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!