Luna stood over Sombra's remains, gazing at his agony-distorted features, though her gaze seemed to pass right through him, wandering somewhere far back in the past. She didn’t see the blood on her hooves, nor noticed the faint glimmers of fading magic around her. Her thoughts, like a gust of wind, raced toward old memories that made her heart stir—not with a chill of fear but with a warm, almost forgotten sense of peace. In that fleeting moment, everything became clear: the battle was over, but her true struggle had always been with herself.

“It’s good that you killed him,” she murmured, slowly pulling herself away from her thoughts. Her voice sounded detached, as if the words were coming from somewhere deep in her subconscious. “Because I might not have been able to. Not the old me.”

She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with cool air, feeling for the first time in a long time a lightness in her chest, unburdened by inner weight. She felt free, not only from the cage Sombra had built but also from the invisible chains that had bound her mind.

A bright ray seemed to pierce the darkness of her mind, and now she knew the answer to a question she hadn’t even asked herself. She found it in the eyes of a human, the one who had looked at her through those bars, in their brief silence, in that moment when the world seemed to dissolve. In those moments, she understood everything she needed to, and that realization became her new air, her new freedom.

Now, reflecting, Luna realized that all these years, she had been chasing illusions: the approval of ponies, the acceptance of her sister, her futile attempts to prove something to the world that had seemed so important. The craving for acceptance and fear of loneliness. And then there came one who truly understood her. The human. He saw her true self, peering into the dark corners of her soul, places she herself feared to recall. But he did not judge. He did not reject. He, so much like her, gazed into the depths of her being and stayed. And only when she thought she had found a kindred soul, he left.

Luna couldn’t understand this. Was he not lonely? Was he not seeking the same understanding? He sought eternity, but did he realize how lifeless it was, how full of solitude and regrets? And only now, standing alone among the ruins, Luna understood: she could never fully understand him, just as he couldn’t fully understand her. Every mind is inherently doomed to loneliness. Just as when they had silently watched each other through the bars—so close yet so far.

Now, she no longer needed the ponies' approval, nor their understanding. All the questions she had wanted to ask the human faded on their own. Their encounter, strange and brief, was but an echo of an eternal truth: each of them was merely a fleeting passerby in the other’s life.

Instead of bitterness and sadness, Luna felt a lightness, as if a great weight had fallen to the ground. Now she knew what to do. Now she was truly free.

But this moment was interrupted by a sudden burst of bright flame. Out of the fire stepped Celestia, her gaze fierce, and Luna was brought back to reality.

“The Tree is gone, the Crystal Heart too,” Celestia growled, her footsteps echoing through the hall. “That... that damnable fucking human has vanished too!”

An almost imperceptible smirk played across Luna’s lips as she averted her gaze.

“Why are you smirking?” Celestia seemed, for a moment, to be at a loss for words in her indignation. “That slippery bastard took everything, including Sombra’s memory! Do you understand what this means? Problems! And… weren’t you the one who wanted to capture him the most?”

“Was I?” Luna laughed, her laugh ringing out through the hall like a light breeze, breaking free after long years of confinement. “Was it something like that?”

Celestia looked at her with grim suspicion, studying her sister as if trying to decipher what was on her mind. But Luna only smiled back slightly, relaxed and at peace.

Celestia could only leave it at that, knowing her sister's nature.

“It doesn’t matter,” Celestia finally shook her head as if shaking off something from her shoulders. “The military will handle the rest. We can return to Canterlot and continue the search for Cadence. Problems keep piling up…”

A hint of guilt flickered in her eyes. She knew she should have been by Luna's side after her return, that her sister was her first priority, but the endless concerns for Equestria’s safety and for those she cared about consumed her time. She couldn’t ignore Equestria, the kingdom they had built together, nor forget Cadence, whom she had raised like a daughter.

Of course, if forced to choose, she would choose Luna, but each new threat required priorities, no matter what she felt. Sometimes it seemed the best decision would be to sever all ties, leave all affairs behind, and perhaps venture on a distant journey with Luna. After all, she hadn’t left the Central Continent in a thousand years… But Celestia understood these dreams would never come to pass. Everything she had created and loved bound her here with unbreakable ties.

In the midst of these thoughts, Luna unexpectedly extended her wings and softly embraced her sister, pressing her forehead to hers.

“It’s alright,” Luna whispered, her voice soft as a lullaby but filled with strength. “We’ll get through this together. Come on, let’s find the Elements and get out of here.”

Luna turned and, playfully tickling Celestia’s nose with her wing, caused an unexpected sneeze. Celestia frowned for a moment, then snorted, smiling, and followed after Luna.

Gathering the Elements, the alicorns ignited their horns, and in the next second, the entire group appeared outside the Crystal Empire.

A unicorn in light armor immediately approached, reporting on the current situation. While Celestia listened to his words, officers of the command gathered around her, each bringing urgent news. The Elements were promptly sent for medical examination to ensure no possible traces of corruption remained.

Finding out what had happened in their absence, Celestia began issuing clear instructions. Luna only half-listened to her, watching the Crystal Empire slowly freeing itself from the miasma. There was still much to be done—soldiers needed to clear the area of monsters, restore order, and capture the maddened crystal ponies. Perhaps they could still be saved.

The sisters observed the officers rushing back and forth, gathering their units and preparing them to return to the Empire. Here, at the very edge, there was a sense of tension and vigilance. The fog of unease hadn’t fully lifted, and every soldier felt as though they were stepping onto a newly charted path.

“Huh?” Luna suddenly pricked up her ears, turning eastward. “Someone’s approaching.”

Celestia followed her gaze, squinting into the distance. At first, there were only vague dots against the sky, but with each passing second, they grew closer and more distinct.

As the distance closed, it became clear they were griffons, flying in a streamlined formation, with one figure standing out at the front—a figure Celestia recognized instantly. Her expression hardened, her gaze turning icy.

Almost simultaneously, both alicorns felt a rhythmic trembling beneath them. In the distance, massive figures began to appear on the horizon.

Minotaurs, mounted on giant lizards, thundered towards them, leaving a rumbling wake as the ground shook from their approach, a sign that this meeting would be more than mere words.

The griffons landed a respectful distance away, close enough for their presence to be felt like a weight in the air. They numbered in the thousands—a restless sea of talons and feathers, their wings slightly flared, standing in silent, threatening stillness. Like a watchful predator, they waited, exuding a proud, almost tangible readiness.

One of the griffons stepped forward from the crowd, flanked by two larger guards, striding confidently toward the alicorns.

“Do you know him?” Luna whispered, watching as the approaching griffon kept his eyes fixed on Celestia.

“Jarl Einarr of the Stormwing Clan,” Celestia replied curtly, pursing her lips. “A battle-crazed maniac, sly as a fox, and… one of the chief contenders for the throne.”

Luna recalled that the title of “jarl” in griffon hierarchy was roughly equivalent to that of a duke. She shifted her gaze to Einarr, studying him closely.

The griffon’s appearance was rugged and intimidating—a warrior to his core, more resembling a mercenary than a would-be ruler. His dark feathers had a faint silver sheen, like metal tempered by fire, and his beak and eyes held a sharp, predatory glint, typical of those who lived on the edge of life and death. His powerful sixth-rank aura was almost palpable—he didn’t hide it; he displayed it, warning everyone around him of his might.

Celestia gave a barely noticeable signal to the troops. She and Luna moved toward the approaching griffons, accompanied by a unicorn commander, whose presence lent an air of formality to the encounter.

Both sides met on neutral ground, between two armies that were ready to charge at any moment.

“Princess Celestia, Princess Luna,” Einarr greeted them with cold politeness, inclining his head slightly. “I trust you’re well? A pleasure to see you.”

“Jarl Einarr,” Celestia replied with a strained smile, her gaze assessing. “I didn’t expect to find you here. I thought your internal affairs would keep you entirely occupied…”

The two griffons behind Einarr frowned. They were well aware that Equestria was not above meddling in others’ conflicts, especially civil wars, and such remarks felt like a provocation. Especially considering that Equestria was already intervening in their war.

“You mean the assassins you keep sending my way, Princess Celestia?” Einarr smirked, lowering his voice to a nearly friendly tone. “Thanks to you, I’m always in top form. How could I not appear here, knowing you’re here too? And with such an occasion—the return of the Crystal Empire…”

“Are you accusing me of something, Jarl Einarr?” Celestia narrowed her eyes, keeping her composure. “That’s a serious claim. Do you have proof?”

“I merely mentioned it in passing,” the griffon chuckled, his laughter mocking. “Don’t take everything so personally, Princess.”

Meanwhile, the minotaur detachment arrived among the griffons, seamlessly joining their ranks. The towering figures of the heavily armed minotaurs on their giant lizards added a massive, grim presence to the scene. The hooves and claws of the beasts sank into the ground, the vibrations of their movement palpable even at a considerable distance. Now, the armies had merged into one formidable mass, standing menacingly opposite the forces of Equestria.

“Well, Jarl,” Celestia said, shifting her gaze to Einarr, barely concealing the chill in her eyes. “Might I know the purpose of your visit? The Crystal Empire is a vassal of Equestria. I would ask that you withdraw your forces.”

“Vassal?” Einarr scratched his neck mockingly, as though sincerely trying to remember. “I don’t recall that being formalized. As for our purpose… How do you say it in Equestria? We simply came… to claim our piece of the cake.”

Celestia’s brow furrowed, and her gaze instantly grew heavier. She understood not to take his words as a simple joke.

“Vassal or not—it matters to no one,” Einarr drawled lazily, though a bloodthirsty gleam flashed in his eyes. “Everyone knows that, in the end, only one thing matters. So why not settle this between us?”

He grinned predatorily, and the two griffons, sensing the mood, began to cautiously step back.

“Jarl Einarr,” Celestia said softly, forcing a taut smile. “It seems you’re not quite…”

She paused, catching a scent—a metallic hint of ozone, as if a storm had just passed. Electric sparks flickered over the griffon’s body, and the unicorn commander nearby felt his armor begin to pull toward Einarr as though he were a living magnet.

In the next moment, the alicorns’ eyes widened: Einarr’s aura suddenly surged to the seventh rank.

A lifeless fog crept across the gray, sullen ground, and the forest seemed frozen in eternal mourning. Bare trees, twisted and dry, reached toward the sky like mangled hands in a final cry of despair. No grass, no greenery—only dead, ominous silence surrounded any reckless soul daring to enter this forsaken place. The sky was shrouded in gray clouds, with only a faint light piercing through, casting eerie shadows that made the forest seem even more ghostly.

In this deathly silence, a man in black clothing walked cautiously between the trees. He moved slowly, as if searching for something among the dark trunks. His gaze scanned each tree, each dry branch, each empty shadow, as though something important, almost intangible, lay hidden in the dead forest.

The crack of a dry branch sounded under his foot, and he instinctively looked down. In the same instant, something long and transparent flickered in his field of vision, darting toward his head.

Alexei reacted instantly: he extended a tendril, simultaneously jerking his head to the side. Despite the lightning-fast movement, the transparent stinger barely missed its mark, piercing the tendril and catching his hair.

Another tendril lashed out at the translucent figure lurking on a branch above. The creature screeched, its silhouette trembling like a mirage, but the tendril had already wrapped around its prey, preventing it from escaping. The figure froze, revealing the true form of the monster—a giant spider, the size of a large dog. It let out a final, pitiful screech but could no longer break free from the hold.

The spider seemed like a nightmare incarnate, and its horrifying appearance only emphasized this. Its body, covered in gray-green scales, was dotted with sharp spikes, and a long stinger protruded from its mouth like a flexible dagger, ready to pierce any careless target. The spider's eyes were nearly invisible, camouflaged by glistening crystals that absorbed light, making the creature almost imperceptible. Its legs, sharp and curved, swayed slightly, poised to strike at any moment.

These creatures possessed a unique ability to become invisible, hiding in the treetops as if dissolving into the darkness, waiting for someone to pass beneath. When the prey was within reach, the spiders would extend their long stinger, which, like a giant straw, would pierce straight into the victim’s head, consuming the brain while the target was still alive.

Alexei had recently found himself in this strange layer of the Depths and had been wandering here for several hours, encountering various species of spiders along the way.

The invisible predators were the least dangerous among them—there was a region veiled in dense layers of webbing where each step was filled with an unbearable sense of dread. With a strong sense of foreboding, he had backed out of that area without hesitation.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Alexei muttered thoughtfully, tossing the screeching spider into his chalice.

He probed the nearby trees with his tendrils, making sure there were no more threats, and stepped inside the chalice’s interior. There, dozens of spiders were waiting for him, crammed into the three cages he’d brought from Sombra’s lab. As soon as Alexei entered, his ears were filled with a deafening screech. The spiders shrieked, their nauseating sounds grating on his nerves and chilling him to the bone.

Grimacing, Alexei let out his own low, terrifying screech, and a few spiders immediately fell from the bars while the others backed away into the corners of the cage.

“That’s better,” he nodded with satisfaction, throwing in the last captured spider and closing the cage.

Momentarily forgetting the irritating shrieking creatures, Alexei approached the cauldron standing on the floor and, grabbing some firewood, began to make a fire.

Focusing, he created a grayish flame in his palm. The flame flickered, as if an illusion, but it was hot enough to ignite the firewood. Soon, a fire was blazing under the cauldron, and Alexei, pausing for a moment, looked at the cauldron, smirking; Sombra would hardly appreciate his high-grade creation being used as an ordinary cooking pot.

But Alexei had no other cookware, and he had grown tired of dried meat and various raw morsels on this journey. He craved simple, normal food—something that could fill an inner emptiness, not physical but rather spiritual. Since the beginning of Chrysalis’s invasion and all the way to the Crystal Empire, he hadn’t had a chance to eat properly.

With a sigh, Alexei looked at his palm, where the gray flame had flickered moments before—there was still a hint of disappointment in it. The simple spell he used was called “Produce Flame,” and this version was his personal modification. But the result was still faint, illusory, and far from a typical fire.

At one point, Alexei had become interested in nightmares, fascinated by their ability to use unicorn spells by replacing magical energy with pure mental energy. And now, Alexei could do the same: modifying spell formulas, he used his own mental energy, infused with shades of his essence. He’d adapted a few of the simplest spells, accessible even to foals, and though they worked, the results disappointed him.

Such spells required one and a half to twice as much energy and were about a third weaker than those of unicorns. Most frustrating of all, they reflected his own deceit attribute: the flame became illusory and gray, insubstantial, lacking the true qualities of fire.

"In short, complete garbage," Alexei muttered in irritation, brushing these thoughts aside.

Even though he could use unicorn spells, they remained useless in combat—expensive and ineffective. They might be handy for everyday tasks, but for real battles, they were too weak. All he could do was hope that his new talent, the attribute of deceit, would become more useful. For now... he had to press forward, relying on his patience.

By mastering their attribute to a certain level, beings could use it to mimic the effects of other forms of magic. This path expanded the boundaries of possibility, allowing skills characteristic of entirely different types of magic to be embodied.

For example, Fluttershy, a pegasus, wielded wind magic, yet despite her youth, she mastered healing spells, mimicking them through her attribute. She couldn’t even be called a genius—more of a monster. And Alexei aspired to that same level of mastery.

While the soup cooked, he had time to work on his experiments. He took a spider from the cage, tore off a small piece from his tendril, and infused it with a stream of gray smoke. Holding the spider tightly, Alexei allowed the tendril to slowly, like a snake, penetrate the creature's mouth until it ceased resisting. With a mere thought, the thin tendrils within the spider began to spread, transforming into countless fine threads, which, like fungal mycelium, wove through the creature’s insides, spreading throughout its body.

After a couple of minutes, with a light flick of his finger, like the wave of a conductor’s baton, Alexei made the spider take a few unsteady steps. The creature’s consciousness still flickered like the dim light of a candle, but its body responded to his every signal as long as he remained nearby.

Reaching for the table, he picked up a stack of written pages. Crooked symbols and diagrams, interspersed with complex schematics and calculations, covered the pages, resembling a mix of abstract art and mathematics.

In the few days that had passed on Equus, he had already experienced two weeks in the Depths, where time flowed much faster. He was now moving between worlds in a particular rhythm: a day in the Depths, then a few hours on Equus to recover from the effects of assimilation. Most of his time he spent in the space of the chalice, pondering and developing a meditation technique intended to expand his control over his attribute and stabilize his core. Finally, his idea had taken shape, and it was time for the first basic tests.

At first, he planned to test the technique on rats, but the Depths’ inhabitants proved to be more suitable subjects. Like him, they lacked a soul. Of course, neither the rats nor the creatures of the Depths could replace tests on sentient beings—after all, they were vastly different from each other.

Sentient beings required meditation and growth to steadily increase their rank; their cores demanded constant refinement. The animals of Equus and creatures of the Depths needed none of this—their cores were stable from birth, and they could rank up simply through the process of living.

However, spider trials were enough to reveal gross errors.

The spider, now under full control, sat down on the ground, closed its eyes, and a faint halo of gray smoke began to form around its head. The smoke wavered like a ghostly mirage, at times blending with the shadows, at others taking on dense outlines. It seemed like an illusion—a translucent cloud reflecting shadows—yet, like a living fabric, it absorbed light and vibrations.

Suddenly, the space around him filled with powerful vibrations, and in the next instant, the spider's head exploded, scattering flesh and bits of gray liquid. The viscous remains of its brain, gray and damp, splattered in all directions, leaving black streaks on the ground, while shards of chitin scattered, leaving the spot where the spider had been empty and charred.

Alexei sighed heavily, wiping his face—this was already the fifteenth failure.

Author's Note

Einarr

People are always asking me if I know Tyler... Ahem.

Actually, people often ask if I’m planning to set up an account on Patreon or similar platforms. They say they’d love to support the story, but it’s taught them to look for some perks. They want early access to chapters, special bonuses, and for everything to fall into place with just one button click. "Author, make it happen!"

Well, I’ve heard your requests. It’s coming soon.