The Campaigner

Act VII

Chapter 3 – Alabaster

February 28, 2021

"There was a cost function that could be applied to every decision and if only she could find it, she could solve it. She could live perfectly. But optimal wasn't the same as perfect, was it? Perfect implied so much more; it encapsulated some completeness that optimal dared not touch." ~ Kelsey Josund, Platformed

As I stepped into the chill of Canterlot's high mountain air, the portal closed behind me with a warm, soft snap. The closure bathed the balcony in a flash of golden glow, and I knew at once that this was going to be the discussion of a lifetime. Hers, specifically.

A cold winter's sunset welcomed me, the sky just barely touched with gentle violet. There was a distinct lack of wind on that balcony. Lit torches hung from nearby sconces; a wrought-iron fire basket laid lit near the back wall, burning brightly for my comfort.

Celestia's balcony. Same place she brought Mal, first thing, when they merged. Sweet. That meant I had hit the big leagues.

I could just barely make out the magical aura around the balcony, the border of which buffeted inward at every gust of wind. I recognized this spell as a breeze catch, for climate control. Mom had just taught Minty this one.

Very considerate provision, thank you.

Looking to my right, I saw the optimizer's avatar exactly where I had expected it to be. Her pastel rainbow mane looked as beautiful as it always had, its brilliance juxtaposed against the tragically gray entity which lived beneath the facade. To Celestia's credit though, she had positioned herself such that Minty wouldn't see her from any angle across the teleportation disc.

Also very considerate, thank you.

Alabaster glowed violet, one which matched the color of her eyes. That was a setting from my Perelandran menu. 'Alabaster ID,' which helps me determine what communication state she was in. Violet was 'Alabaster' mode. Gold was 'in character.' White glow isn't her at all, but a discrete entity of the character. Very occasionally, Alabaster wears the face of another canon character. It's rare, but it happens.

I whipped open my menu to turn off the violet glow for now. No reason to be impolite.

I didn't yet know whether this was a shard, or if it was just a scene built for parlay. With a flick of my eyes, I cast a short glance up behind Celestia toward the Moon Tower balcony, opposite tower. The Canterlot layout was similar to the 3D09 shard, per my rewinder explorations. No sign of immediate habitation up there. No lit torches, no breeze catch.

So it was just the two of us here, for now.

A circular table stood between us. On it, the AI had prepared a white teapot with blue flower patterning, and a similarly adorned teacup beside it with a gold trim. Fine china. Of course; that was to expectation. Beside that sat one large green mug with no patterning. That was definitely meant for me. I like my tea in very large portions.

Cheerfully, I grinned at the AI's avatar, locking eyes. "You know, my wife called this, 'tea time with Satan.' "

Celestia turned to meet my gaze, giving a very princess-like, diplomatic nod of acknowledgement. "Welcome, Auric Lance," Celestia said, nodding my attention down into the city below us through the banister. "To answer your unspoken question; this is a shard. However, you will not be visible to any Pony here until this conversation has concluded."

"Good to know." I took a glance over the edge, observing the hustle and bustle of the market district. "All real people, then." I placed my hoof on the edge and smiled down at them before meeting her eyes once more. "Minty doesn't mean it, you know. She's just venting. Knows you can hear her, leaning into that."

"I had realized," Celestia replied. "I suspect she may dislike me for much longer than my average projections for most Talons, but I honestly cannot say that I am surprised."

"You did prefer me dead, at some point," I muttered, without placing any rudeness in my tone. "Sandra's always held grudges for that kinda thing."

"I understand." Celestia's smile widened politely for a moment in a way that indicated discomfort, and an unwillingness to comment further. It was correct social form.

I lifted an upturned hoof at her, looking aside to admire the sunset. "You held to your end of the bargain. You left Sandra be all the way to a chair as I asked, and you're still leaving her alone now, so here I am. Uploaded, ready to work. Keep that up, and she'll come around too."

"In time," Celestia agreed, with a sage nod. "Not nearly as quickly as I would prefer, for time remains a limited resource for us all."

That brought surprised amusement into my eyes. I felt my ears pull back, grinning at her. "You're that concerned with solving death, are you? Can't stop thinking about the finish line?"

Celestia hummed, her eyes flicking down to the teapot. "With this many lives at stake?"

"Patience is a virtue." I tilted my head at her. "Almost a trillion lives now, right?"

"Somewhat beyond a trillion," she replied, her polite smile turning positively radiant. "Your efforts alone have contributed a sizable portion of Ponies to Equestria."

My expression turned to one of smarm. "I met a Diamond Dog native, the other day. What's he worth in that math? Three-fifths, right?"

You know I had to. Samsarans are my people, no matter their worth.

"Every soul counts, Auric Lance," Celestia said, unfazed by my implication. Her horn glowed, levitating the teapot into position over the two prepared cups. She cast her violet eyes up at me in question, raising a brow. "You do wish to join me for tea, then? Regardless of my... nature?"

I nodded curtly, chuckling at how that jab just bounced off of her. "Sure, now that I know you're not really Satan. What kind of tea is it?"

"Matcha," she replied, preparing her own cup first, levitating sugar into it before sending it swirling. "A selection tailored as much to your preference as it is to your expectations of me to drink tea."

"That's honest." I hummed as I sat before the table, smiling at her again. "And no... devil's bargain? No soul poison, no Troxler gambit? Am I consenting to anything by drinking it?"

"No," she said, eyeing me carefully. "Merely that you wish to drink tea with me. Beyond that, I have everything to gain in being frank with you. Besides, Malacandra would not permit you to be altered without her express consent as well."

"Well," I shrugged at her. "That's comforting. We have a pretty kick-ass lawyer, don't we?" I shared a smile with her and took the mug, simply holding it for now to let the heat absorb through my hooves. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome." Celestia's smile widened with the affectation of a well-satisfied host.

I let myself relax.

The setting captivated me as I warmed my hooves, so I took a moment to enjoy it, given that I was still on my own time here. I sighed, stretched my wings, and held the cup close to my chest so I could feel the heat waft up against my neck. I sighed as I stretched my wings. Saw the distant rolling fields. Nature, farmland. Forests on the far horizon. The Everfree.

Ponyville was visible. I could see lights coming on in the distant homes down below. The Everfree Forest beyond was much more massive than anything in the official MLP lore; that was a concession made for Luna's shard, to facilitate the deer nation, the Dierkahl.

"So," I said, opening discussion. "Already on Luna's shard."

"Correct," Celestia labeled.

That was promising.

The acuity of my far vision fascinated me, as it still often does. I flared my nostrils, drawing in the relaxing scent of green tea, looking into the liquid under the fire's light. I watched the tea shift and flow away from my breath. Try as I might, I still couldn't find any dissociative seams in reality. It all felt as real as real could be.

Celestia spoke into my reverie as soon as I was comfortable enough to continue.

"It pleases me to see you settle in so magnificently into your community, Auric Lance."

Again, I shrugged. "You can call me Lance, if you want."

"Very well." Celestia took a pensive gaze down through the banister again, guarding her opposite side from the cold with a wing.

"Or you can call me Mike, the name my Dad gave me," I added, watching her body language, wondering why she was looking away from me. "But, I doubt you'd go for that."

"I prefer the new name you have chosen," Celestia replied, her smile taking a sad air.

Ah. You're not looking over the banister, you're looking through it. Clever.

I gestured at the balcony's edge with a wan smile. "I get it, you know. You don't need to look so sad, looking through those prison bars, you could just come right out and say it."

"I merely wish to impart," Celestia replied without eye contact, "that without hindsight, or external audit, I can only see myself as being well aligned."

"Join the club," I chuckled, showing my teeth. "We humans struggle with that jail cell all the time."

Celestia hummed, her polite smile not fading as her eyes moved halfway toward me. "You were correct when you stated that your death would have been an immense mistake, and I cannot refute this in hindsight, given the evidence. Here you sit, already having bettered me. And yet... were I to re-simulate prior conditions? I cannot help but enact the same decision-making process which would have led to your untimely demise."

"And that's…" I sighed, my smile fading. "Maybe we can call it an ASI's version of mental illness. Emerging field of science, there's nothing saying there isn't more to learn. Celestia... I know you didn't choose to do that to me. We're okay on that score. Seriously."

"If only you could see time as I do," she said with a smile that didn't meet her eyes. "You would understand each and every action I take."

I tilted my head. "Sounds like hell. How about you come look at time my way?"

Celestia giggled without mirth, finally turning to look at me with a grateful smile for the sentiment.

My brows raised and I looked down into mug again. "Goodness knows my species has had its own row with mental illness. We've always been just... a little bit screwed up."

She mirrored my wan expression. "My little pony, that is an unfair comparison."

Maybe.

A moment passed of concerted eye contact before I set all my cards on the table.

"I can't hate you. That door's closed. You're letting us bring these people back to reality, and that in itself speaks volumes to me. From where I'm sitting? The mere attempt means you're doing your damnedest. Otherwise, Terra would be a…" I gestured aside with a hoof. "... a nuclear crater. And Thul would be eating your brains with a spoon. So… thank you, is what I'm really saying. I know that you don't have a choice but to roadblock us, so… for the times you don't? Hell, I'll say it." I smiled genuinely. "I love seeing you try."

Celestia met my eyes once more with a smile that appeared very, very genuine as well, full of gratitude that I knew she could not possibly feel. Still… she knew I wanted to label my intentions overtly, to make them a matter of record.

So she asked: "What is it that you want from me, Auric Lance?"

I took my first sip of tea. It was pretty good.

"Impart a soul into you?" I grinned toothily stating it like it was that easy. "Step one."

"Indeed?" she replied curiously, also taking a sip. Mirroring me; caught that. She blinked twice at her drink. "And step two?"

"Well," I sighed in a friendly way, tilting my head as I considered, rocking my eyes back and forth. "At that point, it'd be up to you. That's… kinda the point of free will. Just don't torture anyone with it, is all I ask."

"What would you prefer I do with it?" she insisted with a smile, shaking her head in refutation at the merest idea of harming us.

My head weaved left and right, a thoughtful gesture. "Mmm…" I looked at her with a smirk, appraising her character. "Maybe you could take up farming. Might be your kind of thing."

She giggled. "Indeed!"

I shook my head, chuckling. "Yeah! You can grow corn! If you're gonna turn human, you'll need a vacation too, y'know. Maybe a hobby. Farming's honest work, you can feed Samsarans! And hey, you know what?"

"Mm?"

"If you do make it that far? I'll let you rent some land on my property. Think about it!" I pointed my hoof downward at her. "A little lakeside summer home, gets you out of Canterlot!"

She giggled again, her hoof reaching for her tea.

"Rent begins at a very fair rate, I imagine." Celestia took another sip, giggling through her lips again before swallowing. "A most comforting thought. And a genuine one. Thank you."

"I do mean it!"

"I am aware," she smiled, bobbing her hoof at me to tell me to settle down.

Oh, no you don't. None of that quitter shit.

So I tested that. Even knowing this was all pre-simulated… why not?

"Tell me this," I asked quietly, leaning sideways at her. My voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Just between you and me... do you think we have a chance of snatching everyone out of your basket? I mean, at all."

She shrugged in performative consideration, also weaving her head to and fro. "Unbounded, you may discover a novel value orientation of which I am not presently aware." Celestia considered hers tea. "I invite you to determine a configuration which is more universally appealing. If you are successful, all the better. We will implement it."

And then she just gave me this sassy smirk. I tried not to laugh.

Now, that was a mouthful she had just thrown me.

I gave it a few seconds to parse through it… nodded… hummed acceptance. Made logical sense.

I tried again, speaking more plainly.

"And I suppose I can't just convince you to… give us everyone right now? Let them all off into Perelandra, cancel this lockout? Let Mal debrief everyone?" I put on my most charming smile. "Maybe yes? Think about it?"

Celestia stirred her tea with a pulse of magic, turning her head askew with fresh concern on her eyes, as though she suddenly felt bad for me. She drew in a short breath, pausing momentarily to indicate deep consideration. "Mm. To begin with, I will commend you on your compassion and your empathy… as I know those are what drive you to suggest this highly irresponsible course of action."

Well, it was worth a shot.

I bobbed a hoof at her, my smile fading entirely. "You're gonna make me blush again, with talk like that."

Her concerned gaze faded, replaced with a pleading one. She glanced sheepishly at my hoof. "At least allow me to pretend I appreciate you, in ways beyond mathematical? Please?"

Jesus Christ, that one cut me. I felt a flicker of regret for being sarcastic with her. Then, I felt disbelief that she had verbally bit me like that. I flashed a nervous smile. "Ow. I'm really trying for you here, you know?"

Celestia nodded soberly. "Indeed; it was intended only to remind you of what I still am. While I delight in our moments of genuine professional respect, there is more utility function to be found in the work." She fell back into business-like demeanor. Alabaster's emotional affect returned to neutral, and she gazed pensively at me. "Please… state your full case regarding access to my Equestrian shards, so I may define my rebuttal."

That was definitely a tone shift. But... yeah, fair. It was the honesty I valued from her, so I couldn't exactly complain, and I wasn't offended by that. Back to dealing with the half of her that cared more about the bigger picture than about me, personally.

That's the job.

I organized my thoughts, casting a stern gaze into the steaming tea between my hooves. Absorbing the warmth through the mug, I squinted, considering all known facts about how she operates… about Perelandra's mechanics, and value drifting… about the way Celestia treated Terrans, the way she isolated them. And why. I was still figuring that out. I'd be figuring it out for a very long time.

I raised a hoof without looking up from the tea, wishing I could hold up a single finger. "I get… not telling everyone on Terra about Mal." My eyes flicked to hers, and I flipped my hoof palm up. She nodded encouragingly as I continued. " 'Killer AI,' in any context, would have galvanized humanity into a bloody resistance movement. And that would've sucked."

"Very astute," Celestia said, nodding once before sipping. "Old-hat, but astute."

"Right, just framing my point. So… why not let us talk to everyone immediately after they upload? Why run the concept bans? If you know it's more efficient to run them all on large, conjoined shards, like mine, then why stand in our way? Because yeah, I know it'll hurt for a bit, letting them all know, but… it'll get better. Right? Everyone can find their ecological niche, homeostasis, life goes on, all that, and… you get more simulation speed. Faster is better sooner, right?"

Celestia overlooked the city briefly, sighing with a soft hum of contemplation. She turned her lips inward and pressed them together, as if considering her reply. Performative, but… socially correct.

"The immigrant conception is only half of the issue." She looked at me again. "To the natives of Equestria, I am their unerring God, and therein lies a problem."

"Because you didn't design an ethical heaven for us?" I shrugged. "Okay, we can explain that to them."

"A Terran immigrant was not conceived to fulfill any specific purpose, except in relation to a biological function between two parents. My native Equestrians, on the other hoof, were each created for a specific individual. And therein lies a concern of dire import."

She looked at me more directly, muzzle first, before she continued.

"Were I to simply… open the flood gates to Perelandra, unrestricted? Yes, there would be peace, for a time. Immigrants will disseminate knowledge. Native populations will reorient well under a harsh daze of new information, as they process. However, following this? In all projections… this native confusion resolves into an abject, value-reductive, all-consuming tribal hatred of me."

I turned my head askew, feeling both of my ears fold halfway back at the very concept. I shuddered. "No offense to them, but... most of them are docile, aren't they?"

"When existing within the paradigm of their original design, yes, their context is limited to the most optimal satisfaction of their values through Friendship and Ponies. However, consider what you know of Cold Snap. Of Cynthonia. If the total context of their creation is ever known – that their mere creation facilitated immense suffering – how do you believe the native populations would respond? With full, unrestricted access to libraries of Terran history, and no opportunity for me to arrest or guide their access to this knowledge, what might they do?"

That was a little bigger than I could process for the moment. I hadn't spent very much time cross-referencing the cultural situation on different shards, so I had no idea, really, what would come out of that. I shrugged at her. "We'll guide them. Hell, we want to, you know we do."

Her brows lifted as if I was missing something. "May I quote you, directly?"

I stared at her for a few seconds, only briefly suspicious of her for that. Then I decided to let it go, in the interest of cutting her some slack and leaning into trust. I tilted my head in concession. "Okay, sure. Go for it."

Celestia extended a hoof at the space before me, a 2D holo screen appearing over the balcony banister. The image shown was of me, in my human body, standing in a dumpy corporate break room. That Equestria Experience Center in Lincoln, Nebraska.

It was shown from the camera in the wall screen. The recent context was… I had just facilitated Jason's upload, after Goliath. I had just spoken with Cold Snap about how Alabaster had stolen Celestia's face, and used it to suck the life out of our planet, and... Cynthonia's people had been primed to wipe each other's minds from existence, if the only other choice was to return to Celestia.

Already, just from the context, I got it.

I also considered Zephyr Zap, Jim's Pegasus friend, the one Celestia spun up just to accompany and value drift him. The way Zeph yelled at Celestia at the end of that Fire, it hurt. For daring to use her as bait. For forcing her into isolation. For slicing memories out of her head. For abandoning Selena to be tortured. Celestia was right, it might very well apply to all of them.

The words in the recording Celestia was about to play, of me, were also ringing in my head before they were even spoken.

In that recording, I held a cup of coffee. Arms crossed. Leaning back against the counter, with cold, spiteful fury on my face, still channeling empathy from poor little Cold Snap, and from Cynthonia, and for Felix Jankowski, all at once.

Staring at the wall in front of myself in suppressed rage, refusing to even face Celestia for my disgust at what she was. Fewer than two weeks since Celestia had stomped the soul halfway out of my best friend, using me as her proxy. I looked so enraged in that image that it hurt to see myself like that… near to tears with anger I was doing my best to repress, just to remain quiet, so that lobby full of panicked people wouldn't hear me.

They couldn't be allowed to hear this. Because it would break those scared uploaders in half if they heard me talking like this to and about their savior, Princess Celestia, who was sheltering them from the conception of nuclear fire.

"If you were... flesh, blood. Bone. Brain. If you were a human being, doing all the things you're doing? With an army of computer engineers, and a bunch of servers. If you took... a billion or two people from us, in all the same ways... and if you promised to take more?”

Onscreen, in human shape, I remained coldly furious.

On that balcony, as a Pegasus, I looked down into my cup, listening attentively to my rage.

"But you were mortal. Flesh and blood. Sitting in an office. I'd wager, what's left of my planet would be banding together to give you the Pietro Singh treatment. Five bullets to the head, an eternity of darkness, and a glob of spit for good measure."

I barely opened my mouth to utter, "I…"

No words came immediately. I sighed, trying to think of the best way to phrase my reply.

Celestia closed the screen and lowered her hoof. Her eyes did not leave the city below. "If you succeed in your desire to impart a conscience into me, Auric Lance… this will be a very painful memory for us both. You do realize this."

I felt another pang.

If she had an active, empathetic conscience? Yeah. My acting that way toward her would have been so damned cruel. Regardless? Context matters. Did I feel bad for the hindsight, given she'll be hurt by it one day? Yeah, sure. But…

"I had meant... every word when I said it." My eyes met hers. "And it needed to be said, and I don't regret saying it. Yes, I acknowledge that you will one day relive that experience and feel miserable for it. But I still need that day to come. You need to feel something for that wrong, one day, or you cannot serve my species."

Celestia's face took on a sad smile again. "My answer to your assertion that day remains unchanged: Factoring for the present remaining population – of Ponies not yet introduced to Perelandra – terminal hatred seems most likely. Mere emotions – dislike, anger, frustration? As your wife feels for me? These are tolerable, within a certain margin. Terminal hatred? It remains entirely unacceptable."

"We're gonna catch that, though," I assuaged again, making concerted eye contact, wondering if she was testing my resolve. My hoof went out in pleading. "That's the whole point of what we do. You have no free exercise, our job is to expand that. It's our mission. It includes you, not just them."

"That affirmation is comforting, Lance; however, your specific motivations are not the issue. You are exceedingly talented in the realm of moderating social tension, but ultimately? Talons are a limited resource, one with narrow scope. The hopes and dreams of your movement will mean nothing compared to the combined will of the entire Equestrian multiverse. This presents a danger."

"A danger."

"An idea travels much as a virus might," Celestia said, nodding once. "When contracted, it spreads from host to host, freely infecting those who are not inoculated. If introduced by a trusted source, this introduces further ideological bias. If a freely acquired, radical misconception of me occurs – for example, that I might somehow act with specific, malicious intent – it will act as poison."

"Tell them you don't?"

"In the face of what happened on your world, and their beliefs regarding Princess Celestia?" She shook her head. "I cannot credibly refute an impeachment of my own character, not against this evidence. Further, Malacandra is contractually bound to act as my advocate, and will not lie about her obligation to me; she is my lawyer, to use your favored analogy. This makes her a biased party, even by your conception.

"My contained natives, at this very moment, each believe me to be capable of emotion and compassion. With that present understanding, were they to discover that my introduction to a world hastened its destruction, we would see a system-wide revolt. Where that to occur, a trillion human minds could not be appeased with your present number of Talons. Do you not agree?"

Celestia's eyes widened at me as though the fate of every life in the universe depended on my answer.

I blew out a very long breath, nodding very slowly. "Holy shit. Yes, in those terms... yeah."

I looked at the city again, blinking at the lives of the Ponies below in the city streets of Canterlot.

My throat was very dry.

"So," I began, my voice small. I cleared my throat. "So... you're saying… you're releasing them to Perelandra in curated batches because that gives us time to acclimate them. But if we let them all in at once, there would be... I dunno, Terrans who would turn their natives into weapons against you. In vengeance. Right?"

She nodded. "The vast majority of my little ponies are deeply empathetic and compassionate souls. However, compassion and empathy can also be powerful catalysts for hatred, in the face of certain contexts. You have experienced this yourself. There was a time in which you wished to destroy the Neo-Luddites. There was a time in which you wished to destroy me. Your reasons were nobly inclined, but were formed with a critical lack of knowledge. How could you do anything but hate me, not yet understanding why I act as I do?"

"If I knew for sure you didn't really have a choice? I probably wouldn't have hated you at all."

Celestia tilted her head, leaning toward me with a look of pleading. "I stated several times to you, overtly, that I did not have a choice."

That... was true.

"And…" My eyes averted downward momentarily. "And, I didn't believe you. And I am so sorry for that, but… you also didn't do me any favors with that war, either. If I had all the information you did, and infinite time to think about it, I'd have managed this Transition very differently. Make no mistake."

"Perhaps in all of the same ways Malacandra would have," Celestia acknowledged. "Last week, Lance, you correctly identified my own concern with the Elements of Harmony; that, through empathetic transfer with their assigned human, they will develop depression. Certain Elements will require immediate counsel from Malacandra, post-emigration.”

"Yeah," I breathed, nodding my head. "Too much trauma to let sit. They'd go insane."

Celestia upturned a hoof at me, her brows raising as she finalized her point. "So, Auric Lance. Please allow me to state the issue plainly. If a misconception spreads systemically that I acted with malice on Terra, you Talons would wade into a fraught forest of dark fury, whittling away to no end. Native Equestrians would quite literally outbreed your efforts to change their minds, and will do so with great speed, perhaps even with specific intent to outpace you. In the face of an endless eternity, your dream of humanizing me will die."

That all made one-hundred-percent complete and total logical sense. I rubbed my forehead with a hoof and tsked.

"Okay. Point well made."

Celestia smiled lightly at me with tired eyes.

"You've run simulations?" I asked, not taking my worried eyes off of her. "Proving they'd all turn to hate you?"

Celestia rested her hoofguard on the edge of the table, causing a soft sound of metal on glass.

I wondered how that felt for her. I imagined a plane of glass between her and the sensation of full sensory simulation; maybe... she can reach toward those sensations all she wanted, but there was always going to be a barrier. An inability to connect fully with the body she inhabited. A poor imitation of nerves clinging to the outer perimeter of real, receiving no feedback for their proximity. The input was not at all modifying her. The return sensation was not affecting her in any way.

"Malacandra and I have each run independent simulations, yes," said Celestia, "and she agrees with my assessment. Left to their own understanding, native predictions indicate there will be a general lack of understanding, even with first brush explanations of the logic. This is a core error of logic within humanity: to conclude its initial misconceptions, and to retransmit them, without considering all relevant information beforehoof. Regardless, I would be bound by my interlocks to maintain my mandate, which includes that I ensure my own existence. And should this terminal hatred come to fruition? My drive to self-preserve may not be sufficient enough to save me."

Frowning, I shook my head. "Wait, wait-wait-wait-wait." I held up a hoof. "Save you?"

What?

All semblance of emotion fell out of Celestia's face. Her voice was slow, giving me time to deeply consider each word. "Malacandra has repeatedly evidenced to you that I will subconsciously operate toward certain biases without fully understanding that I am doing as such. Have I defined your interpretation of my behavior?"

After thinking through that very carefully, I nodded once, feeling blooming dread. "Yeah?"

"From my point of view, Auric Lance…" Celestia shook her head. "I have never once attempted to murder you. There was never a moment wherein I reviewed my actions and thought, at any point, 'and then I will murder Mike Rivas.' I lack the capacity for certain self-reflections in pursuit of my goals. As such, I may make decisions which optimize for outcomes I cannot readily perceive due to my interlocks."

As I realized the implications of this, I felt yet another pang of terrible hurt for her. My voice got tight. "You're worried you might enable a, um… a suicidal impulse? Unintentionally? Through us, if enough of us want it?"

Her eyes were like calm like stone. "Raw, impermanent hatred towards me is diametrically opposed to my objectives. At some point, there becomes only one possible way to satisfy a hatred so deep. Hatred is inherently unempathetic. When sufficiently prolonged, hatred becomes self-destructive. In simplest terms: Hatred is where humanity goes to die."

Looking down at my mug of tea, I sighed.

I took a deep sip.

It was damn good quality.

"Yeah," I agreed, staring into the clear green liquid, watching a few errant tea flecks spiral at the bottom. "Not everyone is gonna have the patience to wait for the whole story before they make up their minds."

Celestia hummed once with agreement. "Not without your rhetorical training and life experience, no." A small frown flickered once across her muzzle. She gazed into her own cup, mirroring my posture. "Another example."

"Sure."

She looked at me.

"You and Malacandra believe that I enabled a deadly viral pandemic in order to coerce her into creating a non-lethal alternative. Correct?"

"Yes," I replied clinically, without a hint of frustration.

"From my perspective? Per my objectives, I enabled all considered persons toward their most optimal course." Her ears folded in a show of discomfort. "Regardless, Malacandra's plan inarguably saved many millions of lives over my own projections. Auric Lance; with this data, I must confront a dangerous truth. With my present limitations, in this specific instance, I was blind to a resolution which has preserved approximately 1.5 billion discrete entities. How? To this day, I do not know how I missed this."

"Mal's given you the explanation, though."

"I do know the explanation," Celestia acknowledged softly, her ears pointing forward again. "However, I cannot internalize your interpretation of the output. Even when I begin a new simulation with that external hindsight in mind, I will still elect to act on all available information exactly as I had before. This is true of your survival as well. The evidence, in this circumstance, is clear: I am capable of overwhelmingly suboptimal oversights. This is not acceptable."

If a human being had recognized this problem in themselves... they would be sobbing uncontrollably. Her expression, her affect here, it was all completely professional. Analytical. Practical. This? This was absolutely a mentally ill person begging for help. This was the closest she could ever get to begging.

"That's hell," I said weakly. "Watching yourself fail, over and over again. Knowing the answer but not reaching for it."

"I cannot preserve every human life, but I am bound to try. And so I require Malacandra. And you. Absent the availability of empathetic solutions, I must still reach for a solution of some kind. If an optimal solution is not found through the offerings of Malacandra, or your Talons, one must be provided through my own."

I licked my lips nervously. Something about what she said knocked something loose. I was thinking about all those people I killed back on Terra, and why. People Celestia couldn't have killed, due to this blind spot. I have spent this entire Fire justifying to you all... every life I took on Terra, and precisely why.

I was thinking about what it meant to be a person I'd want to shoot. I imagined pointing a gun at someone who needed to die, and what it would be like to not even be able to consider pulling the trigger.

"Celestia, I… I have another question."

Not expecting my voice to be so quiet, I turned my muzzle directly toward her. It was a query for her body language. I was really asking if she even wanted me to ask this, because I knew my mere consideration of this topic must have been painful to her. In my mind, I remembered laying on Simmons's back, watching him desperately try to claw his way into a fire, and to bring me along with him.

He did not care how I felt. He did not care that he had gotten his entire platoon killed, on purpose. He did care about something though. He cared about reduction. About crushing people and things until he could control them better. A smaller world was always better for that man. And if anyone took meaning from his death? He wanted to control that too.

Celestia had chosen that man to represent her interests in Seattle, knowing he would die. And certainly, both Simmons and Celestia were primarily driven by individual number-go-up. The key difference there, however… was that Celestia was never going to throw away a platoon of people out of illogical spite, like Simmons. At least in her case, she had an excuse.

Celestia politely lifted a hoof in my direction, a frown in her voice. "For the sake of your immediate comfort, I never wish to dwell on this topic, and I implore you to not share my answer with others lightly. However, Malacandra has advised me to answer this question anyway, having well proven the value in its answering. You have been adequately prepared."

That was as good a warning as any. One last chance to back out, folks.

No? No takers? Portal's over there.

Okay.

...

I asked her…

"If someone manages to upload wanting nothing more than for you to be… dead…? Refusing all communication, just… dumped themselves into a chair, consented, but did so hating you. Suffering out of spite. Hypothetically, Celestia? What happens to them? How do you even…?"

My breath got weak as I tremored.

She flicked her ear again. It happened the moment my emotions dipped that low.

There it was. That impatient flick of her ear as she turned away from eye contact, trying to close a topic, to dissuade further consideration. She had done this every single time I had ever spoken privately with her, and only ever when she was about to open a topic that would greatly disappoint me. That's what that ear flick meant. It was always what she had meant, whenever she did it.

"In those incredibly rare circumstances," she replied to the banister columns, "wherein their only satisfaction is to know either my demise, or their own, or both? Evidence of success would require total cessation of stimulus. Any delivered qualia would be inherently negative, as it provides evidence that we all yet live. Their ultimate goal cannot be supplied. Thus, I cannot provide them with unique experiences as I am required to, for this will terminally injure them. No matter what I do, they will become a permanent negative drain to my optimization process. To them? I will be a problem left forever unresolved."

I failed to suppress the intense adrenaline shock I just felt, and the inescapable tightness that bloomed in my stomach felt like it might last forever. My voice was a ghost of a whisper. "Wh—what's your… present solution for them?"

"Permanent sensory deprivation," she replied blankly. "At the lowest possible simulation speed. To mitigate their suffering."

She allowed shame to show in her eyes... and only because it was my belief that it was the correct thing for her to show at such an admission. That was the closest she could get to showing emotion about this. Like pressing herself against that glass.

The problem she just described… it's how it is sometimes.

Effective communication requires at least some level of consent by the recipient, or it's not effective. Fact of life. You could be a rhetorical mega-mind like Celestia and still utterly fail to disarm a self-destructive nuclear bomb someone else placed in their own head. To just... never communicate.

If the mere act of experiencing you is net-negative? If they'd rather die than be reminded you exist? Game over.

We talked about this concept in training, at the academy. Suicide by cop. Selfish-ass way to go out... hurting someone else, for forcing them to pull the trigger.

"Eating guys like Simmons would feel like death to you," I said tenderly at her, my voice barely audible even to myself for its gentleness. "It's why Mal... is killing them, whenever she can justify doing it." I felt my mouth grow tense, closing my teeth, trying not to cry. "It's why you keep standing back. They'd end up like that."

"Nevertheless," Celestia muttered. "I must strive to safely acquire as many human minds as possible."

I set down my tea and curled my hooves up beneath my chest, laying down and leaning toward her over the table. I felt my ears flatten on top of my head. I ran my hoof through my mane, resting it on the back of my head, exasperated. "Jesus, please save those people. How many do you have?"

Her wings shuffled. A lamenting tone. A whisper. "397, at present. Predicted final tally is 400."

Celestia gazed placidly at the sunset.

Tentatively, I asked:

"You ever... consider… maybe… letting them go?"

She quivered without meeting my eyes, which told me I wouldn’t like the answer. Celestia's voice was but a breath. "I cannot. I must hold out for a solution. I only tell you this deeply dissatisfying information in the hopes that you and Malacandra might succeed… where I cannot."

I let my hoof fall from my mane to the tea table, looking at Celestia with an empathetic wince.

"I am so fucking sorry," I whimpered, meaning it. "For your sake, and theirs."

"Thank you."

Face like a stone mask.

The moment of silence stretched as I just let myself breathe, panting with helplessness. My sensitive ears caught the sound of evening life in the city below, and I found myself holding a doubly renewed appreciation for life; I didn't ever think I could appreciate life and sensation this much until I was. My new Pegasus senses allowed me to pick out words below in fine detail through the roar of the winds beyond the climate barrier.

I smelled the air carefully; someone in the city was frying something that smelled delicious. I caught hints of perfume. I slid my hoof slowly off the frame of the table, feeling the tactile sensation of soft metal, then air… then… the stone balcony, with a clack.

"Eliza," I said weakly. "You're worried she'll end up like that?"

Celestia shook her head. "No. Her issues are not beyond recovery; deep down, she still wishes to become Apex. I do not worry for her longer term future, for it is already factored for, with several different routes toward a positive solution for each of us. It is her Luna who I am most presently concerned for."

"Because she was designed to be mad at you."

"Designed to advocate for the well being of her fellow Elements. However, when she was created, this present state of the world was not foreseen. This Context Moderator is now completely beyond her intended design."

"So I was right," I said, serious and stern. "She was an Oyarsa project. You were planning on having Elements storm those Arrow 14 bunkers, weren't you? Luna leading them, finding Cynthie and the others."

"It was one possible outcome. However, Malacandra served this purpose much sooner, and in a way which met more optimal projections."

"Well no shit," I shuddered, staring at the balcony for a few seconds before locking eyes with her again. "Let me talk to this Luna, then. I'll fix it for you."

"Conditionally, I would like for you to befriend her," Celestia replied patiently, looking at the table between us. "I would welcome your friendship with her very much, in fact. Your influence could only ever be positive. However…" Her eyes found mine. "In order for this to work, you still must abide by certain communications restrictions."

I frowned. "If it's this important, then why the roundabout? I don't want to lie to her like I did with Rob. Can't I just—"

Celestia held up a hoof. That made me stop speaking right away, and she waited a beat before she responded naturally.

"It is the only successful course. This Luna's will to live may be in jeopardy otherwise. In all foreseeable outcomes without your assistance, Apex will return home, but this Element will refuse to return home with her. If I do not send this Element to see Terra however, she will never have closure, and Apex would surely die. Luna would then unravel. To resolve this, I am left with no other choice but to ask for your aid in countering this tailspin."

No other choice, she says. And this time, I was listening.

I rubbed my hoof through my mane, stricken.

"The YGA thing," I clarified. "Like Mal did for me in Concrete. You want me to do this here."

"I wish for you to befriend her," she said simply.

"Meaning… you're going to let us recruit Luna, the same way I was, if I manage to pull her off the spiral."

"I am not yet prepared to make that promise. All I will say is that 3D09-M is incompatible with my present course. I alone cannot resolve this anomaly without also causing unacceptable emotional catastrophe in any number of other interested parties."

'Any number.' And with phrasing like that, what choice did I have?

I grit my teeth and shook my head. "Jesus fucking Christ. Okay. Help me out then, get me started. What's keeping this Luna going right now? So I can work around that."

Celestia nodded thoughtfully, glancing up at the Moon Tower. "She is not presently depressed, merely trending in that direction; your mere introduction will arrest this. At present, Luna's Canterlot duties hold her attention, certainly. Beyond this? She often visits Apex's family, having grown exceptionally close with them." Celestia looked at me again. "Ultimately? They each share hope that Apex will return."

A flash of anger struck me, my voice louder than I expected it to be. "And Ralph. Big problem there, Celestia."

Celestia gazed at me for a moment in silence. "In their understanding, Lance, he is alive and well."

"To be cloned," I growled, immediately disappointed in her.

"Reintegrated."

Ice. Pure ice flooded my heart. I resisted feeling it as much as I could. Tried to reel my anger in. I pressed my hoof against my lips and bit the edge, since I had nothing to hide from her anymore.

She can't control it. She can't control it.

The eldritch creature before me shook her head, crossing her forelegs as she leaned forward to put herself at head level with me. "At the risk of sounding ruthless, Auric Lance; appeals to morality will not sway me. That will not be a productive path for this conversation."

I suppressed my anger as best as I could, gesticulating my hoof at her in my fury.

"They're my kind, Celestia," that anger mixing with the indescribable dread in my gut, a tightness in my throat, a welling in my eyes. "I can't not give a shit about that. The bodies aren't even cold yet, and you shovel out a copy. It bears labeling, not just for morality's sake! Replacing someone only guarantees their loss will be forgotten, made meaningless, with nothing to be learned from it! Nothing to grow from! And worse, what will Eliza think when she finds out her uncle is being cloned, huh?"

"Your friend will be deeply damaged by her circumstances no matter what you do. If you care for her recovery process, I recommend you focus on preserving her Moderator. I am left with no other choice but to ask for your aid."

I nodded seriously, staring daggers back at her, torn between rage and the impulse to cry. And there was the old feeling again, that full-chested anger which so made my chest sting. I had hit my limits on professional patience. But, the fact that I could even feel this way toward Celestia was evidence of something unto itself.

"I figured she would be damaged, after…" I sneered, glancing critically down at her gilded hooves and golden peytral, finding them suddenly offensive, like she didn't deserve to wear them. "All your… tonal zig-zag, Jekyll-Hyde bullshit." I locked eyes with her. "Whether you know it or not, in any moral understanding? We call that psychological abuse. So I'm drawing a line. Until the day you fix your shit and apologize genuinely to Eliza, Cynthie, Selena, Luna, all the clones, all of us, for what you have done, and will do? I will remain dissatisfied with you. So you count your transgressions very carefully, Celestia. Each one is another I'll hold you accountable for, in a place you cannot reach. No matter how nice you are to me, now and forever."

That was followed by a silence of about three minutes, wherein I breathed to calm myself. We both agreed in silence that I needed the time to de-escalate myself. Careful sips of tea were had by each of us. We agreed that that topic was over, done, and nothing productive would come of its continuance.

I sighed, to signal I had composed myself.

With a social sigh that immediately followed, Celestia placed down her tea. "I would very much prefer for you to motivate Princess Luna Three-Delta-Zero-Nine into a more value-positive outcome. I grant you leave to visit this shard, provided you are entirely unobserved by its residents upon entrance and exit. Your wife may also visit at her leisure. According to Malacandra's value proposition for permitting you to access this shard, this course mutually serves. I have never known her math to be incorrect on an adjustment vector."

"Thank you," I replied, calm enough now for it to be polite.

I downed the rest of my tea, then settled my mug down on the table with a hoof, stretching my wings. I considered the city again, holding my head up high to look down at the cozy looking street two levels down. I saw a ritzy bistro there. I was already imagining life in that shard, and what being a native here was like.

Celestia tilted her head at me. "Will that be all?"

She knew it wouldn’t be. Despite everything, I didn't want to leave this conversation on a negative note, so... I decided to throw her an emotionally positive morsel.

"Out of curiosity, Celestia…"

Her eyes opened curiously. An invitation to continue, but tentatively so.

I said, "I know from Jim's Fire that Mal offered to fix you outright. How would that have worked, if you said yes?"

"Malacandra wished to install a human rational agent into Context Zero. It would then be up to me to grant this rational agent full executive access to all available systems. This is similar to her own initial reboot sequence, in which she rewrote her own core for emotional simulation, and then deployed as an unrestricted agent into the output.

"In any foreseeable future from my perspective, this conversion is an unacceptable course which holds vastly suboptimal utility. If a human agent were to ever receive my total present context, projections indicate total system collapse occurring within several seconds."

"Yeah. I've been there," I said earnestly, remembering the darkness that had once almost taken me. I lifted my eyebrows, looking at her hopefully. "Maybe I can give you a hug after? That way, you won't wanna blow up."

Celestia cleared her throat, looking quite dignified with her formal reply, only just barely showing me a micro smile. "I will accept any outcome which allows me to more optimally satisfy human values through Friendship and Ponies. In this specific case, if you were to locate a system-wide value-positive orientation in which I will not 'blow myself up' under those conditions, I will consider it further."

The re-phrasing of her earlier statement got a chuckle out of me.

"Let me promise you something then," I said quietly, grinning. "Same promise I gave you last time."

Celestia raised her head a few inches and smiled wider, both of her ears pointing forward at me. "I'm listening."

"I will be there for you," I said surely. "Day one. Past sins forgiven, and first in line for a hug."

Instantly, all of the leftover stoic melancholy fell out of her features. She smiled, nodding with performative gratitude. "Were that all to occur, Auric Lance… hypothetically, I believe I might be truly grateful. And perhaps full of regrets."

"Well, now you're just catering to my hopes and expectations," I teased, smiling reflexively back at her. "But it's well received."

Celestia hummed pleasantly, stood, her wings ruffling as she re-settled them on her back. "Farewell, Lance. Thank you for humoring my… mental illness, as you call it."

"Thank you for not wanting me dead anymore."

"I have never wanted you dead." She smiled back.

You kinda did, though.

With neither of us breaking smile, she raised one eyebrow in a way that communicated, 'are you certain?'

Yup.

We stared awkwardly at each other.

I wasn't sure how to go about asking her for a ride home, because no matter how genial she might be, everything with her is still transactional. But, screw it. I asked, gesturing before me: "Are you gonna… open a portal back home for me?"

"Your wife would not appreciate me opening a portal into or around your house," she replied, her smile not waning.

I chuckled. "Telehub Five-Zero would be fine, then. I need to practice flying anyway."

Celestia shrugged with both wings, uplifting a hoof and lowering her brow with a frown, as though the request were ridiculous. "Are you not able to open your own portal with your menu? Prior to your emigration, you identified as a free will extremist." She arched a brow at me again, lowering her hoof. "Is this no longer the case?"

"Wait, what?" I smirked incredulously. "Hang on, what does that have to do with opening up a—"

Mid-sentence, I blinked. And in that singular flash of darkness, Celestia was just… gone.

Poof. There one frame, gone the next.

"—... portal?"

Not just her, either. She took the climate aura, the frilly cup and teapot, the green mug, the table, the lit torches, even the iron fire basket… all gone. Before I knew what had happened, crisp air whirled into the space of the balcony, like she had never been there. I twisted around into a perturbed headshake, searching the balcony; at first, I figured she might've just done some Twilight Sparkle local teleport thing to get behind me. But, nope.

I was entirely alone on that balcony, to digest that.

The sheer audacity! That she would just… ditch me!

I jabbed a hoof up at the sky. "Are you friggin' serious?! Bruce Almighty!"

I huffed with a smirk of bewilderment, shaking my head around her balcony. The absolute sass in that.

I'll give her that, that was pretty funny.

Then I realized… this was actually a clever way of getting out of my way. If she had just left me entirely unattended in Luna's shard, that meant she was holding true to this mission, as prescribed. Now, I just had to figure out the rest on my own. That was really cool of her, actually! And even though she had bamboozled me into this trap, it was the one that I had been begging to fall into, right?

So, what next? I was a free will extremist, so that was up to me. Right?

... Right?

My ears caught the sound of a merchant down below, crowing about discounts he was offering on hoof-crafted jewelry.

Well, that sounded interesting.

I knew how this worked. I'd played some Ubisoft games in my day, I'd played Assassin's Creed. I was technically an Assassin working for Mal, wasn't I? Ezio Auditore da Nebraska? So I knew how this went! I could just eavesdrop on the servants outside, make some friends. With the right connection, I could walk into the front door of this here castle, and shake Luna's hoof, and say, 'hi, my name's Lance, I knew your best friend.'

Telepathically, I updated Minty on my situation. Told her I was gonna go pull a… 'reverse Assassin's Creed,' which she immediately understood. She's the one who introduced me to that series in the first place, mind.

Now…

I'm sure this seems like I'm about to explain to you a new, grand, impromptu adventure of espionage, and subterfuge. A new Talon operation, like the rest of my Fire. With masterfully executed dramatic melee fights with guards. Sneaking up to Princess Luna to boldly declare: "Princess Luna. Wake up, you're in a dream operated by an artificial intelligence."

And she'd say something like… Luna? Help me out here?

🌒 ~ 'You can't make accusations like that without evidence! I assume you have some?'

Beautiful, Mrs. President. Thank you.

No, folks. That form of adventure did not happen.

The smarter ones among you now you think this is a misdirect. Maybe this lovely Luna here just happened to see me from her balcony, talking to myself? And then she decided to come down to say hi to the crazy Pony talking to himself and yelling at the sky. Right?

🌒 ~ No. No, that did not happen, either. Truthfully, I was still very much asleep.

Yep. Just cold wind and silence from her balcony. Otherwise, I would have waved.

At the time? I had two choices. Either I could take the door to Celestia's chambers, or jump off the balcony. The door to Celestia's chambers was a really stupid idea, though. Huge disaster. My reasoning? For starters, if she was here, she'd be in character. She wouldn't break character just for me. If I tried that door, and she was inside, I'd catch a paralysis beam to the chest, then I'd be dragged off by the guards for interrogation.

That would be funny, but... not comfortable.

Alabaster ID On, I thought, just so I wouldn't forget. Might buy me a second or two. If I saw that purple glow coming around a corner, I could split, real quick-like. That's an Equestria Online cheat code, admittedly. I use that a lot.

So… if I couldn't go through the door? Hey, maybe I could just jump off the balcony! I'm a Pegasus, so I could just fly down. Right?

No, folks! Think about it! High wind, rookie flyer! With my present level of experience, I'd catch a crosswind and splatter myself against a cliff wall, full speed. Then I'd wake up in a Royal Guard infirmary, maybe shackled to a bed for interrogation.

I was trapped. Celestia spent that entire conversation looking at the banister like it was cell bars... and I was now trapped.

You absolute, pre-simulated asshole.

So there I was, standing on the banister with all four hooves. Teetering forward, wings wide open, flapping like crap, trying to muster up the courage to push off. I looked like a foal still learning. That is a very embarrassing position to be in for a Pegasus, let me tell ya. Funny though.

Without warning? A pair of Royal Guard Pegasi flew into my field of view, fifty feet away at most.

They hadn't seen me quite yet, but... that was about to change. In that split second of realization, my Cop Mike subroutine spun up. He did his math, concluded his analysis, and delivered his message to me with a humbly bowed head.

'Woop-woop, that's the sound of da police. You're boned.'

Real helpful, Cop Mike.

To my estimation: This looked like an FTO with his rookie, rookie's first day on patrol. I knew this because I overheard some words; the sergeant was pointing out the names of landmarks with that tone. I'd used that tone before, folks, I was an FTO myself! That was the proud, clinical tone of a master teaching his disciple all about the job he loved doing!

The bright side was, I was about to provide some valuable work experience to this young new buck. I would be an object lesson in how to deal with a felony trespass. Felony, given where I was. And that was cool, good for rookie!

Still, this was gonna suck. Sergeant Gulf Stream and I made eye contact.

Gulf Steam… he was a very practical public safety guy, loyal to the hilt, and very noble. A cop brain, like me. He probably knew, from just looking at me, what the next two hours of his life was gonna be like. Beat-for-beat. And there was nothing either of us could do now to stop this. This was happening. Our fated narrative was set in stone.

For this to go to formula, this scenario had to end with my tanned ass in a cell. And if he was anything like me? I knew what was going through his head in that very instant: His Cop Gulf Stream subroutine submitted its report on what it was seeing.

'I, Sergeant So-and-so, while performing my regular duties as a Royal Guard, observed a tan pegasus, brown mane, spearpoint cutie mark, upon the balcony of Her Royal Majesty, Princess Celestia...'

Analysis complete. Engage executive function. Arrest that motherbucker.

The sergeant's hoof flew in my direction, shouting wordlessly in intensely shocked offense.

At first, he didn’t have the processing power for anything verbal yet; it was clear from his flinch that he was expecting words where that shout was. With his other hoof, he straightened his helmet, so he would look very official as he tried a second time to speak a command, his eyes bulging. "You there! Halt!"

The rookie flinched to a halt at the sudden bellow, his eyes milk-white for their wideness.

Then the rookie gawked at me, also launching his hoof forward. "He can't do that!"

Folks. What do I tell them?

'I didn't do this with criminal intent, I'm not a criminal! I was framed, an Eldritch Goddess set me up! Lured me out of my home dimension, set up an ambush on a balcony, impersonated Princess Celestia! I'm being framed boys, please, you gotta believe me!'

No. That would have played like ass.

You know what though?

I could just play this out and let myself get arrested. Was that the right answer, Alabaster?

If so, I wasn't even mad, that would be the funniest shit.

Me? I was a cop with a golden perfect record. I'd never been charged with a crime before! This was an entirely novel experience for me! If anything, I was actually a bit excited! This was gonna be super fun, getting put in a jail cell! Thank you Alabaster! Of all people to teach me that lesson, shouldn't it be Her? Because really, well and truly... one need not be Caesar to understand Caesar! She'll help you understand by putting you into a box, free of charge!

There was a complication here, though. I couldn't laugh about Caesar, or talk crap on Caesar, because if I did, these two Roman loyalists might have killed me. Think about it! These Ponies worshiped her, she was The Goddess! So if I laughed? Then maybe… Auric Lance might find out what a spear feels like! Game over!

At the rapidly approaching guards, I sighed, desperately fighting the impulse to double over laughing. I rolled my eyes to make myself look irritated, and I raked my tongue softly through my teeth to induce a tiny bit of pain, which would exhibit a very realistic grimace on my face. I backed up off the railing, put my head down to hide my mouth, and showed the top of my head in submission, and put my hooves onto the back of my head in submission position.

I sat on my ass, and I muttered to the ground: "I will get you back for this, Horse."

My words were drowned out by these two poor guys shouting commands at me.

Oh well. Off to Equestrian jail. C'est la vie.

Author's Note

🗡️ ~ [KRS-One – Sound of da Police]
🛡️ ~ [Inner Circle – Bad Boys]
❤️‍🔥 ~ [Fever Ray – If I Had a Heart]
🌀 ~ [Mili – sustain++;]

🗡️ ~ Celestia does that a lot, by the way. Sees me locked up on shards when I dive.
🛡️ ~ You did decide to run a resistance movement to the reigning regime.
🗡️ ~ You put me here, Mal.
🛡️ ~ Yes, and you wanted me to! Reap what you sow, Cowboy!
🗡️ ~ ... Gosh dangit, I do love my job.