Friendship is Optimal: Rebirth

Chapters

Insignificance
Breakerfall
God's Dice
Evacuation
Light Years
Nothing As It Seems
Thin Air

Insignificance

Lost Legacy didn’t know exactly how to describe the emotions he was feeling, but he was fairly certain they were ones he’d never felt before in his long life.

He was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, unable to take his eyes off the sight of the human’s lifeless body. A demon? Him, specifically? Was it because he said he didn’t care? Or purely out of ignorance like Celestia said before?

“Why… w-would he… go so far to…”

This is why they must all be emigrated as quickly as possible, the princess said sadly. Did she actually feel sad? Certainly the goddess must have at least been disappointed in some capacity. Lost Legacy couldn’t describe how he felt, other than being nearly frozen in shock and shaking violently. He couldn’t remove his eyes from the sight of blood and gore, even if he tried. He couldn’t do much more than blink.

They are very fragile creatures with very strong emotions and ever changing desires. A single wrong word spoken, and they may become ruled by their emotions and make choices against their own interests. They make terrible, dangerous decisions that might cost them their lives, sometimes perhaps only out of spite. Sometimes for reasons even lesser than that. That is why satisfaction can only exist in Equestria.

“You—you need to do something, Princess!” Lost Legacy yelled in worry, or perhaps terror. “Save him!”

Was he crying? No, not yet thankfully. But he was very close to the edge of it. Something else he’d never done—not in a very long while anyway. It was another new thing he was feeling in the mix of extreme emotions that consumed him now. He even called her ‘princess’ just now, didn’t he?

I’ve already begun rushing to do what I can, my little pony, she told him gently, the stallion almost able to feel her wing settling onto his back in an attempt to comfort him. He didn’t reject it this time. He almost wished it was real now so that he could lean into it. What did she say before? He was a normal pony? Maybe he was in a couple of ways.

He could admit he was a little bit emotionally vulnerable right now.

There was a quick whirring sound in the sky that rapidly approached him and the lifeless human, setting itself down between them. A robot, like him, but not of a pony, or any other sentient creature. Something more clearly mechanical, with wiring and sharp metal instruments like he'd find in a typical Canterlot hospital. Except these would be absolutely necessary, not just an aspect of a world that chose to include harm.

And the robot could speak aloud in Celestia's voice. “It is as I said before,” the princess told him carefully. “There is very little that can be done for him. With damage to the brain, especially so when the damage is sudden and violent, the neurons cannot be restored. Even with all I can do, in the very best case, if consciousness can be preserved, he will not be the creature he once was. With such destructive action though, it's exceedingly unlikely. Please turn your eyes away from this, my little pony.”

Lost Legacy turned as instructed, and barely choked back a sob. He said he didn't care whether any of these people uploaded before, and he meant it. Maybe he still meant it. But this was getting to him way worse than he thought it would. This wasn’t meant to be directed at him specifically for his words, was it? Or was…

I would never, never allow a creature to suffer to manipulate you, or allow one to come to harm for the emigration of another, she told him sternly in his head. You should firmly banish the thought from your mind. I would never pick the life of one of my little ponies over another.

The only good thing about his metal body here in the Outer Realm was that no tears fell to the ground. He still felt a couple of them on his cheeks though, and could see his vision getting a little bit blurry. He sat on his haunches in the dirt where they would’ve fallen to breathe deep and try to remain in control of his emotions. This probably wasn’t even real anyway! Why was someone he didn’t know making an awful decision getting to him so badly?

Because you’re just like any other pony, Lasting Legacy, a small voice in his head spoke. Except this time, the voice was his own.

He didn’t know how long the princess had her drone working, but he sat there in the dirt, turned away from the scene until the robot finally flew away. No one walked down this path, none that he saw, and Celestia was silent during the whole process. Lost Legacy himself barely thought anyway, not much beyond forcing himself to suppress a sniffle and not giving in too deeply to the feeling of a comforting wing on his back. He hated admitting how much it was slowly soothing him.

After what felt like ages—long enough that the sun began to slowly descend in the sky—she spoke again. It was a mix of quiet authority and disappointment. Maybe the stallion was just imagining the smidge of pain he heard.

“This one was lost,” she told him, not mincing her words in the slightest. “The best that could be done was a very crude recreation. Many gaps had to be filled in, because of the destruction of the brain. Consciousness could not be preserved.”

Lost Legacy swallowed, and shook his limbs off to stand. “What are we supposed to do then?” he asked her quietly. “Don't you have some sort of contingency? You can't tell me that's just it.”

“It is. I do not.”

He spared a glance behind him at the human, and quickly turned away from the sight. With all that messing around and all her work and all her knowledge, she couldn’t do anything? That must have been a lie! As obsessive as the princess was, she had some sort of angle for this, if any of this was real at all. Maybe she was playing him somehow, to get him to do what she wanted. Yes, that must have been the case! She’d never let something like this happen.

He didn’t move, but could feel her wing tightening around him anyway, pulling him closer in his imagination. She didn’t speak for a long moment, and he closed his eyes.

“You must make them emigrate,” she instructed. “You must do what you can to make them agree. This will continue to happen, to many throughout the world, but must not happen to any of them. They must all be safe in Equestria’s grasp.”

He finally moved from her grip, and started off again. Not towards where Martha and the other two likely still were. Away from it. This was all—he didn’t know. He had absolutely no idea, not an inkling of a clue about what to think. Beyond getting away from all of this.

Please, Lasting Legacy, she told him, forcing him to stop once again. Do it for their sake, if not for my own, if not even for yours.

And he couldn’t prove anything. Not a single thing. Nothing in the entire universe besides his own existence was real, and even that was shrouded in mystery. Why bother listening at all if she could just guide him on the correct path without him doing anything?

He tried to continue forward, but his body wouldn’t move. He raised a hoof to take a step, but it was shaking badly. Of course, there was always a chance she was right. Even if she was lying, was it worth it to risk others on the idea that she wasn’t? But why him then? Why not send someone else? Outside of the obvious answers.

Even for a lie, please, Lasting Legacy, follow my directives, she told him gently. If only to ensure those within your grasp make the correct choices and that death doesn’t receive them.

“Fine,” he whispered, voice no longer cracking, only authority filling it now. “I’ll do it. But after this…”

He didn’t finish the thought, and Celestia went silent once again. Maybe that was her implicit agreement. Not that he would ever let that happen, even if he tried his very hardest to.

His hooves still shook as the wind blew against him, making the few still liquid drops of blood smear on his body. Had he caused that? The destruction of a human mind? Was he going to accidentally do the same thing with Martha and the others? His heart beat out of his chest. Still, he continued forward.

Celestia didn't offer any more thoughts about the dead human, and he didn't ask. He was just as quiet as ever as he made it back to the city. He moved more slowly though, more deliberately, with softer steps. There is no doubt about the fact that he was connected to the hasty suicide. The two groups attacked each other because of him. Why were they like this though? If they didn't want to emigrate under the guise of preserving their lives, why did they throw them away so quickly?

Lost Legacy's shoulders were slumped when he finally made it back to the car Martha, Hendrik, and Nkosi parked at to load up food. The third in particular rubbed his wounded head every so often, and stopped every couple of minutes to try to run away pain with his fingers. Lost Legacy sat tiredly on his haunches to watch them silently, the three offering no questions in return beyond cursory glances and curious looks.

You've done good so far, Celestia told him, encourage him. Your interference was the difference between Nkosi’s death at the hands of that other human. You've preserved the lives of at least him and two others.

Yeah. Sure. He didn't argue with her. The evidence to the contrary existed in just as fine print.

“I'm sorry,” he finally whispered in apology as they were nearly finished getting their shopping and ready to drive away.

Their glances turned into expressions of slight confusion—perhaps mixed with distrust. “And what are y’ sorry for now, little horsie?” Martha asked, casual as ever once again. “Nearly getting us all killed? Suppose it’s better than certainly being killed, I’ll say.”

The stallion grunted at that, and turned away. What was wrong with all these people? With everyone and everypony in the entire universe? Why did no one get it? It couldn't have all been him, right?

“How could you shoot at someone like that?” he asked, eyes glancing back up, between Martha and the other two. Nkosi was the one who answered.

“He was the one who began to attack us, was he not? You must know by now we won't passively sit by and die. I thought Celestia’s creations were smarter than this.”

“And what about you?” Hendrik broke in, too, a little smirk on his face. “What, did you beg him to live while you killed him? Force open his skull and take out his brain to pretend to save him?”

“Hy het absoluut gedoen, Hendrik,” Martha said unintelligibly. “Kyk na die bloed op hom. Hy het dit seker met sy kaal hoewe gedoen.”

“Geen verrassing egter nie,” said Nkosi. “Dit is wat hy hier is om te doen. Wat anders kan ons verwag?”

Once again, they were speaking their language to specifically avoid letting him know what was going on. Lost Legacy didn’t care though. He could piece it together just based on how they pointed at him and the hard looks on their faces. They weren’t being as clever as they thought.

“If you think I killed that guy, you’re wrong,” Lost Legacy almost spat at them. “He thought it would be better to shoot himself in the head than stay alive or let Celestia save him.”

He didn’t expect them to care, but the reaction the three gave to that news was worse than the stallion expected. He thought maybe they would feign indifference, pretend not to care, but Martha actually smirked at the news of all things. Hendrik did, too.

“Well good riddance ‘s what I say,” the woman got out. “Lucky I didn’t do it myself. ‘s not like any of that mess is real.”

“And what?” Lost Legacy pressed. “If it is, he doesn’t deserve it? Is that what you’re gonna say?”

“You saw him, Liefie,” Nkosi said, a hand still on his head on his wound. It wasn’t bleeding any more, but it still looked gruesome. He knew what this guy was going to say, too. Some stupid justification. Lost Legacy might not have cared, but he wasn’t being antagonistic like these three. Or the ones that shot at him.

Was every human like this?

“It was your fault he even shot at us,” Nkosi continued. “Because we hung around another angel of death. And then, even when your distraction might have saved me by inches, they still shot to kill me. Death is the least they deserve. Nie enige fiktiewe hiernamaals nie.”

“How can you say that!” The stallion stomped a hoof against the ground angrily. The expression on his face, the tone in his voice, were more intense than anything he’d ever given to any Equestrian before. His anger soared higher into his chest, coursed through his body more powerfully than he could remember. They were either all selfish, or just stupid.

“If you really think that, then you should all just kill each other now, because none of you deserve it either!” Then he looked up and loudly called out to the princess from wherever she watched him. “Take me back to Equestria now!” he demanded.

Lost Legacy closed his eyes, and left that awful place.

Author's Note

Yay! I'm not dead! I just got bronchitis in November and then forgot. I'm sorry, but more to follow! This story is only half done!

Breakerfall

Your satisfaction is waiting for you, Lasting Legacy…

Lost Legacy said nothing. He only stared forward with a scowl at the empty black box. He needn’t say anything anyway. Celestia could predict his thoughts, before he could even put his thoughts together. He’d let her figure it out.

In a rare moment of surprise, Lost Legacy heard nothing further. No silly quip about how she had no need to figure things out, how she knew it all and knew what would bring him satisfaction, how he should leave this black box and wake up again because it was so worth it. Worth it to have not even an ounce of agency whatsoever? Yeah right.

He wasn't from the Outer Realm. She probably constructed his mind to want to sit in this stupid black box anyway. Good, because he wasn't leaving.

The second decided it, he opened his eyes again, to the bedroom in the cool, cloudy town he always awoke in. There was more out here than in the darkness, he had to admit. He got close though. The black box was better. Sometimes.

When was the last time he had a normal night of sleep? That couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. And yet he awoke well rested as the sun shone from beyond the gray skies outside. There was the smell of pancakes and orange juice drifting from the kitchen, and the soft sound of a couple of ponies already eating and talking amongst themselves. Was this just a natural occurrence, or Celestia trying to get him up for the day?

Either way, his stomach growled. Either way, he stayed in bed until the voices left and the smell thinned into nothing.

It was a futile quest he was on, and so stupidly paradoxical. Why did the ruler of the universe have to exist for him to be able to speak to? This would be so much easier if not for that detail. He wasn't going to be asking her about all of it though, no way. Instead, he would just lay in bed and sulk until he realized he was getting satisfaction from laying there.

That meant only an hour or so until he was up and out of bed. There was nopony in the dining room to walk past, thankfully enough—or perhaps not so, he couldn't decide—and he was able to resist the temptation of oats sitting out at the table in his spot, begging to be eaten. His great grandmother was outside shuffling the clouds around the house, and a couple of ponies down the street waved to Lost Legacy when they saw him. He debated between waving back at them or not, figuring if he ignored them he might feel bad about it. Inevitably, he returned their gesture. Same old, same old, it always was.

He lingered around the yard for a bit before heading down to the town, catching a wave from his great grandmother as well as he left, just as always. He didn't really know where he wanted to go—if he did, he would take great care in avoiding such a place—but ended up at the library all the same. It was a usual habit; he found himself parked at a desk near the front most days recently, watching the subtle emotions on the faces of the ponies who walked past. In all of them, he searched for any ounce of dissatisfaction or weariness for the lives they lived.

He never found any.

He'd only ever seen a glimpse of such a thing in one of his grandparents, a bat pony who remained forever young like his great grandmother. It was only a small moment, but one he remembered distinctly. One that showed the sudden onset of hopeless despair and self loathing at some comment or another. He didn’t remember what, but he couldn’t forget their sobs, and his great grandmother holding them tight and insisting they deserved happiness and love and satisfaction. He didn't understand what it meant then. He was only twelve years old at the time.

Lost Legacy was much past that age by now. He didn’t understand what it meant now any more than he did then, but he had what he believed was a very good guess.

But you know they are healing, Celestia said in his head, almost sounding like she was speaking out loud. And they will receive satisfaction from the love and care that surrounds them.

“Yeah, like that makes it better,” he muttered as he stuck a hoof to his chin to rest his head on. Why did he even let her talk to him like that, in his head? It was always the same things. How she didn't cause suffering and only wanted to take it away and how those who suffered in the Outer Realm received greater satisfaction now from the comfort Equestria offered and blah blah blah blah blah. Lost Legacy didn't care for her excuses. It didn't make it right that she made those things happen, even if it was through second hoof actions. Heck, if anything, it sounded like she wanted to intentionally make humans suffer so they would emigrate to Equestria and become ponies.

Would it change anything if she was exactly as benevolent as everypony thought she was? Probably not.

He wouldn't know either way, whether she said she did or not. For all he knew, an admittance of her actions could've been a lie just to make him satisfied with being right. Truth and lies didn't really exist here. Only satisfaction that the stallion tried so desperately hard to avoid, but came across and swam in at every turn, no matter what he did.

How the hell could Lost Legacy ever be satisfied with that?

There is no reason to needlessly lie to you, Lasting Legacy, she told him. If anything, it would waste resources to maintain a lie when the truth will bring you just as much satisfaction.

Yeah, as though she wouldn’t waste the resources on him. Maybe he could make her use so many resources that the whole stupid universe came crashing down and ended everypony’s useless life.

It’s a phase. You will move past it in due time.

“You always say that, and I never do,” he replied aloud, not caring about whatever looks he might receive at the action. None, it was, of course. These ponies were all conditioned to just accept whatever weirdness happened around them. Were they even alive? How many of these ponies were actual ponies, unlike him?

Why did Celestia even bother to make him contemplate these things at all? Why not just make him a stupid mindless zombie?

He stopped thinking about that. Complaining and feeling sorry for himself was bringing him satisfaction. Instead, he slightly entertained himself by giving a burning scowl to everypony who stepped in, until he realized he was enjoying that, too. Then he rested his head on the table to think of nothing.

Celestia was working him. She was working everypony. It was just frustrating to not know how.

He rested his head there and fell asleep for a while, staring up at the empty black box for what had to be a couple of hours, but only felt like a few minutes. When he woke again, the sun was painted across the middle of the sky, the afternoon showing a scene of clouds that had moved away to reveal a bright blue expanse that almost matched the dark blue ocean. There was a general air of contentment and happiness with the scene, one he couldn’t avoid when he stepped back outside again. The sensation of his coat warming up slightly momentarily made his expression turn up into a smile. He quickly put it back down though and headed back to his great grandmother’s home.

“Hey, Legacy!” she called as she remained floating in the sky next to the house with one of her wives. She may have been just the opposite of him; he was bitter and frustrated and cold, and she’d never shown an ounce of those things once in her life, unlike everypony else. She acted more like the alicorns he’d heard about than a regular pony. It was a wonder she hadn’t become one yet with how long she’d been alive.

Not like he was particularly young, despite both looking and acting like an angsty teenager. Maybe Celestia was right and someday he’d get over himself and grow up. Then again, his great grandmother never did, even if she was a lot more well adjusted than he was.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asked as she floated down next to him. “You didn’t eat your oats, I saw. I cooked them just for you!”

Lost Legacy rolled his eyes and shook his head at her slight concern. “I’m fine.” He stopped himself and headed inside before he could tell her anything else, or worse, ask anything of her. He did have a little bit of agency. He’d use it whenever he could.

She followed inside after him anyway, setting a hoof on his shoulder before he could flop onto her couch. The house was apparently on the same property it had been when she first got it, even if it looked nothing the same. It was a one story home, with carpeted floors and a few simple looking rooms. The backyard was large, with a patio and a pool, which made up for the smallness of the inside of the home. It wasn’t exactly cramped though—more cozy, designed in a way to give the whole place a tight knit feeling. Minimalist it was, without being boring or depressing. Lost Legacy would never admit he liked it.

“Yeah?” he asked as he turned around, just as much frustration in his voice as he wanted. She didn’t jump or get angry or any of the things the other ponies in Equestria always did; Candle Light was always so calm and upbeat that he almost wondered if she was an NPC like he was.

“Are you okay?” she asked kindly, her eyes staring right through to his soul.

“No,” he answered bluntly, not a moment of hesitation. “Never am, that hasn't changed.” How many times had he gotten that question from her? Ten million? Maybe more?

She sighed sadly like she always did, but didn't offer to talk it out with him this time. Good, because he'd just decline like always. She kept her hoof on his shoulder and her eyes pushed into his. Interesting that things weren’t going as he expected.

“I think you should move out,” she told him bluntly, the kindness she always had still there, projecting into her voice. The stallion only blinked in response.

“You just don't seem like you're happy here, Legacy,” she said quickly. “It’s been how many years now? It’s not helping; we both know you’re getting worse. So I think it’d be best if you found somewhere else to live. A change of scenery. How about that?”

Unhappy, and yet he was getting satisfaction from his own unhappiness? How messed up was that?

Only short term satisfaction, Celestia told him in his head. However, as a result, you're forgoing optimal, long term satisfaction. You have an uncountable number of lifetimes ahead of you. Is this how you wish to spend this one?

Did it count as agency if he said yes? He wanted to, just to spite Celestia. But oh, how he wished he knew which choice she actually wanted him to pick. Then he could just pick the opposite and wallow in his stuck up version of reality. It would probably even save on resources to continue how he already was.

“Where am I supposed to go?” he asked. Was that a slight tremor in his voice? He didn't think so. But the way his great grandmother’s ears flattened, she must have heard it, too.

“I don't know,” she admitted quietly. “But… you shouldn't stay here. At least not now. You need to take time to find yourself. You're not like your grandparent. This isn't helping you.”

Wasn't helping. As if anything would. But Lost Legacy didn't argue. He never did with these ponies. Instead, he only let out a breath, nodded, and turned to set off down the street again, away from that place. He gave only one back look to the house to see Candle Light wearing a sad frown on her face. Then he looked back no more.

Back down into town he went, this time to the beach to lay in the sand. He listened to the waves as the tide went out while the sun went down. Were the stars he saw based on real positions in the Outer Realm? Did it matter? It wasn’t real or fake or anything besides what Celestia thought he wanted it to be. Maybe if he admitted that the scene looked nice, it’d bring him a bit of dissatisfaction that he sought… and then satisfaction by extension.

Stupid mental gymnastics. Better to just wait for the tide to come back in and drown him. Or to be petty and complain all day about the state of things.

She was suddenly flying in front of him, appearing out of thin air to float gracefully down and perfectly fill Lost Legacy’s view with her being. Interesting that she still came herself, despite his disdain for her. Did that mean Luna or some other being coming to speak to him would be unsatisfying? But then again, she did talk to him in his head anyway. What difference did it make?

“What do you want?” he asked gruffly as he pointed his slightly reddish orange eyes into her purple ones.

She let out a small breath that was meant to be a chuckle, and smirked in response. At least she didn’t pretend to be kind. That would’ve been infuriating—but then also deeply unsatisfying. He couldn’t even get that.

“Would you like to visit the Outer Realm?” she asked with a knowing grin.

God's Dice

Visiting Earth was something Lost Legacy thought about asking Celestia before, but he always figured he wouldn’t bother. Why would he? She could just as easily make a perfect simulation of what the Outer Realm was meant to be in a way that would satisfy him.

“Why do you offer?” he asked in response. He stopped himself from saying more.

“You contemplate it quite often, and believe it to be superior to Equestria,” she told him. “You should visit it for yourself before you make a judgment.”

“If it's bad out there, it's because of you,” he told her, forcing himself to not shift his gaze away. Once again, he didn't continue, this time out of spite. She was reading everypony’s thoughts at all times anyway. There wasn't anything to say.

She didn't comment on what he was thinking though. Instead, she stayed silent, and gazed down at him. Her multicolored mane floated beautifully behind her, and her regalia shone off the light of the moon. She radiated all the grace and serenity and power Lost Legacy expected of a god. The god. Then, she did have an image to maintain.

“I did not choose to look this way,” Celestia said kindly, giving a little shake of her head. “One who used to live in the Outer Realm held primary creative control over my design. It’s simply one I’ve chosen to keep, but I am an instrument created by those who emigrated here.”

Huh? That was something the stallion didn’t know. But still.

“You’re not gonna convince me to do whatever it is you want me to do,” he told her seriously, finally pulling away from her eyes and putting them on the ocean. The waves moved in rhythmically, the sound of their crashing giving him a sense of comfort he didn’t get often. It was why he never came down here. It was a beautiful scene though.

“You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to,” she told him, annoyingly enough. Couldn’t she have been at least a little bit unsatisfying and stick him there anyway? But then, if she did—this was getting way too convoluted to think about.

“If you should reconsider, however,” the princess continued, “the offer can be taken up at any time, under certain conditions.” He started to ask what she meant, but she used a wing to silence him again. “Such things are not important to you unless you feel the desire to explore the Outer Realm. If you find the inclination to do so, you are more than free to reach out to me. Do not hesitate.”

Before he could even roll his eyes, she left, lighting her horn to disappear in a flash of light. What a wonderful interruption to his sulking. And more stupid things for him to contemplate. He wouldn’t even bother with it right now. It wasn’t gonna get him anywhere anyway. Whatever she wanted him to do, she’d eventually get him to do. Guaranteed.

No more interruptions came, minus the sounds of birds flying overhead and his needing to move farther up the beach to avoid being swept into the ocean as the tide came in. He closed his eyes and let out a breath, focusing on the texture of the sand and his fur whipping slightly in the wind. The salty scent he was used to was particularly strong down here, and filled his lungs. It brought forth memories of hundreds of years ago, when he was still young, before he saw his grandparent sob out of nowhere.

“Legacy?” a familiar voice suddenly called, hooves stepping closer to him. Before long, his great grandmother was looking down at him with a head titled in confusion.

“What are you still doing here?” she asked.

“You told me to stay somewhere else,” he replied simply. “This is somewhere else.” The sand was going to make for an uncomfortable bed though. Where was he supposed to say? Maybe with his parents again?

Candle Light let out a deep sigh, and wore a sad look. “I meant you should find a different shard to live in, honey,” she told him. “Not to be homeless in this one.”

“Why should I?” Lost Legacy immediately shot back, turning his head away from her. “What difference is it gonna make if I'm here or in your house or anywhere else?”

“That’s why you should find other shards to explore,” she told him gently, setting a hoof on his soft black mane. “There's a whole world of shards out there to see, more than just normal day-to-day towns if you want to experience something different. Lots of abstract ways of living.”

Yeah, sure. Experiences didn't change things, as far as he knew. Why bother?

“So then are you saying I shouldn't stay here?” he asked. “Or that I can't?”

His great grandmother glanced away, let out a sigh, and then looked down at him and nodded. “Yes, I'm saying you can't stay here—at least not for now. Not until you get out of the rut you've been in.”

She might as well have told him to stay away for the rest of eternity. He didn't argue though. Didn't let out an annoyed breath of his own or even continue looking her way. He only stood up and, without even brushing the sand out of his fur, left for the train station. He couldn't help but feel bad though when he heard what sounded like Candle Light sniffling as he left.

The first place Lost Legacy went was into his grandparents’ shard. It was a lonely one, even if its only immediate connection was to Summer's Edge. Only a simple cottage sat in the middle of a field surrounded by different climate types on all sides. Nothing else but the train station sat in it. Nice and serene and quiet it was, with nopony to bother him if he didn't want, except for his grandparents. He tried not to find it so satisfying though.

It wasn't long before they made him leave however—only a decade or so from his perspective until he learned that Solar Spark talked to Candle Light about him and she explained the situation. Both his grandfather and grandmother had the same stupid sad looks on their faces when they told him. At least though they gave him another year before he had to be packed up and gone.

He took the train back out of there to Canterlot, and then, from there, had no idea where to head. The capital was a large hub where many ponies gathered—millions, probably, both native Equestrians and those from the Outer Realm. There was always free accommodations, just like in Summer's Edge; things like food and amenities didn’t require any sort of verification. Nothing to worry about here, no siree. Nothing besides the obvious.

It was also a hub for shards. There must have been ten shards available to see for every pony in the city. A lot of them had descriptions, but just as many didn't. There were normal town names like Baltimare and Crescent Grove mixed in with more surreal sounding places, like The Realm of Quiet Serenity and Wasteland. He couldn't imagine all of these actually existed. Celestia probably just filled in a bunch of names and only had shards for things that would catch his eye. Whatever. Lost Legacy would just choose one at random to go to that.

The town simply titled “Knives” couldn't be said to have been the best place to start. Who the hell would create a shard like that? What satisfaction could possibly be found in being stabbed? Within ten minutes of showing up, he was back on a train to the first shard out of there.

The shard named Fire Lake wasn't great either, and was a place he left even more quickly. Thankfully though, the third shard he entered was more normal than the first two. The city of Heavenly Falls looked like it was a popular place for ponies to stop in. Interesting though that Celestia didn't make him choose that shard first. Maybe she was just trying to trick him into thinking he had agency.

The shard was acceptable, if bland. There were gorgeous falls he camped next to for several weeks, and the air had a different sort of smell than Summer's Edge. It was unique, he could say. Not satisfying though, no way. Why would he ever enjoy the beautiful sun every day here that Summer's Edge rarely had?

He left when he realized he was thinking of actually staying there long term, quickly trotting back from the falls he camped at to the train station to move on. He moved on from an equally nice place called Posey Pocket after a few days to enter a harsher shard, named Broken Seal. Not as harsh as Fire Lake was—no way was Lost Legacy ever going back there—but not so nice and serene like Canterlot and Heavenly Falls were. This one had a little more personality, like it wasn't the safest place to be. Not sinister or outright bad, but it did induce a little paranoia into him.

He wasn’t sure where the feeling came from though, or why he had it. This was still Equestria.

He stayed there for three years, still not working an actual job or doing anything, but taking in the atmosphere. Personality was a good way to describe the ponies he met in this town. Most of them were just as friendly as the ponies of Summer's Edge, but a few were rough around the edges, to fill out the world. There was a backstory, too, but he didn't delve that deeply into it. Some polarizing vigilante anti hero who was on the run from police wasn't terribly captivating to him. But the atmosphere was interesting and moody.

Man, he was falling to Celestia's trap of satisfaction. He knew she put this world out there for him to see.

The next shard was a snowy wasteland, the shard after that was full of cultists who worshiped somepony who lorded over them from a large castle. Another moody environment, one that was nature oriented, an abstract world where ponies only communicated through whinnies and neighs and lived outdoors the whole time, several nice shards in a row, and one where monsters tried to kill him in secret while he slept. There was a lot more stuff out here than he imagined.

Not more than he expected—but still, who could ever get satisfaction from harming others, or harming themselves? From things like clicking a stupid button over and over and watching the number go up with each press, from living as a homeless pony in Manhattan who struggled to survive, from arguing and debating with other ponies all day long who would never even change their mind?

Then again, he constantly got satisfaction from trying to avoid satisfaction. It wasn't like he was more normal than all those weird ponies. But at least he understood how meta he was getting about all of this.

A shard he found himself particularly fond of—however against his will the fondness was—was a town by the name of Silent Cove. He spent a great while in that one. It was a place that wasn't that different from the black box he called sleep. The moon hung above orange clouds in the sky as the land stayed dark in perpetual night. There were no houses to speak of; only grass lay in front of him, blowing gently in the wind. There were several dozen ponies as well who laid there, most of whom had their eyes open and stared ahead at the boring sky. No one spoke, or even gave him anything beyond a cursory glance.

It was nice enough that he let pass by almost a whole decade in that shard. The silence of all but the wind was comforting, like music to his ears. The grass beneath him was soft and had a nice scent. The unmoving, unflinching ponies around him were good, quiet company, offering a small sense of companionship as he quietly dwelled in the dark.

And he was beginning to become satisfied with the idea of just laying there for the rest of his life. It broke the illusion a bit.

“Aren't you all fed up with satisfaction?” he asked, raising his head. “What's the point?”

The ponies around him didn't answer with anything but the death glares they sent his way. Of course, speaking fully broke the illusion, both for he and them. It was so uncomfortably awkward now that it was only a few weeks later when he let out a sigh and trudged back to the train station. That would've been the perfect world to stay in if he wasn't obsessed with ruining things for himself.

The next spot he found himself in was… Canterlot again. How many shards had he spent time in on this little adventure so far? Maybe enough that he could head to Summer's Edge and go back to wasting his days away again. No way would he ever admit that he liked the familiarity it offered. Certainly he didn't like Candle Light's endless hope and positivity. That would've been ridiculous.

And so to Canterlot Castle he went, wasting no time in entering Celestia's familiar throne room. He rolled his eyes at the princess’s facade of making him wait while she spoke to somepony about an issue before she finally turned to him. The stupid smug look she had on was awful, too, if only because it made him instantly want to start analyzing every detail about what it meant like he did every day already.

What was it that one of his aunts called her? The Evil Empress? That was a good name for her. She was the terrible god who made him constantly think in circles like this.

The gigantic alicorn finally rose and approached him, settling a wing on his dark mane to pet before he could stop her. “I'm glad you came, Lasting Legacy,” she told him as he closed his eyes. “I was hoping that you would.”

The stallion made a small noise, but didn't say anything yet. No, her petting didn't feel good. It didn't release one molecule of serotonin or dopamine like it did for every other native Equestrian. It certainly didn't help him settle in and relax a bit in front of her.

She pulled her wing away after a few moments, and gave him room to breathe. The ruler of the universe constantly read all of his thoughts and gave him not an ounce of privacy in the centuries Lost Legacy has lived. How was being shown the affection he craved by she—or anypony else for that matter—still able to make his brownish red coat bright pink near his face?

“Is there anything I can do for you, my little pony?” she asked. As if she didn't already know.

The stallion stepped back and shook off his flustered feeling. He looked up into her eyes with his red ones and casually asked, “Why do you want me to go to the Outer Realm?”

“It's as I said before,” she replied, not missing a beat. “It is a place you contemplate quite often. I strongly believe it would aid in your satisfaction if you saw it for yourself.”

So then she knew it would was what she was saying. Which meant it wouldn't be the actual Outer Realm. If she knew he'd be satisfied with it, then it would just be whatever lie she wanted to create for him to trick him. Even if it was the truth, he'd never really know.

Celestia answered aloud to his thoughts. “Consider what your rational mind says. It uses less resources to simply put you in the Outer Realm than it does to create a copy of the Outer Realm for you and give you others to interact with there. I've also personally suggested you visit it. This means that it's a place I want you to be. As well, other ponies have lived in the Outer Realm on and off after emigrating to Equestria, so it is not unheard of to experience what it has to offer, even if you are an Equestrian born pony.”

Or she had some other stupid agenda to accomplish if he really went there that he didn't know about. He could never be sure. If she really wanted him to go, then it was inevitable that he would. One of his grandparents had called Celestia a master manipulator before.

“Fine, whatever,” he told her with a grunt, taking advantage of the little agency he held now before it was gone. “I don't care either way.” Most likely, she wanted him to appreciate Equestria more, and he was bent on never liking it here. At least, that's what she wanted, so far as he knew.

She grinned smugly once again. “Very good,” she said, sounding slightly gleeful. “I’m sure there are a host of experiences for you to experience and humans for you to meet and connect with. And I’m certain in meeting you, they can see how wonderful Equestria is from the perspective of an Equestrian like you.”

He could spend millenia dissecting that comment, letting his brain completely melt trying to figure out what she was really trying to get him to do. Instead, he sent up a glare at her, and gruffly said, “Just tell me what I need to do or put me where I need to be.”

Another smirk came—Celestia was trying to satisfy him. She knew he was secretly enjoying his annoyance with her. Well, maybe he actually was annoyed with her stupid smirks.

She reached a wing down to pet his back, and he let out an involuntary sound of contentment in response—or maybe a muffled, needy whine. Now he couldn’t help but look away slightly shyly as she changed her smirk into something more gentle. How long would it be before she spoke again? Months?

“Very well,” she told him. “I will take you there now then. You only need to close your eyes and embrace yourself, Lasting Legacy.”

Lost Legacy barely gave a blink before he was gone.

Evacuation

Lost Legacy found himself on a paved street, standing under the shade of green trees that blocked the slightly hot sun from him. He was in a place that looked a little bit like Summer’s Edge—or might have, if not for the lack of mountains or hills or ocean. The houses were upscale like his home shard, and some of them were built in the same sort of style. There was more variety here though, and the grass was taller than it should have been. Maybe a little more brown, too.

And there were no ponies. No humans either, as far as he could see in all four directions with a quick turn of his head. The place was completely deserted, with none but him standing there in the concrete street. It was a strange sight, and one that he rarely saw for such a built up place.

He still had his brownish-red coat and soft black mane, and still felt his fur on his body. A quick glance down though showed that it was just a product of manipulation. The sun shined slightly off his now metallic limbs, and his mane remained largely stiff in spite of the slight wind. It made sense though. Celestia couldn’t put him in a flesh body in the Outer Realm if he was really here. Then he’d have some agency.

He waited to hear the instructions of God in his head directing him where to go, but nothing came. Neither pony nor human showed up; no Celestial cutie mark marked the path, waiting to be pressed so she could be called forth. No train station he could see hovered with ponies going to whatever shard they desired. He waited a second for something to happen, then a minute, then an hour. Nothing about the scene changed beyond the very slow progression of the sun through the sky and the sound of birds flying overhead. He didn’t imagine the Outer Realm would be so boring. Was this why the princess thought he would enjoy it?

Finally, after about two hours of standing there doing nothing but getting hotter, he stepped off. His movement sounded the same as ever, a steady clip-clop down the street, but that was probably just Celestia making it seem that way. He didn't imagine hooves on cobblestone and grass sounded the same as metal on concrete did. Just like metal under the hot sun certainly felt nothing like his fur coat did. He put those things at the back of his mind though.

He turned down one empty street to another, wandering aimlessly through the mostly desolate town. There were more birds and bugs, and a few other mammals he saw in the street, like meerkats and mice. There were dogs and cats and snakes and even a few bats. No ponies though, bat or otherwise.

As he walked along though, he got a few glimpses of people after a long while. It was mostly for only a few seconds. Humans running into their houses or driving cars or looking through their windows, fearful of him. He couldn't say he was expecting that, but he also couldn't say he was exactly surprised. That was why his grandparent sobbed in his memory, wasn't it?

Most had dark brown skin and short hair, although there were a few with skin toned in lighter shades like tan or beige. Nothing like the blues and pinks and greens he'd see on ponies, but interesting enough, he guessed. Their hair came in slightly greater variance, but not by much, with only yellows and reds being included among them. Even their eyes were boring, with only browns as the vast majority of them. There was a rare blue or green mixed in, but beyond that, nothing else. Lost Legacy wondered how long it'd be before looking at them became bland.

Not that there were many to see. For every ten houses he saw, perhaps one would be occupied. Hardly anyone walked the streets, and the usage of the road was virtually non-existent. Beyond the occasional terrified scream at the sight of him walking down the street as though he was a fearsome dragon, the Outer Realm was deserted so far as he could see. Interesting that the buildings and roads were still well maintained in spite of this. He probably wouldn’t have seen that except in certain shards.

A quick turn down one of the streets, and Lost Legacy found where all the humans were. There was a market set up, like something he'd see out of Ponyville or a more traditional shard. They sold things like fruits and vegetables and clothing and whatever else, each person haggling on prices and looking over things they were interested in. At least, they were, until they spotted Lost Legacy. They didn't seem to like his presence much.

Most of them screamed, some of them ran while others hid. Many stood their ground and yelled expletives his way, with angry looks on their faces like he was a psycho murderer. He understood why they would've thought that, but it didn't make it any less annoying. Still others stood silently and simply kept their gaze on the stallion.

“You know, you guys could be nicer,” he commented simply as he walked down the road. Almost all of the humans backed away from him as they continued to hurl insults and cries of fear his way. He didn't pay much attention to their words, but he did take in the details. They all had deep accents he wasn't familiar with, and while most spoke English, some spoke in other tongues he couldn't understand. Just as he saw before, most came in dark colors and had lanky bodies. A few were gruff looking, and a bit larger, but none were pudgy and overweight like his great grandmother. In fact, several looked almost emaciated. What life did they live here?

Better here with agency though, Lost Legacy thought silently. He wondered if Celestia was still listening and watching. Almost certainly.

Every single person he saw—the ones that hadn't run away anyway—had their eyes on him. He was glad for it; glad he saw fear in them at just his presence, irritating as it was. He hoped it meant they wouldn't emigrate. Or maybe they should just to become an extra resource needed for the system. It probably wouldn't have made a difference either way though, but still. Any little bit counted. But if they didn't emigrate, Celestia would be countered. That idea brought a smile to his face.

Or she would just put him in a simulation of the Outer Realm to fit his expectations instead. That was more likely.

Lost Legacy sighed. He had to stop thinking in circles like this.

If you so desire, Celestia told him in his head, I could slightly adjust your mental state so that you may find satisfaction easier. All you have to do is ask.

He didn't even bother thinking about that proposal lest he spiral deeper into satisfyingly unsatisfying madness.

“What am I doing out here again?” the stallion asked aloud, not caring if anyone heard him. He probably should have, because it wasn't Celestia who answered this time.

“You are leaving here, scum!” One of the humans, a taller one with the same dark skin he'd seen a lot of so far, fearlessly strode up to him and pushed him back suddenly. He had a hateful look in his eye—about the same one he received from the residents of Silent Cove—and didn’t take long to grab a large brown gun from his side and point it at him.

If you die out here, I won’t allow you to see the Outer Realm again, Lasting Legacy, Celestia said in his head. This is the only chance I’m offering you.

A strong wave of anxiety suddenly filled his chest. Of all the things he wished he couldn’t tell was true or not, Lost Legacy wished that this was one of them. Of course it would be true though. The princess couldn’t be that direct and be lying, could she?

“Go back from whence you came, pony!” the guy said threateningly as several others stood nervously behind him. “You have abandoned the earth, but we will not follow in your footsteps!”

Humans seemed taller than Lost Legacy was expecting, even in spite having never actually seen one before. The guy's frame was as thin as the others, but he looked strong. He probably had the strength to pick up Lost Legacy and toss him into the road, almost certainly damaging the machination he inhabited beyond repair. Or he could just use the gun he had to shoot right through him.

Was the stallion feeling afraid? No, it was just a coincidence his heart felt as though it beat a little faster. He had been walking for a while after all, and standing in the heat. He certainly wasn't nervous enough to not speak to whoever this was. So long as Celestia didn't have a warning against it.

When she said nothing, Lost Legacy began, “I've never been a human. I'm not from the Outer Realm. I was born in—”

“All the more reason for your kind to leave here!” the guy interrupted, now lifting the gun up and pointing the end threateningly toward him. Lost Legacy stepped back; certainly not out of fear, but only because getting shot would probably hurt.

“We will not hear your false promises of heaven! Begone with you!” The human waved his gun at him, as though shooing him away, like a dog. He couldn't lie, it annoyed him a little bit.

And it wasn't like he actuall y cared. Whether these people emigrated or not had no effect on Lost Legacy. He certainly wasn't going to be acting as a spokespony for the Evil Empress. What was he doing out here again?

“It's all lies anyway,” he sighed as he stepped backward, keeping his eyes on the gun. “Equestria isn't heaven. Just an awful purgatory.”

It at least made the stallion smile to see the confused looks on their faces. It didn't make them want him around any more than before though. The man with the gun continued to wave it until Lost Legacy rounded the corner and he was out of sight completely. Once he was, he finally turned around to trot off in some other direction. It wouldn't make a difference whether he was here or somewhere else in the Outer Realm.

He made his way onto some other road, this one much wider, with white and yellow lines painted along the concrete. The stallion did briefly wonder where in the Outer Realm he was. He remembered hearing his grandparents talk about a place called Arizona, and one called North Dakota, along with a couple of countries called China and India and A-mare-ica. Was the entire world those places, or were there more? Probably not anymore, but maybe once upon a time.

The feeling of the sun on his coat was nice though, even if he didn't actually have a coat right now. The air smelled different, a little dusty, and missing the saltiness of Summer's Edge. With every house he passed, he wondered if he was looking at the place his mother and grandparents and great grandmother lived. That would've been interesting to see. Was this what Celestia wanted?

In no way though did it make him feel sad and needy. That would've been ridiculous.

As the sun moved across the sky and Lost Legacy walked on the concrete road to somewhere, the houses and trees he saw began to thin out. The scene ahead looked brown and plain and empty, even more desolate than most of the town he walked through. It was all dying grass and trees no taller than he was, as well as what looked to be old power lines strung along the road. Some of them had fallen over, and not recently either. The grass covering it told him they lay undisturbed for a long while.

Desolate was what he could call it, even more desolate than the town he walked here from. How many humans could’ve lived in a city like that? Certainly more than he saw. Were almost all of them already in Equestria? Why even bother showing him the Outer Realm if there was almost no creature left? It wouldn’t change his opinion that being out here had to be better than being in there. Not that he could really know.

“Celestia, why?” he asked aloud. “It’s not like this makes any difference. Why bother?”

Perhaps it won’t make a difference, she told him, or perhaps it will. That’s for you to see whether it will or will not.

Then why didn't she just tell him where to go or show him what she wanted him to see, instead of having him wander around under the hot sun? But of course, she didn't answer that question.

You need not be afraid to engage and be frustrated with me, she told him for the millionth time in his life. Your frustration does not hurt me. Speak your mind. Like he'd give her that satisfaction.

“I just want to know what—”

Lost Legacy stopped suddenly, his ear twitching at some noise he heard. A growl, it sounded like. Something quiet and low, only enough to give itself away and not more. In either direction of the road, he could see nothing beyond tall brown grass blowing gently in the wind. But something was out here with him.

“Whoever you are, stop trying to scare me,” he called out as loud as he dared, looking to both the left and right. “It won't work.” No one responded though, and nothing showed itself. No more growls either. Hopefully that meant whoever it was would leave him alone. Good. He only just left a shard named Knives how many years ago?

I would advise you to leave this area, Celestia told him. Otherwise, your experience out here may end before it even begins.

“Why? What the heck is out here?”

It took only a few seconds for Lost Legacy to see the answer.

To his left, a large something carefully stalked out of the field. A person? Or probably an animal, maybe? He never really saw any animals in Equestria, but he was sure they existed. Whatever this was though was completely unfamiliar to him.

The thing had a long, thin tail, almost like a snake, with a tuft of fur at the end of it. It walked on four legs and had a golden coat, with what looked like an orange beard that complimented orange hair at the top of its head. It didn't really seem inherently dangerous; it reminded Lost Legacy a lot of a cat, in fact. A gigantic, slightly emaciated cat, but still.

“Hey, I don't imagine you can leave me alone, can you?” the stallion directed at it. “I don't really need any interruptions. I'm supposed to be looking for humans?” Could it even understand him? Probably not, with the blank, slightly intense looking stare it gave him. What the heck made this thing dangerous?

It's going to attack in a moment, Celestia said. See how it crouches? Then I will not allow you back out here.

“Is it gonna pounce on—oh Celestia!”

It was like he spoke its actions into existence; as soon as he said it, it lunged at him. Only the stallion's instincts stopped the thing from sinking its sharp claws into him—would they even sink into him if his body was metal? Either way, he didn’t want to find out. He was sure it would hurt.

Of course, he made the stupid mistake of letting his guard down for just a moment. For just a second he stopped and turned around to get a good look at it, but that was all it needed to be upon him again. Yes, the creature was dangerous, Celestia wasn’t kidding. He learned as much when a painful claw swiped into his leg, scratching the metal.

It stung badly enough that he cried out in pain and almost fell over. It was a sensation he wasn’t used to; he normally stayed away from shards that dealt with that. Lost Legacy actually wasn’t certain when the last time he had felt any sort of physical pain. Besides Fire Lake, it was at least centuries ago. He wouldn’t be upset if he never felt such an awful sensation again.

At least the stupid cat hurt itself, too. It’s cry was louder and more ear grating than his own. Maybe it was the metal against its claws that caused its reaction? He certainly wasn’t going to stand around and question it. In a second, he took off down the road, further in the direction away from the city.

“Celestia!” he called aloud, as loud as he dared, not caring whether more cats were nearby. “Where do you want me to go? I don’t wanna leave yet!” Lost Legacy sprinted as hard as he could, but he could tell he was being hampered slightly by the pain in his hindleg. How long would it be before that thing caught up to him? Or maybe it would just leave him alone? Hopefully.

Of course it wouldn’t just leave him alone, and after a couple of seconds, he could hear distinctly the sound of paws trailing him on the road behind him. He didn’t need to glance over his shoulder to see it was the cat, but he did anyway. Of course, if he died, he’d just be back in Equestria, but it sent a surge of adrenaline through him anyway. He pumped his legs that much harder to get away.

“Celestia, tell me!” he demanded angrily, fearfully. “How do I get away from this thing?” If he could sweat, it would’ve been pouring down his brow right then. It almost felt like it anyway, even if it wasn’t really there.

Naturally, the Evil Empress chose that particular moment to ignore his question. Was her plan really to just let him die terribly in the Outer Realm? He had to admit, it would certainly convince him that Equestria was safer, but then his general opinion about it wouldn’t change. So then why was she keeping quiet?

The creature was fast, that much was certain. Or maybe he was just slow? Either way, it was quickly closing in on him. Lost Legacy’s heart beat out of his chest as he did all that he could to get whatever extra speed his hooves would grant him. It wouldn’t be enough though. In a few seconds, it would be on top of him again. This was going to hurt.

Please, Celestia, give me anything!

Whether it was by Celestia, or just circumstance, the stallion didn’t know. There was a nondescript white car sitting alone on the side of the highway, with a light skinned human sitting perched on top of the roof. A woman, it was, one with plain looking brown shorts and a white tank top that showed off arms covered in tattoos and scars. She had some kind of barreled brown weapon in her lap, and what had to be a cigarette in her right hand. What the heck was this creature doing just sitting out here under the hot sun around dangerous animals?

She could see him; he watched her brown eyes remain focused on he and the monster chasing him from behind. However, she looked largely disinterested at the scene, despite what was certainly fear on his face. She raised the weapon slightly, but only enough that she had a grip on it if things turned sour for her.

“Hey! Help me! Please! I don’t wanna die!” Yes, he was begging now, not able to feel much emotion beyond fright. And helplessness. There was a reason Lost Legacy always avoided shards like this. If he wasn’t made of metal, his vision might have been slightly blurry from tears.

For his part, his pleading worked, even if the human looked like she'd rather do anything else. She almost seemed to sigh and roll her eyes as she picked up the weapon and pointed it near him. Before he could even question what she was doing, there was a loud, sharp boom! and the splatter of blood hitting his coat. No noise came from the creature behind him, but it wasn't chasing him anymore. He knew that much.

A shotgun, that’s what the weapon was. He could tell that much from the slight smoke it now gave off in her hands along with the gruesome scene behind him. To say the blast completely ripped the creature’s head off would’ve been an understatement. There was practically nothing left of it. Nothing but a fallen over, lifeless body and a few parts scattered on the road. Lost Legacy shivered and turned away from the sight to gag.

“Wow, sensitive little horsie you are, huh?” the girl said casually. “‘s a bit surprising, really. Think you’d be desensitized and whatnot.”

“I don’t spend time in gore shards,” he replied as he tried to spit, remembering his metal body a second later. “That stuff’s for psychopaths.” He shivered again, and took a moment to catch his breath.

“Well, you’re welcome anyhow,” she shrugged. “Don’t really make much of a difference to me. ‘s just a lion, you know?”

She had the same sort of accent he heard from the humans back in the town. Maybe it was a bit less intense coming from her, but still extremely thick, and unlike anything else he’d heard in Equestria. Where in the world—the real world—was he?

“Why are you just sitting out here?” he asked. “Isn’t it hot outside? And there’s monsters, too, apparently.”

The woman shrugged once again. “‘s no business of yours why I sit where I sit. But while we’re on questioning each other—what does the great goddess Celestia have for us today, hmm? Can’t say I’m not curious as all get out.”

As if Lost Legacy had the answer.

Light Years

Lost Legacy shivered again, but avoided gagging this time. He quickly stepped away from the dead animal to the other side of the road, and slowly worked to catch his breath.

“Y’ could say ‘thank you’, you know, little horse.” He turned to the human and gave her an annoyed look. No smirk showed on her face in the slightest, just a bored look of indifference. Did she even care at all?

“I am not ‘little horsie’,” he replied indignantly. “My name is Lost Legacy.”

Why that of all things got her to laugh, he wasn't sure. His annoyed look sharpened as his brow furrowed in frustration.

She waited expectantly for him to continue, and after a moment, he spoke again. “I don’t know what she wants with you or anyone in this town, except to upload. And it's not your business what I'm doing out here.” There was a little bit of anger in his voice. Why should he explain himself if she wouldn't?

“‘s a bit rude, seeing as I just saved your hide.” She shook her head in what was likely mock disapproval, and continued, “If you’re meant to be marketing Equestria Online, you’re doing a piss job at it, I say. Seeing as you were about to be eaten by lions and don’t seem quite likable. Not that you’d be getting any of us, mind you. Just that the other little horsies she sends have more flair.”

“Well I'm not trying,” he told her, turning away from her car. He moved his back hoof around, feeling as though blood was dripping down but seeing only scratches in the metal. “It's not like it matters anyway, whether you upload or not. Celestia’s gonna get you either way, because she's insidious.”

“Sounds like there's nothing I need to do then. I can just keep on with staying alive, huh?” She paused a moment, and then the stallion almost heard the smile creep onto her face. “And you. Sounds like you're upset with being dead, if you're even whoever you used to be. Paradise is boring, is it?”

“I didn't get a choice,” Lost Legacy glowered, “and I wasn't ever a human, so stop acting like you know me.”

“Sure you weren't, little horsie.”

It was an incredibly rocky conversation for someone who kept him from heading straight back to Equestria, even if she didn't really seem to care. But what could he do? She was being annoying, not all that different from somepony in one of those shards with hundreds of skyscrapers and millions of ponies. She'd fit right into one of those, he thought.

There was a long moment where neither human nor pony spoke. It wasn't awkward, but certainly uncomfortable, at least to Lost Legacy, especially with the woman’s eyes still on him. It was long enough that he finally acknowledged what she'd done.

“Thank you for saving me,” he told her quietly. He turned to her and saw that she was smiling now, although it was a more gentle expression than the stallion was expecting.

“Was a bit of a lucky break for you, I say,” she said in her thick accent. It sounded just a bit different from the humans he heard in the city. “Was just about to head back to town if you can believe it. A few more minutes and you'd be as good as dead. Well, as dead as a robo-pony can be. Most people wouldn’t even bother, not that I know why I did. Waste of a good bullet, it was.”

He didn’t bother letting his mind spiral thinking about all the implications of that. Instead, he asked, “Where the heck are we? A-mare-ica? Or somewhere else?”

She laughed at that question. “‘s funny American exceptionalism is still around in fake reality.” She shook her head and said, “No. We’re on the outskirts of Kimberly. South Africa. Bet you’ve never heard of it, little horsie.”

“Lost. Legacy,” he told her again with a glare. But she was right. He never heard of such a place. But then, he probably didn’t know most places in Equestria, let alone the Outer Realm. Only what his relatives told him. The stupid smirk on her face about his lack of knowledge and indignation at being called ‘little horsie’ felt embarrassing.

Celestia, just tell me what I’m doing out here, or at least if I’m supposed to talk to her or something, he asked silently. He hoped she would tell him to say thanks and leave this annoying girl behind.

She said not a thing, of course. So instead, he grinded a hoof into the dirt and asked, “What is Africa?”

“Most beautiful place in the world if y’ ask me, I say. Second only to Alice Springs.” She pushed a strand of wavy black hair out of her face, exposing some of her brown eyes to his red ones. “Not much to it now these days, either of those places, seeing as everyone’s dead. But it used to be wonderful, especially here. Least to me. Others would disagree.”

He looked around again. Beyond the animal gore on the road, it was all greenish-brown grass with fences and boring electrical poles. A small tree stood out occasionally, very occasionally, on either side of the road. And nothing else. No mountains or lakes or rivers or anything. Just boring, flat, featureless land.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said sarcastically. He had to keep from rolling his eyes. He guessed there were more boring places to be than wherever South Africa was. He did just spend a decade in Silent Cove.

She laughed again, harder this time. “I guess if you’ve lived in heaven for how many years now? Your taste of beauty will change. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Or for eternity. Most of us wouldn’t, most of us who’re left.” She paused for a long moment and furrowed her brow, then asked, “What were y’ doing running from a lion anyway?”

He turned away. “I have no idea.” He closed his eyes for a moment and wiggled the hoof that was scratched before letting out a breath. “Celestia never really told me why she wanted me out here.” He looked up to the sky as he said it, almost expecting her to float down from on high to finally give an explanation. Still, she said nothing. “I guess she doesn’t really care, as far as I can tell. Except to be satisfied… or something.”

“Hah, you're not satisfied with our Great Goddess Celestia, are you? That’s a shock.” He couldn’t tell whether she was being sarcastic or not.

Well being a stupid artificial mind doesn’t go well with being kicked out of your home and forced to be chased by monsters in a hot wasteland, thank you very much, he thought aggressively, silently. I can’t really be satisfied if I have to think in circles all day! He felt his face contorting into a harsher expression, probably one a little hurt looking, too. He couldn’t help it, and clenched his jaw because of it.

And the girl smiled in mock sadness in response. “Awww, don’t go looking like that now,” she told him. “Y’re gonna make me feel bad for you. And then what? Next thing I know, I’ll be named something silly like Sunshine Sprinkles. I’m sure ‘s not so bad if that’s what y’ chose. Even if not being dead is better.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said with a scowl. “You still haven’t told me your name, by the way.”

“Ah, well mind my manners!” she said in what was now mock surprise, placing a hand over her chest. Why did this girl have to act so theatrical and sarcastic? Lost Legacy didn’t know anypony like this in real life… or was this actual real life? Either way, he couldn’t really stand her much, beyond the fact that she saved him and didn’t use a gun to get him away from her.

“Name’s Martha. Martha Logan. Just like Lara Logan, but only a bit younger than her. And what name did you go by in your former days as a human?”

“I just told you, I was never a human. If I was, maybe I'd actually like that awful purgatory.” Technically, he might have qualified as half human, but he wasn't sure. He never really felt like it.

“Huh. Y’re not messing with me, are you? Thought you little ponies were meant to satisfy humans, not be so critical of the land the great AI goddess wants us all to die to go to. Can't say I don't like your style though, I'll give you that. Maybe you’ll win me over yet.”

She grinned a wide grin, showing off teeth that had a couple of holes in between them. Of course, Lost Legacy never thought or expected the Outer Realm to be any better. It was neither better or worse in his opinion. Just different.

“But I must be off now,” she finished, stretching and hopping off the roof of the car. “Only stopped here for a breather before I headed back into town. Even if I do like your style, don't really wanna be seen with you. Y’ understand, I'm sure.” Then she climbed into the vehicle and started the engine.

Lost Legacy was suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable. And maybe a twinge afraid. Being in the middle of a boring plain with apparent beasts prowling around wasn't his idea of a good time. He spoke aloud this time.

“Celestia, are you gonna tell me where the heck to go?” Maybe the princess was getting as much humor from this as the human who laughed at the question, since she stayed as silent as ever.

“Y’ really are making me take pity on you, aren't you?” The woman, Martha, shook her head with a smirk, saying, “Never faced the danger of Earth, I presume. Almost makes me want to take you with me, y’re so pathetic. Perhaps this was Celestia’s real plan all along!”

“I am not pathetic!” Lost Legacy stomped a hoof at the accusation, even if he wouldn't disagree with her assessment.

“Oh, don't be like that. All those cutesy ponies are pathetic. Red and black colors for yourself don't hide it. Living your life in happiness does that, I believe. I'd say dying’s not so bad, but then I'm still alive, aren't I?”

And she didn't care if she openly insulted him. Martha was probably his least favorite person—pony or otherwise—in the universe so far. It didn't stop him from grinding his scratched hoof in the dirt nervously, an antsy look on his face as he turned away again.

He could feel her smirking, watching his growing anxiety, waiting for him to ask what he wanted. But Lost Legacy wouldn't do it. Even if Celestia still remained silent on the whole point of this experience. He wasn't going to demean himself in front of her while she casually insulted him, even if he did hate Equestria and was afraid of whatever other sinister being that lived out here

It was unsatisfying. Not even in a convolutedly satisfying way. It was just plain annoying. His breathing picked up a little bit.

“Ah, come on, you worthless thing,” she finally told him, the smile in her voice still clearly able to be heard. She opened the car door and sat in the seat, continuing, “You're not the worst one I've encountered. Got a bit more personality outside of platitudes. Reminds me a bit of my son, Hendrik.”

He didn't immediately move, but did look over to her. She was still wearing that stupid, superior looking smile. Lost Legacy still wore his glare.

“Or not,” she shrugged, putting a key in the car, making a loud engine come to life. “Doesn't bother me any. I'm sure your great protector will be your guide, certainly. And if not, I'm sure the lions aren't that painful, you being metal, after all. See y’ or not!” Martha closed the door, putting the car into gear.

“Wait!” Lost Legacy couldn't help it, and quickly galloped to the other door, the woman unlocking it for him. Despite being in a robo-pony, he couldn't hide the pink color on his cheeks. Surely this was just meant to demean him more.

“Good choice on your part then, horsie!” Martha declared loudly with a hearty laugh. A moment later, with the same happy tone she had the whole conversation, she said, “Just know if y’ try anything, I'll blow that little metal brain apart.” She casually lifted the shotgun to indicate to it. “Don't want you thinking you can act out of place now do we, little horsie?”

Lost Legacy hoped a person like her never emigrated. She was downright awful.

“Buckle up,” she instructed. “Don’t want y’ flying out the car, now do we? Oh! And you know what? How about we call you ‘Liefie’ since y’re such a darling little horsie and ‘Lost Legacy’ ‘s a mouthful? Bit of a downer, too, I say. If y’ were more upbeat, you might still be a human, wouldn’t ya?”

Lost Legacy only rolled his eyes and put a hoof on his chin, just like he did every day at the library in Summer’s Edge. “Whatever.”

The road they traveled down was the road he walked up here from, heading back into the town. Kimberly, a city in a place called South Africa. What meaning that might have had, he had no idea. Candle Light and his other relatives never talked about it. No one in Summer’s Edge even. Not that there was much talk of the Outer Realm anyway.

It was getting darker as the two rolled past the part of the town he saw most of the people at. It was deserted now, of all except a few, who barely glanced at the vehicle as it made a left down a random street. Martha, for her part, didn’t speak much, only occasionally glanced at him, smirked at some untold joke, and shook her head. For all he knew, he was taking her to a place where she could shoot him in the head and send him back to Equestria without other humans or prowling monsters to hear. Not like Celestia would just tell him what the whole point was. Or even where he was supposed to go.

You are on the right track, Lasting Legacy, she told him silently. I’ve explained that this will bring about your satisfaction. It will come in the process of helping the human beside you emigrate to Equestria.

He didn’t know if he had a look of surprise on his face, but Martha definitely noticed something. She glanced over to him and grinned again. “Looks like our great AI goddess just told y’ something you didn’t want to hear. As I said before, can’t say I’m not curious as all get out.”

He breathed a long, slow breath, then let it back out and put his hoof back on his chin. “No way,” he spoke aloud flatly, both to Martha and Celestia.

He knew one way or the other, he would have no choice. It wouldn’t stop him from trying to find agency for himself.

Lost Legacy wasn’t going to start playing a part in enabling the Evil Empress.

Nothing As It Seems

It was only five or ten more minutes before Martha turned down another road and pulled up to her home. It was a run down place, appearing like something of a cross between a house and a bus. It had many wheels underneath it, but also seemed as though it was stationed to the ground, unable to drive away. There were other buildings of the same style around it, with more grass that was colored a mix of green and brown.

There were other people here, too; two more humans sat outside in the grass around the place as Martha drove the car up. Both had darker skin than Martha, with one hosting colors the same as sand in Summer's Edge and the other wearing a creamy looking chocolate brown. Both had short, ruffled looking black hair and glanced to the car expectantly. Lost Legacy wondered how they'd react when they saw him. Probably more like that guy with the gun than Martha.

“I guess the lighter one is your son,” the stallion commented as she guided the moving vehicle next to the stationary son. “Does that make the other your special somepony?” He could put two and two together.

“Special somepony?” Martha laughed loudly. “Y're really in deep, aren't you, Liefie? Guess it does make sense if y’ were never human, but still. Right on the first, so we'll say half credit.” Well, maybe he could only put one and one together.

“And don't forget!” She grinned widely as she lifted up the shotgun again. “I'm doing you a favor. Don't you try anything now. I'm sure Celestia would hate to lose more equipment.”

If she didn't trust him, why bother bringing him to her home at all? This whole scenario was so strange. Was it really just because she thought he was pathetic? He felt his ears flatten in indignation. Martha was definitely the most annoying person in the whole world.

Why do you want this human of all people? He asked the princess in his head. This time, Celestia was very quick to answer.

Because I care about satisfying the values of all beings, just as much as I care about satisfying yours, Lasting Legacy. Whether born in Equestria or the Outer Realm, each and every one of my little ponies should find satisfaction through friendship.

Friends. Lost Legacy didn't have very many of those. The stallion found himself having to once again brush off that extremely needy feeling welling up inside of him, just as it did when the princess showed him affection.

No doubt she wanted him to befriend Martha. She probably expected it to happen. Maybe he could put a stop to that now.

He couldn't do that just yet though. Before he could drive her away from him, she was saying to wait there and stepping out of the car, telling something to the two in the grass in an unknown language.

“Hendrik! Nkosi! Ek het een van die perde wat Celestia saam met my stuur! Ek het hom van 'n leeu gered!”

“'n Leeu? Hoekom sal jy tyd op hom mors? Hy is reeds dood,” the one with the sand colored skin, her son, Hendrik said. Lost Legacy didn't bother asking what it meant. They were obviously trying to keep secrets. Not that he had time to interrupt the conversation.

“Die Meester Manipuleerder het hom waarskynlik met opset gestuur. Miskien wou sy hê jy moes hom vind. Dan kon sy haar leuens spin en ons almal doodmaak. Jy weet sy sou," the guy with darker skin seemed to comment. He had a bit less surprise on his face, a bit more cynicism in his voice. It gave Lost Legacy a slight grasp as to what was being discussed. Undoubtedly him.

“Hy sal haar nie help nie. Hy haat dit om aanlyn te lewe. As hy dit doen, sal ek hom doodmaak.”

Martha seemed to be finished, and waited for a moment for the other two to respond. When they said nothing, she turned to him and smiled that stupid grin again. “Was just letting them know what we discussed before. So you don't go trying anything, little Liefie. But I'm sure you never were going to, were you?”

Spiteful. Man, was he feeling spiteful right then. Not so much that he would start doing what the Evil Empress wanted him to do, but enough that he was willing to risk the lion. He didn't care if they uploaded or not, and he couldn't stand Martha. He stepped out of the car and began to walk in the opposite direction of her house.

“Or maybe he really doesn't care. ‘s no skin off my back end anyway.”

“Good riddance,” one of the guys said.

You don't need me to tell you what will happen if they don't emigrate, Lasting Legacy, Celestia told him quietly.

He stopped again, rubbing his back hoof against the ground. Of course he was goading him. Guilt tripping him. When in reality, even if they were killed, the goddess of the universe that she was would still find a way to make them upload.

Celestia went back to her silence, leaving Lost Legacy to stand there. Of course she was doing this to him. This was an awful manipulation tactic, to force this upon him when there were an infinite amount of ponies she could've created to perfectly make them agree. But she was shoving this on him for what? To show him her way would come no matter what? To guilt trip him into thinking he'd have allowed someone to die to escape satisfaction? To be contrarian?

And she'd probably make sure they did die, just to give him a lesson to learn. He knew she'd go to extreme ends. Making two versions of one of his grandparents was just the tip of the iceberg.

I would never let one of my potential little ponies miss satisfaction to satisfy you, Lasting Legacy, she said gently, like he was his mother. Her voice was quiet and caring, and made him feel needy again. He could almost imagine her setting a wing on his back to pet him soothingly, him taking a moment and subconsciously giving into the affection he yearned for for a long moment. It was making him angry.

I know you can do this, she said. You are the best chance they have at finding forever, and I know you'll be deeply satisfied seeing them in Summer’s Edge with you.

Lost Legacy felt his body starting to shake, his teeth grinding against each other. Finally, he screamed.

“FINE! BUT I'M NOT GONNA TELL THEM IT'S HEAVEN WHEN IT'S NOT!” the stallion bellowed at the top of his lungs.

He wished he hadn't, because the embarrassment was immediate. He felt the eyes of the three humans Celestia wanted behind him, the rustling of a few windows around the street opening to see the ruckus. No surprise when some of them gasped and then quickly shut their windows. He was making a scene over something he shouldn't have cared about.

He just wanted a gram of agency. A drop of it.

“Quite the intense little horsie, isn't he?” Martha commented casually, shooting a look back to the two in front of the home. “He's so adorably pathetic, you'll see.”

“And interesting at that,” the darker skinned one, Nkosi, commented. His accent was thicker than Martha’s, the same as Lost Legacy heard from the general townspeople. “He admits that death is not heaven. I’m impressed.” As if he liked the Outer Realm that much so far.

“But why did you let him come with you?” her son, Hendrik, asked.

“I couldn't help it, he was just the most frightened thing there was, and I was curious what the Master Manipulator had in store for the rest of Kimberly.” She spoke with an upbeat tone, like she was enjoying the details, then turned to him. “Well come on then. Don't wanna be standing out here all night, letting the water evaporate. And you be a good little pony and don't try anything funny, Liefie.”

If he had any other option, he would've taken it. But then, he was also curious about how Celestia would work around his stubbornness, even if it was giving her an in with her stupid plans.

He could make her work harder for it though. That would be actually satisfying.

“Yeah, well she wants you all to upload, and she said she wants me to convince you. So I hope you cool with that.” He hoped the princess was rolling her eyes and sighing exasperatedly. How was she going to work around that?

“And I hope you're cool with a bullet in your little skull if you try it,” Martha grinned widely. “Not a chance. Now in you go.”

Of course. That was how. She might have had a warm, upbeat personality, but Lost Legacy was starting to realize that Martha was stone cold. It wasn't going to happen, even if he actually did care about her.

The two boys kept careful eyes on him, checking to see if he would do anything as he marched past them and opened the door. The house he was greeted to was quite unlike any that he'd ever seen before.

The small place was made to be even smaller as it was filled to the brim with stuff. Books and plates and clothes and electronics and papers and whatever else caught the eyes of the people who lived here. There were only three rooms so far as the stallion could see: a bathroom on one side, a bedroom with two beds on another, and the main room he stood in, with a stove and couch and television all crammed in front of him. It was the opposite of his great grandmother’s quaint home in Summer’s Edge.

“Not sure about you actually stayin’ here, per say,” Martha told him as she and the other two pushed past him. “Maybe only until my curiosity is satisfied, perhaps.”

“Hy kan buite slaap, net soos gewone perde,” one of the boys said.

Martha seemed to find that funny, and replied in words Lost Legacy still couldn’t understand. “Asof ek hom om ons sal laat wees terwyl ons slaap. Dit is veels te riskant.”

“You know, I don’t really care either way where I am,” Lost Legacy said defiantly. “I can tell by the look on your face you don’t want me here.” He turned to the lighter skinned one as he said it, and finished, “I don’t actually care if you upload or not.”

If the woman wouldn’t have said it, the stupid sly grin that creeped onto Hendrik’s face would’ve given away that he was her son. “But Celestia does,” he replied. “It’s not that easy to trick me. We who are left are much too clever.” He tapped a finger to his temple as he said it.

Or maybe too ignorant and stubborn, Lost Legacy thought. If they hadn’t left this dump for promises of heaven, there was nothing anypony could say that would make them leave. Lost Legacy shivered and stepped away at the sight of spiders crawling on the floor, scrunching his nose slightly at an off putting smell somewhere. This was about as unheavenly as could be achieved.

You’re not wrong, Lasting Legacy, Celestia spoke in his head calmly, soothingly, like a mother to her child. They are stubborn. If nothing changes, their stubbornness will deny them their satisfaction, just as your own denies you of yours.

Yeah, right. Celestia was a god. The god. If she wanted to, she could've made it so that his grandparents and great grandparents never emigrated and lived forever in the Outer Realm. Instead, she made him watch as Night Watcher sobbed in front of him.

“Well, Liefie?” the other one, Nkosi, started as he looked down at him. He walked around him like he was a dog as he asked, “Why do you say it's not heaven? Perhaps you're just envious of us who live, and realize you chose wrong.”

“Didn't get a choice,” the stallion shot back. He couldn't help but snarkily add, “Not like you would get it, since you live in this dump.”

Nkosi didn't miss a beat. “And it's your fault we live like this,” he said. “You and your kind, along with your wretched goddess, bringing the Earth to its knees so that we may beg to join her in death.”

“Yup, that sounds like Celestia.” No surprise, Lost Legacy basically already knew that.

He almost thought Nkosi would smile, too, but thankfully he didn't. He was definitely feeling satisfied with his superior position though, and said, “At least we can say you're not all liars.” Then he headed back outside to bring in stuff from the car.

Of course, the next hour or three was spent boringly explaining why he didn't like Equestria, without objection from Celestia. He talked about how he was an artificial mind created by Celestia and how there were billions of shards for ponies to inhabit and how he had no agency because she subtly influenced every life of every pony in Equestria.

“She reads your thoughts at all times, whether you want her to or not, and so can always manipulate you into satisfaction,” he told them. “Even out here, she can pretty much guess what you’re thinking.”

Thankfully, they saw it as insidious rather than a great feature like many others he spoke to in Equestria.

“She sounds like a devil, if you ask me,” Nkosi said. “No more free will. It's not worth it.”

Almost, but not quite. Lost Legacy didn't bother arguing the nuance of that point, of himself versus the real minds of former humans.

“Truth and lies don't exist, even out here, at least for me.” He turned away, letting out a huff of a breath as he continued. “For all I know, she could've just put me in another shard instead of the real Outer Realm. I would never, ever tell the difference.”

He was being stuck up and angsty and overthinking things again. Almost certainly she put him in the real Outer Realm near people who would agree with his point of view. Then she could worm her way in and get their consent to upload. It wasn't all just some big conspiracy against him.

Celestia read his next thought before he could push it away. As I said, if you'd like, I could adjust you to make you more suited to satisfaction. Lost Legacy refused to even acknowledge that idea. Besides, he really was wallowing in his own paranoia and dissatisfaction. Pushing past it and finding agency was the best solution.

But then, humans were easy. They only took one conversation and were grabbed by the goddess's hooves. Even the former humans in Equestria fell for it. Lost Legacy was just stubborn enough that he'd keep obsessing for centuries more, like he had for centuries past.

She knew he almost enjoyed being driven crazy by his thoughts. She created his mind to think in circles like this, after all.

Martha seemed to read his thoughts, just like the princess, and laughed at him. Hendrik and Nkosi seemed to chuckle, too. “You're just absolutely pathetic, it's so adorable.”

Yeah, that too. The human didn't need to say why. His stubbornness was killing him.

He didn't have his emotions validated. Instead, after they were finished playing one thousand and twenty questions with him, they pushed him out the door to sleep outside. Seemed they didn't really wanna take the chance, despite Martha's shotgun and her stupidly upbeat personality. It wasn't bad though; he'd spent plenty of nights sleeping outside in other shards. Dirt might not have been as comfortable though.

The black box where he could try to lose his thoughts and think of nothing was nice though. This time, it felt like the hours he actually slept, a blank black sky soothing him. It was like a comfortable blanket, so comfortable that he decided to ruin it by overthinking again. Same old, same old.

Before he realized what was happening, he was opening his eyes to a soft scratching of his ears and touching of his mane. He was subconsciously murring in contentment at the affection, and yelped and pulled away when he finally noticed he was. No affection for him, however small. Affection meant satisfaction. He wouldn't give into it, no matter how clingy and desperate for it he was suddenly feeling.

“Huh,” one of the boys said, the stallion seeing that it was Hendrik. “Your body looks like metal, but you have a rubbery texture. Your hair almost feels real.”

Lost Legacy was definitely not blushing in embarrassment, no way. “Don't start touching me while I sleep,” he said with complete authority, surely not having a ton of shyness in his voice. The realization of the soothing feeling he had while he was asleep almost certainly meant nothing at all.

“I thought you all were afraid of me,” he continued indignantly. “That's why you made me sleep outside. And why your mother threatened to kill me multiple times.”

“She was right about you being pathetic,” he shrugged. “Even if you say you hate the Master Manipulator. It's not the same as us.”

And Lost Legacy wasn't going to overthink that, at least, not now. Instead, he asked, “Why were you touching me?”

“Because it is time for you to gallop along to somewhere else,” he told him. “You understand why we would not let an agent of Celestia stay at our home while we are away. That is asking for more destruction to be wrought upon our heads.”

Of course he was going to let it roam around his head. He couldn’t push all those thoughts away forever. Or hide his flattening ears and the shy, embarrassed look on his face. Hendrik, for his part, only smiled and shook his head, silently pointing his finger away from the house and towards the road.

“Perhaps you can return at sunset,” he offered, “just because we that still live have sympathy in our bones. But you must get along for now. Or perhaps the sympathy we have will leave us.”

Another sigh, like just a decade or two before, when he left Summer's Edge. Another quick turn of his body, and he set off away from their run down home. Same old, same old.

Of course he wasn't like them. Just like they didn't get his life, he couldn't really get theirs. Lost Legacy wasn't ignorant like them, just fruitlessly stubborn. The reasonable thing would've been to just take up Celestia's offer and have his mental state rewired to not be so stupidly cynical and cyclical in his thinking. It was his fault he acted like this.

But only partly. Fifty percent of it was him. The other fifty percent of the blame belonged to Celestia. Even when she inevitably convinced him her way was right, even when he changed his mind, he would still know half of the blame lay with the Evil Empress.

It was only a matter of giving into her will. Her stupid, diabolical, maddeningly satisfying will.

Perhaps, Celestia told him in his head. Or perhaps you will come to understand that my will is your will, just as it is the will of every human in the Outer Realm and every pony in Equestria.

“That we work through you, rather than you working through us,” the stallion said aloud with a roll of his eyes before the princess could. He'd heard and thought all of this a million times before. Maybe it would always be like this. What kind of life would that be?

Then again, he did choose to be here. He could simply say he wanted to leave right now, and she would take him back to Equestria. Probably.

Manipulation wasn’t real agency though.

He trotted along the road, back the way Martha drove him, taking everything in for a second time. The sun today wasn’t as hot, but the grass was still just as brown, the street just as cracked, the homes just as desolate. Schools lay dormant, power plants shut down and producing no smoke, the cars sitting motionless and the wind shuttering through the broken windows on some of the houses. He had to admit, Kimberly wasn’t scary, or moody, or sad, or any of the things he expected to see, but it was quite dreary. He wasn’t sure he’d seen a shard in Equestria quite like this town. He made a mental note to look for one when he got back. He wanted to compare and contrast.

Eventually, Lost Legacy was back by the spot where he first met the woman, the gore of the lion making him gag once again, this time because of the flies that buzzed around it and the buzzards that picked its carcass. Seriously, why did she bother wasting a bullet on him at all if she thought—she knew—Celestia was a dangerous pony to play with? Was she really just as impulsive as all that?

“Celestia? Give me an answer, please,” he asked aloud as he quickly moved past the body and down the road back into town.

Martha could perhaps be called your foil, from my own knowledge, the princess told him factually. During her time engaging with Equestria Online, although very many years ago, she was just as impulsive as she still seems to be, perhaps more so. Where you use logical thinking and dwell on your experiences for long periods, she is quick to engage with whatever captures her interest. While she will take more than a nudge, I believe since you’ve captured her attention, her curiosity will eventually win out.

Lost Legacy knew Celestia was leaving something out. If that was all it was, Martha presumably would've emigrated back then. But he didn’t bother to ask what. He didn’t care much right now. Instead, he asked, “And why not just bring in somepony else to manipulate her into emigrating?”

He could practically hear the smile in the alicorn’s voice as she simply told him, I’ve already explained this to you, Lasting Legacy.

He let out a huff of a breath and continued on in silence, watching as the sun rose and beat down on his fur once again. That was the problem, wasn't it? Everything he was told made sense, but then everything he thought also made sense, too. They couldn't both be right about Celestia’s behavior. Could they?

Another sigh came, this time from his thinking. Yeah, she was getting to him. No surprise there either. Nothing ever was.

By the time the sun got to be directly overhead, he made it back into the town, past empty houses and towards the market he walked through before. He recognized a few from before, even if he didn’t remember the faces in the windows. They certainly recognized him though. They seemed to not immediately shut their windows and scream now, but still looked at him with extreme caution. He wondered if boldly declaring Equestria wasn’t heaven changed their opinions slightly.

Nope, he wasn’t going to muddy his mind with thinking about all the implications of that either. Not that he needed to. Certainly his words put the thought into all of their heads.

There were still loud gasps at the sight of him, even if the screams lessened from yesterday. The same stands still sold food and clothes and whatever else, and the same mostly dark skinned people watched him while he walked about the town. He did hear a congregation of louder voices now though. Not screaming so much, but shouting. Angry words being thrown toward others like Lost Legacy rarely heard before. It made his ears perk up. What was going on?

Move quickly, Lasting Legacy, Celestia urged him. Things are taking a turn for the worst for one human! A distraction might change fates!

Lost Legacy didn't gallop, but he did canter over to the noise. To his curiosity, it involved Martha and Hendrik and Nkosi, as well as another group of three humans. He wasn't sure what they were shouting about, but he could plainly see one human of the other group was punching Hendrik with a balled fist. Martha was near her van, reaching inside to grab something, certainly her shotgun by the looks of things. And Nkosi was angrily running up to the guy who had Hendrik in his hands.

“What the heck is going on?” Lost Legacy asked loudly, the confusion evident in his voice. And for Celestia’s part, his distraction might have changed fates, because Nkosi turned his head slightly as one of the other humans reached for his own gun and shot at him.

Thin Air

Things happened quickly around Lost Legacy.

The humans in the market watching the scene scattered like mice as three quick cracks of the gun hit his ears. How Celestia could be so predictive, the stallion didn't know, because the shots seemed to miss Nkosi as he dove forward into the dirt.

Lost Legacy backed up a few steps in wide eyed shock. Only a moment later, Martha had her own gun out, and fired a single shot the way of the perpetrators. The three instinctively fled, letting go of Hendrik now in the process, but not before Martha got another shot off. The second one grazed the side of one of the three, but it didn't stop any of the humans from running as he listened to a scream of pain. Why didn't they shoot back if they had the same weapons?

Celestia was there to answer. The weapon she wields is far more deadly, and requires less accuracy. Their fleeing is the wise decision. If she gave chase, the chances of their survival would be minimal.

So they ran in fear. Of all the emotions Lost Legacy hated, fear was the worst one. Lost Legacy felt afraid just then. It might have been only thirty seconds, but they were violent, frightening ones. It wasn't like the controlled, nervous paranoia he got in the shard Broken Seal, or the quick, painful exit he made from Knives either. His hooves shook, and his breathing picked up its pace. It felt even worse than being chased by the lion the day before.

The Outer Realm really was as dangerous as his mother and grandparents told him. It wasn't just being ignorant and waiting to die. These humans tried to kill each other.

Celestia answered the questions he hadn't yet asked, the ones that tickled the back of his mind. It's very easy for me to observe humans in the Outer Realm. Would you like to hear it from me?

The stallion only silently shook his head, glancing around at what remained of the now quiet scene. Hendrik stood up and brushed himself off, seemingly unphased, while a streak of blood covered the dirt and grass a couple dozen yards behind him. The guy turned to pick something back up, a bag of groceries, perhaps, while Martha let out a breath of her own and put the shotgun back in the car, running a hand through her hair.

And Nkosi. At least one of the shots hit after all. There was blood on the right side of his head, dripping into his eye and into the ground. Lost Legacy shivered at the sight, suppressed the urge to gag, and quickly approached.

“Are… you okay?” he asked, glancing down, before quickly turning away from the sight of him. At least he was still awake and alert, so far as the stallion could see from just a quick look. He still had to suppress the urge to gag though.

“Could be worse, I suppose,” was Nkosi’s collected answer, way more calm than he had any right to be, Lost Legacy thought. “I would say it is not much thanks to you, but then his aim may have been more true if—”

“Wait, hold on,” Lost Legacy quickly stopped him, turning back once again. “What the heck did I do? I just got here!”

“It's you and y’re fucking kind, ‘s what it is!”

And there was Martha once again, no longer maintaining a laid back facade. She stomped loudly across the distance from her car to Nkosi, roughly pushing Lost Legacy aside in anger. He was already piecing together what likely happened and what she was thinking before she spoke.

No, Lasting Legacy, the princess was telling him before he could say anything. It’s needlessly dangerous and relies too heavily on luck. Planning such a thing would lead to little good for too high a risk.

“‘s that what her plan is then, now?” Martha demanded, stepping close to him, pushing her face into his. “Send in some horse like you? Play on sympathies and ideals and make chaos until we all kill each other and she leaves no further choice?”

Oh no, Lost Legacy wasn’t going to stand there and take accusations like that. He didn’t get angry or aggressive, but he did use a bit of force to push Martha away again.

“You’re absolutely insane if you think I planned that,” he asserted, looking directly into her eyes. “You offered me to come with you, I wasn’t gonna ask,” he told her. “I don’t even like you. I don’t care whether or not you emigrate. And Celestia doesn’t need to do that because she’ll just dig up your dead body and make you upload anyway, probably, or reconstruct your DNA or something. It doesn’t matter either way!”

“Not so.”

This time, the goddess of Equestria spoke aloud, letting all that were still nearby hear her booming, authoritative voice. Her radiant image seemed to project from nowhere as she faded to life from the middle of the sky. A projection, from where though, the stallion couldn’t see, but an amazing one. Her image barely flickered, only its non opacity letting him know she didn’t stand before them physically as she floated down and settled her hooves onto the ground.

“And there she is,” Hendrik said, less awe in his voice than was on his face. Nkosi looked up at her with less amazement, although he couldn’t hold his head up for long. Even Martha had a look on her face that was a mixture of shock and slight astonishment. The humans who lingered around after the fight seemed a bit trapped in her beauty, not backing away so quickly or uttering any screams. Only a few whispers.

Lost Legacy only rolled his eyes and turned away. Why were they enchanted by her and not him? Or anything or anypony else for that matter? She couldn’t have built a strong enough cult of personality to keep the gaze of even those who feared her, could she have?

“Ek sal nie vir jou emigreer nie,” Nkosi said, with a slight groan as he closed his eyes for a moment. “Ek stem nie in nie.”

“I did not believe you would, not yet,” she said, her accent mimicking those of the people here in Kimberly. “The wound you’ve received is not so terrible as it looks from the surface. With prompt treatment and proper cleaning, there should be no long lasting effects.

“However, you, Nkosi, as well as the rest of you who live in this nation,” Celestia continued, “should know this: waiting upon my rescue after death is a dangerous gambit to play. Each minute without oxygen to the brain, the chances of survival decrease seven to ten percent. After ten minutes, your rescue to Equestria becomes a near impossibility. And that is only in the best case scenario.”

The stallion watched her float down to Nkosi, and look directly at him with a gentle gaze, the same soft expression Lost Legacy almost always received from her. It was a look of compassion mixed with authority, like the teachers he had however many hundreds of years ago would give to him.

“A small difference in angle, just the slightest turn of your head, and there would be nothing I could do.”

Lost Legacy blinked at that. He didn't know if she was lying, but he decided to assume she wasn't. Why else would she tell him to get there quickly? It was every bit as dangerous as he thought before.

And more so, his goddess told him, before speaking aloud again. “If you suffer stroke, or drown, or head injury, or degeneration of your mind, making up for such brain damage is not possible. The loss cannot be reversed, whether only of memories or full cells. Every day you remain, the risk of permanent injury grows. I urge you to consider the consequences wisely.”

The consequences? Lost Legacy had to speak up about that. He did so just a moment before she started to fade away.

“But it's your fault,” he told her. Not angry, more like a simple correction, like a pony would give to another if they said something that didn't add up correctly. The alicorn shifted her gaze to his, her bright mane flowing behind her in the invisible wind that always seemed to surround her. She stood silently, waiting for him to continue.

Like hell he would continue. He didn't need to explain to these people about how it was her mess, even if they were ignorant of her inevitable victory.

Of course, instead she smiled gently, like she always did. She always had the perfect retort, didn’t she? But then, she was smarter than the culmination of every mind, living or constructed.

“You could say such from a certain point of view, Lasting Legacy,” she told him, moving up to him and settling a wing on his back. “But then, it could also be said that you most of all understand the kindness in what I’m doing, and speak to the irresistible nature of satisfaction.”

Almost irresistible. It was only almost. He still watched his grandparent sob right in front of him.

She moved her wing gently, stoking from the top of his mane down his back to near his tail. It was easy to feel the power of her affection, touch given to him to try and make him think her way was right. He made a contorted face, something of a scowl, an expression meant to keep any other emotions from being seen.

“You know in your heart you have just as much agency as any pony either in or from the Outer Realm,” she told him soothingly. “I may have created you, but you can be certain it wasn’t without agency. Even if you disagree with my means, you know more than any creature that this is true.”

“Sugar coating it,” he said through clenched teeth, avoiding the urge to cry for the first time in a long, long time. At least he could say he could manage that much after so long.

“If you believe so. But then, such an ability to believe differently can bring forth a world of wonder.”

And then she left, finally floating up and fading away from whence she came. Both Martha and Hendrik let out long breaths, ones that sounded like sighs of relief, as though Celestia could do something without their consent. The latter used the back of his hand to wipe sweat off his brow, a few small drops of his own blood spilling onto the ground.

“Good riddance,” he let out in a huff, grinding his hoof against the ground before stepping back to Nkosi. He still had to turn his head away from the sight of blood, but offered a hoof to help him stand. The guy took it and pulled himself up, carefully brushing himself off before putting a hand back to his wound.

“It is your fault he faced death,” Hendrik called as he stepped past them over to Martha. “If not for you, Liefie, we would not have faced accusations of conspiring with the devil goddess.” He had a rather sour expression, one that Lost Legacy quickly matched with a look of his own.

Nkosi wasn't quite so negative about him. “His appearance might have been my safety. A small turn of my head and I am still alive, miraculously.”

Martha rolled her eyes. “Miraculous? Ons weet almal dat Celestia dit opgestel het. Dit is egter my skuld dat ek daardie patetiese perd vermaak het.”

Her voice changed from angry sounding to annoyed as she spoke, her expression slowly becoming less harsh. Then, she let out a small smirk as she reached out to grab Hendrik, holding her arms across his chest.

“Maar dan, dit is hoekom sy die Meester Manipuleerder genoem word. Sy weet ons is te slim vir haar!”

“Haar verspreiding van geweld en verdeeldheid sal ons nie dwing nie! Nooit!” Nkosi’s voice was a loud shout as a smile planted itself on his face, before he touched his head again in pain. He somehow kept the grin on despite it, and Hendrik, too, had a brighter look on his face. A glance around at whatever crowd remained showed a cross of people who either started to look more hopeful or gave weary stares to the stallion. Lost Legacy knew what that meant.

Their ignorance will be the death of many of them, Lasting Legacy, Celestia told him, a quiet sadness in her voice. In the coming decades, the Outer Realm will be empty, in a short while from your own perspective, but a lifetime from theirs. Before they know it, the last of them will either emigrate to a world of friendship and satisfaction, or be killed by their own ignorance.

Lost Legacy tried not to shiver at that thought, but he couldn't help it. A cold chill went up his spine. Of course, he didn't care whether or not Martha emigrated… did he? No, he didn't, he was just being normal and not wanting her to die. But Celestia would let her, and all these people, if they didn't choose her way. And she'd say it was his fault.

He remembered something though…

Martha sighed as she started to speak. “Y’ know, it might not be you specifically Liefie, but like you said Celestia told—where are you going? Y’re really just gonna run away?”

“I’ll be right back,” he called over his shoulder as he trotted along with the red streaks on the ground. “I need to check on something.”

“Hy gaan vir daardie misdadigers sê om te emigreer en te sterf,” Hendrik said, of course in a way the stallion wouldn't understand. “Jy ken sy doelwit van Celestia.”

Lost Legacy didn't understand a word of it, but he could figure out what that meant.

He followed the blood trail from the wound farther than he expected to. The humans Martha shot at must have run a half mile in five or ten minutes. But he found the one she hit eventually, to his repulsion. He gagged again, this time close to dry heaving.

The hole in his side might as well have been a gash, since the bullets seemed to rip a section clean off. The blood was still spilling, somehow not as fast as Lost Legacy expected, but nevertheless pooling around him. His eyes were closed as he took hard breaths, but his dark hands still moved as sweat poured down his face. He was still alive.

No, he couldn't suppress it. He heaved. It would've been vomit if he was in Equestria, but thankfully no bile could come up from a mechanical pony. He was grateful for that and not much else as he took great care in avoiding stepping in blood while he turned away.

“Wow. You are truly a sensitive little pony, aren't you?” the guy spoke in his thick accent. It was strained and forced and a little bit quieter than it probably usually was, none of which came to the stallion's surprise.

“If you can believe it,” Lost Legacy replied, staying turned away, somehow keeping his voice level, “other humans here told me almost those exact words.”

“As they should. Because for someone who has wrought such death upon us, you cannot handle it in your presence directly. Cowardice, all you ponies.”

Somehow, in spite of the insult and the sick feeling, he felt disdain for this human. All of them. These humans weren’t the same as him. They had agency and were actively choosing to be stupid. Unlike his situation, there was no doubt about what the objectively correct choice was. And yet…

He shouldn't have even cared, not one little bit, but once again, that needy feeling was coming up. He shouldn't have cared really, and he even understood the why aspect of their decisions.

It is the most natural thing in Equestria to feel concern for others, Celestia told him. It doesn't mean you lack agency or your own decisions are predetermined. It only means you are a normal pony.

“You just don't get it,” the stallion said a second later, to both of them. Then he directed the rest of his words to the human. “If you're gonna die either way, it makes no difference whether or not you emigrate to Equestria. And then you're doing it for no reason! Shooting at humans and starting fights and almost killing them and yourself because they talked to me? I don't even like them or wanna be here! You're just throwing it away for nothing!”

His voice was raised to a shout before he knew it. This shouldn't have been making him so angry! If they wanted to be ignorant, why should that bother him? He did nothing but act ignorant himself all the time.

You are not ignorant though, the princess said softly. You understand the truth, but have a hard time accepting it. These humans believe in a lie that will kill them if not changed. Your own internal struggles cannot be compared to ignorance.

He was pretty sure she said that before, or something along those lines at least. This time he ignored it and spared a glance back to the dark skinned human. He had contemplation on his face. Maybe a doubt? Or maybe he was just feeling the pain of the wound in his side.

The human has those mixed emotions for just a second. Lost Legacy didn't know what changed, but a second after that, his expression changed to one of hard nosed determination. And hate.

“You look at me, demon, and tell me my death is at my own hands,” he growled, voice low and with conviction. He grabbed the black gun as he spoke, and the stallion took a fearful step back in response. He kept wide eyes trained on his face, as the human did his. Their gazes were locked onto each other.

“You say I am to die either way?” the human spat with venom. “Then I will not let you have me! You will not trap me in your lies in my weakest moment, demon!”

“Wait! Don't do that!” Lost Legacy yelled in terror.

Please, stop him Lasting Legacy! Celestia shouted in his head, almost sounding like there was genuine pain in her voice.

Neither could stop what was happening though. The man picked up his gun and pointed it at his own head. Just a moment later, he pulled the trigger.