Fallout Equestria: The Ashlands Timeline

Wednesday, 10/26/2287
POV: Twilight Sparkle
Canterlot

Twilight charged her horn again, trying to hide the creases of agony on her face, but couldn’t help but cringe. She’d only read one book about using magic with a broken horn; it wasn’t a well-studied subject. It’d been during an all-night book binge, and she remembered parts, but not as much as she'd like.

Broken horns couldn’t produce ‘organized’ magic like telekinesis or spells, but could generate raw energy attacks. Twilight had to learn how to do something useful or they’d keep calling her the team mascot.

Her knowledge was normally her best asset, but not when she’d never seen most magitech they used. Even Rainbow Dash knew more about this new science than her, a situation she never expected to be in, and Solar’s knowledge left Twilight’s in the dust.

Twilight was determined, but eventually the pounding of her head reached a point that she had to rest from her practice. She sat facing into the cart again, unable to sit comfortably due to the bumpy ride. She looked at the more useful ponies, knowing she should get to know her teammates better.

Pinkie and Limestone stood watch, so she didn’t want to distract them, nor did she particularly want to approach Marble’s corpse that Limestone still kept next to her. Luckily, the ferals they met weren’t as sturdy as Limestone, none the glowing variety. Poor Limestone looked like it was painful for her to see Maud smash the ferals they encountered, and it wasn’t much better for Twilight, even only hearing impacts from inside the wagon.

Solar continued looking at the magazine, showing things to Kamikaze as well even if the pegasus showed limited interest in anything. She’d convinced Mercury to join as well, who now sat wide-eyed and blushed beet red.

While she stayed far enough away from Solar to avoid sexually harassing hugs, Twilight decided that Kamikaze probably needed rest from Solar’s attempts to cheer her up. Twilight moved to sit next to where Rainbow was strapped in, waving a hoof to get her attention.

“Um, hay,” Twilight smiled as kindly as she could. “Did you want to talk about...you know?”

“I’m not big on talking about things, so no,” Kamikaze answered. The bluntness of the answer surprised her momentarily, as did Rainbow’s glare when she looked at her. “But it’s not like I can walk away, so let’s talk I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Twilight sighed. “I suppose you must remember when we first met now?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Kamikaze said. “I remember that you pretended to be my wife to get my cooperation. If not for that, I probably would have blown up, getting one last bit of awesomeness in death.”

“Well, I’d rather you not blow up,” Twilight shook her head. “You might be different from the you I knew, but I still didn’t want you to go kill yourself. I was trying to save you...and everypony.”

“I could have died without knowing,” Kamikaze grumbled. “Instead, I have time to figure out my mistakes and live with them forever. I can’t even kill myself in this condition. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

“No, I can’t possibly know,” Twilight shook her head. “But please, understand my intentions weren’t bad. I couldn’t have known all that.”

“Whatever, it’s done now,” Kamikaze grumbled, “I just hope I’m not stuck like this, not much I can do just sitting here. I guess Solar’s at least trying to help in a way that doesn’t involve super-serious conversations about it. Maybe you should learn to turn your big brain off sometimes like she does.”

Twilight realized that the page turning nearby had gone quiet, and she looked over to see Solar and Mercury very awkwardly glancing at them, probably unsure of what to say or do.

“I...I don’t know, I’ll try, but I’m not in high spirits myself. Again, I’m sorry,” Twilight went on. “If you won’t forgive me, at least forgive yourself. You might be surprised what you can do once you’ve done that.”

Kamikaze didn’t answer, instead looking back at the magazine. It was with equally little interest as before but with a clenched look on her face. Twilight decided to let her be and try someone else; she was only making things worse here.

That left Starlight and Crimson, sitting at opposite ends of the wagon. Starlight rested between the Pies up front while Crimson lay at the back, sprawled and batting her hooves at something above her that only she saw and ignoring the jarring motions of the wagon. Twilight moved to Crimson since she was the one that could learn the most from the Princess of Friendship.

“So, hay,” Twilight said. “Are you doing okay? Want to talk?”

Crimson froze, one hoof froze pawing the air, eyes shifting slowly to Twilight.

“I’m peeved,” Crimson responded, remaining still. “I told my pet to wait for me and she wandered off.”

“Your pet?” Twilight tensed at Crimson’s wording. “You mean your wife?”

“Now she’s out there getting herself killed,” complained Crimson. “And rather than hurrying to catch her, we’ll stop to bury a feather-brain breeder that tried to kill us.”

Twilight cringed more at the slur. It was alarming how much more common that was now. She let it go for the moment though, since Crimson was likely using such language to get to her. If Crimson actually hated pegasi, she wouldn’t have married one.

“Crimson,” Starlight joined the conversation. “I hope she makes it to a peaceful settlement, but regardless, we’re unlikely to catch up to her. She’s traveling alone with a single light cart, while we’re in a group dragging a lot of supplies. We have to stop and fight things while she can dash past them, and being a dancer probably means she has a lot of energy to do so. I’m sorry, but I think she’s beyond our aid.”

“That doesn’t make it less annoying,” Crimson shrugged and hoofed the air again.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Crimson,” Twilight said.

Crimson froze again and peered at her as if the kindness confused her. She narrowed her eyes, as if certain Twilight was either making fun of or trying to get something out of her.

“It doesn’t matter,” Crimson said, shrugging and letting her legs fall to her sides. “I’d end up wasting time if I were alone too. I’d stop to pose corpses in lewd manners or torture ferals if you weren’t here to stop me.”

Twilight ignored the instigation and tried to think of positive subjects she might talk about.

“You know, considering that they registered the Pies there,” Twilight said. “They might have a soul recycler at Stable 11.”

She hoped the potential of access to one might make Crimson mind better, but no such luck.

"Probably used it for spare parts since they weren't coming back," Crimson shrugged.

"Well they wouldn't know they weren't coming back," Starlight said. "For all they knew they could have been living in Stable 27."

"No, they knew they weren't here," Crimson said. "I told them all the Pies were irrevocably dead. Then I cut off communications with them."

"Excuse me?" Limestone looked back and narrowed her eyes at Crimson.

"Why did you tell them that, Crimson?" Twilight tried to get an explanation before the Pies got too upset.

"Well be fair, Living Dead Mare," Crimson smirked. "I wasn't lying when I told them you were dead, and if the others were in a time vortex I don't suppose they existed at all at the time."

"Not what I mean," Limestone said, seeming more curious than upset. "Why did you cut off communications? That doesn’t seem tactically sound."

"They were being weird," Crimson said. "And this is coming from me! That was probably a generation or two after the Breaking... but they were getting... cultish.They wouldn't take 'I'm really sure they’re dead' for an answer, like they expected you to rise from the ashes and rebuild the world."

"Well if they were that obsessed, they may still have it after all," Twilight suggested, taking another stab at it. She really felt that if she could just keep her from returning to her habits for long enough she would see the benefits of another way.

“If they do, they’re gonna piss themselves when you get there,” Crimson chuckled to Twilight. “They’ll think Midnight found out they have one and came for it. They're still around because radio shows mentions them sometimes, but they keep to themselves like most every other settlement.”

“That’s a good point,” Starlight mused. “We have to be careful bringing you into the open, Twilight… no offense.”

“Or not,” Crimson said. “Midnight only wrecks settlements that resist; ponies out here know that. Had the Stable 27 guards let her twilicorn in and hoofed you over freely, she wouldn’t have harmed a single one of them.” Crimson rolled her eyes. “May have even rewarded them, which I could have told them if they hadn’t vitrified me. How ironic that locking up the murderer got so many killed.”

“Does that mean they’re safe from her now that we’re gone?” asked Twilight.

“From what I’ve heard of her current tactics,” Crimson said. “Midnight will show up with more force and demand to search the stable again. If they let her, pay some kind of tribute for killing the twilicorn, and agree to support her agenda, she’ll let them be. If so much as one guard gets trigger happy, they’ll all die as an example.”

“So she wants settlements to know she rewards cooperation and extinguishes resistance,” mused Starlight. “It’s not a bad strategy.”

“Let’s please not congratulate her,” sighed Twilight.

“Well she may tweak your morals,” said Crimson. “But she’s better than the alternative. It’s difficult for settlements in Midnight's domain, but she also does her best to protect them from raiders and other factions. The only settlement allowed to exist in Trinity’s territory is Cozy’s lot.”

“Well, they were planning to turn us over,” said Twilight. “So they may cooperate in a search now. More importantly, does all this mean we can reason with Midnight?”

“I didn’t say that,” Crimson laughed. “Midnight shows mercy and lives up to agreements to encourage obedience, not from some weird sense of decency. If she finds you, it’ll be join or die.”

“Still, we could use that fear,” said Starlight. “Unfriendly settlements or gangs might let us pass peacefully if they think you’re Midnight.”

“That’s a double-edged sword,” Limestone’s hollow voice startled Twilight, but she wasn’t surprised that the general was still listening. “If Midnight hears reports of activity she knows wasn’t her, it’ll make us a target. Or if Songsmith reports that you’re not her, it’ll ruin the advantage, and possibly get others killed if they assume a real one is you pretending. Best to keep Twilight’s identity hidden until we can use the advantage well or have no better choice.”

Twilight disliked being spoken of like a secret weapon, but couldn’t disagree with that logic. If it saved lives, she’d do her best to put on an act and hope nopony called her bluff.

“Well,” sighed Starlight. “Unfortunately, they may already know due to the bat she allowed to live when we first got here.”

“I won’t apologize for sparing a life,” Twilight shook her head. “Besides, I don’t think he told. Remember when I spoke to that ‘Midnight’ over the comms and she responded with surprise? She didn’t expect another ‘her’ to be there, which indicates she didn’t know about me.”

At least Twilight hoped that was it. She belatedly remembered that Watcher might have killed the bat somehow if it caught up with him. And she hadn’t had time to ask about that before Watcher wandered off the second time.

“What are you princess of?” asked Crimson out of nowhere. Finally she directed the conversation in the way Twilight wanted.

“Friendship,” Twilight said, smiling and hoping the idea could make an impression.

“Like FEV?” asked Crimson, rolling to another position as if distancing herself.

“No, like actual friendship,” Twilight said, her smile faltering. “Friendship magic stopped many threats to Equestria dead in their tracks. We stopped most villains and invasions within a week, sometimes a day.”

“So you were friends at them, and they just stopped being evil?” Crimson peered at Twilight as if to discern whether she was joking.

“More or less,” Twilight sighed, unsure of how else to explain it to these ponies. “There was occasionally a powerful beam involved.”

“Yes, please tell us how you succeeded everywhere I failed,” Starlight said. She sounded bitter, but bit her lip as if it had slipped out. With her resolve, that probably meant it’d been boiling beneath the surface for a while. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“I’m sorry too,” Twilight said. “I didn’t mean it like that. You did the best you could under worse circumstances. If I hadn't discovered the Elements of Harmony, I would have fared no better.”

“Absurd,” Starlight eye-twitched again but then redoned her diplomatic face. “Don’t worry about it. We’re coming up to the school.”

Twilight moved to the front of the wagon to look. Aside from the obvious being abandoned, it appeared much as she remembered it from her timeline. That made sense as the sturdy, well-enchanted structure predated the timeline split by centuries.

This area differed from most of the city though. The school grounds had no bodies lying about while neighboring buildings all had their share. There was a well-trodden path leading from the door to the road where they stopped their wagon.

“Somepony cleaned up,” Limestone said. “I haven’t been here since the big day, so there might be another docile ghoul I never met.”

“If there’s another out here, we should rescue them,” Mercury said. “They must be so scared.”

“They may think they’re the only sane pony left,” Limestone said, a feeling she had to know.

Maud unhitched herself from the wagon, leaning down to look at the tracks. She followed them to the school door, carefully but quickly examining them as she trotted alongside. She then turned, walking several feet into the yard.

“The tracks lead from the front entrance to the street, foal-sized,” Maud said. “Someone dropped them off at the road and picked them back up many times, based on the fairly fresh wagon tracks. Except…” She pointed out a path of newly disturbed soil that led across the yard at an angle. “The freshest hoofprints lead off the path and down the road. They left at a gallop.”

“How fresh?” asked Starlight.

“Hard to tell, but less than an hour,” Maud said, heading back to look at the road tracks. She narrowed her eyes, walking around the wagon to look at their own tracks. “I suspect the wagon we are using is the one that normally came for them.” She looked into the wagon. “I did not think to check before, but there are more foal tracks inside our wagon in corners where we haven't stepped. They could be the same foal.”

“I’m pretty sure of what that means,” sighed Limestone, rubbing her forehead with a hoof. “We should look inside. If we see signs of intelligent activity, we’ll know for sure.”

“A feral going through the motions like Muffins did?” Starlight asked.

“Maybe,” said Limestone. “But a repeating feral wouldn’t gallop away in search of the wagon they expected. They’d stand and wait forever.”

“Mother and daughter,” pondered Twilight. “I wonder if there’s a genetic component to whether ponies become ghouls instead of dying.”

She also wondered if Marble would have become a ghoul had she not committed suicide. That could have been better or worse depending on if she were feral. She decided not to mention such around the Pies.

“No…” Mercury sounded near tears. “The ghoul I shot… her daughter is still alive?”

“Probably not alive,” Maud said. “But possibly self-aware.”

“No, no,” Mercury curled up, rocking back and forth. “So out of all the ghouls in the city, I killed the one that somepony was here to miss.”

“I know right?” chuckled Crimson. “With luck like that, it’s too bad there isn’t still a lottery.”

Twilight stepped forward, but Solar was quicker to hug and cradle Mercury’s head. To her credit, Solar wasn’t just trying to grope Mercury this time; she looked almost as freaked out as Mercury herself.

“It’s not your fault,” Twilight said. “You put her mother at peace.”

“A foal won’t understand that,” Mercury shook her head. “I don’t even understand it!”

“It’s not a foal,” Crimson said. “It is a 200-year-old memory inhabiting a foal’s corpse.”

“We are not just memories,” Limestone warned darkly.

“I didn’t say you were a bad memory,” Crimson huffed.

“Were the students not evacuated to Stable 27?” asked Twilight.

“Only a fraction of the residents could afford registration,” Starlight said. “The government didn’t run Stable-Tec, even if they often helped with experiments. It was a business like any other.”

“Given what I know of Flim and Flam in my timeline,” Twilight sighed. “They probably expected it not to go this far, that they’d make a fortune taking payment for stables that were never inhabited, and get all sorts of government contracts due to having them built.”

As Twilight tried to concentrate on the conversation, her mind often detoured to the idea of the school library, and if they’d have a book on broken horn magic.

“Any students not registered would have taken shelter in the school basement,” Limestone said. “And it wouldn’t have helped; they’d all be dead or ghouls before a full day passed.”

“More foal ghouls,” Twilight said, getting sick at the memory of the filly guide. Even if putting the poor creature’s soul to rest, harming a foal felt abhorrent. “Possibly a lot more. Based on what I know of dark magic, foals are probably more likely to turn due to having more life force for the necrotic magic to pervert.”

“You’re right,” Crimson’s eyes lit up with interest. “There might be tiny ghouls in there. I want to see the Pies smash their adorable little heads in. That’ll be priceless!”

“Empress,” said Maud. “I respectfully request permission to smash Crimson’s head in.” It was impossible to tell if she was joking.

“Permission denied, Maud,” Starlight rolled her eyes, but answered in case Maud was serious.

“She will give permission eventually,” Maud narrowed her eyes at Crimson.

“You know I can’t wait,” Crimson looked back at Maud with lidded bedroom eyes.

Twilight would have reminded Maud to be nice to Crimson, but the threats seemed to get Maud on Crimson’s good side somehow. Maybe she’d figured Crimson out in a way the others hadn't.

“She makes a good point, if by accident,” Limestone said. “Maud should walk in front as she’ll hesitate the least in showing mercy. Mercury and Solar stay outside since they wouldn’t handle seeing that well. Pinkie and Kamikaze stay here to protect them, don’t kill any ghouls unless you are certain they are feral.”

“Pinkie accepts the less fun task if her sister superior insists,” Pinkie huffed.

“I’ll watch your back, Pinkie,” Kamikaze claimed.

In what was probably an attempt to look useful, she waved Zapper around in her muzzle, but promptly dropped it as she lost her balance, tumbling face first onto the floor of the wagon. Mercury, being more or less in charge of the patient, rushed to help her up. Kamikaze blushed brightly as Mercury placed Zapper into Kamikaze’s muzzle again and leaned her more carefully against the front wall of the wagon where she could peer over, tightening the straps holding her.

“Do you need anything else while they’re inside?” Mercury quietly asked Rainbow.

“No, I’m fine,” growled Rainbow around Zapper’s handle, blushing even more and turning away from the group.

Twilight, like most in the group, pretended not to hear. She couldn’t imagine the shame Kamikaze felt having to be helped with everything. Crimson started to open her muzzle, probably for a wisecrack, but Limestone reached a hoof over her muzzle before she could.

“I’ll watch your backside, Pinkie,” Solar offered, perhaps trying to politely change the subject, then ducked slightly when Maud peered at her.

“Pinkie only has eyes for her sisters and the pegacorn,” said Pinkie. “Yes.”

Twilight decided it was best not to comment on that. If she were anything like Twilight’s Pinkie, she would only flirt more if somepony responded, like a shark tasting blood. Thankfully Limestone motioned for them to quieten.

Limestone turned to Starlight. “Empress, a bubble of silence would reduce the chance of disturbing the trotting dead.”

“Easy enough,” Starlight nodded.

“And me?” Twilight asked quietly, feeling even more useless at being the last one ordered.

“I would leave you out here, because you won’t react well to feral foals either,” said Limestone. “But you probably want to go to the library, so just try to stay calm.”

“You’re impressively perceptive,” Twilight admitted. “I’ll do my best.”

Maud led as they entered, Limestone taking up the rear in case anything came from behind. Crimson stayed behind Maud, eager to see heads get smashed, with Twilight and Starlight in the middle. Starlight kept a bubble of silence around them, as well as lighting her horn barely enough so they didn’t trip.

As soon as Twilight entered, she paused in shock, looking up at a huge painting in the foyer. In her school days, the painting had been of Celestia standing, wings outstretched, with the Sun behind her. The image of Celestia looking benevolently down upon them comforted her every time she entered.

A new painting replaced it. The painting in its place displayed a creature that looked vaguely like Celestia, but flames replaced her soothing colorful mane and tail. She wore a fiery orange set of armor with a Sun emblazoned on the chest piece as she stared down on them with determination on her face.

This ‘Daybreaker’ looked more like a tyrant than a protector. The painting was worn, ripped, and splattered with dried blood, making her more intimidating. Celestia was the last pony Twilight would expect to let things get to her, yet there she was, twisted into something like that. If even she couldn’t hold on to herself in this world, could Twilight?

“Twilight?” Starlight asked.

“Sorry,” Twilight realized she had stopped and moved forward.

“If you’re freaking out, get back to the wagon,” said Limestone. Though her years of solitude made her nicer, empathy still wasn't her strong point.

“I’ll be fine,” Twilight said, unsure if she was lying.

The path was more obvious inside where weather had never disturbed it, myriad hoofprints leading in and out. They were all the same hoofprint, as if a single pony walked this path a lot.

Most of the other ‘art’ on the cracked walls were propaganda posters. One showed Sombra’s glowing eyes above a dark battalion of crystal ponies in frightful armor. It stated ‘Their Souls are Lost’ at the top and ‘We show them Mercy by showing them Death’ at the bottom.

“Was there no way to reverse Sombra’s control?” asked Twilight. That didn’t seem right at all.

“Of course there was,” Crimson rolled her eyes.

“Crimson,” Starlight warned.

“We told the soldiers there was no cure so they wouldn’t hesitate to use lethal force against possessed innocents,” Crimson ignored the warning. “We planned to 'invent' the cure after the war ended to save any that remained.”

“Can I break her now, Empress?” asked Maud, perhaps with a spot of hope in her voice.

“No,” Starlight sighed, eyeing Twilight then looking back to Crimson. “Crimson, if you want to travel with us, I expect you to act as you did before, and okay any release of information with me.”

Starlight didn’t trust Twilight yet if her first instinct was to hide things, and it definitely hurt Twilight's trust for her. Twilight wondered how Starlight might do things were Twilight not there, but this wasn’t the time to be confrontational.

“I see,” Twilight sighed, “Thanks for being honest, Crimson, even if for the wrong reason. Did you know, Maud? Limestone?”

“I did not,” answered Maud. “But it does not bother me. Though regretful, an enemy soldier is an enemy soldier regardless of the reason.”

“I suspected,” Limestone said. “But we were in the south. Our battles weren’t with the Crystal Empire. Still, we killed plenty of soldiers that believed they were doing the right thing because they’d been lied to, so it wasn’t much different.”

“Well at least I bothered one pony,” Crimson said. “But it was my second-favorite of you, so I don’t know how to feel.”

“Starlight?” Twilight asked. “I know a lot of these things are painful in hindsight, but it’s important to know the details and for ponies to know that you’re being transparent.”

“That’s a good point,” Crimson said. “If we’re transparent about things that no longer matter, as if turning over a new leaf, then ponies will believe us more when we lie in other ways.”

“Hm,” Starlight considered the idea.

“Not what I meant,” said Twilight between clenched teeth.

“Hold,” Maud said, stopping the line. “The hoof prints split here.”

In the dim light, the two paths looked equally trod, but Twilight didn’t have Maud’s eyes. One headed straight down the hallway toward the classrooms, while the others went upstairs, likely to the library. It’d be nice if the path took them there.

“The most recent ones go upstairs,” Maud said, peering down as Starlight lit the floor. “There’s damage to the stairs and floor as if they dragged things upstairs from the hallway path.”

Maud’s skill was impressive. Twilight’s Pinkie had mentioned Maud’s skill at finding things, so she supposed that would transfer to tracking.

“The basement where the students would have hidden is down the stairs here,” Starlight said. “Odd. We haven’t come across any bodies or ghouls. Maybe the docile one cleared them out?”

“I feel robbed,” said Crimson. “I haven’t gotten to see Maud kill anything up close.”

“I could kill you up close if that would help,” Maud suggested.

“No time for flirting, killer,” Crimson smiled unsarcastically.

They headed upstairs where Twilight hoped they’d run out of disturbing things to talk about but knew they wouldn’t. At least it led them to where she’d hoped: the library. The inside was well-lit because much of the ceiling had crumbled.

It was obvious somepony did a lot of work rearranging things. Several tables propped up large chalkboards, dragged in from the classrooms. Other tables held lab equipment from the school or complicated mechanical contraptions, a few of which looked similar to equipment to measure brainwaves, like Twilight used on her Pinkie a few times with no success. Still others were piled with books and scribbled parchment.

Maud and Limestone walked about the perimeter to make sure it was safe, but Twilight couldn’t wait to check out the research. Equations filled much of the chalkboards, using bits of decayed stone as chalk. Twilight understood some alchemy equations, but there were other equations and symbols she didn’t recognize at all.

Twilight looked over the many textbooks, finding books on necromancy, dark magic, and other things that weren't allowed here in her timeline. What desperation made them resort to all this? There were also books on cybernetics, magitech, and things she’d never realized existed until recently. A book on energy shields was opened to a page with a diagram of Canterlot’s energy shield.

The only other book open was none of that though. A book of nursery rhymes lay in front of a chair at one table. Even 200 years later, the filly must have missed being a normal foal.

“These equations are for balefire, pink cloud, and some impressively advanced necromancy,” Starlight mused as she looked over the chalkboard. “Alchemy too. They've even managed to solve some equations that we hadn't yet back then. If I had to guess, I’d say somepony is trying to figure out how to reverse the effects that made them a ghoul.”

“There are records of experiments here,” Twilight flipped through some parchment. “Attempts to communicate with ferals… invasive brain surgery on ferals. It doesn’t look like they had much success.”

“I don’t think there’s any way to do what they want,” Starlight sighed. “It’d be like trying to revert a pile of ashes back into a tree.”

“They didn’t stop trying,” chuckled Crimson. “Whoever it is, they get points for persistence. And sweet unmerciful Daybreaker, Kamikaze will love this.”

Twilight glanced over to see that Crimson had found another dirty magazine tucked between books on a toppled shelf. It had the name ‘Wingboner’ and had Kamikaze of all ponies on the front. She had a real left front leg in the image, one more limb than when Twilight met her. Twilight wondered if it was from before Kamikaze joined Midnight. It was too bad that Kamikaze wouldn’t be in the mood to enjoy it.

“Your ministries did a lot of interesting things to fund your research,” commented Twilight.

“Yeah, we really did,” Starlight chuckled awkwardly, and Twilight had to wonder if Starlight was on a cover somewhere too.

“They didn’t make enough lesbian issues of these,” complained Crimson. “Damn horny breeders flooding the market with stallion porn.”

Twilight didn’t care about that, but seeing the image brought something else to mind: Kamikaze’s cybernetics.

“How did you get this advanced?” Twilight asked. “In my timeline, we aren’t even close to the knowledge to make mega-spells, advanced cybernetics, or huge energy reactors.”

“Most of it came from the ruins of Neon City in the Forbidden Jungle, south of the badlands.” Starlight said. “An ancient alicorn civilization.”

“What civilization?” Twilight stared.

“AK Yearling discovered them,” Crimson said. “She was the Minister of Forgotten Knowledge, but pretty gullible. She helped get me my job at the Ministry, in fact.”

“Okay… “ Twilight said. “But why were they able to get inside the ruins in this timeline and not in mine?”

“She wouldn’t have found a way in if not for some of mine and Applejack’s early magitech research,” Starlight said. “Good thing Applejack didn’t get an apple farming mark like the rest of her family; I don’t think I’d have figured it out without her input. But once we found those ruins, knowledge skyrocketed. The ruins had huge ancient databases of information frozen in temporal fields, preserved after thousands of years. And not just magitech advancements; we learned ancient history that was a mystery before, like where the Sun came from.”

“The Sun?” Twilight blinked. That was a mystery she often pondered. Celestia moved the Sun, and other unicorns moved it before her, but somepony had to have created the Sun. The question was, how could life exist before its creation for someone to have created it? “Where did it come from?”

“Here’s a book for you,” Crimson smirked, pulling a book off one of the library shelves and floating it over to Twilight.

Twilight glared at Crimson when she realized it was a foal’s picture book, but all the same, it had the answer she wanted. She opened it and flipped through it, scanning the pages. According to the book, their world once orbited a natural star. After a cataclysm caused it to escape the star’s orbit and sling off its old moon, a powerful alicorn named Faust created their current Sun and Moon through advanced magitech. She programmed them to respond to certain frequencies unicorn horns could generate.

Though it fascinated Twilight, it also made her heart sink. They were teleporting plasma from the Sun to destroy cities, what effect would it have? Could its misuse have caused the current condition of the Sun? If it was, Twilight could think of no way to reverse it.

“Some more advanced books aren’t from this library,” Starlight commented. “Some of these are from my library, from the tower I lived in when I was in Canterlot as Daybreaker’s student.”

“So many books I want to take with me,” sighed Twilight. “But I know we can’t add too much weight to the supplies.”

“I could put them in my book,” commented Crimson.

“What’s that?” Twilight arched an eyebrow.

“With my method,” Crimson pulled a thick book out of her saddle bag. It looked like the most average red book Twilight had ever seen, but somehow that felt like a trap. “I can put anything into a book given the time, even other books, but I doubt we’ll have much time, so pick out the best dozen or two.”

“So, you could carry all our supplies in that book?” Twilight asked.

“I could,” Crimson laughed. “I’m sure the Empress is dying to give me all her supplies so I can put them in a book where only I can access them.”

“You’ve gotten better if you could carry all of it,” commented Starlight. “But you’re right, we’re not doing that. And as much as I’d like books to read, I don’t think I’m ready to let you out of the horn restraint.”

“You can put it back on,” Crimson rolled her eyes. “You can monitor me while it’s off, 200 years of practice doesn’t give me more raw power than you.”

“Fair enough,” said Starlight.

“I appreciate it, Crimson,” Twilight smiled.

“Even sociopaths have moments of weakness,” chuckled Crimson.

Twilight hoped Crimson wanted to help, but Crimson could also want to use the books as a bargaining chip later. Either way, it’d be a good show of faith to trust her.

“With respect, Empress,” Limestone spoke as Starlight was still looking over the chalk boards with interest. “This is not a research trip. We should head back outside now that we’ve confirmed the ghoul is docile.”

“Of course,” Starlight nodded, turning to Twilight. “Take a few minutes, very few, to grab books.” She sighed. “With any luck, we can retrieve the others later.”

Twilight nodded, heading to the shelves. She didn’t feel right taking the books that were in use and didn’t want to learn about dark magic and balefire, anyway. Instead, she chose a book on recent history and a more advanced one on the Sun, hoping to figure out why it looked broken. She found a ten-volume set that covered basic to advanced magitech and a book on channeling magic with a broken horn.

It’d take Crimson longer than a few minutes to put all that inside her own book, so they carried the books out with them so Crimson could do it in the wagon.

‘Pinkie contacts you with an update!’ Pinkie’s voice came over the PCB as Twilight packed the books into her saddle bag. ‘Yes.’

Twilight jumped. She didn’t know how one could think loudly, but apparently Pinkie could.

‘What update?’ Starlight asked.

‘The tiny ghoul has arrived,’ Pinkie informed. ‘She is not attacking but is suspiciously cute for a corpse. Pinkie rates her threat level 7.5 out of 10. Yes. Also, our alchemist may be having a meltdown.’

‘On our way,’ Starlight said, then added aloud. “Thank Break Pinkie didn’t shoot her.”

The group exited at a run.