Location: Equus, Everfree City, Castle of The Two Sisters, Guest room, Year of the Sisters Ponidara /3/01, Military time: 1800

The guest room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the enchanted torches mounted along the walls. Each member of Noble Team lay sprawled across the large beds, their bodies shifted into the most comfortable positions they could find while still clad in their armor. Despite the luxurious mattresses and thick, quilted blankets, sleeping in full combat gear was far from ideal.

Carter, lying on the bed closest to the window, had his helmet off, placed carefully on the bedside table. His head rested against a pillow, but his body was turned slightly onto his side, one arm tucked beneath the pillow while the other draped over his chest. Even in rest, his posture carried a hint of tension, his face calm but faintly drawn as though his mind remained partially alert.

Kat, on the bed next to Carter’s, laid on her stomach, her head turned to the side and resting on the corner of her pillow. Her prosthetic arm was carefully tucked against her body, with her legs stretched out with one slightly bent at the knee. Her helmet rested on the floor near her Assault Rifle, which was placed within easy reach. Despite her seemingly relaxed position, the tight set of her jaw suggested her sleep was anything but peaceful.

Across the room, Jun laid on his back, his helmet still on, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. His sniper rifle leaned against the bedframe within arm’s reach, ready for use at a moment’s notice. Unlike the others, his posture was perfectly still, his body rigid like a statue carved from stone. Though his sleep seemed deep, the unyielding nature of his position gave him the appearance of someone ever-watchful, even in rest.

Emile, on the other hand, sat upright on his bed with his pillow wedged against his back, the closest he could get to comfort on his bed. He had taken the longest to fall asleep compared to the others, spending what felt like hours shifting positions, with each attempt leaving him more frustrated than the last. Finally, he found a position that was tolerable, leaning back slightly with his arms on his lap. His helmet remained firmly in place, the skull design glaring into the dimly lit room, as though even in rest he was prepared for a fight. His shotgun, as always, rested on his lap, a silent testament to his readiness for whatever might come next.

Meanwhile, Jorge had traded places with Six for watch duty, waking the Spartan, who had been seated in the guest room’s adjacent bathroom. The room itself, tucked behind an unassuming wooden door, turned out to be a latrinae—a private Roman-style bathroom straight out of ancient history. A stone bench with a carved hole lined the wall, with a tersorium—a communal sponge on a stick—resting in a water-filled stone box nearby. A marble bathtub in the corner added a touch of elegance to the otherwise utilitarian space. Six had been leaning silently against the wall, and with a nod of acknowledgment, he exited to begin his shift. Jorge grimaced behind his helmet as he took Six’s place, leaning back against the tub and feeling forever grateful for the MJOLNIR suit’s waste-recycling system as he resigned himself to the strange yet quiet surroundings.

Now standing outside the bathroom for watch duty was Six. He scanned the area periodically, his head turning every so often with his SMG in his hands, its barrel lowered but ready to fire at a moment’s notice. The hours passed in relative silence, broken only by the faint sounds of the Spartan's movements inside and the occasional noise from the hallway beyond.

The tranquility was broken by a sudden knock at the door—three firm knocks that echoed through the room. Six’s visor snapped toward the door, his grip on his SMG tightening instinctively. His body moved smoothly, silently crossing the room with practiced precision. His left hand reached for the doorknob, which was a large metal ring instead of a knob, while his right hand held the SMG hidden just behind the doorframe, the barrel subtly pointed at torso height due to how short the ponies were in comparison to them.

With a quiet creak, Six opened the door, his visor immediately locking onto the figure standing on the other side. It was one of the Castle Guards, a unicorn clad in polished red armor.

The guard’s expression was neutral, his voice formal but polite. “The princess requests thy presence in the dining room in thirty minutes. She expects all of thee to be there by then.”

Six gave a curt nod. “Understood.” His voice was calm, almost dispassionate.

The guard nodded in return as he trotted off down the hall, his hoofsteps fading into the distance. Six closed the door quietly and turned back toward the room. For a moment, he surveyed his resting teammates before making his way to Carter’s bed.

“Commander.” Six said quietly, nudging Carter’s shoulder.

Carter stirred immediately, his eyes snapping open and his body tensing instinctively. His gaze met Six’s visor, which he relaxed slightly upon recognizing him. “What is it?” he asked, his voice low and slightly groggy.

“Castle Guard. The princess wants us in the dining room in thirty minutes."

Carter sat up, rubbing his face with his hand as he processed the information. He nodded after a moment. “Alright. Go wake the others.” he instructed. As Six turned to leave, Carter asked, “Where’s Jorge?”

“In the bathroom.” Six replied simply before moving toward the next bed.

Six’s approach to waking the others was methodical. He started with Kat, nudging her shoulder lightly. She woke with a faint groan, her eyes opening to meet his visor. She nodded silently, pushing herself up and swinging her legs off the bed.

Jun, much like Carter, stirred the moment Six nudged him, his helmeted head tilting slightly before he nodded in acknowledgment.

When Six approached Emile, the Spartan showed no immediate reaction, his breathing slow and steady. Unsure if he was still asleep, Six reached out to shake his shoulder—but before he could make contact, Emile's hand shot up, batting Six’s away with a lazy but deliberate motion.

“Don’t touch me.” Emile muttered, his voice groggy but calm. The faint clink of his shotgun shifting as he moved signaled that he had been awake, or at least hovering between sleep and consciousness. He moved his legs over to the side of the bed, his helmet tilting slightly toward Six before leaning forward with a tired sigh.

Six held still for a moment before giving a slight nod and moving on without a word.

With the others awake, only one Spartan remained. Six turned towards the bathroom door and knocked twice, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet room.

He stood there silently, waiting. A moment later, the faint sound of movement came from within, followed by the soft creak of the door as it swung open. Jorge stepped out, his broad frame nearly filling the doorway. He paused briefly, his helmeted gaze shifting to Six before he silently stepped past him to join the others in the main room.

By now, the rest of Noble Team was already preparing for the day ahead, their movements efficient and methodical. Though they had slept in their armor, each Spartan moved with quiet focus, double-checking their gear, systems, and equipment to ensure everything was in working order.

As Jorge stepped further inside, Jun looked up from securing his gear and glanced toward Carter. “Boss, is it a good idea to bring all of this to the dining room?” he asked, his voice calm but thoughtful.

Carter paused, his hand hovering over his helmet as he considered the question. Walking into a formal dining setting fully armed wasn’t exactly the best way to maintain diplomacy. After a brief moment of thought, he shook his head. “No.” he said firmly. “It’d probably send the wrong message. Leave the heavy gear here. Concealed weapons only—just in case.”

Kat slid her pistol into a concealed holster at her side, her expression unreadable as she stood and placed her helmet on. Six remained near the door, his SMG secured in his right thigh holster. Emile clipped the handle of his energy sword to his armored hip, its inactive state ensuring it remained as unobtrusive as possible. Meanwhile, Carter opted to carry only the tablet—a stark contrast to his usual loadout—while Jun and Jorge left their weapons behind entirely.

With a final glance around the room to ensure his team was ready, Carter reached for the door and pulled it open, motioning for them to step outside.

The hallway was dimly lit, the flickering glow of enchanted torches casting shifting patterns along the wooden walls. Their armored boots thudded against the marble floor as they moved, the quiet hum of the castle settling around them. However, after only a few steps, Carter suddenly slowed to a stop, a realization dawning on him.

He turned slightly to his team, his voice breaking the silence. “Does anyone know where the dining room is?”

For a moment, no one answered. Kat turned her head slightly, glancing at the others before giving a silent shake of her head. Jun’s visor tilted toward Jorge, as if checking for confirmation, before he gave a subtle shake of his own. Jorge shifted his stance, his helmet dipping in a slow, wordless no. Emile lingered for a second longer before giving a faint shrug and shaking his head as well. Finally, Six, standing slightly apart from the rest, remained still for a brief moment before giving a single, silent shake of his head.

Carter exhaled sharply, his frustration carefully contained. He glanced down the long corridor, considering their options. From their short time in this place the castle seemed to be an intricate maze of hallways, and aimlessly wandering around wasn’t exactly an efficient plan. His gaze soon landed on a castle guard stationed nearby, standing rigidly at attention beside one of the doors.

Walking towards him, Carter addressed the guard with a calm but firm tone. “Can you lead us to the dining room?”

The guard’s expression remained neutral as he gave a sharp nod. “This way.” he said simply, turning on his hooves and gesturing for them to follow.

With their guide leading the way, Noble Team fell into step behind him, their footsteps muffled against the red-tan rugs that stretched through the hall. The faint hum of magical torches and the distant sounds of the castle were the only noises that accompanied them as they moved, their destination finally clear.

The Spartans remained silent as they followed their guide, their visors reflecting the dim glow of the torches. Though their weapons had been left behind save for their concealed sidearms, they carried themselves with the same disciplined awareness as ever. Each of them noting every detail of their surroundings, from the positioning of guards to the number of hallways they passed, instinctively mapping out the area in their minds.

The Castle Guard leading them suddenly came to a halt in front of a large set of wooden double doors, before turning to face Carter and the rest of Noble Team. With a polite but firm nod, he gestured toward the entrance. “The dining room lies beyond. The princesses await thy presence.”

Carter gave a small nod of appreciation. “Thanks.”

The guard nodded his head slightly before stepping aside and trotting back to his post. Without hesitation, Carter reached forward and pushed against the doors. With a smooth, near-silent motion, the large doors swung open, revealing the grandeur within.

The room beyond was vast, its high arched ceiling supported by towering white stone columns, each carved with intricate patterns of celestial imagery. The polished marble floor gleamed beneath the combined glow of natural and candlelight, reflecting the golden hues that filtered through the tall windows lining the walls. Beyond the glass, the sky stretched in deep blues and rich ambers, with the sun lingering at the edge of the horizon, its final rays casting long, fading streaks of light across the landscape. Though the warmth of the day still clung to the air, a faint crispness had begun to creep in, subtle yet undeniable. Along the walls, torches flickered gently, their soft glow blending with the approaching twilight.

Above, grand chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their iron frames elegantly curved and adorned with connecting rods that supported clusters of thick candles. The flames danced in unison, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across the high ceiling and columns, adding a regal warmth to the vast chamber.

Scattered throughout the room were several marble tables, their polished surfaces reflecting the soft candlelight above. The legs of each table bore intricate sun and moon motifs, seamlessly blending artistry with function. Surrounding them were marble curule seats, their curved frames designed not only for comfort but as a subtle reminder of the status of those who dined here.

However, the majority of the tables remained unoccupied. The room was empty save for the center, where a long dining table stood, stretching nearly half the length of the chamber. Ten seats lined each side, with two at the lower ends.

As they stepped further into the hall, their eyes were immediately drawn to the figures seated in the center.

At the end of the table, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna sat side by side, their regal postures calm yet attentive. Celestia, draped in her golden regalia—ornate shoes, a matching crown, and a finely crafted peytral—held a composed expression, but the signs of fatigue were evident. Faint bags lingered beneath her magenta eyes, and though her long, pink mane cascaded elegantly over her shoulder, there was a heaviness to her gaze, betraying her exhaustion. In contrast, Luna, adorned in cyan shoes and a black crown, was wide awake, her sharp turquoise eyes focused and alert. Her violet blue coat gleamed softly under the candlelight, with her expression carrying a quiet intensity as she observed the Spartans.

Seated on the right side of the table was Onyx Star, the white-coated unicorn stallion, his neatly groomed gray mane partially tucked beneath the high collar of his fine silver cloak, sat with a dignified yet weary air. Though far from as fatigued as Celestia, the subtle droop in his posture and the occasional slow blink of his golden eyes suggested he, too, had been up for longer than he would have liked. Despite this, his demeanor remained composed, his gaze landing on the Spartans.

However, it was the two unfamiliar ponies that immediately caught the team's attention.

The first was a grayish-heliotrope unicorn mare with a light grayish arctic blue mane styled in gentle waves. A golden caduceus adorned her flank, marking her as someone connected to medicine or healing. Though she kept her composure, there was an undeniable tension in her posture. Her eyes flicked between the Spartans, betraying a hint of nervousness, though she made no attempt to voice her concerns. Draped over her body was a simple brown cloak, its fabric slightly worn but well-kept, concealing most of her frame. Despite her unease, she remained quiet, studying them with wonder.

The second was a dark, gray-coated unicorn stallion with a black mane streaked with dark blue stripes. Unlike the first one, he was adorned in ornate attire—dark blue shoes, a royal purple cape lined with soft white fur, and a dark blue metal headband resting just below his horn. A polished dark blue clasp secured his cape at the neck, its metallic sheen catching the glow of the chandeliers above.

The dark gray-coated unicorn stallion remained silent as they approached, his emerald eyes fixed on them with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. His gaze flickered briefly to Princess Celestia and Luna before settling once more on the towering armored figures. Unlike the mare beside him, he showed no nervousness—only quiet scrutiny, as if still trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

The warmth of the golden candlelight flickered across the vast marble dining hall as Noble Team moved toward the long banquet table, their footsteps echoed on the marble floor beneath them.

Celestia was the first to speak, her voice carrying a warmth that cut through the quiet. “Sir Carter, Noble Team. We thank thee for arriving at this time.” she said smoothly, gesturing lightly toward the seats along the left side of the table. “Please, take a seat.”

Carter, standing at the front of his team, remained still for a moment before shaking his head slightly. “No problem, Princess. But… I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to sit down.” His voice was polite but firm, his visor tilting toward the chairs. “We’re heavier than any being you’ve likely encountered before. These chairs won't hold our weight.”

Celestia, however, remained unfazed, her smile unwavering. “Thou need not to worry.” She reassured him. “Our sister hath already informed us of thy… weight problem.” There was a trace of amusement in her tone, though it lacked any mockery—merely an observation. She gestured toward the chairs. “These seats have been enchanted to withstand great force. Thou wilt find that they shall not break beneath thee.”

The Spartans exchanged brief glances. Kat, who had been about to voice her skepticism, remained silent, though her sharp gaze flicked toward the marble curule seats with mild distrust.

Slowly, one by one, the Spartans moved toward the seats, testing them carefully before committing their full weight. To their mild surprise, the enchanted chairs held firm, their structure remaining completely intact under the immense wight of their armor.

Carter was the last to sit, his hands pressing against the arms of the chair as he lowered himself down. The seat did not so much as creak beneath his weight.

Satisfied, Celestia gave a small nod before turning her attention to the two unicorns on the right side of the table. “Now, allow us to make introductions.”

She motioned toward the grayish-heliotrope unicorn mare, whose light grayish arctic blue mane cascaded gently down her shoulders. The mare straightened slightly, though the subtle stiffness in her posture betrayed a lingering nervousness.

“This is Radiant Hope, our personal student in the magical arts.” Celestia introduced warmly.

Radiant Hope blinked, her ears twitching slightly as her violet-blue eyes flitted across each Spartan. Finally, she gave a small, hesitant wave before speaking. “H-Hello.” she said, her voice soft, though tinged with an innocent curiosity. “Our name is Radiant Hope. It’s… um, nice to meet thee.”

There was a brief pause before she turned slightly, motioning toward the unicorn stallion beside her.

“And this is Sombra, our coltfriend.” She added, smiling up at him.

Sombra, who had remained eerily silent up until now, gave a slow nod, his piercing emerald eyes locking onto Carter before briefly scanning the rest of Noble Team. Unlike Radiant, there was no hesitation in his movements—only curiosity and careful calculation.

“Princess Celestia.” he said, his emerald eyes flicking briefly to Luna before settling back on her. “Who are these beings?” His gaze lingered on the Spartans, unreadable yet unwavering, as if weighing the implications of their presence.

Celestia, unfazed, gave a small, almost casual nod. “They are travelers from another world.” she said smoothly. “A world beyond our own, one among the stars above. They are here as our guests until we and our sister find a way to return them home.”

Sombra blinked, his head tilting slightly. “What?” he muttered, the concern in his voice giving way to disbelief.

Radiant Hope, however, reacted far differently. The nervousness that had been lingering in her posture vanished in an instant, replaced by wide-eyed wonder. “Wait, really?” she exclaimed, her voice rising with excitement. Her violet-blue eyes sparkled as she leaned forward eagerly, her earlier hesitation completely forgotten. “Thou means they truly come from beyond the stars?”

Celestia chuckled softly, nodding. “Indeed, Radiant.”

Hope turned back to the Spartans, practically vibrating with curiosity, but before she could say anything, Carter reached up and unlocked his helmet. With a smooth motion, he removed it and placed it on the table in front of him, revealing a strong, clean-cut face with short dark brown hair, blue eyes, and a few faint scars along his jawline.

“Hi, my name’s Carter.” he said, his voice firm yet polite. “I’m the leader of our group here.” He gestured toward his team, continuing the introductions. “This is Kat, our tech expert.”

Kat followed his lead, removing her helmet and setting it on the table. Her short, dark brown buzz cut was immediately visible, along with the faint scar on the left side of her forehead. Her hazel-blue eyes studied Radiant Hope and Sombra for a brief second before she raised her prosthetic hand in a brief wave. “Hi.” she greeted simply, her metalic hand waving slightly before she lowered it back underneath the table.

Carter continued, motioning next to Jun. “Our recon expert, Jun.”

Jun pulled off his helmet and set it down, revealing his shaved head, brown eyebrows, and striking blue eyes. A tattoo of a fist clutching three arrows ran down the left side of his face, standing out against his light tan skin. He gave a casual nod, his tone light. “Pleasure.”

“Jorge.” Carter said next, nodding toward the largest Spartan. “Our weapons specialist.”

Jorge removed his helmet, placing it beside the table. His short dark blond hair and thick mustache framed his face, but the most noticeable feature was the long scar that stretched from his right eye to his forehead. His light tan skin bore the marks of years of battle, yet his expression remained calm and steady. “Nice to meet you.” he said, his deep voice measured but polite.

Carter then gestured toward the last two members of the team. “And that’s Emile.”

Unlike the others, Emile made no attempt to remove his helmet. Instead, he remained still, turning his head slightly to face Radiant Hope and Sombra, before giving them a small nod. “Sup.”

Finally, Carter nodded toward the last Spartan. “And this is Six.”

Six remained as silent as ever, offering only a slight nod. Like Emile, his helmet stayed firmly in place, his unreadable visor giving nothing away.

Sombra’s emerald gaze lingered on each Spartan in turn, his expression unreadable. His eyes flickered between each Spartan before settling back on Carter. “From the way thou introduced thyself… and the titles thou hast given each other…” he said slowly, his tone steady but laced with curiosity. “Art thou warriors of some kind?”

Carter gave a small nod. “In a way, yes.” he confirmed, his voice even. “We work for the UNSC, the United Nations Space Command. We’re soldiers.”

Sombra’s brows furrowed slightly, but before he could ask more, the sound of approaching hooves caught their attention.

A hoofmaid—a mare clad in a neatly pressed white apron—walked toward the table, carrying herself with practiced grace. A small wax tablet balanced on her hoof, and a stylus rested in her mouth. She stopped at the head of the table, dipping into a short bow. “Good evening, Your Majesties.” she greeted politely before lifting her gaze toward the guests. “May we take thy orders?”

Celestia, still smiling, was the first to speak. “Yes, some strawberry tarts, please.” she requested.

Radiant Hope, who had mostly recovered from her earlier excitement, perked up at the question. “Oh! Sweet pie, please!” she said with a soft giggle.

Beside her, Sombra relaxed slightly, his earlier curiosity settling into quiet contemplation. “Some plum tarts will be enough for us.” he said before he gently draped a foreleg around Radiant Hopes shoulder.

Luna, resting her foreleg on the table, added her request next. “Pineapple.” she said, her voice softer but firm.

Onyx Star, who had remained quiet up until now, cleared his throat before speaking. “Strawberries will suffice for us.” he said, his tone refined but polite.

The hoofmaid nodded, writing down their requests with her mouth on the stylus with careful precision. Once finished, she turned to Carter. “And for thee, sir?”

Carter paused for a moment before tilting his head slightly. “What’s on the menu?”

The hoofmaid gave a slight nod before reciting the list. “For tonight’s meal, we have fruit tarts, strawberry tarts, plum tarts, hay, honey cake, Bite Acuda, Manticore, salad, minestrone, barley soup with bread, sweet pie, and pineapple.”

Carter’s brow furrowed slightly. “Bite Acuda, what's that?” he repeated, his curiosity piqued.

The hoofmaid nodded, her tone professional as she explained. “Tis a type of fish that resides in the forest, sir.”

Carter considered it for a moment before giving a slight nod. “I’ll take that.”

Beside him, Kat gave a small shrug. “I’ll have the same.” she said simply.

Jun, who had been resting his forearms on the table, chimed in next. “Barley soup.”

Jorge tilted his head slightly. “What’s Manticore?” he asked, his deep voice carrying a note of interest.

The hoofmaid responded promptly. “Tis a type of steak, sir.”

Jorge nodded, the answer seemingly sufficient. “I’ll take that then.”

Emile, without hesitation, added his order. “Same.”

Finally, all eyes turned toward Six, who had remained silent throughout the exchange. Without a moment’s pause, he spoke. “Minestrone.”

The hoofmaid swiftly jotted down the final order, her stylus pressing lightly into the wax before she lifted her head. “Tis that all for thee?” she asked, glancing at Celestia for confirmation.

Celestia gave a gentle nod. “Yes, that will be all.” she said with a warm smile.

Just as the hoofmaid turned to leave, one of the large dining hall doors creaked open—not loudly, but enough to draw the attention of those seated.

“Wait!”

A young filly’s voice rang through the chamber, filled with urgency.

Everyone turned toward the source of the sound as a small, light arctic bluish-gray filly rushed inside. Her ceruleanish-white mane bounced with each hurried step, streaked with very light cerulean stripes.

As the filly came to a stop, Luna’s expression softened, a warm smile touching her lips. “Thou came.” she said fondly, her voice carrying a hint of warmth and happiness.

The filly quickly dipped her head in apology. “Sorry! We came late—we forgot what time ’twas.”

Luna chuckled softly before rising from her seat and trotting gracefully toward the little filly. “’Tis of no matter.” she said gently. “We are glad thou came regardless.”

Without hesitation, the two suddenly fell into an animated, synchronized motion, their movements practiced and playful.

“Moonlight, moonlight.” they chimed, bouncing lightly on the tips of their hooves.

“Fireflies awake.” they continued, dropping their torsos to the ground, their front hooves resting beside their heads as if playing peekaboo.

“Make a wish.” they recited, standing back up on all fours, closing their eyes, and placing one hoof over their chests like a pledge.

“And do a little shake!” They turned slightly, shaking their flanks next to each other, before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

Noble Team watched the exchange in complete silence. Their face tilted in confusion as they watched.

'What the hell are we watching?' was the unspoken sentiment.

Emile's visor shifted slightly toward Luna, his tone careful but laced with mild confusion. “Uh… was that some kind of ritual or…?”

Luna, still smiling, turned to face them. “Nay, Emile. ‘Tis but a simple rhyme.” she said lightly before gesturing toward the filly beside her. “Allow us to introduce thou to our personal student—Snowdrop.”

The room remained silent as the small filly stood near Luna, her ears twitching slightly as she sensed the eyes upon her. Despite her clear excitement from moments before, she now seemed to shrink slightly under the attention of so many strangers.

After a brief pause, she inhaled softly before lifting her head, her light grayish arctic blue eyes tilting in the direction of Noble Team. “Um… h-hello.” she greeted, her voice gentle yet carrying a slight timidity. “Our name is Snowdrop… ’tis nice to meet thee.”

Her words were polite, though there was a distinct nervousness to them, her hooves shifting slightly against the marble floor. She kept her gaze forward, though something about the way her eyes didn’t quite meet theirs felt… off.

Emile, whose head was still slightly tilted in confusion from the earlier interaction, finally straightened slightly. “Right…” he muttered under his breath, his tone carrying a mixture of bemusement and uncertainty.

Luna, sensing Snowdrop’s hesitation, gently nudged her side with a reassuring touch of her wing. “Come, Snowdrop, take thy seat.” she said kindly before turning and trotting back toward her own beside Celestia.

Snowdrop gave a small nod before stepping forward. Her ears twitched, and she moved carefully, her steps slow and deliberate. The Spartans watched as she approached the seating area. However, rather than moving toward one of the unoccupied chairs, she instead made her way toward a very much occupied one—Jorge’s.

Before anyone could say a word, the small filly hopped onto Jorge’s lap with surprising accuracy.

The moment she made contact, she froze.

The room went silent.

Jorge stared at the filly, mild confusion practically radiating from him.

Snowdrop, now rigid as stone, sat perfectly still as the realization dawned on her.

The massive armored figure beneath her was definitely not a chair.

Then, in a panicked blur of motion, she leapt off Jorge with an alarmed yelp, landing clumsily on the floor before quickly scrambling upright.

“We-We are sorry! We did not know somepony was sitting there!” she blurted out, her little voice carrying a frantic urgency as she lowered her head in a hasty, apologetic bow.

Jorge, whose hands had instinctively hovered slightly in surprise from the sudden weight on his lap, turned his head toward her, his deep voice laced with concern. “How… did you not know?” he asked, his tone gentle but puzzled.

Luna, who had already begun trotting back toward Snowdrop, answered before the filly could respond. Her voice was soft but carried a distinct sadness. "Because her world is not seen through sight, Sir Jorge."

Jorge’s head snapped toward Luna, his brow furrowing. The rest of Noble Team shifted slightly, exchanging brief, puzzled glances.

A quiet stillness fell over the table as the weight of her words lingered in the air. Then, piece by piece, the realization clicked into place.

Jorge slowly turned his gaze back to Snowdrop, who stood small and motionless, still bowing slightly in apology.

Then it hit him—harder than he expected.

This tiny filly… was blind.

For a brief moment, he wasn’t a Spartan anymore.

He wasn’t a supersoldier trained for war.

He wasn’t a hardened warrior clad in impenetrable armor.

For a fleeting moment, he was just Jorge.

A man standing before someone far, far smaller than him.

Jorge, after a long pause, finally shook his head slightly. His deep voice, usually firm and steady, softened. “It’s fine.” he assured her, his tone far more gentle than before.

Snowdrop’s ears perked slightly, sensing the lack of anger in his voice.

Jorge then glanced at the empty chair beside Radiant Hope before looking back down at the filly. He hesitated only briefly before standing up, his massive frame rising to its full height as he stepped away from his seat.

Luna, watching his movements, tilted her head in confusion. “Sir Jorge?”

Jorge turned slightly, looking back at Snowdrop. “Do you want help getting into another seat?” he asked, his tone careful.

Snowdrop hesitated, her tiny hooves shifting slightly against the floor. She seemed unsure, her ears twitching as if considering the offer. After a few seconds, she gave a small, timid nod. “O-Okay.”

Without another word, Jorge knelt down.

Snowdrop let out a startled squeak as Jorge carefully lifted her, setting her onto his massive shoulder.

Her little body started to squirm immediately.

“Ah! W-Wait—!” she stammered, her legs flailing slightly as she instinctively clung to the side of his face.

“Relax.” Jorge rumbled, his voice calm and steady. “I’m just picking you up so I can move you to the seat.”

Snowdrop’s breath hitched slightly, but as she processed his words, she gradually stopped squirming, though her tiny hooves still gripped the side of his head.

The sight of a massive, 7.9-foot-tall Spartan carrying a tiny, blind filly on his shoulder was something no one at the table had ever expected to witness.

Radiant Hope, seated beside the empty chair, watched in quiet amazement as Jorge gently set Snowdrop down onto the seat beside her. Onyx Star, seated further down the table, remained silent, his golden eyes reflecting quiet intrigue, as if witnessing something far more significant than a simple act of kindness.

Sombra beside Hope observed the scene with a calm but thoughtful expression. He had expected a different reaction from the Spartan—perhaps indifference or a lack of patience—but not this. Not the quiet care with which Jorge handled the filly, nor the deliberate gentleness in his movements. His emerald eyes flickered with contemplation as he studied the towering soldier, the contrast between Jorge’s imposing figure and Snowdrop’s small, delicate frame lingering in his thoughts.

“There.” Jorge said simply as he carefully set Snowdrop down onto the cushion.

Snowdrop shifted slightly, pressing her tiny hooves against the seat as she adjusted her position. After a moment, she tilted her head upward in Jorge’s direction. “Thank thee, Sir Jorge.” she said softly.

Jorge gave a slight nod before replying, his voice calm but firm. “No problem.”

The room remained quiet for a few moments before Snowdrop suddenly spoke again.

“Um… is the hoofmaid still here?”

The hoofmaid, who had been watching the scene with wide eyes, quickly straightened. “Yes, Snowdrop.” she said, dipping her head slightly.

Snowdrop’s ears twitched slightly before she smiled faintly. “Could… could we have some Bite Acuda, please?”

“Of course.” she said, jotting down the request before finally turning to leave.

As the hoofmaid turned to leave, Jorge quietly returned to his seat, his large frame settling back into place. Snowdrop, now comfortably seated beside Radiant Hope, fidgeted slightly, her small hooves tracing absentminded circles on the smooth marble table as she adjusted to her surroundings.

Celestia, who had been watching the exchange with quiet amusement, cleared her throat lightly, redirecting the room’s attention. She turned toward Carter, her regal posture unwavering. “Now, Sir Carter, allow us to discuss what we have arranged for thee today.” she began smoothly.

Carter, who had been watching Jorge out of the corner of his eye, refocused on the princess. “Alright. What’s the plan?” he asked, his tone professional.

Celestia smiled. “We believe it would be beneficial for thee to become familiar with our city and tis surroundings. Therefore, we have arranged for our student and our sister’s student to escort thee through Everfree City.”

Carter leaned back slightly in his seat, his arms folding over his chest. “A tour of the city?” he asked, his tone neutral.

“Indeed.” Celestia confirmed with a small smile.

Carter considered it for a moment before giving a slow nod. “That’s fine with us.” he agreed before tilting his head slightly. “How long are we talking?”

“For as long as thou wishes.” she said simply.

Carter hummed in acknowledgment before shifting his stance slightly. His tone grew more serious as he moved to the next matter at hand. “And what about the plan to get us back to the UNSC?” he asked. “Has any progress been made?”

Celestia’s expression remained calm, though a trace of thoughtfulness lingered in her gaze. “We have already begun gathering the necessary supplies for constructing it.” she assured him. “It shall take time, but rest assured, we are making progress.”

Before Carter could respond, another voice broke into the conversation.

“Constructing? What constructing dost thou speak of?”

All eyes turned toward Sombra, who had remained largely silent until now. His sharp emerald eyes flickered with confusion as he looked between Celestia and Carter, his expression no longer unreadable but uncertain.

Celestia shifted her attention to him and gave a small nod. “We speak of the mirror portals.” she revealed. “The ancient gateways crafted through Star Swirl’s research, allowing passage beyond our world.”

Radiant Hope blinked, her brow furrowing slightly. “But… how?” she asked, confusion lacing her voice. “We thought all of Star Swirl’s research on the magical arts were destroyed.”

Celestia’s gaze softened. “Most of his research was lost, yes.” she admitted. “However, a few remnants remained intact. One of these was the knowledge of the mirror portals. We intend to construct one so that Sir Carter and his team may return home.”

Hope’s eyes widened slightly. “Truly?” she breathed, her voice filled with intrigue.

However, Snowdrop, who had been silently listening the entire time, suddenly perked up. Her ears twitched, and she lifted her head slightly in the direction of Celestia. “Wait… what dost thou mean by ‘mirror portals’?” she asked, her voice small but curious. “And… why would we need to use one to return Sir Carter, and his group home?”

Luna, who had remained observant throughout the exchange, turned toward her student with a soft gaze. "Snowdrop.” she began gently, “Sir Carter and his team are not of this world.”

Snowdrop’s head tilted slightly. “They… they aren’t?”

“Nay.” Luna confirmed, her voice calm and patient. “They hail from beyond the stars, from a world far from our own. They are here by forces unknown, and our goal is to help them return whence they came.”

Snowdrop’s tiny mouth formed a small “o” shape as she processed the information. “Oh…” she murmured softly.

Before any further questions could be asked, the sound of multiple sets of hooves approaching drew the attention of those seated at the table.

Four hoofmaids—two unicorns and two earth ponies—entered, each carefully balancing multiple plates. The unicorns levitated four dishes each, their horns glowing with precise magical control, while the earth ponies skillfully carried two plates each—one balanced atop their heads, the other placed on their backs.

With practiced ease, the hoofmaids moved around the table, distributing the meals with graceful efficiency.

The first plates were set down before Carter and Kat, the unmistakable aroma of their meal filling the air—a light, savory scent with faint hints of citrus and herbs. The dish itself was as unusual as its name suggested, resembling an anglerfish, without the bioluminescent rod on its head. Instead of fins, it had membranous, bat-like wings that once allowed it to glide through the air. Its natural teeth had been removed, leaving only the smooth, steamed flesh exposed, wisps of heat still rising from its surface.

Next came Jun’s barley soup, the rich scent of broth and grains wafting softly from the bowl. Floating near the center was a thick slice of rustic bread, its edges slightly crisped from toasting, slowly absorbing the savory liquid beneath it.

The plates for Jorge and Emile followed, each carrying a cut of Manticore steak larger than their hands. The meat was thick, its deep, dark red coloration standing out against the silver plate, with faint wisps of steam curling from its surface. As the plate was placed before him, Emile reached up, unlatching his helmet and pulling it free. The scars on his dark brown face were minimal but noticeable, thin lines marking old wounds across his skin. He set his helmet down beside him before picking up the utensils.

Finally, Six’s bowl of minestrone was served, the steaming broth rich with vegetables and herbs, its scent blending into the air alongside the rest of the feast.

Each plate included silver silverware designed with pony hooves in mind—every utensil had a wide, shovel-like handle with an opening large enough for a hoof to slip through. Despite the unconventional design, the Spartans wasted no time adjusting.

Carter and Kat took the first bites of their meal, their expressions neutral as they silently judged the taste. Jun lifted his spoon, scooping up a mix of barley and broth before biting into the softened bread. Jorge eyed his steak for a brief moment before cutting into it, his usual patience giving way to the simple pleasure of eating. Emile dug into his steak without hesitation, his usual patience giving way to the simple pleasure of eating.

Meanwhile, Six, as always, remained silent. With one hand lifting his helmet just slightly revealing his mouth as he used the silver spoon of the provided silverware, quietly eating his meal without a word.

Across the table, the ponies had also begun their meal. Celestia and Luna ate with practiced grace, their motions smooth and effortless. Sombra, ever composed, took measured bites, his expression unreadable as he occasionally glanced toward the Spartans. Radiant Hope, ate at a steady pace while still casting curious glances at the Spartans. Snowdrop carefully nibbled at her food, her ears twitching every so often as she listened to the quiet sounds around her. Onyx Star, as composed as ever, ate in silence, his golden eyes flicking between the others at the table, taking in every detail.

The dining hall remained quiet, save for the soft clinking of silverware against plates and bowls. At this moment, there were no questions, no discussions—just the simple act of eating, shared between two vastly different groups.

Author's Note

Hoped you guys liked it. Next one is prob coming out real soon also what are your thoughts on Snowdrop?