❪ 🛴 | 🌈 ❫

𝟐𝟑.𝟎𝟒.𝟏𝟎𝟐𝟒 ┊ 𝟏𝟎:𝟒𝟕 𝐏𝐌

"Rainbow, do you think the moon is made of cheese?"

The question broke the strange silence, causing the multicolored mare to lift her eyes from her paperwork towards her adoptive sister, raising an eyebrow in confusion. She sneezed, trying to clear her throat.

"Excuse me, Scoots... The moon what?"

"If it's made of cheese, do you think so?" The violet-haired girl responded with strange energy.

"Ah-, I couldn't tell you... Why do you think that?" She set the papers aside while looking somewhat puzzled at her face.

A small moment of awkwardness arose as Scootaloo raised her hands, trying to gesture to explain her point, but only caused a more confused look from the rainbow-haired girl.

"Do you remember when Princess Luna came back? She came from the moon, and she... what could she have eaten all that time?"

She swallowed, trying to find an answer to her strange question. It had really been many years since that event happened, and she couldn't remember it clearly, though she doubted she ever had that exact information. She smiled, bringing a hand to her face, trying not to laugh. How did Scootaloo come to that conclusion?

"Oh, come on, Rainbow. Haven't you heard the phrase that the moon is made of cheese? Or about astronaut mice?" Scootaloo quickly moved her arm, trying to pantomime a rocket landing on the table in front of her. "White mice supervised from a spaceship by huge cats, but the mice never came back when they found the cheese."

She slightly pressed her lips together—did she just say cats? A muffled sound escaped her, followed by a laugh of the same intensity. Her composure quickly vanished as she imagined these mice living with Princess Luna for a thousand years. Her imagination gave her a picture of the strange cracks all over the moon; maybe the princess had made her mark by eating with the mice in those places.

"Haha, by Celestia! Why cats?! What do they need the cheese for?!" She quickly fell into laughter and several theories about how the story somehow needed it.

"Uh... To catch more mice? I don't know, Sweetie Belle says there'd be a huge hole from the mice after a thousand years, but I think the moon's already hollow."

"Hahaha! Could it be Swiss cheese?"

She was smiling, something she hadn't done lately, which made her little sister happy as she continued with her story about the moon made of dairy. The situation had flowed so smoothly, showing that their connection was still strong despite everything that was happening.

"Alright!" She coughed, trying to stop laughing. "Why don't you ask the princess about your story? The Solar Festival is in a few days; maybe we'll see her."

"But she didn't show up in previous years... did she?"

"I heard a vague rumor that she will this time. Besides... I don't think it would be hard to contact her."

She sighed, trying to refocus her mind on her work, picking up the papers again and rereading where she had left off. She quickly concentrated when she could grasp the information in front of her. It had become a routine to process so much information about the factory, and somehow the names on those sheets mostly went unnoticed, even though some seemed vaguely familiar; they had become just letters on paper, letters now crossed out in red.

When she finished, she had to return them first thing in the morning. She had only taken the liberty to work on them at home due to the excessive paperwork from the past few weeks in Cloudsdale, something she found rather unpleasant. Even though the factory's activities had ceased and moved under the SRF, it still contained many years of research of a secret nature that should have been eliminated months ago. But apparently, that wasn't in the administration's plans for now, as they had given priority to the anomalies sector's research. She didn't know anyone from that place, only that their projects focused on 'eternal life' or the solution to recent magical problems. She believed that any mistake in the administration could leak this information due to the risk of these sectors being in the same facilities, but it wasn't in her power to do anything about it.

With a pen in hand, she started crossing out names, comparing them with another document next to her. For a moment, she couldn't hear the approaching footsteps, only noticing when the sound of a glass plate hitting the table momentarily pulled her out of focus, directing her gaze to the contents of the dish, which for a moment left her frozen with a feeling of repulsion. They were just colorful cupcakes... Colors very similar to hers.

Rainbow Dash observed the multicolored cupcakes with a mix of discomfort and horror that she couldn't disguise in any way. The memory of recent vivid and disturbing dreams flooded her mind, pulling her out of reality for a few seconds, making her heart pound hard. Her reaction was instant and disproportionate, feeling a lump in her throat as fear overwhelmed her.

"This morning, I passed by Sugarcube Corner, and Pinkie gave me these special ones for you. They taste pretty good—I tried one on the way back," Scootaloo exclaimed with an innocent smile, not noticing her sister's reaction.

Dash abruptly pushed the plate back, causing the cupcakes to slide and nearly fall to the floor, completely breaking the previous tranquility and causing confusion due to Rainbow's aggressive reaction. The purple-haired girl took a few steps back, wide-eyed—had she done something wrong?

"I'm sorry, Rainbow. I-I thought it wouldn't hurt to try one."

"Get them out of my sight!" Rainbow interrupted with a trembling and anger-filled voice. The images of those damned pastries flashed in her mind, and Pinkie's voice whispering unpleasantly behind her suddenly became present, making her look around with growing paranoia. Everything was too fresh in her memory. She felt trapped in a spiral, as if the walls were closing in on her. The chair she was sitting on squeaked unpleasantly as she got up.

Scootaloo, beginning to realize that something was very wrong, tried to fix it as she gathered the cupcakes and lifted them to take them away.

"Please forgive me. I'll throw them away if-..."

The rainbow-haired girl surprised Scootaloo when she harshly slapped the plate out of her grasp, sending it and its contents flying across the room, believing it would bring them closer to her. The multicolored pastries flew and crashed against the wall, shattering into colorful pieces scattered across the floor, along with the plate that shattered and flew all over the place.

"Dammit, Scootaloo!" Rainbow shouted euphorically, her voice full of desperation echoing in the younger girl's ears as she clenched her fist at her. Her horrified eyes were filled with contained tears as if she had seen the devil himself, and her heart pounded furiously in her chest. She couldn't stand even the sight of that innocent object.

Scootaloo stepped back in horror, her eyes filled with tears and shock.

"Rainbow, I'm really sorry. I didn't know..."

"You don't know anything! Shut up!" Rainbow abruptly interrupted, overwhelmed by anger and anxiety, unable to control herself. She was capable of anything in that state; her breathing was ragged, and she quickly turned to the table, shoving all the documents into a briefcase within reach, not caring how the papers crumpled in the process.

Overwhelmed by rage and anxiety, unable to gauge her reaction, she circled around Scootaloo without noticing her stunned expression. She probably wouldn't have noticed if she had shoved her hard, though that didn't happen. Grabbing a coat and keys from a nearby piece of furniture, she headed towards the front door.

"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!" She screamed before slamming the door behind her, her voice echoing through the apartment with an unpleasant reverberation in her sister's ears. She stormed down the hallway, her footsteps resounding through the building as more voices invaded her mind, causing her to see things that weren't really there.

Scootaloo stood frozen in place, still holding her arms up as if holding a plate that wasn't there. That reaction from Rainbow wasn't just unexpected—it was like the sky had fallen on her. Something she had never experienced before now manifested as thoughts about whether she was truly to blame for these events. She completely broke down, placing one hand on the table and the other on her face as she tried not to cry, though it was in vain, as tears quickly streamed down her cheeks, dripping down her hand and forming a small puddle on the floor.

She remained standing, staring at the mess of the smashed cupcake, feeling overwhelmed by the situation. She sobbed for several minutes as her mind filled with negative thoughts. She couldn't understand what had happened or if it was really her fault.

❪ 📚 | 🧭 | 🚬 | 🌌 ❫

𝟐𝟒.𝟎𝟒.𝟏𝟎𝟐𝟒 ┊ 𝟎𝟏:𝟑𝟗 𝐀𝐌

Waking up is a painful transition, a forced return to the same reality that reminds you that you are truly alive and have a mission to fulfill in order to continue existing. But what is reality? A fragile construct, easily shattered by the ambition of many or the weakness of a few?

The first sensation was pain, a sharp pain in her head, each second stabbing her with a moan barely comprehending the intensity of the blow near her neck. But it was the least of her problems. She tried to open her eyes but only found a black veil. What? She couldn’t see. Was she blind? Had the blow been that severe? Trying to figure out what was happening, she blinked and shook her head repeatedly, feeling that bandages were wrapped around her face. Had a doctor done this? No, the bandages were of such poor quality that it couldn’t be the work of a doctor. She tried to move her hand to remove them, but her limbs didn’t respond as they should. Was she tied up? It was clear that this was not right. She was bound by ropes that seemed stronger than any metal. She attempted to move, but the effort only intensified the painful agony in her wrists and ankles. She felt a pressure in her chest from helplessness, not knowing what was happening and how she had ended up here. She moved frantically trying to free herself, but it was useless. She was beginning to panic, and this feeling worsened when she heard whispers around her, but she didn’t want to ask them for help. She was sure they had done this to her.

The air was thick with a strange scent, a mix of various plants and old, damp wood that she couldn’t ignore. Was it incense she was smelling? Around her, the voices murmured in a low, constant tone, a sinister whisper that became clearer with each repetition. It was an ancient dialect, but what were they referring to exactly? The words floated in the air, dancing around her ears, whispering promises of power and destruction in a dead language.

Is power an external force imposed upon others, or is it an internal spark, a will that someone receives to be above others? Twilight tried to calm herself by lowering her head and breathing deeply, focusing on the voices she was hearing. Gradually, her hearing sharpened, and she began to decipher more fragments of the words reaching her ears.

“… We have lived under a lie…” It was audible as several voices repeated with some euphoria.

Their voices merged into a single chant, with a certain emotion in their words. An enthusiasm that was unpleasant to her given her current situation.

“A lie created to deny us what was once ours, our power comes from Nightmare Moon, but now we serve a greater good.”

Her ears weren’t deceiving her; she had just heard ‘Nightmare Moon’ in their words, but that’s impossible. Princess Luna isn’t possessed by any dark force.

“Tonight will not only change our position on the board, we will eliminate any possible opposition, and as a symbol of loyalty and a show of strength-...” The bandages were roughly removed from her face, almost throwing her to the ground, but she managed to stay on the... Ground? The full moon’s light temporarily blinded her as she blinked several times to adjust her eyes. She was on some sort of altar; she couldn’t identify what material it was made of or what strange runes were marked on it. Her gaze focused on the hooded figures in front of her. “Princess Twilight Sparkle will be the sacrifice for the new life, the life that will lead us to victory.”

The voices became clearer, and the atmosphere changed. A chilling cold filled the air, making Twilight shiver involuntarily, almost pale with fear. The voices grew louder, and a chant began to emerge among some of those surrounding the scene, becoming increasingly unison and eerie with each passing moment. She could feel the dark power emanating from them, the sinister energy filling the air. As a survival instinct, she tried to conjure any spell, but it was useless. Why wasn’t her magic working?!

Reality hit Twilight like a bucket of cold water. She was in the middle of an unknown ritual, carried out by strangers in what seemed to be a tropical jungle. This wasn’t the Everfree Forest; it seemed she was far from home, making the feeling of not being able to escape even worse. The hooded figure next to her stepped forward, their voice standing out with authority as they repeated the chants of the others, extending their hand towards the wooden bowls on the altar. These ignited with a peculiar blue flame, and the flames of the torches took the same color.

“Princess Luna is weak by nature; tonight we will change that by giving the chance for the best ‘version’ of her to be reborn and walk with us to ensure victory against Celestia’s Tyranny, using her only student as fuel for the new life.”

The words echoed in her mind, each syllable generating an indescribable terror, hastening her struggle to free herself unsuccessfully. Twilight felt a chill run down her spine when the figure turned towards her and pointed a dagger at her, a strange dagger she had never seen before, but its features suggested it wasn’t from this era.

“No! Please! You can’t do this!”

She pleaded while continuing to struggle, the dagger approached her face, causing her to scream as it cut her skin sharply.

A cut, a simple cut had caused a superficial wound large enough to make her bleed. Blood gushed from her injured cheek; she wouldn’t say she was glad it wasn’t her neck, but she felt a moment of relief as she watched the bloody dagger being thrown into the blue fire on top of the bowls. The fire quickly turned a dark color, while some of the followers extended their hands towards the center of the ritual. Almost immediately, a glow became noticeable beneath their hoods and formed lines of connections with the fire that seemed to feed on their magical mana.

Still stunned by the magic she was witnessing, she tried to mentally note everything she observed. But she couldn’t foresee when the fire in front of her rose, the objects within the bowl seemed to melt, including the dagger itself, forming a strange black sphere, a mass moving on its own volition. She might have been excited by such powerful magic, but she regretted it when the strange magic connected with her in the same way it had with the disciples who had extended their hands.

She felt pressure throughout her body upon the first contact with the magic. She wanted to scream from the impending pain she was experiencing, but it was impossible. She was mute and immobile while her essence was being drained from her. She could almost feel her magic, which had previously failed, now leaving her body rapidly, but it was leaving so painfully that it was likely to kill her before it finished. She could barely make muffled groans while swaying in place, starting to lose strength and finding it increasingly difficult to stay on her knees.

The strange sphere turned into a vivid crimson, almost doubling in size instantly. The magic of one of the princesses of Equestria greatly assisted the dark spell, something that would normally have taken weeks if they didn’t have her here. The hooded figure watching the agonized face of the Princess of Friendship smiled widely, relishing her pain and showing his deep resentment towards his ‘class.’

Everyone smiled at the macabre scene, raising their voices as if feeding the very moon that shone with each prayer they shouted. Suddenly, a sound broke the concentration of those present, diverting their gazes towards its source. Gunshots... Nearby gunshots, too clear to ignore, resonated through the jungle like an echo warning of the danger threatening their ritual.

The senior hooded figure pointed to two of those present, who immediately responded with a bow. He pointed towards the forest again, and they understood right away, moving around the bushes while taking two rifles along the way, venturing into the undergrowth and cocking their weapons.

It was only a few minutes before more gunshots were heard, followed by others in response. The exchange of gunfire caused the ritual attendees to start becoming anxious, whispers of concern breaking the uniform chant. The senior hooded figure raised his hands, trying to restore order, and headed to the back of the ritual, climbing onto the altar itself.

From his robe, he pulled out a dagger marked with runes worn by time. Though it lacked magical abilities, it was symbolic to him. With both hands, he firmly held the dagger and raised it above the head of the slowly agonizing alicorn, unaware that everything was about to end.

“The blood of immortality and the power of the new moon, we call upon the magic of the Dark Age to awaken the true Nightmare Moon. May the sacrifice bring us new life and guide us in the eternal night. Vetus nox, nova nox, nox rubra, nox aeterna.”

The moon, a silent witness, seemed to shine even more brightly as if anticipating the outcome of that night.

At that moment, a shot rang out, louder and closer than the previous ones. The bullet pierced the head of the senior hooded figure, who fell forward, dropping the dagger which vanished into the chaos. The spell ceased upon contact with the blood, the magic stopped being drained from those present, and the sphere drastically reduced in size before exploding seconds later, blinding everyone. His death, in a twisted turn of fate, had partially fulfilled its purpose.

Twilight fell abruptly to the ground beside the altar. The magical explosion had freed her from her restraints, and she quickly regained her breath, trying to focus on what had just happened. She opened her eyes slowly, observing how the hooded figures had dispersed in different directions. Some had been gunned down, while others were fleeing into the jungle. Meanwhile, armed individuals, clad in minimal military gear but sufficient for the task, entered the clearing and began shooting at the fleeing cultists.

She heard footsteps around her. Someone crouched beside her and shook her while speaking. It was a female voice, somewhat grave, but at that moment it sounded like the very song of angels. Twilight lost consciousness moments later.

"Oh Celestia! Twilight, are you okay?" The voice moved Twilight onto her back while searching for water among their supplies.

"What the hell is she doing 100 kilometers from Ponyville?" Another voice, that of an older man with a heavy accent, responded, barely audible over the gunfire.

"Caballeron, tell the village by radio to speed up the evacuation. The bastards are all over the forest, and with Twilight here, we can’t drive them off any further."

"We have another problem, Daring." He pointed his weapon towards the altar.

Daring Do looked up at Caballeron and then at where he was pointing. Her eyes widened in surprise, not only because a child was lying where the spell had been cast but also due to the child’s extreme resemblance to Princess Luna—or rather, her evil counterpart. Although the girl seemed to be sleeping peacefully despite the chaos around her.

The adventurer hurriedly grabbed the robe from one of the dead cultists and covered the child with it. She turned to Caballeron, who was scrutinizing her actions, but with a simple serious look, she convinced him that what she was doing was right.

The two placed their weapons behind their backs; Caballeron lifted the Princess of Friendship, while Daring Do carried the covered child. She whistled, and their companions rushed to follow them into the forest. What kind of spell had they performed? Had it gone wrong, or was this the result the hooded figures had wanted?

The moonlight cast an eerie glow over them, and the dense jungle seemed endless to their frantic minds. The trees cast long, intertwining shadows, playing tricks on their perceptions and creating a maddening labyrinth. Daring Do moved quickly; she knew the jungle well and soon found one of the few visible paths through the vegetation. Though distant, the gunshots kept their reflexes sharp, even as the darkness occasionally played tricks on them.

"Daring, do you think this is all connected?" Caballeron asked, breathing heavily as he carried the princess.

"What do you mean?" Daring replied without taking her eyes off the path.

"You know... These bastards have been performing their weird rituals for months, but nothing like this. It’s odd they’d do something like this right after the country goes dark. Wasn’t the evacuation of the village overkill? We’ve dealt with those invaders before; we could’ve repelled them again."

"You heard the radios. They said it was Stalliongrad’s fault, the explosions at the power plants. What we found here shows this is much bigger than some lunatics with guns in the jungle. They’re colluding... 'damn communists,'” Daring grumbled as she veered off the path and plunged back into the forest, followed by the others without hesitation.

"Ha! But they make good weapons at a decent price; you can’t deny that. My good deal armed this militia in an hour. If we’d waited to reconnect with the nearest city to call for help, we’d be dead."

"Celestia, give me strength... They were gathering dust in the damn garage. Do you really want to fight here?" She glanced at Caballeron with a judging look. It was incredible how he continued walking without problems, knowing exactly when to turn without seeing the path.

"Okay, it wasn’t a good deal, but I’d have found a buyer sooner or later."

Daring raised an eyebrow, showing her frustration. Her partner’s ‘good deals’ were nothing more than simple smuggling. Although their treasure-hunting days were behind them, Caballeron’s bad habits hadn’t changed. She had hoped that with ‘Storm Cloud’ entering their lives, things might change, but it seemed he was just using those deals to save as much money as possible for his studies, even though a child needed nothing more than a few books in primary school.

They continued for what felt like hours until Daring came to a sudden stop. They had reached a paved road. She peeked through the vegetation and observed both sides of the road. She whistled a distinctive signal, which was answered from the other side. She crossed the road quickly, followed by the others at the same pace.

"Is the village empty?" Daring asked as she placed the child into one of the vehicles hidden among the vegetation.

"As you ordered, they’re heading to Cobblehoof... but why?"

"We need to get people to s-."

A deafening roar filled the air. Daring looked up and saw the silhouettes of fighter planes, almost invisible against the dark sky, flying overhead in tight formation, their engines roaring with a grave and threatening tone. She hadn’t heard them approaching, something that immediately terrified her. Hundreds of ideas about what was happening raced through her mind until one became clear; she couldn’t believe such a thing could be happening.

"What the hell...?" Caballeron exclaimed, heading quickly towards the trucks.

The sound of the jets faded just as suddenly as they had appeared. Moments later, the forest was shaken by a series of distant explosions. The detonations resonated through the ground, shaking the trees and causing a cloud of frightened birds to fly in all directions. The explosions came in small, repetitive waves, and Daring lost count of how many there were due to their repetitiveness.

"This can’t be just a terrorist militia. If Luna’s followers are involved with fighter jets, it can’t be a coincidence," Daring murmured initially but raised her voice as she spoke, feeling a chill run down her chest. "We’re being invaded! Damn it, we’re being invaded; we need to get out of here!"

As the explosions ceased in the distance, the buzzing of the fighter jets returned, this time with renewed urgency. They had lost their formation and appeared fewer than those that had passed earlier. They flew over the forest with the same speed they had arrived, disappearing as quickly as they had come.

Daring was in a state of complete desperation as all sorts of thoughts filled her head, but there was no time for panic. She hit the car to calm herself. They had to get out.

"Everyone in the vehicle, now!" Daring shouted, getting into the driver’s seat and gripping the wheel firmly. "We’re heading to Cobblehoof. It’s our best chance to find help and organize a defense."

"What the hell? Defense against what?! Are you crazy?" Caballeron protested from inside the vehicle as Daring ignored him. There was really no need to explain why they had to act.

The engine roared to life, and Daring slammed the accelerator, driving the vehicle onto the road. Four other cars followed closely behind, almost in formation. As they sped down the road, the tension in the air was palpable. Daring kept her eyes fixed on the horizon, knowing that every second could be crucial.

"What will we do when we get there?" Caballeron asked, trying to regain his composure.

"Canterlot should be aware. When we arrive, we’ll help the military with whatever they need and prepare the city for whatever comes next," Daring responded immediately. "We can’t let Equestria fall."

Caballeron snorted in annoyance as he watched the jungle vegetation from the window. He really couldn’t stop Daring from acting this way, but it seemed insane to him. Before Equestria, his daughter was his priority; he hoped she was already safe in that city. Another thought crossed his mind. He turned his head towards the back seat. Why was Twilight Sparkle so far from home and... who is this child?.

❪ ♖ | 🦟 | 🐃 ❫

𝟎𝟏:𝟒𝟓 𝐀𝐌

I’ve counted the seconds, the hours, the months… Years? By ‘Celestia’! I never imagined that my actions would lead to this punishment… It’s far worse than Tartarus itself, something I once considered the worst of experiences. Now, I wouldn’t even wish this upon my worst enemy. I’d rather die a thousand times over. The feeling of helplessness consumes me as I try to scream or simply be noticed by someone who would genuinely try to help me. Every time I see fleeting shadows moving around my immobile eyes, it pierces my soul and reminds me that I’m still alive.

The repugnant taste of the stone, its cold and bitter mineral touch drags across my dry tongue in moments of delirium, constantly reminding me of its dominion over me. Its rough and abrasive texture makes me nauseous whenever I think about it too much, which is more than I’d like, it’s a constant reminder of my imprisonment, so much time has passed that I believe it will become my tomb in life.

I miss the soup my mother used to make for me, although I used to despise it for its unusual flavor that didn’t suit my taste, I’d like to feel that warmth once more… What would my mother think if she saw me now?… Forgive me for everything, for not following your advice, for running away when you needed me most. I wish I could hug you one more time… I’m sorry.

I’m cold… a cold that penetrates my bones, freezing my soul. I can’t do anything about it. This sensation is heartbreaking, an endless agony. I wish I could die… but I’m afraid. Afraid of what comes after death. Is there a hell? If so, who awaits me there?

These thoughts torment me constantly. At first, my mind was filled with hatred and vengeance, vague ideas of what I would do once I was free. But soon, the emptiness took hold of me so quickly that I forgot when it even happened. Observing the haunting image of the statue garden I used to visit when I was in school became unbearable, heartbreaking, and a reminder that I had no control over my surroundings. Every tree, rock, and statue, memorized with obsession. I counted every leaf that fell in autumn and every flower that bloomed in spring. The birds perching on my head, the laughter of children who used to run among the bushes, the conversations of adults about everyday situations… I’ve heard thousands of stories, but in none of them my name, everything repeated endlessly, an endless torture. Had I ceased to exist for the world?

The feeling of emptiness turned into a sense of paranoia. Counting the seconds at first fueled my thirst for vengeance and hatred, but soon it became a relentless reminder of how long I had been in this stone prison. I stopped counting them to try to forget, but the ticking of the clock kept resonating in my mind, accompanied by whispers I couldn’t understand. WHY THE SOUND OF A DAMN CLOCK?!

TICK TOCK TICK TOCK TICK TOCK! STOP, PLEASE!

I was delirious more than I’d like to admit. I was thirsty, but I couldn’t drink. I was hungry, but I couldn’t eat. I was cold, but I couldn’t cover myself. I wanted to scream, but… I couldn’t move. Those last days had been different, vivid memories of my childhood filled my mind. Though I couldn’t change anything, I clung to those memories with all my might, embracing them in my small head as if they were real objects in their fictional map.

The most recurring one was simple to describe. The sun at its peak, a clear sky, a gentle breeze caressing my hair. I was under a tree, on a red picnic blanket with a generic checkered pattern, the aroma of freshly prepared food, a sweet apple pie with which I indulged mixed with the sweet smell of grape juice, I could almost taste them. I was accompanied by my mother, always smiling, dressed in her 90s clothes, which I disliked but suited her perfectly, I vaguely remember we were celebrating my recently obtained Cutie Mark that I had earned at school that day, a chess rook, she said it symbolized ‘leadership’ over others, but I didn’t quite understand it at the time.

Her warm embrace enveloped me as I rested my head on her chest. She gently stroked my hair while I listened to her slow breathing, the beats of her heart in a relaxed rhythm, combined with the movements that rocked me side to side. She accompanied all this with an angelic song she hummed, and at times, I could hear the lyrics that left her lips: ‘Mommy’s little girl needs to go to sleep,’ she whispered. It was early, but I always fell asleep before I could fully enjoy it. For a moment, I thought I had closed my eyes and slept deeply.

A deafening noise snapped me out of my trance. What the hell was that? With my limited vision, I tried to see what had happened, but everything remained the same, frozen as I remembered. The void had returned, accompanied by the relentless ticking of the clock and a white noise that grew louder every second. My sanity began to tear apart my mind, escaping aggressively and abandoning me, plunging me into total despair, trying to scream as if someone could really hear me.

HELP! HELP!! CELESTIA, FORGIVE ME, PLEASE, GET ME OUT OF HERE!! I’LL BE A GOOD GIRL, I’LL NEVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THIS AGAIN!! I WANT TO GO HOME, TO SCHOOL, I WANT MY MOM!! SORRY, SORRY, SORRY, SORRY, SORRY, SORRY, SORRY, SORRY, SORRY, SORRY, SORRY!!!

Her screams echoed in her head, endlessly begging for clemency for her actions. Her voice quickly faded among the unstoppable sound of the invisible clock and the deafening buzzing that seemed to surround her, mixed with mental voices whispering nonsense. The voices seemed happy… They were laughing… WHO’S LAUGHING?!… PRINCESSES, I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY!

CRACK-!

A dry sound resonated in her mind, freeing her from that entire hell. The voices had ceased; she could no longer hear the clock or the buzzing. Silence? Now-...? Before she could continue thinking about what had just happened, the stone surrounding her quickly cracked, and before she knew it, she was free.

The layer of carved stone that had covered her body for so long shattered, flying in all directions and filling the place with a brief flash. The weight of reality didn’t hit her as quickly as that of gravity, which overcame her and made her fall face-first against the hard ground.

Pain flooded her body immediately. She tried to get up as best as she could, rubbing the affected area. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she let out whimpers of pain from the hellish sensation she felt in every corner of her body. It was hard to move without feeling a pang, especially in her joints; her hands and feet were invaded by a constant tingling, worse than thousands of needles stabbing at the same time. Even crying caused her pain.

She struggled to react to her surroundings. She heard some voices, but completely ignored them as she writhed in place. She opened her eyes and tried to look around, but her eyes took time to adjust to the movements of her head, and it felt as if her brain was bouncing inside her skull trying to process everything. It was night; the moon was at its peak. She recognized the statue park she had once visited, but now it was different, the vegetation and the order of things seemed forgotten.

“Come on, we have to get out of here.” A voice from her right spoke, serious and dull.

It took her a moment to react to the voice, but she recognized it instantly, clearly knowing who it was, although its form was barely a blur in her vision. Without thinking, without even understanding why she was doing it, she threw herself at it, wrapping the changeling in her small arms with desperate strength. She squeezed her eyes shut, while a heartbreaking sound came out of her mouth, her practically shattered voice resonating in the place.

“CHRYSALIS! CHRYSALIS! I DON’T WANT TO GO BACK TO THAT HELL! PLEASE!” She screamed between sobs, her voice completely broken by fear. She clung tighter, trembling violently, as if her life depended on it. Her words were barely understandable.

Her eyes, overflowing with more tears, looked with terror at the world around them, as if it could collapse again at any moment and drag her back to that frozen prison. She didn’t want to go back.

“Please, please… don’t let me go… I don’t want… I don’t want to be alone again…” She whispered, barely audible, as her body collapsed onto Chrysalis’. A hand gently stroked her head, trying to smooth down her messy hair. Cozy let out a sigh, trying to regulate her breathing, more calm. She wasn’t going to let go, and it seemed they understood that. She heard the voices exchange a few dialogues as they moved away from the place. She still kept her eyes closed. She just wanted to sleep a little, just a little.

Author's Note

Well, this is my own interpretation of 'Past Sins'. Credits to its creator.

If you like it and want me to continue it or know about an update, visit my WhatsApp Channel.
https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VakdTfH1SWt4B2BOVL2I