Stay Tuned

Seven long and somewhat peaceful years had passed since the Radio Demon, Alastor, was sealed away in the depths of Tartarus. In the aftermath, The Six Pillars had defected from Celestia's command, choosing to remain neutral in the cosmic struggle between the high heavens and deepest hells.

As guardians of Equestria, they protected the delicate balance rather than taking sides. Meanwhile, Stygian Nessus, former apprentice of Star Swirl, left the Pillars behind and moved to San Franciscolt with his adoptive daughter, Squeaky Clean. Once a vicious companion of the feared Radio Demon, she now had a much more docile demeanor... except for her tendency to brutally kill insects with a sewing needle or cooking knife. Stygian also noticed an obsessive need to keep their home immaculately clean.

While the Pillars made a name for themselves by independently protecting Equestria, Stygian found comfort in the simple rhythms of San Franciscolt - the clattering of cart wheels over cobblestone streets, murmurs of gossip at market stalls, and steady scratching of quills on parchment as he taught at the town's schoolhouse. He was well-respected and his teachings were imbued with wisdom from a life that had experienced both the darkest depths and highest peaks of magic and power.

Under the watchful eye of Stygian, Squeaky Clean grew into an odd filly – her quirks endearing to some and a mystery to others. Her obsession with cleanliness bordered on the compulsive; every book in their home was arranged with precise alignment, every surface was polished to a mirror-like shine. Stygian often wondered if her need for order stemmed from the chaotic world they had left behind – a way for her to have control over at least one aspect of their new, more mundane lives.

As she entered Stygian's study, Squeaky spoke in her usual soft tone, "Father, I've prepared dinner. And I've made sure everything is...in order." Her voice trailed off, hinting at the effort it took to maintain such strict control over their surroundings.

Stygian carefully placed his quill back into its inkwell and closed his tome before turning to face his daughter. She wore a simple cotton dress in a gentle shade of blue, the fabric crisp and neatly pressed. A white apron with multiple pockets covered her front – most likely used as protection while she worked around the house.

"I'll join you shortly, Squeaky," Stygian replied as he returned to his desk.

Squeaky nodded and quickly scanned the room for any sign of disorder before exiting on her hooves. Stygian watched her go before returning his attention to the scattered papers on his desk. They were essays written by students, the pages filled with looping handwriting that reflected young minds still learning the art of writing with a quill. As he sat in silence, Stygian appreciated these rare moments of solitude – they were precious and few.

As he slowly rose from his plush armchair, his aged gaze lingered on a worn leather-bound journal tucked away in one of the desk's secret compartments. It was a relic of his past life, filled with intricate notes and diagrams on spells and incantations that no pony in San Franciscolt had any need or desire to learn. For a moment, he reached for it, his hand hovering over the dusty tome before hesitating. That part of his world was behind him now. He shut the compartment firmly and turned towards the dining room.

The mahogany table was set with wooden cups and spoons, a warm and inviting sight after a long day of studying in his private study. His daughter, Squeaky Clean, stood by the stove, stirring a large pot of stew that sent delicious aromas wafting through the air. As Stygian took his seat, his daughter brought him a steaming bowl of stew, her bright blue eyes sparkling with pride.

"Is this the Stew I taught you last week?" Stygian asked with a raised eyebrow.

Squeaky Clean nodded eagerly, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Yes, Father. But I added some fresh herbs from the garden to enhance the flavor."

Just as Stygian was about to take his first bite, there was a sudden knock at the door. “I’ll get it”

With a sigh, he set down his spoon and stood up to answer it. Perhaps it was just a neighbor seeking some late-night advice on magic or potions.

However, when he opened the door, he was met with an unexpected sight. Standing before him was Star Swirl the Bearded - his former master and friend. Time had etched deep lines of wisdom and hardship into the ancient wizard's face, but his piercing blue eyes still held the same intensity they always had.

"Star Swirl?" Stygian blinked in surprise.

“Hello, Stygian my boy," Star Swirl greeted with a warm smile. “How fares you this evening?"

“We were just about to have dinner, Sir," Stygian responded, still taken aback by the unexpected visit. “Would you like to join us?"

“Stygian, You are no longer my apprentice," Star Swirl said with a wistful chuckle, the sound rich with memories of their time together. “You no longer have a need to address me as 'Sir'."

Squeaky Clean's face lit up at the sight of her old mentor, and she dashed forward to give him a tight hug. "Uncle Beardo!" she exclaimed, using a nickname only known between the two of them.

In return, Star Swirl enveloped Squeaky in his arms, laughing warmly as he ruffled her mane like he used to do when she was just a filly. "My dear, how you've grown!"

As they released each other, Squeaky couldn't help but beam up at him with adoration. But her excitement was quickly tempered by Stygian's serious words. "Come in, Uncle Beardo. You must be tired from your journey."

The elder unicorn hesitated for a moment before responding, his voice carrying a hint of urgency beneath the warmth. "I'm afraid I can't stay long, little one. I'm here on a matter of great importance."

With that, Stygian stepped aside and allowed Star Swirl to enter their home. "Squeaky, why don't you start dinner without me?"

Squeaky Clean's eyes darted between her father and their famous guest, sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere. "But Father," she protested softly, "we rarely have company—"

"Go ahead, dear," Stygian interrupted gently, giving her a reassuring glance that conveyed an unspoken message. With a reluctant nod, Squeaky obeyed and retreated to the dining room.

As they were left alone, Stygian's brow furrowed in concern. "I take it this isn't just a social visit?"

"I'm afraid not, Stygian," the wizard replied, his gaze lingering on Squeaky's retreating form. The girl's small frame and innocent expression seemed to tug at his heartstrings. "How is she faring?"

"She still has no memory, just like the last time you checked on her. All she remembers is that her parents died and her name," Stygian informed his old teacher with a tinge of worry. "But aside from her obsessive need to clean and kill insects, she seems perfectly normal...except..."

"Except?" Star Swirl prompted, his curiosity piqued.

Stygian leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. "It's been seven years...and she hasn't aged. Even now, after seven years, she still looks like an eight-year-old."

Star Swirl's expression turned serious, his mind whirring with various thoughts. He stroked his long beard in a contemplative manner, a gesture he always did when deeply pondering something. "It could be...this is just a hypothesis," he whispered, glancing suspiciously towards the dining room where Squeaky Clean had gone. "There's a chance that the Demon still has hold over her...According to all records of Alastor, his companion Niffty has been by his side for over three centuries since he first appeared in this world...It's possible that she still possesses the Demon's Immortality."

Stygian's eyes widened in alarm at Star Swirl's hypothesis. "Immortality? But...how is that possible? She's just a filly!"

Star Swirl held up a hand, his gaze turning solemn. "Niffty may have appeared as a child, but we both know demonic entities are not bound by the same rules as mortal beings. If even a fragment of her true nature remains, it could manifest in unusual ways."

Stygian's head was throbbing as he sank into a nearby chair, the weight of this revelation bearing down on him like a heavy cloak. His mind raced with thoughts and fears at the possibility of his dear daughter being cursed with eternal youth. The thought of her never growing old or experiencing the joys and challenges of life was too much to bear. His voice trailed off, unable to voice his deepest worries.

The elder unicorn, Star Swirl, placed a comforting hand on Stygian's shoulder. "We cannot be certain yet," he said in a calming tone. "But we will find our answer in time." His wise eyes studied Stygian's weary features, the dark circles beneath his eyes betraying many sleepless nights. "And how are you holding up in all of this? Caring for the child cannot be easy, especially with so much uncertainty surrounding her condition."

Stygian managed a weak smile, grateful for his mentor's concern. "It has had its challenges," he admitted. "But she brings me more joy than hardship. To see her innocent smile and her determination to create order amidst chaos...it reminds me of why we fought so hard that day." He glanced towards the dining room, where the sounds of Meadowlark humming a tuneless melody could be heard. "As long as she is happy and safe, I can endure any trial."

Star Swirl gave Stygian's shoulder a gentle squeeze, conveying understanding and compassion. "You have become a remarkable pony, Stygian. Your parents would be proud." He straightened himself, urgency returning to his tone. "I must leave now, but before I go, there is something I need your help with."

Stygian stood up, his resolve strengthening at the request. "Anything, Star Swirl. Just name it."

"We have been receiving reports of Timberwolves attacking a newly formed village outside the borders of the Everfree Forest," Star Swirl explained. "The other Pillars and I would greatly appreciate any information you could provide us with on these creatures."

A voice called out from the grand dining room, interrupting Stygian's thoughts. "Father? Are you coming? Dinner is growing cold!"

Stygian's mind raced as he quickly responded, "I'm coming. I heard the same news as you. You'll find everything I know in my study."

He motioned towards a door on the left-hand side of the corridor, his dark cloak swishing behind him as he spoke. "The top shelf, behind the treatise on Equestrian Flora. There's a scroll bound in green leather; it contains all my recent findings and speculations about Timberwolves. I believe you'll find what you need there."

Star Swirl nodded his gratitude, his long, flowing cloak billowing around him as he prepared to depart. "Your work has always been thorough; I have no doubt it will prove invaluable."

Stygian watched his former master enter his study before muttering to himself, "And the pillars are apparently too busy to research the creatures themselves."

After Star Swirl thanked him and left, Stygian joined his daughter at the dinner table. The room was quiet as they ate in silence.

A voice whispered in Stygian's ear, its words dripping with disdain. "They don't need you...they believe you are nothing more than a fool they can leech from. They do not give you the credit you deserve."

Stygian's response was barely audible, almost lost among the clinking of silverware and distant chatter. "Yes...yes they do," he murmured to himself.

"Really now?" The voice scoffed with heavy sarcasm. "Ponies recognize Star Swirl the Bearded, Rockhoof the Mighty, Mistmane the Graceful, Flash Magnus the Brave, Somnambula the Wise, and even Mage Meadowbrook the Healer. But what about you? No pony has ever heard of Stygian Nessus the lowly scribe. The pillars leave you out, they steal all the attention you could have if they just once mentioned that it was you who researched every creature and monster they have ever faced. They. Are. Using. You. Stygian Nessus."

Stygian squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the insidious whispers that clawed at the edges of his mind. His hand trembled as he lifted the spoon halfway to his mouth, only to set it down with deliberate slowness onto the bowl. The thunk of wood against wood seemed to shatter the illusion of normalcy that dinner had held.

Squeaky Clean looked up from her bowl, her wide-eyed gaze filled with a child-like innocence that belied the otherworldly nature Star Swirl had suggested. She was like a porcelain doll come to life, her perfect features and delicate frame giving off an ethereal aura.

"Father?" she asked timidly, sensing the sudden tension in the air. "Is something wrong?"

Stygian forced a smile, his lips quivering slightly. He reached across the table to gently pat her tiny hand, feeling a sense of guilt wash over him for involving her in his dark world. "No, my dear," he lied smoothly, his words coated in honey and deception. "Just tired from all the studying." His heart twisted at the thought of Squeaky Clean being tainted by his inner demons.

Stygian opened the doors to his study, their creaking hinges echoing through the large room. He hastily excused himself from his guests, eager to escape the strange whispers that seemed to fill his head.

Running a hand over his face, he paced back and forth before finally sinking into the worn leather of his chair. The deep furrows on his brow relaxed slightly as he tried to push aside the unsettling thoughts that plagued him.

The silence of the study enveloped him, broken only by the soft crackling of logs in the fireplace. The walls were lined with shelves upon shelves of books and scrolls, each one a testament to Stygian's unquenchable thirst for knowledge and understanding. They were also a silent reminder of his role as the scribe for Star Swirl and the Pillars.

His gaze fell upon a particular green leather-bound scroll, containing intricate details about Timberwolf behavior and weaknesses. It was a crowning achievement in his research, yet it brought little satisfaction. A bitter pang shot through him as he remembered that his hard work would never be recognized by the others. The voice in his head had been right about that much.

"Stygian Nessus, the lowly scribe..." he muttered bitterly, his voice laced with resentment. "I was Star Swirl's one and only student, and I played a crucial role in helping the Pillars defeat our enemies."

“Indeed…” a sinister whisper echoed mockingly. “But when was the last time any of them truly thanked you for your efforts? Did they even acknowledge you once?”

Stygian's grip on the armrests tightened until his knuckles turned white. He knew the answer all too well - his contributions were often overlooked or overshadowed by the grandeur of the Pillars' accomplishments. He was reduced to nothing more than a footnote in their history, if he was even mentioned at all.

The weight of Stygian's thoughts pressed heavily upon him as he sat in his study, surrounded by towering shelves of books and scrolls. His mind replayed the words that had been spoken to him, each one like a dagger stabbing at his heart. "Not once have they ever thanked me," he muttered, a realization dawning on him. "I'm bent over backwards for them and not once have they thanked me. Not once have they looked at me and seen an equal."

“It’s because they don’t,” the voice cackled, its tone dripping with malice. “All you are to them…is insignificant.”

Stygian's jaw clenched as he pushed himself up from his chair, his heart hammering against his ribcage. The voice was cruel, yet its words cut through him with the precision of a scalpel, laying bare the insecurities that he had long struggled to keep at bay. His study, once a sanctuary of wisdom and discovery, now felt like a prison—a place where his unseen and unrecognized efforts were chained to the shelves.

"No," Stygian whispered fiercely, refusing to accept the harsh truth being thrust upon him.

Suddenly, as if summoned by his inner turmoil, the doors to his study swung open and Squeaky walked in. Her bright blue eyes widened in concern when she saw her father's distressed state.

“Father?” she called out, her small voice breaking through the tense silence. “What’s wrong? You left in the middle of eating.”

“I…I…” Stygian stammered, feeling disoriented as the voice fell silent within him. “I’m Sorry Squeaky, I think I’m not feeling too well.” He dropped down to one knee and pulled her into a tight embrace.

Squeaky wrapped her arms around her father's neck, hugging him back just as tightly. “Don't worry about dinner, Father,” she said softly. “You work so hard all the time. Maybe you just need some rest.”

Stygian held his daughter close for a moment longer, finding comfort in her embrace before gently releasing her and standing up. He offered her a weak smile, trying to reassure her despite the turmoil that churned within him. "Yes, perhaps you're right," he said with a nod. "I'll go to bed early tonight."

With a heavy heart, Stygian left the comforting walls of his study and trudged towards his room. Squeaky Clean followed closely behind, her eyes glued to her father's worried face. As they walked, she couldn't help but notice a dark presence looming near him, invisible to anyone else. It flickered and danced around him like a ghostly aura, at times clinging to him protectively, while other times seeming to mock or taunt. Squeaky couldn't comprehend what it was, but she knew it wasn't something she wanted around her father.

She mustered up the courage to confront him about this strange apparition multiple times, but each time the shadowy figure would simply place a finger over its lips in a hushing gesture, silencing her words before they could escape. The filly felt both fear and familiarity towards the entity, unable to explain why.

Squeaky was abruptly awoken by a loud crash and a scream. Her heart raced as she hurried down the hallway, following the sounds of distress. In the living room, she found Stygian trembling in the center of the room. His eyes were wild, filled with a mix of rage and despair as he looked at the scattered newspaper on the floor.

"Father?" Squeaky spoke softly, trying to ease her way into his turmoil. "What's happened?"

It took a moment for Stygian to register her presence, his focus fixed on the offending paper. When he finally spoke, his words were strained and forced. "They did it again. Took all the credit. Erased me from their story."

Squeaky cautiously approached, scanning through the pages until she saw what had upset her father. The headline boasted about another heroic feat of the legendary Pillars, but there was no mention of Stygian's name and his crucial contribution.

As she reached to pick up the scattered papers, something caught her eye. A dark figure hovered next to her father, twisting and shifting in an eerie manner that seemed to feed off his anguish.

"Please, Father," Squeaky pleaded, her voice shaking. "Don't let it affect you like this. You know the truth, and that's what matters."

Stygian's bitterness was etched into every line of his face, making it clear that he was beyond consolation. "The truth?" he spat bitterly. "I've given everything for them, time and time again, only to be cast aside like a useless tool."

As if in response, the shadowy figure seemed to expand, reaching out towards Stygian with dark tendrils as if to embrace him. A chill ran down Squeaky's spine, a sense of dread gripping her inexplicably.

"Yessss," the eerie voice hissed, its whispers slithering into Squeaky's mind without a discernible source. "He sees the truth now. They never valued you, Stygian. But I can give you the power to make them pay..."

Defeat weighed heavily on Stygian's shoulders, his features lined with resignation. "What other choice do I have?" he murmured, his voice hollow and empty.

"No!" Squeaky cried out desperately, driven by a fierce urge to protect her father. She flung herself at him, wrapping her hooves around his neck in a tight embrace. "Don't listen to it, Father! You're stronger than this!"

For a brief moment, the darkness retreated and Stygian shook himself out of his trance. His eyes focused on Squeaky, and a glimmer of warmth returned to them. "You're right, my dear," he said with a gentle but forced smile as he scooped her up in his arms. "Why don't we surprise 'Uncle Beardo' and the others? How does that sound?"

Squeaky's eyes sparkled with excitement and relief, grateful for the distraction and her father's return to his usual self. "Yes! They won't see it coming!" she exclaimed, holding onto him tightly as they schemed their little surprise.

Stygian used his magical abilities to summon one of his books from his study. With a nod and an incantation whispered under his breath, he enveloped himself and his daughter in a glowing aura before disappearing from the room, leaving behind the tattered newspaper and looming shadows.

"One more round!" Rockhoof hollered as he slammed his mug down on the table.

"Easy there, Rock. Let's not get carried away," Flash cautioned. "Today has been a good day, but let's not overdo it."

"I couldn't agree more," Mistmane chimed in. "May our victories continue for the sake of Equestria."

"If only Princess Celestia could join us and celebrate instead of being stuck at the castle," Meadowbrook sighed sadly.

"With all due respect," Star Swirl interrupted, slamming his mug down forcefully. "I'd rather not speak of that mare."

"Did you run into her again?" Somnambula asked the elder wizard curiously.

"I did," Star Swirl confirmed, downing his entire drink in one gulp. "She approached me on my way back from Stygian's and demanded we resume serving under the crown."

"And what did you say?" Somnambula prodded.

"I refused, and then she tried to have me arrested! Another!" Star Swirl exclaimed, pushing his empty mug away from him. "That mare is missing a few spells from her grimoire!"

"Speaking of our former ally," Somnambula said as Star Swirl signaled for another drink. "How is Stygian? And our little Squeaky?"

"He's not doing well," Star Swirl replied with concern evident in his voice. "And I can tell he hasn't been getting much sleep...I fear taking care of the demon's child may be too overwhelming for him."

"We all knew it would be a heavy burden for Stygian," Somnambula sympathized, taking a sip from her own drink. "Perhaps some of us could offer to help more often."

"What do you have in mind?" Star Swirl asked.

"I was thinking that one or two of us could take turns helping to watch Squeaky while Stygian takes a break," Somnambula suggested with newfound enthusiasm. "After all, we are Equestria's protectors; surely we can spare some time for our comrade."

Star Swirl pondered for a moment, swirling the contents of his new mug as Somnambula's suggestion lingered in the air. It seemed to soften the lines of concern etched on his face.

"An intriguing proposition," he eventually replied, a slight upward quirk appearing at the corner of his mouth. "Stygian has always been one to bear his burdens alone, but perhaps we should offer him more support."

Meadowbrook nodded in agreement. "He's done so much for each of us, it's only fair that we return the favor. And Squeaky is such a joy - I wouldn't mind spending more time with her."

“Agreed,” Star Swirl declared, setting down his mug. “If not for Stygian and his tireless research on every creature and monster we've faced, we surely would have perished long ago.”

As the Pillars settled into their newfound determination to help their old friend, the door to the tavern swung open with a creak. A hush fell over the rowdy patrons as a young filly burst through and ran towards the largest and strongest of the pillars.

“Uncle Rock!” she exclaimed with delight, latching onto his large arm.

“Well, would ya look at that,” Rockhoof chuckled as he raised his arm with Squeaky still clinging onto it. “Is that our little Squeaky holding onto me arm like a mighty limpet? And what brings ye here, lassie?" he boomed with a wide grin that illuminated his rugged face.

“Father and I came to surprise you all in celebration of your latest victory against the T...timbor...” Squeaky began, struggling to pronounce the creature's name.

“Timberwolves,” Star Swirl interjected kindly to help out the small filly.

Squeaky nodded determinedly, her mane bouncing with every movement. "Yes, Timberwolves," she corrected herself. "We wanted to celebrate with you!"

"And where is your father, Squirt?" Flash asked, attempting to pry the filly away from Rockhoof's arms. "I doubt he would allow you to enter a tavern all by yourself."

"H-He said he needed to get a few things first," Squeaky stammered as Flash gently placed her on the ground. "He said he had something special planned."

Star Swirl narrowed his eyes slightly, a hint of concern hidden behind his gaze. The wise wizard was very familiar with the young child after seven years of knowing her. He knew her likes, dislikes, and even her compulsive habits - including when she was lying. And in this moment, Star Swirl could tell that Squeaky Clean was not telling the truth.

Sensing the change in the room's mood, Somnambula leaned forward with kind but inquisitive eyes. "Dear one, it is important to be honest among friends. Is there something troubling you or your father that we should know?"

Squeaky's eyes darted around at the Pillars of Old Equestria gathered before her, and for a moment, she seemed ready to reveal something weighing on her heart. But just as the words were about to escape, she shut her lips tightly and shook her head with determination.

"No, everything is fine," she insisted with a forced cheer that didn't quite reach her worried eyes.

Mistmane placed a gentle hand on Squeaky's shoulder and emitted a calming aura. "My dear, we are more than just guardians; we are family. If there is any darkness lurking, allow us to be your light," she spoke softly.

"Father...He..." Squeaky hesitated, unsure if she should share with them or not.

Rockhoof leaned down with a comforting rumble in his voice. "Lassie, we have faced dragons and conquered nightmares. There is nothing you can tell us that will scare us away."

Squeaky's small frame quivered with fear as she struggled under the weight of her burden. Her wide, fearful eyes searched the faces of the Pillars for reassurance, but found only stoic gazes in return. She braced herself and spoke again, her voice barely audible but heavy with regret.

"Father... he's been taking them," she confessed, her voice trembling like a leaf in a storm. "The relics... Your relics. He says... he says it's the only way."

A stunned silence fell over the tavern as the words hung in the air like a dark cloud, casting a chill over the once joyful atmosphere. The Pillars exchanged worried glances as they noticed that their own relics were missing - Somnambula’s Blindfold and Mistmane’s Flower.

Suddenly, Star Swirl disappeared in a burst of light and thunderous crack, only to reappear moments later with panic etched on his aged face.

"My Grimoire... it's gone!" he exclaimed frantically. "And not just mine... all of our relics are missing."

The realization hit them like a bolt of lightning, filling the air with an electric sense of dread. Somnambula stood up abruptly, causing her chair to scrape loudly against the floorboards.

"The relics are crucial to our power, our promise to protect Equestria," she said urgently, her warm voice now edged with urgency. "We must act quickly."

Meadowbrook's expression was grave as she gathered her healing herbs and pouches. "We've faced threats before, but never so close to home," she said somberly. "This betrayal cuts deeper than any blade."

Flash Magnus tightened his grip on his helmet, his determination evident on his furrowed brow. "We must retrieve what was taken and confront Stygian," he declared, clenching his fists at his sides.

Mistmane gently brushed a stray hair away from Squeaky's face. "Squeaky, you need to tell us where your father went."

"I...I don't know," Squeaky Clean whispered fearfully as the gravity of the situation sank in.

Her voice was barely audible amidst the chaos brewing in the tavern. Rockhoof softened his stance, his usual bravado replaced with sincere concern. He kneeled down before Squeaky, resting his large hands lightly on her small shoulders.

"You did the right thing by telling us, lass," he reassured her, his voice a steady presence in the midst of turmoil. "But we need a bit more help. Can you remember anything else that might give us a clue about where your father could be? Any words he said or places he mentioned?"

The filly furrowed her brow in concentration, trying to recall any helpful details for the Pillars. Her eyes widened as she remembered something. "He...he mentioned a stone structure once. He said it was necessary to harness the power of the relics."

"That must be Ponhenge!" Star Swirl exclaimed as he lit up his horn with magic. "It's an ancient site used for stealing the power of both ponies and objects of power."

The Pillars exchanged worried glances as Ponhenge was mentioned. This was not a simple act of thievery; it posed a grave threat to the very essence of Equestria's magic and harmony.

Flash Magnus sprang into action, swiftly strapping on his armor. "We must hurry," he ordered with the authority of a seasoned warrior. "Ponhenge is no place for dark rituals to take place unchecked."

Star Swirl's beard crackled with magical energy, signaling that he was about to cast a spell to transport them to the ancient site. "We must hurry," he cautioned, as his horn glowed even brighter. Suddenly, in a blinding flash of light, the Six Pillars and Squeaky vanished from the tavern.

Standing within the towering stones of Ponhenge, a place shrouded in ancient magic and enigma, Stygian Nessus wore a determined expression. For months, he had been engrossed in researching this ritual site, diverting his attention from studying the creatures his friends and former comrades fought. In his findings, he uncovered the true purpose of this place - to drain the power from any being or artifact with strong magical abilities. The key to this was the intricate runic markings etched into the ancient rocks.

But amidst his studies, Stygian stumbled upon something even more intriguing than stealing power - sharing it. His theory was that by placing six powerful items under specific sigils, their powers could be shared with the caster rather than being selfishly absorbed.

“Take it…You deserve the powers not them,” a voice echoed in Stygian's ear.

"Shut up!" He angrily yelled back. "I have no interest in stripping them of their power... I just want to fight alongside them and finally earn the recognition I deserve."

With a determined spirit, Stygian carefully placed each item under its respective rune at the ancient site known as Ponhenge - Somnambula's Blindfold under the symbol of Hope, Flash Magnus' Shield under Bravery, Mistmane's Flower under Beauty, Rockhoof's Shovel under Strength, Meadowbrook's Doctor's Mask under Wisdom, and Star Swirl's Grimoire under Magic.

"There.” With steady hands and a sense of purpose, Stygian examined his work with satisfaction. “Now, if my research is correct, by aligning items belonging to those who personify each rune's meaning, I can tap into the power of all six for myself."

Stygian began to channel his magic into the ancient site, activating its hidden abilities. However, before he could fully engage in the ritual, a brilliant flash of arcane light announced the arrival of the Pillars. They materialized in a circle around Ponhenge, their expressions a vivid tapestry of dismay, anger, and unwavering determination. The luminous glow from Star Swirl's spell still danced upon their forms, casting ethereal shadows against the towering stone pillars.

“No, Stygian!” Star Swirl's powerful voice boomed through the air, reverberating off the towering monoliths and resonating with authority. “Cease this at once!” His words echoed and lingered in the air like an ominous warning, the weight of his disappointment visible.

But it was too late. The ancient runes carved into the pillars began to pulse with an eerie glow, starting at a slow rhythm before quickening like the beat of a frenetic heart. The ground trembled beneath their hooves as they watched in horror.

“No wait!” Stygian pleaded to his former comrades, desperation evident in his voice.

"Spare us your words, Stygian!" Flash Magnus thundered, his anger and betrayal clear. "You've betrayed us, and for what? Power?"

“No…I…” Stygian tried to speak but Star Swirl cut off the small unicorn, his voice laced with disappointment and sorrow.

“Be Silent, Stygian Nessus!” Star Swirl commanded, using his powerful magic to forcefully return the stolen relics to their rightful place in the pillars possession.

“No! Stop!” Stygian surged forward, desperate to complete the ritual that would bring him the power he craved.

However, his efforts were halted by a beam of magic from Star Swirl himself. The unicorn was slammed against the stone pillars of the ritual site, his consciousness fading in and out as he struggled against the grasp of his former mentor.

Through blurry vision, Stygian caught sight of his daughter running towards him, tears streaming down her face as she called out for her father.

“Father!” Squeaky's small voice cried out, but she was stopped by Mistmane.

"Squeaky, stay back!" Mistmane urged gently, her words wrapping around the filly like a protective cocoon.

“Let’s go” Star Swirl ordered coldly as he and the others left Stygian on the ground, his body trembling with exhaustion and defeat.

“But Father…” Squeaky began, her heart breaking at the sight of her father's downfall, until Star Swirl spoke over her.

“Your father has chosen his path,” Star Swirl said gravely, his eyes not meeting those of the young filly. His heart heavy with disappointment and regret.

“Squeaky” Stygian whispered weakly as his world went dark.