The other day I woke up and felt a feeling I have not felt in a long time - boredom. The state apparatus of Viirad has become effective enough that my intervention is not usually needed for day-to-day affairs. Zebrica and Griffonia are totally under my control now, and just Equus remains. I will have to return to the front once my invasion begins, of course, but in the meantime, I have had unprecedented amounts of free time.

Naval invasions are notoriously complicated, but I have left the planning to Hilda. I could contribute myself, but I’d rather leave the minutiae to the experts, after all, I never attended naval college. All I had to do was ask, and I received a myriad of potential invasion plans to pick from. The one I selected was a small invasion of the Dragon Isles and Puerto Caballo in the south from my newly acquired territories in Les Meridiennes with the main force departing from Skyrim in Vedina to land in Nova Griffonia. Perhaps I should say the “Nova Griffonian Protectorate” or “Occupied Nova Griffonia”, but the semantics will hardly matter a few months from now.

To facilitate what will be the largest naval invasion in history, I have also decreed the construction of the infrastructure required for such an invasion. Ports in Les Meridiennes are being expanded tenfold and the previously undeveloped lands in Vedina are getting an expanded transportation system with housing for a million soldiers alongside relevant construction needed to support the population increase. Again, all it took was a word to Governor Ondska to make it happen. Of course, it doesn’t happen overnight, so I have been left with a few free months in which to reap the rewards of owning two thirds of the world.

There are many ways to alleviate boredom. I could simply do more work - I have no lack of problems to solve, but that’s getting old. Unifying Viirad under the Rivbit is an ongoing process but got boring after the fifth “bitization” process. However, I have been quite enamored with some new forms of entertainment. The television has become quite the modern comfort machine. In only a decade it has gone from practically unusable to something I am willing to spend larger amounts of time on.

Entertainment is a good like any other, and I do allow its distribution in Viirad. The issue is that if I do not provide it, it will be sought after, and thus, may make other nations more appealing. The Changeling Queendom is a technological near peer, and so it provides them an avenue of attack if I do not sufficiently supply it to my own creatures. This will not be a problem in the future, but, for now at least, I have been subsidizing the industry to ensure adequate entertainment for the creatures of Viirad and, more importantly, myself.

Truly, this is an age of technological marvels. I have installed air conditioning in the various palaces I have taken for myself across the world, making even the most humid climates bearable as long as one is indoors. They are also equipped with refrigerators which, connected through my system of intercontinental trade, allow me to sample any of the delicacies of the world at any time without having to teleport there myself. Speaking of kitchens, research into radiation has yielded the microwave, an amazing device allowing for the near instant reheating of food. I had a hoof in all of this research, but it is thanks to the work of the numerous institutions across Viirad that have allowed for this abundance.

These gadgets and trinkets are fun to use, but the satisfaction they bring is ultimately surface level. I require a different pleasure. The Hippodrome in Wittenburgh usually hosts sporting events, but I have demanded they introduce a new form of entertainment: gladiator fights to the death. The sport authorities would be too squeamish to implement such a bloody game properly, so I instead gave the responsibility to the Church, who was happy to oblige.

With a population spanning the globe, it is much easier to find those willing to throw their lives away in these games for my approval. Sometimes the organizers like to do games or give the participants fancy weapons or rules, but I find the barehooved fights most entertaining. Two creatures enter with nothing but the fur (or feathers) on their backs and a determination to live. With no holds barred, the two do everything in their power to disable and then kill the other. It is quite the spectacle. The best part is when one of them wins, they always look towards me. Sometimes desperately, sometimes with pride, but always asking for my approval.

The desperate ones are the most interesting. Usually, they all enter the field with bluster, but once major injuries occur, they become less willing to continue. In the cases when there is a more inexperienced fighter, they often begin to panic once hurt, straining to continue in the unfamiliar situation. Then, if they win, they always give me this helpless look where they feel like they have nothing left other than me and are trying to justify their pain and having killed somecreature by getting my approval. The ones who keep winning get boring. Just yesterday, three-time survivor Nayanthishan Zadar won his fourth victory goring his opponent on his antlers. He no longer looks at me in that same way. When he won again, he went on his hind legs, stretching out and cheering as if to say, “look at me”. I still appreciate that, but it is missing some of the nakedness of spirit from before.

In fact, all of the fights are missing something. The participants are all too - perhaps willing is the best word to use. The fact that I asked for willing participants means they all came in with the mentality that they would kill and die for me. The thrill is therefore when they have to confront what that actually means. Once they gain the experience, it just becomes another form of theater. Barbaric displays of violence in my name can only be so entertaining. I need something more raw.

It’s good to be back in the lab. I’ve renovated this place twice since it was first constructed seven years ago, but it still feels the same even if the flooring and lighting is more modern. This time, I’m not here for science, but for entertainment, although I suppose I am taking an analytical approach to my entertainment. I believe why the gladiatorial matches became boring so quickly is my lack of direct influence. Yes, the creatures were probably affected by my spell at some point, but in those pivotal moments, I had little to do with their actions even if the idea of me was firmly in their minds’ eyes.

To fix that, I’ve teleported five creatures from around Viirad to kill each other for the sake of my entertainment. An earth pony, a griffon, a zebra, a deer, and a kirin all stand distributed in a shared cell, all disoriented, and all five confused. This cell is new. Glass walls line the square room on all four sides, granting me easy observation from any direction. Was it expensive to build? In all likelihood, but I’m far beyond thinking about the cost of things.

The griffon notices me. The other four recognize the expression of shock on her face and follow her gaze. The group falls to their knees in one smooth motion. That part never gets old. The one downside of having a nice glass observation room is that speaking through it is more difficult. I have a microphone set up, but it is more direct to just beam my words directly into their minds. I will need the mental connections for later anyway. Using my telepathy, I conjure the perception of my voice in their minds at high volume. I welcome them, telling them of the opportunity they have been given by being randomly selected: the final one to remain alive among the five will be granted my favor.

I have chosen not to provide any other incentives. This will be a pure test of resolve and loyalty. If I were to threaten them with death, I would be testing their fear of death. If I were to offer a grand monetary reward, I would be testing their greed. No, this will be a pure battle of their willingness to serve.

They rise at my command. I can see their instinctive looks at each other and can tell just from their expressions the subconscious interactions they had. I am in their thoughts already, and can listen in, but none of their doubts have risen to surface level yet. Their immediate reaction was concern and fear. Then, fearing social repercussions, they looked to each other with those expressions, searching for reassurance that others were feeling the same. Upon seeing that they did share similar opinions by reading each other’s expressions, they felt relief, feeling lucky they were not in a room full of murderers. Well, at least not yet.

None of them expressed this interaction in a conscious thought, but the pony begins to speak, his voice warbling with the anxiety of confronting his goddess but strengthened by the wordless interaction he just had with the others. He fumbles over his words as he tries to refuse without saying no. He eventually settles on asking a question if that is the best way they can serve. I can barely hear him through the glass, but the volume of his thoughts come to me clear as day, even if it doesn’t help his articulation. I respond with a clear “yes”, telling him and the others that the entertainment they will provide me today is worth more than all of the work they will do in their lifetimes.

I then have the urge to do something I haven’t done with any of my test subjects before - ask for his name. I suppose he isn’t a test subject, but an athlete, and it is always better to have a name when it comes to a team to cheer on. The desire to ask is also unnecessary, as I have the ability to simply pluck his name from his mind if I need it. His name is Rough Current, and he is a farmer from the Riverlands. I address him by name, asking him and, indirectly, the others if they want to leave. I tell them I have left the door unlocked and they are free to leave at any time. The desire for freedom is not something I want disturbing their motivations.

He takes a single step towards the door before stopping. He had a visceral emotional reaction that he was betraying someone by doing so. The others also have a similar reaction of reflexive disgust. Good. That is the fruit of my work. Even though they definitely don’t want to kill another creature, they know rejecting this opportunity to gain my approval is a grave insult as well. And thus, their dilemma is set. Rough Current does not take another step, feeling the judgment of his peers around him even though they all, at some level, want to do the same.

This is what I’ve been missing. The conflict brewing in their minds is immense, and I hold the power to tip it in any way I desire. These are regular folk. The notion of murder is so far beyond their thoughts that it surpasses even their desire to serve me. Therefore, none are making the first move to attack another, as the shame and guilt of being an aggressor still outweighs their desire to serve. Even for the creatures I can feel are much closer to being able to kill, for such a weighty and dubiously moral decision, there is quite a bias towards inaction. It is like if five deer were strapped to a trolley track and one was given the chance to save their lives through the murder of one individual. The method matters as much as the amount. If it were a simple lever to switch the tracks of the trolley to instead hit the single deer, it would be an easy decision. However, if one had to use their bare hooves to beat the lone deer to death like in this case, inaction becomes the preferred choice.

And so, the five remain, all doing their best impressions of statues as sweat begins to bead down their brows. Of the five, Verdant Grove, the kirin, is experiencing the greatest amount of fear. From her mind, I can see she is a city dweller who works as a computer and is about as divorced from violence and physical labor as one can get. On the other end of the spectrum, the one closest to being able to kill is Frieda Hielscher, the resident griffon. I see in her memories a troubled youth. She has actually been in fights before, unlike some of these creatures, but she is also older, perhaps giving her a biological disadvantage.

She seems the closest emotionally to being able to kill, but that may not translate to being the first to act, as Zakarbaal Baalram, the zebra, remains unpredictable. He is the youngest of the bunch at 16 years old, but that also means he’s in the peak of his physical form. He seems impulsive, almost restless in this situation, and so I cannot rule out that he will be the first to attack. His thoughts race. They are conflicted like everycreature else's, but his thoughts seem to flip back and forth between greater extremes than the others are, unsure if he should dash out or buck the closest creature.

That closest creature is Nisha Singh, from Doehli. She is a practically minded plumber and is watching the others more than thinking about herself. Rough Current’s fetlock just twitched, and Nisha’s eyes were quick to lock onto the movement. Five creatures, trapped together not by the room they are in, but by the conflict in their minds.

It is time to make this fun. Using my existing connection to their minds, I locate the memories I target with my mind control spell. As expected, all five were affected at some point, allowing me to easily locate the associations I added. To start, I give all of them a minor increase in devotion alongside the required metacognitive associations to ensure they are able to reflect and reconsider their actions. The first visible change is in Frieda’s eyes. She seems more determined than before, and I can read her thoughts have shifted to evaluating which among them is the greatest threat. There is a similar change in all of them, and I can sense thoughts move from just not wanting to think about violence to almost an assumption that violence is inevitable. Rough and Verdant are still afraid but are no longer panicking. I can sense they feel some temptation towards fighting in a way they hadn’t before, which makes their thoughts focus more on the topic of violence even if they still consider performing those actions reprehensible.

The relationship between devotion and their likelihood to attack is non-linear. I could directly tune their bloodlust or morals if I could find the relevant associations, but increasing devotion instead causes their thoughts to come into conflict with each other. Rather than becoming more violent creatures, my tweaks simply make it easier for them to justify violence. In Rough and Verdant’s minds, their anxiety causes them to think rapidly, and as I adjust their devotion to me, the thoughts of obedience in spite of their reservations begin to make more sense to them. They become more comfortable, and therefore, their panic reduces merely to stress.

For Nisha and Frieda, while they were initially unsure of what to think, my influence means their beliefs of what they think will happen have changed. Their increased devotion has brought a sense of certainty about the future, where they believe violence will definitely now occur. They will not make the first move yet but are beginning to brace for what feels to them an inevitable impact.

Zakarbaal is different from the others. While none of the others have yet consciously considered striking first, he is. His thoughts are characterized by a dynamic where he thinks of attacking someone and how, followed by guilt from having thought that. For now, the guilt is keeping him in check, but I don’t imagine it will be for long. I crank everyone’s dials up another notch.

Now, the main thing holding them back is the desire to not be a hypocrite. Since they made the decision to not attack in the past minutes, there is a bias to stick with that decision even though their devotion has sufficiently justified it to them. None have yet consciously noticed that I am influencing them, but Nisha and Rough have noticed how quickly their thoughts have changed. In contrast,

Zakarbaal just made his move. He spun around, bucking Nisha in the head while she was looking at another creature. Pressing the advantage, he immediately tackles the doe, trying to get a pin with his left forehoof while punching with the right. Rough Current watches, his face showing signs of horror, but I can tell from his thoughts a part of him is trying to see if he has an easy opportunity to score a hit.

He should, however, be paying attention to the others, as Frieda takes the opportunity to put him in a chokehold. Before he can react, she uses her other front claw to strike his eyes, eliciting a scream of pain. It’s a smart move. Her thoughts point to a sense of urgency as the source of her motivation, as she believed she had to take the initiative because her window to win was closing. Seeing the initial fight has seemed to have relaxed some of her mental barriers as well.

Alone, Verdant shuffles back in reaction to the fighting before her, pressing her back against the glass. This is not driven by a strategy to avoid conflict in order to win, but merely a subconscious desire not to fight, as I can tell from her thoughts, which remain simple and fearful. Zakarbaal and Nisha are far too busy to notice her, and Frieda is occupied strangling Rough. It is difficult to fight two opponents at once, so this situation where two pairs have formed while the least violent among them cowers seems to be the most likely outcome of a fight among five.

Zakarbaal is about to get an unrecoverable advantage, but his face accidentally skims Nisha’s antlers, causing him to recoil, and giving her a chance to escape from his hold. They are amateurs, but I think that is actually a good thing. Out of their desire to serve, they have to learn how to fight, and learn as quickly as possible. The two aggressors are consumed with the desire to win, while the two recipients of their aggression are mostly motivated by self-defense. Funny how violence suddenly becomes acceptable as long as somecreature else strikes first.

There is an argument to say that all of their motivations are already corrupted. Being motivated to win or survive is not the same as devotion to me. In the same vein, Verdant’s cowering is not properly motivated either. Therefore, my removal of other incentives was pointless as their motivations are still tainted. I would counter that argument by saying that their current motivations are at least intrinsic rather than extrinsic. With no material difference being presented, I am testing their minds, which is my goal. Though a desire to seek my approval is not the only factor in their decision making, I can read Frieda’s mind right now, and it is justifying her asphyxiation of Rough because of the step he took towards the exit before the fight began. That is pure enough for me.

What I dislike, though, is Verdant’s passivity. She isn’t thinking of strategy or survival and has chosen simply to freeze. I tweak her devotion up again and then perform some active mind control to interrupt her thought spiral. With the increased faith, she is able to finally take an objective measure of the situation. Of course, her mind is still biased to her current action, and so she comes to the conclusion that waiting out the fights will be good as to reduce the number of creatures threatening her. It is a valid strategy, but more importantly is now one that she actively chose.

As Rough Current’s face grows more and more purple and his thrashing begins to slow, Frieda gets the chance to take a look around her, seeing the ongoing fight between Zakarbaal and Nisha and the lone form of Verdant trying to look small. She feels indignant at how Verdant is taking advantage of their fighting without dirtying her own hooves and has marked her as her next target. Meanwhile, Zakarbaal begins to shout loudly as his relentless barrage of blows breaks through Nisha’s weakened defenses, trying to finish her off before it reforms.

I feel my connection to Rough’s mind break as he dies, but Frieda is holding on still to make sure of it as she does not have the same insight I do. A loud snap rings out as Zakarbaal breaks one of Nisha’s antlers off with a powerful stomp on the prone deer. Shouting, he grabs a hold of it before slamming it down directly on Nisha’s neck. Another connection severed. Frieda lets go of Rough’s limp body, and is starting to move towards Verdant, who is trying to maintain distance. However, Zakarbaal, who has spent the most energy of them all, looks between the two potential targets and identifies Frieda as the greater threat. While Frieda’s eyes are on Verdant, he lunges at her.

Frieda is taken by surprise but manages to reflexively get a talon strike on the zebra’s neck, making him back up. Verdant continues to back away from the fight, but inadvertently steps into the rapidly expanding pool of blood emanating from Nisha’s corpse. She immediately stops moving in that direction but doesn’t want to move closer to the battle between the zebra and griffon either.

As Zakarbaal’s expression angers, Frieda flaps twice, taking to the air. The cell’s ceiling is not high enough for her to be totally out of range, but she still wants the power of gravity on her side. Zakarbaal reacts by moving further back towards Verdant, perhaps trying to get ready for a running jump. Seeing an opportunity to maximize force, Frieda dives at the zebra, trying to use the length of the room to build force before Zakarbaal can do the same by running. Zakarbaal attempts to brace, but is slammed against the glass, the first layer of which splinters into a web pattern. Verdant runs away, slipping in Nisha’s blood, but managing to cross the room as Frieda and Zakarbaal fight on the other side.

With my view now obstructed by the shatter pattern on the glass, I have to move to the side slightly to get a better look at what is happening. Frieda is trying to keep Zakarbaal pinned, but he lets her get closer before he bites into her neck. With a pained gasp, Frieda tries to push herself off, but Zakarbaal senses an opportunity and tightens his jaw while grabbing onto her with his hooves. Frieda tries to push away with her claws, but pushing away causes greater pain as Zakarbaal does not release his bite. She tries again, flapping too this time, but Zakarbaal’s grip is firm.

Realizing she can’t get out of the grip, she attempts to move her front claws up towards Zakarbaal’s neck to attack where she clawed him earlier. His neck is obviously exposed due to him actively biting her, and so he sees this coming. In response, he squeezes all his limbs tighter, bringing her into an embrace that stops Frieda’s claws in their tracks. I can sense his determination - his inner monologue is nothing but a scream to keep his strength and adrenaline up. Frieda weakens. She is too old to break out, and so must simply endure the pain of the bite.

Zakarbaal eventually tires, releasing the griffon from his grip. Frieda staggers back, holding her claw to the bite mark. Her movement is unsteady, overwhelmed by pain. Zakarbaal is also breathing raggedly, but his youth allows him to keep going. He walks to Nisha’s body and yanks out the antler he used to kill her with his mouth. He begins walking towards Frieda, both of them too out of breath to run.

The zebra goes up on his hind legs, ready to bring down the antler and claim another kill. Frieda moves the claw from her bite wound to try and divert the attack, but Zakarbaal pushes it out of the way with a hoof. Using his weight, he brings down the antler where it lands on Frieda’s side, quickly penetrating her feathers. With two wounds now, Frieda is unable to mount a serious defense. Zakarbaal’s mind shows no reservation with finishing off the wounded victim, having been angered by the cut she gave him, which is still open. The pattern is regular: he removes the antler and slowly gets into position before using gravity to help him stab the griffon again. He does this three times, but she is dead after the second.

Only two creatures remain. The fresh but fearful Verdant looks at the battered but now proven Zakarbaal. She has no idea what to do. Zakarbaal removes the antler once more and turns to face Verdant. She looks back at him in fear. Despite his obvious tiredness and pain, the image of the blood-stained young zebra remains intimidating. They are both covered in blood, but their patterns betray their origins. Verdant’s hooves and lower body are drenched, having slipped next to Nisha while Zakarbaal's body is covered in splatter patterns from having himself been the source of much of the mess. The mess is irksome, but it is contained within the observation cell, an advantage of having full walls instead of bars.

Zakarbaal walks slowly towards Verdant. By nature of being in the center of the room, he controls the space. To avoid him, Verdant would have to circle the outer walls of the room, while Zakarbaal can just rotate his body. I don’t see that playing out well for Verdant. She attempts to run around the room to maintain distance, but she quickly realizes this truth as well. Zakarbaal simply follows her around, allowing Verdant to tire herself out, simultaneously starting to regain his own strength.

Realizing she’s reducing her chances of surviving by continuing to flee, she finally begins to consider an angle of attack. Zakarbaal does not look to be fazed at the prospect of killing one who is projecting such a look of helplessness. His conscious thoughts are a mantra to me, which I would guess is a way to push down subconscious feelings that may inspire mercy. This is what is lost in the gladiators who return to fight again. Zakarbaal knows his mind is weak, not capable of serving fully. If he stops, he might start to feel guilty or not have the mental strength to kill Verdant. Therefore, he must rely on his devotion and loyalty to defeat the traitorous parts of his mind.

That is why death is required for these fights. For many creatures, it takes a close encounter with mortality to be faced with the fundamental nature of their own characters. With his life on the line, Zakarbaal has chosen me. The same thoughts are running through Verdant, but from the opposite direction. Whereas Zakarbaal is trying to suppress feelings with his devotion, Verdant is trying to conjure feelings of courage by calling on my name.

As Zakarbaal closes in, Verdant’s mind becomes a flurry of statements all relating to me. She tells herself over and over to be like me, to not disappoint me. She interleaves those thoughts with pleas for my aid. I have already given you special treatment Verdant - the rest is up to you. Zakarbaal gets up on his hind legs again, ready to end the kirin’s life like he did Frieda’s. The only real course of action Verdant has thought of is to just charge with everything she has, which I don’t imagine will succeed. She knows this and is desperately trying to see any other way out before Zakarbaal can lethally impale her.

Suddenly, inspiration strikes her as her eyes land on the open cut Frieda left on his neck. She has no idea if her magic is up to the task, but it’s the best chance she has. With a desperate shout, she grips the wound in her telekinesis and tries to pull with all her might. Her grip is imprecise, but it causes enough pain for Zakarbaal to cry out and land back on all fours. In his vocalization, he accidentally drops the antler in his mouth, losing his weapon. Verdant is buoyed by the success, and regrips the cut, trying to hold less of the general flesh and more of just the damaged skin. Zakarbaal, now registering the kirin as a threat, tackles her with the rest of his strength, ignoring his pain.

He lands on her but is no longer able to direct his force well due to weakness and the new pain. Verdant’s horn glow fades as she is pushed on her back with Zakarbaal above her. However, in the dying glow of her influence, she manages to open the wound just a bit more, eliciting a howl from the zebra. He raises his right hoof and punches the downed kirin in the face, but he is unable to put much force behind it. This being the first real blow she’s taken, Verdant is able to shake it off, and she refocuses on the now larger gash on Zakarbaal’s neck. Whether it is due to her profession involving precise telekinetic manipulation of mechanical calculators or dumb luck I cannot say, but she manages to get a hold of it and pull with all her might. Her force finds an artery, and blood begins squirting rhythmically with Zakarbaal’s heart rate, which is quite high.

Zakarbaal tries to muster a response, but his mind is already slowing from the lack of oxygen, his yowl of pain coming out as more of a whimper. He starts to lose his balance as his knees buckle, causing him to stagger back. Verdant is shocked it worked, and as she gets up, she lets out a guttural battle cry, turning the tables on him. With death already inevitable given the blood loss, Zakarbaal is an easy target for the inexperienced kirin. She pushes him to the ground, stomping repeatedly on his open wound. The damage has already been done though, and her lack of technique means the blunt force trauma is relatively ineffectual. I can no longer hear Zakarbaal’s thoughts.

Verdant eventually calms down enough to realize Zakarbaal is dead, and, as she catches her breath, she surveys the carnage before her. Four dead bodies, three pools of blood, two hooves resting squarely in the pool before her, and one survivor - herself. She’s a bit shell-shocked, eyes wide and mind barely comprehending. Half an hour ago, she was at work like normal. Now, she is a killer. I teleport behind her, mindful to levitate just above the blood so as to not stain my own hooves and coat.

“Congratulations, Verdant Grove,” I say to her.

“But I… I…” she stammers.

“You won. Thus, you have gained my favor,” I remind her.

“No, no, no,” she reacts, “I don’t deserve it. The zebra… he had more faith than me.”

“He may have displayed his devotion more aggressively, but that does not make him more deserving. I was present in both of your minds, and I find your devotion sufficient,” I explain.

Verdant still doesn’t understand, “But… he killed two of the others while they were still strong. I… I just finished him off.”

“He chose to take a strategy of acting first. In his execution he left himself vulnerable to you. In the end, he is dead, and you are alive. Your strategy bore fruit while his did not. It is true your courage was lacking to start, but I gave you the strength you required. Remember, I always seek results over appearances,” I reveal to her.

“Like that priest said…” she recalls. I see she has a memory of a priest of the Virad Keepers visiting her city to give a sermon. Her wits return to her, and she kowtows, her snout firmly in Zakarbaal’s blood.

“You need not bow Verdant,” I tell her while raising her up with my hoof, “for I grant you now my blessing.” I levitate towards her a token of my blessing, something I’ve made in these past years as a way of granting honor to creatures in my service. She is the first kirin to receive the small golden disk. Once she grasps it, I teleport the pair of us to her workplace in Fragrance.

Appearing next to her empty desk in the middle of the rows of identical ones in the room, Verdant’s coworkers all stop to look at the sudden appearance of myself and her. Verdant herself is quite overwhelmed, still reeling from the stressful experience. The rest of the kirin are shocked to see their mild-mannered friend covered in blood next to the god-empress of Viirad. I wonder how they’ll treat her differently now.

Life is good. There is always more work to be done, but finally being able to take a break is quite refreshing. I can also start thinking about things far into the future now that I have no immediate threats to contend with. I recently found a fawn in the former Austurland who has seer abilities. She had a name before, but it is irrelevant now that I have removed her from her parents. She will be named the only appropriate name for a potential successor to me: Viira II. I have not yet unlocked the secrets to immortality, and so it is good to have a backup. I could have a child myself, but I could never give the reins of the empire to a non-seer. The genetics of the abilities are not well-understood, and so it is better to have a chosen seer successor.

Like in a board game, I hold such a commanding position that it is better to think about how I can lose, as the default path results in my victory. As far as I am aware, there is no celestial or demonic being that has both the ability and desire to stop me. If Queen Rubra is to be believed, the Windigos are weak. They attempted to foment disharmony in the dread peninsula as to avoid being starved out, but as my conquest comes to a close, I would imagine they will have less and less conflict and hatred to feed off of as my perfect order grows stronger and stronger. The peak of their power would have been last year, and they did nothing.

Perhaps the greatest threat to my reign lies behind mirrors in other worlds. There are several well-documented cases of interactions with worlds beyond this one, but none ended with any significant interdimensional relationships. I could have these portals destroyed, but they may serve as the next avenue for my conquests as well as being potential sources of knowledge.

For a more present and likely consideration, Discord is still around. He has not interfered in my affairs yet, at least, that I’m aware of. His power is legendary and is perhaps singlehoofedly the reason history gets so muddled if one goes back more than a thousand years ago to the era of his reign. I don’t know why he hasn’t done anything significant yet. Surely the order I represent would be counter to his own chaos. Maybe the chaos of the Changeling occupation of Equestria is enough to sate him. As with all chaotic things, he must be contained. I have two continents worth of magical artifacts that can help alongside my own significant powers. Despite his god-like reality alteration powers, he should still be vulnerable to magical nullification and absorption, but I am developing numerous layers of backups in case he isn’t to ensure he will not be a problem.

Sombra was killed when the Changelings took over the Crystal Empire. Though he has escaped death before, it is clear just his magic alone is not a threat to me. By the time he can reform, his ponies will no longer be receptive to his rule, and he will be dealt with easily. He also did some work for me by imprisoning Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, removing a potential threat. Lord Tirek does possess the raw magic power to threaten me, but I just need to make sure he never leaves Tartarus. I also control his family in Senturya and Gargiloya, which I can use as leverage. Celestia and Luna are powerful, but they have shown they are not powerful enough to defeat me. Wherever they are, I have no need to disturb their raising of the sun and moon. It would be quite annoying to have to do it myself or arrange for the necessary number of magical creatures to have it done in my stead. My increased mental abilities also protect my dreams, preventing an attack from Luna.

That leaves just the Princess of Friendship, Twilight Sparkle. I met her once briefly near the beginning of my travels at her School of Friendship back before the Changelings demolished it. She struck me as naive and idealistic, not what I expected for a pony who had defeated so many magical threats to Equestria. This seems to indicate that her ideology has not failed her yet, which could only be possible if she possessed great power - the so-called magic of friendship. The lecture I attended that she spoke at was insightful. Loyalty, Generosity, Kindness, Honesty, and Laughter are all important virtues, and my mind control research has independently come to the same conclusion that they are important for building relationships. However, her power seems to be greater than simply having friends.

Supposedly, Twilight uses a set of magical artifacts known as the Elements of Harmony to defeat her foes, but I have not seen them myself. Regardless of the veracity of the specifics though, it is clear she defeated them with something, and therefore she and the elements remain a threat to me. However, they did not use this power during the Great War, and Equestria was defeated by the Changelings. I believe it is because all six element bearers are required for the magic to work, and by separating them, the Changelings were able to avoid it. To this day, I don’t believe any of the bearers are confirmed to be dead, but if Chrysalis hasn’t been able to find some of them in years, then I imagine they will not be an obstacle for me. I imagine the power must lie in the artifacts themselves, so I will have to make sure to destroy or separate them once I find them in order to prevent the outside chance the six come together.

The probability of any of these being a problem is low. Chances are, I encounter a fractured Changeling state, already stretched thin managing its numerous occupied territories and easily steamroll across the continent. Any resistance can be dealt with by mind control, and though it may take months to traverse the continent, there are no other external threats that I can be surprised by. Barring Faust herself coming down and smiting me, there is no potential threat that I haven’t accounted for yet. The world is already mine; Chrysalis just doesn’t know it yet.

Author's Note

This chapter contains reference to the focuses "Fabricated Pleasures" and "A Different Pleasure" where Viira seeks entertainment. In the "A Different Pleasure" description, it describes that she wishes to see struggle, which is what I have depicted. Just death is not enough - she wants to see their conflict.

Also, she finds a seer fawn as described in the event "The Special". The game never names the child, but I would imagine Viira would do something like what I've written.

Having never written anything before, I never realized that fight scenes take so many words. This fight is pretty short and it by itself would basically be the longest chapter in the entire story.

The next chapter will be the last chapter.