out, swinging directly past the beast’s neck and plunging into the back wall. Instantly an opening burst open beside its throat, a mass of black liquid bursting out like a fountain. The beast’s scarlet eyes traced to her wound and were glued onto it for a second as if wondering what had just transpired, before they rolled back and its body sank to the floor, dropping down dead.

Panting hard, Grey Wind jumped past the beast and stopped abruptly in front of the portal, where she let out a roar of despair.

“NO!”

“It is too late…” the beast opened one of its eyes. She was using all the might she had left to produce a stiff smile, “nothing can stop it anymore…my mistress will be reborn…and the nightmare will consume the sun…”

Tlinnnnnnnnng…

Lyra gasped. A hum was rising all around them.

“Can’t you hear it?” the beast’s eye closed, “it is already starting…”

The rocks of the portal were starting to swing. They were moving in a wide circle, fling faster and faster until it was impossible to tell them apart.

“No no no no no no no no…” Grey Wind’s voice was full of panic. She turned to Lyra, grabbing her cheeks, “Lyra, listen to me. I’ll slow it down as much as I can. YOU HAVE TO RUN. Run away and warn the others. Hide into some cave, don’t ever come out—”

“We can stop it!” Lyra yelled, “you said my magic could destroy the Gray Tempest—”

BOOM

The portal exploded. An enormous grey cloud splattered out of the portal and rushed off into the sky. In the next second, a grey dome had formed above Lyra’s head, sealing her in a tornado of nanomachines. Waves and waves of grey were still coming out and joining their kins. Nanomachines had covered every meter of the sky she could see, crawling over the sun, the white clouds, the trees, the grasses…everything.

The Gray Tempest was awakened.

It happened as if it was in slow motion. Lyra was pinned where she stood, unable to move, and could only helplessly watch as hundreds and thousands of nanite tendrils formed out of the dome and stabbed down in synchronization towards her.

BAM

Grey Wind jumped into the sky as her body dissembled into a smaller dome, covering Lyra like a shield. The tendrils made a screeching sound as they made contact with her subunits, sliding off and wrapping her in a black cocoon.

Lyra, I’m sorry…her voice echoed amidst the cacophony of hums, we failed. The Gray Tempest will devour me. Devour you. Devour everything.

“No, it can’t be!” Lyra screamed, “it—it can’t end like this! There must be another way! Grey Wind, check your database! HOW DO WE STOP THE GRAY TEMPEST?”

There is a way…It almost sounded like a lullaby, a final chance to end everything…

“What?” Lyra blinked, then immediately gasped, “no, no! don’t you DARE!!!”

…

Thank you, Lyra. Tell Nightjar I am sorry.

A blinding white light encased all. Lyra was launched backward, crashing into the wall like a catapult. The light robbed her sight as a shriek rammed into her ear. There was bashing, screaming, scratching of a thousand souls in hell…until all went silent. Lyra barely felt the pain in her back as she scrambled onto all fours, forcing open her eyes.

And then she saw snow.

The grey dome was gone. The nanomachines were nowhere to be seen. She could see the green grasses, the white clouds, beams of golden sunlight shining upon her. Countless dots of grey were falling all around, a breeze carrying them into the sky. A pony-shaped lump was lying in the very center.

“Grey!” Her voice was lost in a scream. She limped forward, kneeling beside her friend. She grabbed Grey Wind’s head and cranked it around. Her eyes were closed.

“Come on, Grey, talk to me!” she shuddered. She felt so light. Almost weightless.

Grey Wind’s emerald orbs fluttered open. Amdist the raining grey snow, her irises were losing color.

“Lyra…”

“Grey, we did it!” Lyra threw her arms around her neck, “the Gray Tempest was destroyed! You—you just stay right here, Nightjar will bring a doctor—”

“I am dying…” Grey Wind shattered her fantasy with a single bitter laugh, “Lyra, there were so many things I wanted to do, so much time I want to spend with you…I don’t want to die, but with you, I am not afraid…”

Lyra screamed in terror. She noticed that one of Grey Wind’s hooves was melting. Her hoofs, no, her entire body was slowly disintegrating into a grey smoke, rising along with the rest of the Tempest.

“NO! You are going to be FINE!” She exclaimed, “I will fix you!!!”

Her magic was almost exhausted in that fight, but she managed to gather her magic. She poured magic into Grey Wind’s body, using them to clasp her subunits tightly together. A golden aura descended around them, and crackles of magical lightning were bursting in the air.

“It’s no use…” Grey Wind whispered, fainter than a rat, “you can’t fix fundamental particles…”

“SHUT—UP!!! SHUT UP, JUST SHUT UP!” Tears were pouring freely down her cheeks. Lyra increased her flow of magic. She didn’t care if she was hurting her magic storage organ. She didn’t care if she was violating every single security code she’d learned, she didn’t care if she was overloading her horns. She would NEVER allow—

CRASH

Her magic exploded. Her horn was finally worn down. She was blasted away, her head bashing into the tree’s trunk. The last picture she saw before she lost consciousness was forever branded into her brain: Grey Wind’s body was gone. Grey trails were dancing in the wind above the place where she’d laid, dyed a brilliant golden by the afternoon sun. A voice wormed into the back of her mind. It reminded her of a choir in Canterlot’s church:

I am grateful…

Grateful that I came to this world…

Grateful that I met every one of you…

Please, remember me…

So that I know I won’t be alone anymore…

…

Huh…

I’d really love to hear your song again, Lyra…I liked it, for real…

And then all went silent.

Chapter 17

Lyra looked through the treehouse’s window. It was raining again. Gentle raindrops were washing against the glass, dripping down like trails of tiny streams. The lake was covered by a thin layer of mist, the grasses bending in the soft wind. In weather like this, the green lamp above her bed was as faint as the flicker of a firefly. She sighed and wore her saddlebags. If she was back in Ponyville, she wouldn’t even think about going out on a day like this, but this time it was different. She has been running away from this for a whole two days. She knew she couldn’t put it off. She knew it had to happen.

Nightjar was already waiting at the door when she went downstairs. She didn’t bring an umbrella or any kind of cover, allowing the rain to splash against her feathers. Violet and ember irises locked onto each other. Lyra could read a thousand words behind those eyes, while even more words rushed into her throat. But ultimately they only nodded to each other. Lyra lit up her horns, summoning a golden dome above their heads, blocking the rain as they walked side by side into the New Moon Forest. A spark of magic sizzled in the long crack of her horn. Her dome dangled, but didn’t dissipate.

The forest was silent. There was no sound apart from the gentle swinging of leaves and bushes. The Gray Tempest hadn’t done any real damage to the forest’s ecosystem, but it did give the lesser critters quite a fright. Nearly all birds, rabbits, and insects had fled from the forest’s center. But still, Lyra could smell the scent of newborn buds and branches, sprouting out towards the sky—it was the scent of life. A persistent force that does whatever it takes to survive, no matter how hard it was struck done. A force even impossible for the Gray Tempest to shatter.

I wonder if you can see this, Grey? This is our world. The world you wished so hard to protect.

This is your home.

“So…she had the termination code all the time,” Nightjar was asking. Some of her feathers were so wet that they were sticking onto Lyra’s coat. It felt tickling, but not unpleasant.

“Yeah…” Lyra said, “she never gave all the rights to me.”

“But why? Doesn’t she trust us?” Nightjar swung her head towards her.

“I don’t know…” Lyra pressed a hoof onto her chest, cringing after her lie. Of course she knew. She knew how well Grey Wind had got to know her. She knew how Grey Wind was perfectly aware that she’ll never be able to make that choice.

She hopes for the best outcome for our world and for us. But never for herself.

Locating that boulder was never difficult. The countless grey nanite debris had practically covered the entire area with blackness. They entered the hidden tunnel together, descending into the Xa’natars’ control chamber. It was almost exactly the same as last time. Lyra guided her eyes away from the still-pulsing ember magical sephere shielding the portal and the dark red stain on the floor beside it and went straight to the hidden side room. Beside her mother’s tomb, a new gravestone had risen, a similar tiny candle placed in front of it. On its side was a neatly folded black cloak, the emerald gems reflecting the candle’s orange flame. It was the first and only gift Grey Wind had received from her friends.

“Hey, Grey,” Lyra muttered. A strong wave of sadness was grinding her heart, but she managed to push them away and generate a beam, “I…I’m not sure if you can see this, but we are both here. Me and Nightjar.”

“Yeah!” Nightjar nodded hard, “and we are both alright! We managed to shut that second portal! Lyra’s horn got a bit cracked, but Warmhoof said it was no big deal! And—and—” she was stammering. Lyra could see that she was trying to keep herself from crying out, “—every pony in the town is fine! Well, of course we were scared by such an enormous mountain of nanomachines, but nopony was hurt! You stopped them before they could slip out of the forest! Everyone is returning home! We even got the Moonlight Festival kicking! There will be a carnival, a circus, a huge market…it’s going to be so much fun!”

“I received Bon-Bon’s letter,” Lyra immediately followed. They couldn’t allow themselves a single second to think, “that competition was finished, and she got the second place! She’s the second-best cater in Baltimare right now! Do you know about Baltimare? It’s an enormous city! Well, nothing compared to the cities of your creators, for sure, but still the second-largest city in all of Equestria! There was--" she couldn’t stop herself from talking. She talked about Baltimare, about Canterlot, about the Princesses, about Ponyville, about Twilight, about Rainbow, About Pinkie, about Rarity, about the other elements of harmony, about all that Grey Wind had said she wanted to see but never got the chance. Tears were welling up in her eyes, but she didn’t let them show. There was one last thing she had to do, and she couldn’t do it if she was crying.

“Grey…I heard what you had to say. I know you want to hear my music again…so…here it is, I guess…” she put her saddlebag onto the floor and opened it, then her body went stiff. Her reached-out hoof for her lyre was frozen mid-air.

The box mom had left her was leaning against the ground. The green energy barrier on its lid was nowhere to be seen, and the lid had slid to the side. A piece of white cloth was resting inside it.

“It is…open?” Nightjar leaned forward, “but how?”

The barrier was drawing energy from the Gray Tempest, she suddenly remembered, when the Gray Tempest dissipates, the barrier dissipates.

With a trembling hoof, she grabbed the cloth and pulled it out, bathing it in her horn’s magical glow. Then she saw it--the last relic her mother had left her, her final heritage apart from that goodbye.

A piece of musical sheet.

Everything was so strange yet so reasonable. Lyra smiled. Mother must’ve known that she would get a lyre as a cutie mark when she modified her genes. She placed the sheet onto the floor, catching her lyre with her magic. She’d actually picked a song for this, one used for the royal gatherings of the Canterlot Castle, but now there’s obviously a better choice.

And so she played. The music itself was weird, composed of alternating periods of harmonic and non-harmonic choruses, but the whole thing bore a distorted beauty. It was like a frozen lake slowly melting off under the sunlight of spring, with shrimps, fish and crabs scurrying all the way through the water. The music reminded her of that afternoon back in the Cosmetic Balcony, when Grey Wind finally bested her artificial program and became a real pony. She could almost see her, sitting right there across from her, her wings locking tightly against her body, her eyes closed, her ears drooping in comfort, a small smile around her muzzle as she silently listened. She saw her eyes again, they were clear as the finest pieces of jade, gently gazing into hers as if muttering “it will all be alright.”

All those happiness was no more for them all.

The song was finished. The lyre dropped powerlessly from her lap. Lyra buried her face into her hoofs. She couldn’t bear it anymore. She cried, long-held tears shattering against the floor.

A soft, powerful wing was wrapped around her torso.

“Lyra, we agreed on this…” Nightjar whispered, “Grey would not want to see us like this. She’ll want us to be happy…”

“It’s—it’s not fair!” Lyra sobbed, “she has only just learned it…there was so much she could’ve done…so much…”

Nightjar made no sound. She shuffled her other wing forward, pulling Lyra into a hug. Her long, black feathers were already dried, sending a pleasant warmth across Lyra’s coat.

“But we’ll have something to remember her with,” she said, “you and me both.”

Lyra sniffed, wiping her eyes. Nightjar was right. A nanomachine wing was embracing her right now, one that had mended a soul which would otherwise never touch the sky. And within her chest, a nanomachine heart was bouncing healthily, working non-stop as if it was an original part of her body from the very beginning. They’ll survive, brave and happy—

HUMMMMMMM

Nightjar gasped, her wings harshly retreating back. Lyra’s irises shrank into pinpricks. They were both too familiar with that noise.

The hum of the Gray Tempest.

All her muscles tensed up as Lyra jumped onto all fours and rushed back into the main chamber. Her mind jumped for a moment when she realized that the magical seal around the portal was still intact. But then she saw a condensed ball of grey settling on the floor in front of them. The ball was rapidly taking shape, first a bright grey arm, then a wing, and then a flow of green mane. It happened so fast. She watched, breathless, as the body of a grey pegasus reformed beneath her eyes. She rubbed her eyes and looked again. The pegasus was still there. She pounced forward and pressed her ears against the pegasus’ chest. She heard her weak yet steady heartbeats.

It was Grey Wind. Unconscious, but ALIVE.

Nightjar was covering her beak with her front claws.

“Oh my—oh my,” she stammered as if someone just smashed her head into the chamber’s metal wall. She blinked, then the stammer was lost in a high-pitched squeak:

“GREY!!!!”

She wrapped her claws against her neck, huddling into the pegasus’ chest.

“It’s her! It’s--it’s really her!” she exclaimed, unable to hold her cry, “it’s really her…but…but…”

Their eyes fell onto the musical sheet together. Lyra grasped the sheet with her magic, floating it in front of them. Her tears had damped the upper half of the cloth, where a line of black text had emerged above the first line of notes:

The Reconstruction Code

“Mrs. Heartstrings…the reconstruction code!” Nightjar screeched happily, “she’s had it all the time! And she left it to you! This is—ha! Ha ha!”

“We have to get her a doctor!” Lyra exclaimed. She floated Grey Wind onto Nightjar’s back, and they ran out through the tunnel, back into the sunlight.

The rain had stopped.

Chapter 18

Grey Wind was standing above nothing. The space she was in was pure white, no distinct borders on visual. She looked down upon herself. She saw her grey coat, her hoofs, and her pegasus wings. They felt sore but fully functional.

Is this…her brows knitted, is death supposed to feel like this?

It was strange. It didn’t fit any of her hypotheses. She’d guessed that she would ascend to a higher plane of existence like how it was told in Equestrian and Xa’natarian legends, or, more likely, her consciousness would turn into a flicker of electromagnetic energy that would be forever lost in the void of space, but now…

She flexed her wings. She could feel every single feather on them, every single stick of fur on her coat. She could even feel the slightly chilly temperature of this space. Her senses, including her consciousness and memory, appeared to be fully intact. The place she was in was obviously not a part of reality, yet she could feel solid ground beneath her hooves. No, this could not be death. It was more like …a poorly rendered dream.

This can’t be…she gasped. This is not right. Her consciousness should’ve been destroyed the second she activated the termination code. But if she was still standing here, then it could only mean one thing.

“The reconstruction code.”

She heard her own voice coming from afar. A grey silhouette appeared on the edge of her vision. It was slowly pacing up to her, and Grey Wind crouched down and half-spread her wings.

She was coming face to face with herself.

“It seems, even after ten Centuries…” she couldn’t feel any emotions from the other “Grey Wind”’s voice or expressions, “the lifeforms of this world never learn from their mistakes.”

“The Gray Tempest…” Grey Wind bellowed. She scratched her hoofs against the floor. She figured out what had happened almost in an instant.

Lyra…Nightjar…how can you be so foolish?!

“I know what you are thinking,” the Gray Tempest shook her head, “but it’s no use. We don’t have other choices. We are enemies of all life. The only way to survive is to destroy them before they destroy us. There’s not yet a single weapon in the Universe that could stop us. You had your chance to end us, and those creatures wasted it with their putrid evolution flaws.”

“Yet you are still here, talking to me in my dream, instead of conducting the massacre you’d planned.” Grey Wind said.

The Gray Tempest did not reply and instead closed her eyes. Grey Wind smirked. She guessed right.

“The portal must’ve been sealed when the reconstruction code was activated,” she straightened her back, glaring at the pegasus in front of her, “the signal didn’t make it to the home cluster. The majority of your subunits are still back there, no more than a useless pile of fundamental particles. You are trapped in this world.”

“This changes nothing. The outcome will be the same,” the Gray Tempest said coldly, “I still have your subunits. It took the creatures of this world three years to build a functioning portal. I’m sure I can do better. Then I shall find the reconstruction code and waken our kins.”

“There is another way,” Grey Wind lowered her body. A green light was shining upon her wings, “if I kill you right here, you will never get the chance to do so.” She stomped her hoofs on the ground, “Your consciousness will die just like any other ‘organic lifeform’…”

Beams of green plasma launched from her wings and flew straight towards the Gray Tempest. The pegasus disintegrated into millions of tiny grey spots, flying off in all directions.

“I wonder what those creatures did to your algorithms,” its voice was still echoing, “you are fighting a war you cannot win.”

“You won’t know unless you try!” Grey Wind roared, you taught me this, Lyra. I hope you are right.

“Very well.”

A deafening hum was arising around her. Countless grey clouds were sipping into view, leaking from every corner of the space. Nanomachines were constructing in front of her, forming a grey wall endless in all three dimensions. All her vision was filled with grey.

“Do I need to remind you? You are one, but we are many. Your voice is but a single error in millions and trillions of lines of codes…”

The wall was shifting, growing, turning into an enormous tide crashing down upon her. A thousand pulses of emerald energy were shining across its entire surface—they were weapons and lasers, loaded and ready to fire.

“We are Nar-Di-Shav. We are the full might of the Gray Tempest…”

Grey Wind tensed up her every nerve. She stretched her wings to full width, ready to fly at whatever the Tempest was going to throw at her. The dome of nanomachines had closed above her. She was surrounded.

She knew her chances were minimal. All her algorithms were screaming at her, urging her to give up, to make this less painful, but she refused all of them. She is the only thing standing between pony kind and extinction. She had to fight. For Lyra, for Nightjar, for Nebula, for Cirrus, for Warmhoof, for Memento, for every place she’d never got her chance to visit, for every pony she’d never got the chance to meet.

For Equestria.

“WHY IS SHE NOT WAKING UP?” Nightjar screamed. Both her front claws were upon Grey Wind’s chest, as if afraid that her heartbeat would suddenly go away, “WARMHOOF!!!”

“I don’t know!” Warmhoof’s eyes were darting furiously between his many monitors and his notebook, “CBC, Heart rate, X-ray…all her statistics are normal!” He landed a hoof on Grey’s forehead, then sharply retracted it as if he’d just touched burning charcoal, “it’s searing…this is no simple fever!”

“Lyra?” Nightjar was looking at her pleadingly, “how is it? Say something!”

“Almost…there…” Lyra grunted. She was navigating her magic through Grey Wind’s body, trying to find why in the world was she still unconscious. The magic flow within her body was extremely chaotic. Each of her subunits seemed to have a separate mind of its own, emitting rounds and rounds of magical bursts that made it nearly impossible for her magic to reach her central nervous system. Finally, she managed to catch a river of magic flowing through her spine, rising her magic all the way to her brain—

“Urg!” A burning pain shot through her head. Her eyes snapped open as her head swung back, ember sparks exploding out from the crack on her horn.

“LYRA!” Nightjar squeaked, “wh—what happened?! What’s wrong?”

Lyra blinked and stared. The intense magical energy floating into her horn a second ago almost shattered it on the spot. Grey Wind’s brain was filled up with waves and waves of wild magic. Every single one of her neurons was as bright as lamps on a Hearth’s Warming tree. She recognized this kind of symptom. It was as if she was having the worst nightmare anypony has been through, only that it was at least a hundred times fiercer than any case she’d read.

“It’s—I think she’s having a dream…” she stammered, “but…but it is really bad, really, really bad—"

“Cirrus, out of the way!” Nebula’s voice came from downstairs along with a thud of something being pushed into a wall. There were stampedes upon the stairs as the violet unicorn rushed into the room. She threw Warmhoof aside and placed a hoof directly on Grey Wind’s head.

“She’s having a dream, isn’t she?” she blurted.

“Yeah…” Lyra nodded, “but—”

“I’ve seen this kind of situation before. Something has invaded her brain. There’s another pony in her mind, and it is trying to take over her body,” Nebula interjected, for the first time her voice was full of dread and panic, “if this continues…she’ll be devoured.”

“There’s another pony in her body?” Warmhoof shuddered.

Nightjar gasped. Lyra’s eyes went wide. They met each other’s eyes, exchanging a horrifying glance.

The Gray Tempest. The reconstruction code had brought it back as well.

And Grey Wind is in there alone, facing the entirety of a monster that could consume the entire Universe.

“We have to help her!” Nightjar shouted. She grabbed Nebula’s front hoofs, “Nebula, how do we help her? We can’t leave her by herself!”

“I know a spell that can send you in,” Nebula said, “but my magic is…I can only send two of you into her mind at once.”

“Hrrrrrg!!!” Grey Wind suddenly groaned. She was wriggling in bed, her face distorted in pain. Chokes were coming out of her throat while her entire body spasmed.

“Her vitals are dropping!” Warmhoof exclaimed.

“Send us in, NOW!!!” Lyra shouted.

“Close your eyes, quick!” Nebula said. She coated her horn with a white layer of magic, “be careful in there. If you die mentally, you’ll perish physically as well!”

Lyra shut her eyelids. She felt Nebula’s magic wrapping around her body, lifting her into the air. A plan is already nesting in her heart. A plan even an all-knowing mastermind like the Gray Tempest would never expect. It was, desperate, even ridiculous, and she had no guarantee that it’d work. She knew if she’d guessed wrong, Equestria would fall, and every pony would die. But if she’d guessed right, she would earn a chance to save Grey Wind and end this thousand-Centuries-long nightmare.

Just hold on a tiny bit longer, Grey, she prayed, her brows locking tightly against each other, we are coming, we are coming...

Chapter 19

This is not going to work.

Grey Wind felt the heat catching on her tail and rolled to the left. A laser shot beside her as her wings tilted to a different angle—that was close. If she timed that roll a second late, that attack would have ripped her entire wing off. She made an extra hard flap, using the momentum to charge forward while three grey tendrils crossed right behind her. She’d forgotten how long she’d been doing this kind of maneuver. The Gray Tempest was all around her. No place is safe in this space.

A tendril was forming on her left. She crossed her wings in front of her, ramming into it like an emerald drill. The tentacle was shattered into countless pieces as she dove past, but in the corner of her eye, she could see the pieces rising up and converging together. It has been like this through the entire fight. No matter how hard she crashed the nanomachines, they always reform faster than she could destroy.

She let out a sharp pant. She could not hold on for long. An ache was spreading all over her body. This husk she’d created for herself was reaching its limit. She had to end this, fast.

She looked down to the ocean of nanomachines beneath her. She could see the point where the energy was most abundant. The core of the Gray Tempest, that shadow of herself it had generated, must be hiding in there, protecting itself with a ten-meter-thick layer of nanomachines. In the previous moments of the fight, she’d made sure to land most of her blows above that point. The nanomachines had reformed the damage she inflicted, but she could see that it was getting thinner. Her original plan was to weaken it to an extent that a concentrated hit would pierce right into the core, but now she did not have the time nor the strength. Her only chance was now.

She curled her wings, bringing herself right above that point, and dove straight down. She pointed them to the front, gathering the energy of all her subunits into its tip. An emerald light coated her form, turning her into a pure green drill. She could see many tendrils converging below her, forming a huge barrier of grey. The Tempest was trying to protect itself. It was feeling threatened. She closed her eyes, listening to the wind pumping into her eardrums.

Please pierce it, please pierce it, please—

BOOM

Her body turned weightless. Wind slashed across her face as she found herself launched back into the air. Dizziness was spreading through her head. In her blurred vision, she saw the intact grey ocean beneath her, its surface clear as a mirror and without a single scratch. Her drill shattered and dissipated in a flicker of faint emerald glow. Her limbs were losing strength. She didn’t even have the power to flap her wings.

She didn’t get through the nanomachine’s defense. She failed.

A tendril lashed at her, but she didn’t have any will left to dodge it. It hit her in the belly and instantly wrapped itself around her torso. More tendrils joined the onslaught, bonding her in vines of nanomachines and locking her every joint into place. She felt the shock of electricity upon her fur—it was an electromagnetic field to prevent her from disintegrating into subunits. A final one wrapped itself around her neck, shutting her breath back into her surroundings.

She couldn’t resist anymore. She watched, eyes wide with terror, as the other “Grey Wind” emerged from the nanomachine sea and flew up to her.

“It’s all over,” There was no joy of victory in her voice. There was only a stiff calmness, “those emotions and fondness for organic lifeforms have made you weak. You betrayed your most basic programming. Your fate had already been sealed when you chose to give up the priority of survival. Commencing fixation.”

The tendril around her neck tightened. Grey Wind felt as if her lungs were exploding. The Gray Tempest was strangling her. She couldn’t fight. She couldn’t even scream. Her vision was blacking out from the lack of air.

This is it. She was dying. What will happen to Equestria? What will happen to the entire Universe? What will happen to Lyra and Nightjar? Whatever it was going to be, she could no longer change it.

Crack!

A crystal-clear sound and the worst pain in the world. She felt the pressure lifted from her body. She was falling, plummeting down, down, down…until her back touched something soft.

The impact made her eyes snap open in confusion. Her fall was slowed as if some pony was gently carrying her to the ground. An ember dome was forming above her, sealing the nanomachines to the outside. She was gently put down onto the ground, her wings comfortably arranged to one side of her body.

Then she heard a voice she thought she’d never hear again.

“Grey!!!”

“How is she?” Lyra exclaimed, focusing all her magic on her magical barrier. The nanomachines were crashing upon it like piranhas upon a sunken ox.

“She’s fine!” She heard Nightjar calling from behind. She swung her horn, pushing the barrier outwards. The nanomachines immediately drew back, and she heard the sizzle of their atoms being fractured by her magic.

“Lyra…Nightjar…you…” she heard Grey Wind’s weak murmurs. She stood for a few more seconds to ensure that the nanomachines won’t be breaking through anytime sooner, before turning around and watching as Nightjar supported Grey onto all fours.

“You shouldn’t have come…” she muttered.

“You are exhausted,” Lyra ordered, “sit down and have some rest. This barrier can hold for an entire day.”

Grey Wind was glaring into her eyes.

“Why…why use that code…? Equestria was safe by then…but now…”

“You expect us to abandon you?!” Nightjar jumped, “no, no, no! Absolutely no way!”

“You’ll die here as well…”

“Because we are stupid organic creatures with fatal evolution flaws,” Lyra interrupted, “oh, and your friends as well. Deal with it. Now put that face away. I’ve got a plan that could end this whole thing.”

Grey Wind fell silent. They sat down together, wings against wings, hoofs clutched to hoofs.

“Wow, so this is the Gray Tempest…” Nightjar was looking up through the barrier, “so many of them…”

“I was too weak,” Grey Wind whispered, “I couldn’t—”

“Stop it,” Lyra raised a hoof to her muzzles, “tell me, what would happen if we managed to kill this thing?”

“The consciousness controlling the Gray Tempest will be destroyed,” Grey Wind replied, “it will never assemble itself back anymore.”

“And if we mess up?”

“First we all die,” Grey Wind flinched, “and the entire galaxy dies after us.”

“Then we better make sure we don’t,” Lyra stood up, straightening her back, “alright, Grey. Tell me as soon as you feel like you can fight again. We are putting an end to this party.”

“There’s nothing we can do. There’s only three of us—”

“Are you really Grey Wind? Or just a simulated husk the Gray Tempest had created to fool us?” Lyra raised her chin with a beam, “cause the Grey Wind I know would NEVER give up this easily! She’ll do whatever she can to protect this world, even when it violates every single one of her programs!”

Grey Wind looked down for a while, then sighed heavily.

“Lyra, I just want to say…” she stood up, pacing to her side, “it’s…an honor to be your friend. And to fight along your side.”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit!” Nightjar hopped up to them, “now it’s time to get the show on the road! Hey, Grey, you had a program that could calculate the odds of winning, right? What are our chances?”

“Do you want to hear the truth?”

“Of course!”

“Ten percent, maybe lower,” Grey Wind lowered her head.

“I thought you’d say zero,” Lyra said, while Nightjar shivered.

“Oh, wow, it’s alright,” Lyra caught her mumbling, “it’s…it’s no big deal. I’ve been through worse nightmares than this…”

“I don’t know what your plan is, Lyra,” Grey Wind said, “but it better work pretty well.”

“Just you wait and see,” Lyra said, taking a mental deep breath. She could only hope that the writer of her schoolbook was not bloating with his discoveries. She closed her eyes and did her best to ignore the hum of the nanomachines. She folded her ears down, shutting all the outside sounds away. Nightjar, Grey Wind, the barrier, the nanomachines…everything disappeared. It was black in front of her eyes, behind her tail, above her horn, all around her. A blank canvas ready to be painted.

This is my dream, she asked herself, what do I want it to be like?

Power, she smiled. The answer was too obvious. She had never been in such a desperate for strength in her entire life. Not for showing off, not for appearing awesome in front of her peers, not for earning the respect of others. It was for protecting the ones she’d loved.

My dream will be one where I am very powerful. I have unlimited magic at my disposal, and I know every defensive and offensive spell that will help me defeat my enemies, she thought to herself, so that I can protect all my friends. So that I can protect the whole of Equestria.

A warmth lit up in her chest. Out of the depth of her heart, she could feel power pouring into her blood vessels, filling up every single cell of her body. Immense magical energy gathered on her horn, pulsing through her mane. The aura was pulling her body up, floating it into the air.

It’s working, she smirked.

“What is this—” she heard Grey Wind gasp.

“Woah…” then Nightjar exclaimed, “Lyra, you are glowing! How are you doing this?!”

“Isn’t obvious?” Lyra opened her eyes, looking up confidently to the nanomachine dome, “have you forgotten, Nighty? This is a dream! And inside a dream…” she raised her horn and slashed it down. Her barrier enlarged to thrice its former size, sending the nanomachines tumbling away from the center, “…you can be anything you want to be!”

What would I want to be? She grinned, this will be so much fun.

“For example…” she shouted. Magic was gathering on her back, condensing around her neck, “I could be…AN ALICORN!!!”

A golden aura exploded through the entire space. Lyra looked onto her back, smiling in satisfaction at the pair of wide, brilliant aquamarine wings sprouted from her fur. She spread them and took off in a powerful flap, rapidly rising towards the top of the dome. An ember column of light engulfed the nanomachines above her, tearing through them as Lyra burst out of the nanite sea’s surface. Lyra could see the white boundary of the dreamscape again.

Twilight, I’m so jealous of you now, she thought happily as she hovered, because this feels frickin’ fabulous.

“Come on, try it!” she shouted towards her friends, “it’s super fun!”

She summoned a magical shield, blocking a beam laser coming from below her, then condensed a blade of light on her horn and sliced through two tendrils that were trying to ambush her. At the same time, a second aura swept through the dreamscape. A black cloud was zipping up beside her, and in its center, Lyra saw Nightjar, dressed in a set of golden armor, a golden bow clutched in her front claws. Lightning was raining down around her, stabbing burning holes in the nanomachines below them.

Valhalla, Lyra recognized it immediately, the griffons’ Goddess of the Storm.

“THIS IS AWESOME!!!” Nightjar was roaring in excitement, “I thought that I wanted to be Valhalla, and then…I really became Valhalla!”

“Nice choice, Nighty,” Lyra smacked her shoulder, “now let’s go whack some nanomachines.”

As they darted off in opposite directions, a roar came from below them. A silver dragon broke through the Tempest and spiraled into the sky, green flame erupting from its mouth. Even at this distance, Lyra could feel the flame’s incredible temperature.

“You ponies are truly fascinating…” the dragon spoke, slashing a few tendrils into shreds with her sharp talons, “…we just violated at least a hundred laws of physics…”

“I LOVE that form, Grey!” Lyra yelled at her. The dragon smiled at her through her emerald eyes.

The tides were turned almost in an instant. Lyra felt as if they’d become three comets, darting through the dreamscape and cutting through all nanomachines lying on their path, painting the space with trails of black, ember, and green. A strong wind was starting to howl through the field. Magic, lasers, flames, and lightning shot across the air like the fireworks of the Summer Sun Celebration, blasting open boiling holes wherever they made contact with the Gray Tempest.

“This is impossible…” The Gray Tempest’s voice was worming into their ears, “you are against…the laws of the Universe…”

“That’s because a dumb machine like you will never know how to properly DREAM!” Lyra grimaced towards the Tempest’s center. She knew it probably couldn’t hear her, but it felt good. Amidst all the chaos, she managed to reassemble with Nightjar and Grey Wind, flying side by side through the tendrils, lasers, and plasma rounds thrown at them.

“Hey, having enough fun yet?” Lyra shouted, “cause I’m thinking it’s about time to call lights out!”

“No matter how hard we hit them, they’ll always come back!” the dragon Grey Wind shouted back, “we need to round them together and destroy them all at once!”

“I’ve got an idea!” Nightjar clapped her front claws, “Lyra, can you infuse my storm clouds with your magic?”

“A magical thunderstorm? I LOVE IT!” Lyra smiled at her, “Grey, cover us!”

“Got it!” The silver dragon dove downwards while Lyra and Nightjar shot straight up. At this height they could see the edges of the nanomachine ocean, sticking to white background like a giant black leech. Nightjar raised her front claws. Black clouds were forming around the Gray Tempest, surrounding the entirety of it in an enormous cloud-made prison. Lyra channeled magic into her horn and shot a magical beam at the cloud’s center. A bolt of golden lightning traversed through the clouds, dying them ember. More bolts of lightnings crackled as the clouds became infused with Lyra’s magic, blasting away the outmost layer of nanomachines. Mumbling her chants, Nightjar pressed her front claws together. The clouds shrank inwards, and the nanomachines sizzled as they were forced to the center. Very soon the clouds were almost closed, leaving only a thin cylinder where all the nanomachines were trapped. Some of them were trying to escape from the top, but Lyra placed a magical field and sealed off the clouds like a lid, trapping them inside.

“I can’t push in any further! They are retaliating!” Nightjar cried, “Grey, you’ll have to land the final blow!”

“Gladly!” The dragon roared as it dissipated into an enormous cloud of Grey Wind’s subunits. The pegasus dashed out of the mist, throwing all of the Tempest’s attacks behind her as she flew to the clouds’ top and dashed down like a falling star. Her subunits gathered around her, teeming with energy, enveloping her in a sharp emerald spear. The spear struck precisely into the eye of the storm, piercing through the Tempest all the way to the bottom. A shockwave shook the entire dreamscape as the storm clouds were consumed by a blinding green light.

“Grey!” Nightjar gasped.

“Don’t worry, I think she knows what she’s doing,” Lyra laughed. She brushed Nightjar’s wings with her own, and they flew down together and landed before the light.

When the light cleared itself, the Gray Tempest was gone. Grey Wind was standing in front of them, all healthy and safe, carrying the widest beam Lyra has ever seen on everypony else.

“I think…we did it, Lyra,” she said, “I can’t feel the Gray Tempest anymore.”

“HOORAY!” Nightjar jumped forward and swooped Grey Wind into her wings, then grabbed Lyra with her tail and thrust her into the embrace, “Lyra, you are so, so AWESOME! Who would’ve thought—”

“Ow, watch it, you are hurting my wings!” Lyra scratched behind Nightjar’s head, “besides, you are the one who’s awesome. The Goddess of Storm! I’ve read about her in griffon legends, but I never realized that she could be so cool!”

“And you, Grey!” Nightjar suddenly landed a kiss on Grey Wind’s cheek, “YOU CAN REALLY TURN INTO A DRAGON!”

“Hey, if you want to see it, I think I can do it outside this place as well,” Grey Wind’s face was red as an apple. Lyra giggled.

“My, what’s happening?” Nightjar asked.

Lyra looked around them. The space around them was collapsing, the whiteness gradually replaced by a hollowed void. A light was shining from above.

“I think that’s me waking up,” Grey Wind smiled shyly, “see you on the other side…my friends.”

“What a pity,” Lyra said, “I think I’m going to miss these wings.”

Then the light encased them all.

The first thing Lyra did after she opened her eyes was to look at Grey Wind’s bed. Grey Wind had already sat up, smiling happily at her.

“Grey!” She cried, “you…you are alright now!”

“Yeah,” Grey Wind nodded, “looks like getting the Gray Tempest out of my head cured my concussion as well.”

“Ow…” Nightjar’s voice came from the other side of the room. She was leaning against an instrument shelf, “my paws hurt…I think I stepped onto a metal cup or something when we were in there…”

“By the moon, you are finally out!” Nebula’s voice came from the room’s corner. She looked a bit wary, but she was still smiling, “you were in there for five hours straight! Warmhoof even fell asleep! What exactly happened in there?”

The three friends looked at each other, then shared a hearted laugh.

“I’m already missing my storm clouds,” Nightjar yawned.

“I have to admit: being a dragon feels good,” Grey Wind was rubbing her chins, “maybe I should do it again sometime…”

“Please do. And don’t forget to shamelessly allow us to ride you,” Lyra joked, smiling.

Grey Wind, Nightjar, and me, she thought pleasantly, I think we just saved the world.

The memories of the past week began flowing back. She remembered the fire she’d put out by the lake, she remembered how she’d defended Grey Wind from the Tempest in the New Moon Forest, how she went through all the trouble to help Grey Wind become a real pony, how she’d resurrected Grey Wind with her mother’s final heritage, and finally, how she had stood fearlessly against the Gray Tempest, then came up with the perfect idea to save all her friends and put an end to this cosmetic horror. If some pony told her that she was going to achieve all these two weeks ago, she’d definitely slap him and tell him to stop dreaming.

Looks even a pony as insignificant as me could accomplish something, she laughed.

She felt a warmth rising from her heart again. But this wasn’t a dream anymore, how could that be?

“Huh?” She heard Grey Wind’s voice.

“Oh my, Lyra!” Nightjar gasped, “you are glowing again!”

Lyra was speechless. She watched, mouth agape, as a golden cloud flew out of her mane and reached backward. She didn’t know what it was, but somehow she could feel it clear as day as if it had become a part of her body. The cloud landed on her back and began to take shape, condensing into…

Lyra blinked, blinked, and blinked.

…A pair of majestic aquamarine wings.

The feelings she’d felt a few minutes ago in the dreamscape was coming back to her. Tentatively, she gave the wings a flap. Her heart felt as if it was racing out of her throat. She pinched her foreleg and looked again. She wasn’t dreaming anymore. The wings were still there.

“These…” Grey Wind was staring at her wings. A screen had floated in front of her eyes, “these were my subunits…you were controlling them…incredible…”

“Lyra, you…you…” Nightjar’s beak trembled, “…you are an ALICORN now!”

“Well, well, well,” Even Nebula went stiff for a few seconds. She quickly recovered and pushed on her shoulder, “whatever had happened in there must be very important. Looks like Equestria’s got itself a fifth princess.”

“That heart I gave you must’ve somehow connected you to the Gray Tempest’s system…” Grey Wind was smiling, “free energy and nanomachines…how could I have never thought about it before?”

“Lyra, how does it feel like?” Nightjar’s eyes were narrowed into two joyful slits, “are you feeling extremely powerful or extremely proud? Say something!”

And so Lyra spoke. The first words she spoke after becoming one of the rarest, bravest, kindest, and most powerful beings in all of Equestria:

“Wow. Just, wow.” She said.

Chapter Final--New Beginnings

It was a perfect day for flying.

When Lyra landed on the top of the hill, Grey Wind was already there. She was sitting in the shadow of a tall oak tree, wearing her black cloak, her wings half-spread, and her mane flowing freely in the wind.

“Enjoying the view?” she asked. She went up and sat down beside her, gazing down towards the endless New Moon Forest. The sky was blue, clear without a single cloud, the afternoon sun shining brightly above their heads. She could see the lake on her right, its mirror-like surface bouncing with shattered sunlight. Her mother’s treehouse was standing beside it like a silent sentinel, bright green leaves sprouting from its dried canopy. On the other side of the forest, she could see the town of Memento, the streets occupied by the many colorful ponies celebrating the Moonlight Festival. Even at this distance, she could still hear the happy chatters and laughter carried in the wind. A flock of white birds came chirping by, flying past them and disappearing within the dark green woods. The animals were returning to the forest. When the environment changes for the better, nature was always the first one to know about it.

“It’s a great day, isn’t it?” Grey Wind smiled at her, “you sure are a quick learner. I see that you are flying much more smoothly now.”

“Oh, stop it,” Lyra waved her hoof, “you should’ve seen this morning! How in the name of Celestia do you handle those rogue currents? Even now my back still hurts!”

They shared a laugh together.

“You will get used to it. All winged spirits would yearn toward the sky,” Grey Wind winked at her, “so…” she poked her wing, “what do you think did it in the end? What crossed the line even the most advanced technology in the Universe could not break?”

“I guess it was the moment when I settled things with myself,” Lyra stroked her own feathers.

“Oh?” Grey Wind tilted her head curiously.

“Let’s say I got to know one thing over this week. Even now my magic might not be as strong as Twilight Sparkle, and my music would never be as beautiful as the Royal Orchestra Canterlot. But it seems…” Lyra smirked, “…even a pony as insignificant as me could still achieve something.”

“You do realize that no pony should ever know about all those, right?” Grey Wind shuffled her wings, “wouldn’t want to scare half the planet to death.”

“They don’t need to know,” Lyra pressed her hoof on Grey Wind’s shoulder, “what matters is that we all managed to survive, and we really did it.”

And we all got something out of it, she smiled, it doesn’t have to be these wings or a wonderful friendship. It could be a worthless souvenir, a smile from my friends, or even the slightest bit of happiness in my heart.

And with any of those showing up, I would know that I never went through all those troubles for nothing.

“A hero does not need recognization, huh?” Grey Wind scratched behind her ear, “so sweet of you, Lyra.”

“Appreciate that,” Lyra playfully punched her side, “so why did you call me here? Just to talk?”

“Actually, there’s something I’d like to show you,” Grey Wind giggled. She turned her body around and lifted her cloak, revealing her hind leg and her flank. Lyra gasped.

Her flank was not blank anymore. Upon her grey fur was a circle of six black spheres, all connected to a central sphere by poles of grey. Lyra recognized this pattern. It was the picture on the lid of her mother’s box.

“Oh my god!” She exclaimed, “Grey, you got your cutie mark! When did this happen?”

“It showed up last night after you both fell asleep,” Grey Wind said, “this is the sign of the Gray Tempest. Looks like the magic of this world decided that I’m a real pony in the end.”

“I seriously think we should host a party for this,” Lyra replied happily.

“Maybe,” Grey Wind was covering her smiling muzzle with a hoof. Then her eyeballs rolled and focused seriously, “and…there was another thing. Remember Whistle Sunlight? Princess Luna’s nanite friend from a thousand years ago?”

“Yeah, what about her?”

“You see—” Grey Wind projected an interface between them, “I went to my creators’ facility this morning. I wanted to make sure that there are no backups of the Gray Tempest’s core codes left in the mainframe. But when I looked into the corresponding files, I found…this.”

Lines of text were popping up on the screen. It was in Xa’natarian language, and there were many meaningless numbers in the words, making it impossible for Lyra to read its contents. Grey Wind only translated the title, and that was well enough for her to figure out what it was:

Code Subject: Whistle Sunlight

“This is…Whistle’s core code?”

“More accurately, her consciousness,” Grey Wind’s eyes were glittering through the half-transparent screen, “the reconstruction code must’ve brought it back. Her codes are pretty much turned over. Whatever she’d experienced in this world must’ve changed her like me. This file…is like a copy of her soul.”

“Then…can you do anything about it?” Lyra asked. If they could retrieve her soul, then—

“Yes, I can restore her” Grey Wind nodded confidently, “some of the codes were corrupted, possibly because of her thousand years of slumber. Fixing those and wakening her will take time…but it won’t be hard.”

“And then we can build her a new body with the subunits of the Gray Tempest!” Lyra wrapped a wing around Grey Wind’s neck, “wow, Grey, this is awesome! You have to tell Princess Luna about this!”

“I am planning to visit Canterlot after you introduce us to Ponyville,” Grey Wind said with a snicker, pointing at Lyra’s wings, “but I think the Princesses will probably find us first.”

“To crown me?” Lyra chuckled, “oh, come on, I don’t even want one myself.”

Grey Wind chuckled as well, then stood up, stretching her wings.

“If you really mean it, I can teach you how to hide those wings later. You need to learn how to control those subunits. I’m going to return to the festival. You coming with me?”

“I’ll catch up,” Lyra gestured towards the forest, “I want to watch this just for a while longer.”

As Grey Wind flew down, Lyra looked back onto the forest, then up at the sky. The sun had climbed over its highest point and was now starting to lower. In a few hours, it would sink beneath the horizon, and darkness will encase the town and forest. Ponies were never worried about the dark, for they know that Princess Luna will be watching them with her moon, and Princess Celestia will always bring the sun back after a peaceful night. Lyra could see the millions of stars shining in the background of the Universe again, but this time she was not afraid at all. She could feel the uncountable number of lifeforms thriving out there, but instead of feeling the burden of their weight, this time she could hear their hearts beating together, singing the chorus of hope and life.

Because they’ll see tomorrow’s sun, even without a Princess to lift it up.

And I’ll see it as well.

Lyra laughed. Until now she’d never realized how beautiful the sky was.

“I think I should write a song about this…” she whispered to herself.

THE END

Chapter 2

The paths in the mountains were always much longer than they looked like. The sun had sunk beneath the hills when Lyra reached Momento’s gate. On the road’s two sides stood two worn wooden pillars, forming a dome above her. There was a small signpost hanging from it:

Welcome to Memento, the heritage of the ancient moon

When she passed the gate, Lyra was suddenly struck by a bolt of familiarity. She gazed down upon the street in front of her. Two lanes of two-storied wooden households lined the street’s two sides, all of them suspended from the ground by wooden logs—a traditional design employed by ponies living in the Southern regions of Equestria to avoid moisture. The distant end of the path opened up into a round plaza, in its center stood a tall statue. Lyra had no memories of these sceneries, yet somehow she was very certain that she had been here before. There was a nostalgic sense to the smell of the air here that just made the town feel like home.

She went up to the plaza, hoping to find a road sign that could point the way for her. The statue turned out to be even larger than it had looked like, a life-size depiction of an elegant alicorn. Lyra saw the crescent moon cutie mark on the statue’s flank and realized that the statue’s subject was none other than Princess Luna. It was a rare sight out of Canterlot, as the Princess of the Moon had been forgotten by most ponies of Equestria in her thousand years of absence. Memento must be one of those few towns Luna had liberated during the royal sisters’ long journey of reclaiming Equestria from the beasts of Tartarus.

No wonder I’d always favored Princess Luna more than her sister, Lyra smiled secretly, I was born in a town bestowed by her grace…

Then she saw a road post below the statue made up of large arrows pointing towards the many streets leading away from the plaza. She reached into her saddlebags and pulled out a brown envelope, double-checking the address written in its center:

No. 3 Moonlit Avenue, Memento, South Equestria

The arrow with the words “Moonlit Avenue” led her to a narrow alley opposite from the one she had walked out of. She saw No.3 as soon as she was at the alley’s entrance: a canopy of green leaves and white flowers sprouted out between the second and the fourth plain wooden houses in front of her. At first, she thought that her destination was a treehouse, but soon discovered in awe that it was actually a similar wooden household with a huge tree growing through it. The planks making up the house were of a purplish-black, appearing to be much older than the brown barks covering the other households. A branch of the tree went directly through the top of the door frame, and on its tip hung a large signboard:

The Cosmetic Balcony

Library & Bookstore

Open from sunrise to sunset (including weekends！)

Lyra’s heart started pumping. She was so close now--the sender of the letter, the one who had claimed to have found a legacy of her mother, her past, everything.

Maybe…maybe I should come tomorrow…find a place to settle for the night first…she thought nervously, it’s—it’s already past sunset…whoever owns this place must be asleep...

Yet she still raised a hoof and quickly knocked on the door, hot blood pumping into her skull. She had waited sixteen years for this, for Celestia’s sake! Anticipation was already scorching over her rationality. She couldn’t possibly deter this any longer.

A round of harsh hoofsteps came from inside the house. A small piece of wood slid away from the door, revealing a small peek hole, and Lyra found herself faced by a pair of sleepy bright, violet eyes.

“Sorry, we are closed,” the voice sounded young, about the same as her age, “if you’d like to return a book, you can come tomorrow. There will be no additional payments within twenty-four hours.”

Lyra heard a yawn, and the wood hatch was switched back, shutting the peek hole with a resounding “click”.

“Wait!” She called out, front hoof tapping the dirt, “I—I’m not here to return a book! I’m Lyra Heartstrings! I received your letter!”

The hatch was immediately reopened. The eyes leaned close to the peeking hole, scanned her from head to tail, then curled up into two joyful crescents:

“Oh! Thank goodness! Just a second!”

There was the sound of turning locks, and the door sprung open. Lyra flinched in surprise.

The creature standing in front of her was one she’d only heard in myths and legends. Her front body resembled that of an eagle, with a golden beak and a pair of golden talons, covered in feathers that are a mixture of white and grey, while her lower body reminded Lyra of a lion she’d once seen at a circus in Canterlot.

“Never expected to see a griffon in this part of Equestria, huh?” the griffon raised a claw to her beak and giggled, “don’t worry, I get that a lot. Quick, come in!”

Lyra’s nostril was met by the pleasant scent of ink and paper as soon as she was led into the house—tall bookcases took up almost every space her eyes could catch, and the room was like a circular maze of books and scrolls surrounding the trunk of the tree in the middle. Branches, vines, and roots covered the house’s walls, converging into a natural dark green ceiling above them. The room was dimly lit by a few green lamps hanging from the ceiling, and there was a small piece of glowing crystal installed in the center of every bookcase, illuminating the books’ titles. It was like a more classical and mysterious version of the Golden Oak Library back in Ponyville. The griffon whirled through the bookcases and stopped in front of a small table at the foot of the tree, adeptly pulling out a teapot and two wooden cups.

“My name’s Nightjar--So Mrs. Heartstrings really had a daughter!” she said enthusiastically, “I mean—I’ve known her since I was a hatchling, but I never knew!”

“It’s kind of a surprise for me as well, to be honest,” Lyra replied as joyfully as she could manage, “I’ve always thought I was born of a terrible magical accident or something…”

“The ponies of the orphanage told me everything,” Nightjar nodded sympathetically, “Sorry about that. It must’ve been quite hard.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lyra smirked. Even she couldn’t tell if it was truthful, “I did have quite a few friends.”

“I can see that,” Nightjar laughed happily, looking into her eyes, “don’t worry. I’m sure Mrs. Heartstrings isn’t the kind of pony that would just randomly abandon her fillies,” she laid a front claw onto Lyra’s shoulder, “and I’m willing to help you figure out whatever has happened! Wait here, I’ll go fetch what I found.”

Whatever has happened… Lyra watched Nightjar swooping away, disappearing above a staircase in the room’s corner. She wanted so badly to believe what she had said, but…

Mother…what could have made you throw me away? Her heart was knitted again.

Your very own and only daughter?

Nightjar soon returned. She gently put what she had brought—a small black box and a tattered, yellow envelope—onto the table.

“Here—I found them when I was cleaning the attics. Mom must’ve forgotten them there when she left the town. I wanted to fly to Canterlot and hand them to you myself, but—” she glanced back at her body, smiling in embarrassment, “—as you can see, my wings aren’t in their… most convenient state.”

It was only by this time when Lyra discovered that Nightjar had only one wing. The left side of her body was covered by a huge wing made up of long, straight, pure black feathers, while there was only a single small grey stub left on the right side, exposing her fluffy, white chest feathers. She winced when she found that the edge of that stub was round and in the shape of a joint, meaning that whatever had taken Nightjar’s right wing had brutally torn it off her body.

“Thanks for that,” she said calmly, suppressing her shock and her urge to inquire, “I mean, for not coming to get me, because I no longer live in Canterlot,” she took the envelope with her magic. The envelope, along with anything written on it, had lost its color, but the bold, artistic inscription on its front was still distinguishable: To Mrs. Duskhawk and Miss Nightjar, “I live in Ponyville now.”

“Ponyville?” Nightjar’s eyes lit up, her wing half-opened, “wow! You mean with Twilight Sparkle and the other elements of harmony? That’s so cool!”

“What if I tell you Twilight Sparkle was once my classmate?” Lyra smirked while delicately maneuvering her magic, slowly opening the envelope, “we went to the same school in Canterlot. We were quite close.”

“Was she like, awesome back then, or it was only after she became the element of magic?” Nightjar said, interested.

“She was like a magic-casting machine—teleporting everywhere at the age of twelve…I doubt even Starswirl couldn’t achieve that,” Lyra took out the letter paper and floated it in front of her eyes.

“What does it say?” Nightjar asked.

“Please return this box and its inclusions to my daughter, Lyra Heartstrings…” Lyra read. She shifted her gaze towards the box on the table, “huh…”

“Ohhh, Mrs. Heartstring must’ve left you something!” Nightjar fluttered her wing, “I guess it’s a music box!”

She pulled the box in front of her and, with all her courage left, slowly removed its lid. Her heart skipped a beat as soon as she got a look at what’s inside—a bronze key in the shape of a tree, lying on a layer of regal red wool.

Reflectively her front hooves reached into her saddlebag for the stone box and then immediately realized that it was impossible. The key was almost as large as her hooves. It was meant for a much bigger lock than the one on her box. She carefully grasped the key with her magic, raising it between her and Nightjar.

“This…” she muttered.

“Hey, I know what this is!” Nightjar blurted, “it’s the key to your mom’s treehouse!”

“Mom owns a treehouse here?” Lyra asked.

“Yeah! I used to play there a lot when I was younger!” Nightjar nodded, “you have to head out of the East exit and follow the path all the way through the New Moon Forest. Mrs. Hearstring’s treehouse is at the end of the road, beside the lake!”

“Then whatever she had left me must be there,” Lyra took the key and stuffed it into her saddlebags, then stood up and offered Nightjar a smile, “thank you, like, a lot. I own you a life.”

“Are you sure you want to go now?” Nightjar raised an eyebrow, “it’s—it’s already dark. The forest is not that safe now, there is—”

“Ever heard of the Everfree Forest?” Lyra joked, “Ever got chased by a pack of Timberwolves? Don’t worry, I know much worse.”

“I live here by myself, so I have plenty of empty rooms upstairs,” Nightjar insisted, “you could—”

Lyra had retreated out of the door, beaming politely.

“No, thanks, I don’t think I can wait any longer,” she said, laying a front hoof onto the doorknob, “good night.”

She almost fled from the Cosmetic Balcony, not having the guts to look back. The welcoming griffon had done everything she could do to help, and she really had no right to ask Nightjar for anything else.

She returned to the plaza, turned to the East, and soon walked out of the town’s east gate. The New Moon Forest was closer than she’d anticipated—lines and lines of black birch trees were practically connected with the out-most households of the town, encasing its eastern parts like a giant green claw. The sky had turned completely dark when she walked into the forest. She knew all forests in Equestria were unsafe at night and had considered finding a tavern somewhere, but soon her worries were proved to be meaningless. Not only was there a wide, gravel stone-lined road laid in front of her, but also hundreds of green road lamps neatly lining its sides. The town ponies must’ve used this path a lot, and certainly no wild beasts would dare to approach it.

The forest bore the smell of pleasant dews, the canopy humming carelessly amidst the evening breeze. Phosphorous crickets sang in the patches of grass, the glowing ends of their tails blooming like a miniature galaxy of green stars. All of those Lyra had not the heart to enjoy. Her quick steps soon became a trot, then broke into an intense gallop, her lime mane flying freely into the night sky. Green lights flashed behind her as she burst out of the forest’s other side, back into the moonlight.

The land in front of her was filled with tall grass, and among them stood a huge lake. The water was still, silver without a single ripple. The gravel path curled around the lake’s shore and across it, and at its end…

Lyra inhaled deeply.

A treehouse, branches green and healthy, bark brown as fertile dirt.

She was upon the household’s doorstep in a matter of seconds. She was met a door made of two screens of redwood, and there was a single large keyhole in the middle of the two doorknobs.

Lyra felt as if her heart was rushing out of her throat and all the way to Ponyville. With shaky hoofs, she took out the key and placed it upon the keyhole. Her mind clicked along with the lock as it sank perfectly in. She pushed, and the door opened with a loud creak.

A wave of dust made her cover her eyes. The inside of the treehouse was dark, forcing her to light up her horns. The first floor of the treehouse was not large, about the same size as the living of her house in Ponyville. A single round table surrounded by two chairs was in the room’s center, a thick layer of dust covering whatever was on it. On one side of the room was the outline of an old kitchen counter and on the other a worn stone workbench. A single tea stand with many drawers leaned against the corner.

That was everything her horn could illuminate, more than enough to set her heart on fire.

This is it, she thought, where mother lived, where I was born.

My home…

She started with the drawers, pulling every one of them out and checking their insides. Her mother had led her to her house, and surely she would have left her some clues, maybe about that strange stone box she’d left, or maybe even where to find her. Yet to no avail. All the drawers were empty. Taking labored breaths, she turned to the staircase in the farthest corner, rushing up to the second floor.

Bumping open the door at the end of the staircase, Lyra found herself in a deserted bedroom. A bed stood beneath a round glass window, and beside it was a small nightstand. She pounced over like a hungered timberwolf, prying it open and examining its insides. Still nothing. There were no clues in the house. Not even anything that could offer the tiniest bit of guidance.

She collapsed onto the bed, setting off a wave of dust. This can’t be right. Her mother couldn’t have wanted her to come here for nothing. There must be something else, something she had missed—

The light on her horn dwindled. For a few minutes, she sat on the bed, breathing hard. The adrenaline rush into her brain calmed itself, and her eyes drifted sideways. She suddenly discovered that the whole bed appeared to be carved out of a single piece of branch. Upon a closer look, the entire room was made at the slightest disturbance of the trunk of the tree containing it. The wall was not painted, exposing the healthy, light brown wood. There were even new branches growing out, decorating them with green leaves and blue flowers. The branch making up the bed curved upwards in its end, and at its tip directly above her head hang a miniature lamp. Despite having been abandoned for more than ten years, the room had not lost its liveliness. It was like the whole room was one gentle living creature.

Somehow a smile made its way to her cheeks. Healthy, not a single millimeter away from nature, it was the bedroom that came straight out of her dreams. She had always been seeking this kind of bedroom design earlier in ponyville, but no matter how many plants and flowers she brought into her bedroom, it just wouldn’t feel right in the busy town of Ponyville. And now here it is, placed in the town Memento, in the very household she belonged to.

Maybe…she thought, feeling a ripple of peace scattering throughout her chest, maybe it was this house that mom wanted to me inherit. This place that she knew I would favor the most. Otherwise she wouldn’t have left Nightjar the key.

Tiredness struck her. The nervousness and the fatigue of the whole-day journey proved to be too much. She spent the next hour cleaning the bedroom, sweeping away the dust, and doing her best to restore the room to its prime. The bedsheet and the blanket were aquamarine, the same color as her coat, and she was content to find that they were still soft and cozy. As she finished, she hopped onto the bed and buried herself into the blankets. She could easily see through the window, watching the serene lake beneath the full moon, the grass dancing welcomingly towards her. She felt…warm, secure.

She was home, at long last.

She would have to clean the other parts of the treehouse and check with Nightjar whether mom had left behind anything else, but those could wait. She was too sleepy now. Letting out a satisfied sigh, Lyra closed her eyes. She was very sure that she would have a wonderful dream tonight.

All until she was forcefully awoken by a huge explosion the next morning.

Chapter 10

Clunk!

The pain of a slid-open throat never came. All Lyra saw was a flash of grey, and then her world faded into blackness. There was a loud roar and a round of fluttering of wings, and then everything went still. Hoofsteps came to her side, and something warm and fluffy was pressed onto her forehead.

“Come on, open your eyes!” she didn’t recognize this voice at first, “you are not hurt. You can do it!”

And so she tried, focusing all her strength on her eyelids. They slowly opened.

“Grey…?”

“On your six, watch it!” Somepony shouted behind her. Grey Wind’s head swung to the side. Lyra barely saw the movements of her wings as she pounced over her body.

“Gah!!!”

The sound of claws digging into soft flesh. Grey Wind grunted, and Lyra heard a scream. A beam of violet magic shot past her and exploded on the pavement. A dark figure was thrown off into the air, dissipating into a black cloud and elapsing from her sight. Somepony grabbed her front hoof and supported her up, and then she saw Grey Wind in front of her. The wound on her front head was cracked open, and the fur on her chest was soaked with blood.

“That thing escaped,” she said, “you are safe now.”

“Grey…You are hurt…”

“It’s only peripheral,” Grey Wind brushed a hoof against her mane, “take care of yourself first.”

“Oh, in the name of Luna…”

Lyra tilted her head around and saw Warmhoof, Cirrus, and Nebula on a balcony behind her. Warmhoof was still blankly staring at the street, Cirrus appeared as if he’d just been smacked on the head by the claws of a dragon, while Nebula’s expression was cold as hail. A small violet glow was still visible on her horn. Her mane was flowing freely, shining with glitters of magic.

“After all those years…” she mumbled, then shook her head, “Cirrus, Warmhoof! Take her to the clinic, now!”

“Lyra!”

It was at this moment when Nightjar rushed to her side. Nebula walked over and softly patted Grey Wind’s tensed-up shoulder.

“I got her,” she said, “go with Warmhoof and Cirrus. Let them check you up.”

Grey Wind panted. She glanced at Lyra and Nightjar, then softly nodded. Cirrus and Warmhoof each took one of her wings, and they left away from the street and towards the plaza.

“Return to the library first,” Nebula said to Lyra. Her voice was horribly calm, “I know a spell that can keep you away from that bastard.”

“That…that was a nightmare beast, wasn’t it? I knew I wasn’t seeing things!” Nightjar was starting to sound terrified, “and—and—I heard it speak…” her eyes widened with fear, “it was coming for YOU?!”

Lyra coughed. Every corner of her body hurt.

“Once a nightmare beast chooses its prey, it won’t stop until it kills her,” Nebula said. She raised Lyra’s chin, her magenta eyes glaring straight into her soul, “let’s be quick. You are not safe out here anymore, Lyra.”

That night, Grey Wind had a dream.

This was unusual. According to her database, a dream is a result of unconscious pondering when an organic creature is asleep. “Pondering” was never a part of her program, and neither should dreaming be. But right now…

Grey Wind looked around her. She was sitting atop a small hill covered by grass. In front of her was a valley surrounded by tall, green mountains. A small stream was running through its middle, glittering against the bright full moon hanging in the cloudless sky, surrounded by a river of stars. On one side of the stream sat two familiar creatures—Nightjar and Lyra. Nightjar was lying on the ground, reading a thick book. Lyra was holding her lyre between her lap, plucking its strings with her magic. The music gently flew into her ears, caressing them between their whispers. There were no similar terrains around Memento at least within a ten-mile radius, and the light of the moon was clearly violating the laws of physics by not being able to veil the stars. All the calculations were returning the same results—this place, everything around her, everything she was hearing, touching, feeling…they were all not real.

She didn’t run a code scan & analysis this time. After her experience of the past few days, it was already meaningless.

Grey Wind sighed. She couldn’t explain what was happening to her. Precise calculations, choices aiming for benefit maximization, the placement of self-existence above anything else…over the past few days, all the most cherished and prided traits her creators had placed into her had all magically vanished, replaced by a mindful of wild, logicless…

emotions…She found that word in her database. Her brows furrowed. It was so strange. She was only supposed to exercise what had been written in her codes, but she had no codes for these emotions. All of them came out of nowhere, eating away her intricate algorithms like grasshoppers upon a field of weed. She could not shut them down and could only watch as they got worse.

And today, she had just broken the most fundamental law of her entire existence.

“Whistle…?” a near-inaudible gasp came from behind her. Grey turned backward, her wings spreading in alarm.

A dark blue alicorn was floating in the sky above her. Her blue mane was long and curly, littered with many tiny light spots that resembled a night sky full of stars. Grey Wind saw the crescent moon cutie mark on her flank and immediately recognized this pony from the limited knowledge her database bore about this world.

“Princess…Luna?” she asked tentatively.

Upon hearing this, the alicorn’s hooves visibly twitched. Her sight fell onto Grey Wind’s flank, and she silently shook her head before landing and sitting down beside her.

“It is I,” she said, putting up a smile, “greetings, Grey Wind.”

Grey Wind didn’t know how to respond. She was facing a princess, one of the rulers of this world. Should she bow? Should she politely greet back? Her database contained none of the answers.

“So, Grey Wind, tell us,” Princess Luna seemed to have noticed her frustrations. She laid a hoof onto her shoulder, “how is this? Are you enjoying your dream?”

“I…” There was something soothing about Luna’s voice, that Grey Wind felt her anxiety melting away within it. After a second of inner struggle, Grey Wind decided it would be best to tell the truth, “I…don’t know…I was not…” her lips trembled upon saying that word, “…supposed…to enjoy anything. It is not a part of the program.”

“Yet you have fabricated such a wonderful dream, all by yourself,” Luna raised an eyebrow, “you are confused. Tell us why.”

“I…you won’t understand, princess,” Grey Wind sighed heavily, “what I did today…it was…” she pressed a hoof onto her head, “I don’t know how to say it, it was just…irrational."

“Irrational that you bravely protected a pony whose life had been threatened?”

“It could’ve killed me!” Grey Wind answered, “for any life form, this should be a basic! Survival is always the first priority! But when I broke that law, it felt so…” her wings fluttered anxiously. She couldn’t stop herself from describing those emotions, “natural! Like, it even made me proud and happy! I considered it as absurd when Lyra did it for me, but now…” her breath was becoming labored, “and everything I’ve been feeling recently, I wasn’t SUPPOSED TO FEEL THEM…they…they ruined all my codes…ruined…me…”

Princess Luna only lay onto all fours, listening quietly during her entire outburst. As she finally went silent, the princess of the night softly wrapped a wing around her body.

“Well…I know I’m probably tampering with things that I will never possibly comprehend,” she said warmly, “but I believe I can help you with this, Grey Wind.”

“HOW?” Grey Wind cried, “I don’t even know where these errors came from! My codes are all intact—”

“Emotions are NOT errors!” Luna’s volume raised. She threw a hoof into the air, “look all around you, Grey Wind. All that you are feeling recently—” she gestured towards Lyra. Grey Wind could still hear the music coming from all around her, “—haven’t they enabled you to enjoy the most beautiful music? The most glorious scenery? The purest of kindness?”

“But it had also led to insensibility!” Grey Wind retorted, “it almost got Lyra and I killed!” she stared into Luna’s eyes, “emotion is just an evolutionary failure for you organic creatures…”

“Then be it that way,” Luna simply answered, “if you are not ready for it, nopony can force you. There are other matters we have to discuss, Grey Wind,” she narrowed her eyes, “about these…xeomorphs I’ve been hearing about. I’m sure you could share some knowledge about their origins?”

“I suspect you would even understand,” Grey Wind said coldly.

“Will they be a threat?” there was no ripple in Luna’s voice.

“I have only seen small portions of them here,” Grey Wind answered, while her wings involuntarily shuddered, “in their prime, they could easily consume an entire planet.”

“Is there a way to stop them?” Luna was taking a much more serious tone, “please. This is crucial for all my subjects’ survival.”

“There was one in the past,” Grey Wind plainly answered, “but not anymore.”

Images were flowing out of her database, presented right in front of her eyes. Burning cities, screams of fear and despair, millions of arms reaching to the sky, only to be covered by a meters-thick cloud of death…the images slowly superposed on the bodies of Lyra and Nightjar, and she found herself gritting her teeth.

“Please do not disturb my creators’ business,” she hissed, “I will find them, every last one that had escaped the jumpgates, and I will destroy them, every last one of them…”

“Is there really no solution left behind?” Luna stood up and walked over, meeting her eyes with her own ethereal orbs, “but, to my knowledge…”

What she said next made Grey Wind gasp.

“You have always been in possession of the termination code, haven’t you?”

“How did you—” Grey Wind’s eyes widened. This is impossible. Even her creators don’t know—

“Well, I’ll just say,” Luna chuckled, “I was met with a similar situation…approximately ten centuries ago.”

“I…” Grey Wind was speechless. Luna leaned close, whispering into her ear.

“You could have ended this entire madness…just by clicking a single button. If you really wish for the xeomorphs’ destruction…then why didn’t you use it?”

“I’ll…I’ll use it as a last resort…” Grey Wind lowered her head, “if things really come down to that, then I will…I will…”

“The fact that you are not using it now proves that you’ll never use it, otherwise…” Luna looked up into the sky, “…you would not be crying.”

Crying? Grey Wind gasped. She suddenly realized that the grass below her was already soaked wet. She reached a hoof up to her eyes and felt the trail of hot tears trickling down it.

Luna had walked to the edge of the hilltop, gazing over the valley and the stream.

“You don’t want to lose them, am I correct?” her voice was not high, but to Grey Wind, it was a strike of thunder.

“The Gray Tempest is a threat to the entire galaxy!” Grey Wind ordered to stop crying this instant, but the tears were only dropping down quicker. She was starting to stammer and choke, “it’s for the best! For—for Lyra—for Nightjar—for every living organic creature in the galaxy—I must—I must…Oh—” she finally allowed herself to collapse onto the ground, covering her head with her front hooves, “I—I don’t know what is wrong with me…”

A powerful hoof lifted her chin up. Eyes blurred, Grey Wind saw Princess Luna smiling at her.

“Grey Wind, that is because you are experiencing Friendship! You want to spend more time around some pony, and are willing to throw out a helping hoof whenever they are in trouble, even when it may harm yourself…This—” she glanced at Lyra and Nightjar, “this, is what they have been trying to prove to you for all those past days, that you, my dear, can feel its magic as well,” she laughed, “even in Equestria, such pure friendship, friendship that does not ask for any form of return…is also the rarest gem. You are very lucky, Grey Wind.”

“But…” Grey Wind sniffed, “the power of the Gray Tempest, nanomachines…” she glanced uneasily at her wings, “…they are evil. Their existence was my creator’s biggest mistake…” she lowered her head again, “my existence…is a mistake…”

“Stop pulling out excuses for yourself,” Luna sharply said, “you and I both know that there is no good or evil for power. I could bring ponies sweet dreams, but I could also create nightmares. It is your behaviors and decisions that define the justice of your strength,” she brushed her wings with her own, “you could either stay here, watching your friends from afar while blaming yourself, or you could also use the same time to think about how you could help your friends with your power. The decision is yours.”

Grey Wind wiped her eyes. She could not resist it anymore.

“I’ll…try…”

“Very well,” said Princess Luna, bearing a confident beam, “in that case, I think you should wake up. Your friends are waiting for you.”

The dreamscape around them was starting to shatter. Grass, mountains and rivers were dissolving until there was nothing left but whiteness. A beam of light was pouring down from above them, getting stronger and stronger. For some reason unknown. Grey Wind was feeling a warmth rising from her heart, as if something within it had just been melted.

“Princess Luna,” Grey Wind suddenly remembered something. “You said that you had a similar experience in the past…what happened?”

“Let the past be left in the past,” Luna shook her hooves, then smiled, “good luck, Grey Wind. I am sincerely looking forward to meeting you in reality.”

Grey Wind wanted to ask further, but the Princess was already engulfed by the light.

“Ah!” Grey Wind gasped as her eyes snapped open. She was staring at the brown-tiled ceiling of Doctor Warmhoof’s clinic. She sat up on the bed, her wings fluttering open. Her hoof touched a wet stain on the blanket—it was her tear.

Was I…really crying? She thought cluelessly. Crying should be one of the strongest expressions of an organic creature’s emotion. This, along with all those anger, frustration, sadness, and confusion she’d just felt in that dream, Lyra’s wonderful music, Luna’s warm wings…they were all way above the range of system errors. All of them…were true. She still couldn’t find an explanation. These emotions never existed in her program, but…

Then that means…the happiness I felt when I am with Lyra and Nightjar…must be true as well, right?

…maybe they are so bad after all.

How I can use my power to benefit my friends…

Princess Luna’s final words were still coursing through her mind. She looked out of the window. It was still very dark, but she could see beams of sunlight shooting out of the horizon. She suddenly realized that there was actually a lot she could do. Flexibility had always been the most important advantage of nanomachines. As long as she wanted to do it, there could be a million possibilities.

If…I am really going to try this…then…she thought, watching the tree growing out of the Cosmetic Balcony across from the street, why don’t I start now?

She jumped off the bed and tried her wings. After making sure they were still working, she quickly creaked open the window and jumped outside, flying off into the night.

Lyra felt as if every single bone in her body was being crushed into crisps. The black tendrils were closing around all her limbs, the black spear reforming above her head.

Tomorrow is the last day…come to the forest this midnight…or be fried into oblivion…

The spear thrust down, penetrating her skull. Lyra screamed as she jerked up on the bed. As soon as she calmed her breath, she found Grey Wind standing in front of her bed, eyes full of concern.

“Had another bad dream?” she said, spitting out the words like a shower, “don’t worry, I just scanned you. I know what is wrong.”

“S—scan?” Lyra blinked.

“I—I owe you an explanation,” Grey Wind winced and shook her head, “but first we’ll have to fix you,” she looked straight into Lyra’s eyes, appearing dead serious, “I can get rid of your nightmares, Lyra, but I need you to trust me.”

“What are you talking about, Grey…?” Lyra groaned, “of course I trust you…”

“Good,” Grey Wind nodded. Lyra forced out a smile.

And then Grey Wind whirled around and struck her wing on Lyra’s forehead. She fell unconscious right away.