Friendship is Optimal: Rebirth

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.