Lyra Heartstrings stood upon the foundation of Platform 1, her magnetic boots holding her EVA suit firmly to the platform's exterior. Before her in the airless abyss, the vast ring of the Celestial glowed in its moorings. "I've never seen anything so beautiful."
The Celestial was easily the largest structure ponies had ever built, a barrel-shaped vessel with a diameter of just over a kilometer and a length of several. Its shell was more-or-less uniform, save for the massive structural supports linking the arcane engines to the artificial sun running through its center.
"Never thought I'd care about a dumb machine," Rainbow said. The pegasus wasn't attached to the platform—she hovered freely, occasionally adjusting her position with a light burst of her thruster-wings. "You're right. Twilight sure knows how to design a fancy ship."
"And save our lives." But not the one that mattered.
For the last decade of her life, Lyra had labored on this project. While it was little more than a set of vague blueprints, she saw it fully formed. While others lost hope and fled back to the surface to spend their remaining years with family and friends, she endured. Lyra had no family left to see. Her friends were already here.
The pegasus landed heavily on the platform beside her, shuffling as the electromagnets engaged. "Celestial control, this is Rainbow and Lyra. External inspection of the last section is complete. Can we come back inside yet?"
Pinkie's voice echoed over the radio. Even crackling and distorted, Lyra heard the smile. Pinkie was always smiling, even while the world ended around them. "Roger, Inspection Team sixty-seven! Twilight says you're good to come inside."
Lyra ground her teeth together, tail smacking into the side of her EVA suit. Pinkie could casually reference her dead friends while offering a tray of cupcakes.
"I can inform them myself," Twilight said.
The governor program didn't sound distorted by radio, unlike Pinkie. Twilight Sparkle lacked any of Pinkie's emotion—or any feeling at all, in fact. She'd been dead too long for that. "I detect green readings from structural calibration. Evacuation schedule has been adjusted. Survival projections now read at 78% before Vacuum Collapse event."
"Cool cool," Rainbow said, deflating. Her wings folded, thin plastic sleeves pressed against the suit. Much of her excitement faded. "Can you put that in words I understand? How long?"
"Tomorrow," she said. "That leaves approximately two hours for each of the remaining evacuation carriers."
Tomorrow. The word echoed in Lyra's head. One day until the Celestial took its maiden voyage. One day until they fled the corpse of Equestria.
She spun in place, each step deliberate along Platform 1's ferromagnetic surface. All the way around, until she faced the planet below.
Her home—the home of all Equestrians, and numberless other races. It did not look so much like a corpse right then. Brilliant green, with veins of metal snaking across its continents where the Archologies towered above the landscape. Limitless energy had allowed the entire planet to transform within a generation.
Ponies saw the truth too late, of course. Those roads of progress were actually a noose, constricting a little tighter with every passing year.
"Lyra?" Something jostled her, startling Lyra back to awareness. "Still with me?"
Lyra twitched, then turned to see Rainbow beside her. "Sorry. Guess I spaced out."
The pegasus stared flatly back through her clear helmet, expression harsh. "We work together for how long, and you're just making that stupid joke now?"
She smiled weakly, pretending she hadn't heard it. "Guess we should head back."
"Yeah! One day left to say goodbye, I'm not gonna waste another second!" Lyra felt a heavy click behind her as her partner attached her tether. With their suits connected, it would take the fail of both to let them drift into the abyss.
They started the long trek to Platform 1 airlock 7, with Rainbow Dash tugging on the edge of the line and Lyra keeping her usual pace.
"Come on!" Rainbow urged, after a few minutes. "You must have ponies you want to visit! We've got to catch one of those transports!"
She sighed, then sped up. Rainbow Dash still had ponies she cared about. It wouldn't be right to keep her from saying goodbye.
"Well?" The Pegasus looked back at her, grinning again. "One last trip to Equestria? I can weasel us onto a transport!"
One last trip to say goodbye. One last chance to leave flowers. "Yeah."
"This is your access credential," Rarity said, glaring across the transport desk. She shoved the pair of plastic chips towards them, each one wrapped with a thread. "You will not be permitted aboard without it. Please be careful, Rainbow. I don't want to lose anypony else."
"We will!" Rainbow took hers in her mouth, then tossed it over her shoulders and across her neck. "We'll be up on the next flight, promise!"
Lyra tucked hers away into her satchel, careful not to crush the little bouquet of white roses and lilies within. "Next flight."
They hurried down the hall, as much as any pony could hurry in microgravity. Rainbow Dash had become expert at the strange flight, while Lyra had to rely on her magic, dragging herself along the various grips.
"I find this emotional diversion unwise," said a voice into the empty hall, echoing around them. The governor program again. "Your skills will be critical to the long-term success of the Celestial. Seeing conditions on the surface will only serve to inflict further damage to your mental health."
Rainbow bumped into one of the padded walls, briefly stunned by the program. "Twi, we've gotta go. We're saying goodbye to our home."
"Governor program," she corrected, as emotionless as any voice could speak. "That mare is deceased. Further attachment to her memory serves no productive purpose."
"That's exactly why we have to go," Lyra muttered. "You wouldn't understand. Just open the door."
The program obeyed, and the final docking airlock slid open.
Their ride down to Equestria was uneventful after that. Modern thaumic gravity reflection drives and shielded cockpits meant they barely even heard the rush of air as they descended. The two took seats near the vast empty interior, along with a few other scattered members of the crew who had squeezed their way aboard.
Through the window, Lyra watched black stars transform to warm blue sky.
"Can't believe this is really goodbye..." a unicorn stallion whispered, from the row behind theirs.
"No more Equestria," Rainbow agreed.
"No more universe." The yellow-orange unicorn shifted nervously in his seat. But he didn't seem able to help himself. "Vacuum decay doesn't blow things up, it erases reality as we know it. We have no idea what might be waiting in the Containment Horizon, but it won't be the same universe. Gravity, strong and weak force, everything is—"
Lyra cleared her throat. "We don't need reminding, thanks. We're living through the same apocalypse as you."
The unicorn squeaked faintly, his ears pressing flat and looking suddenly away. "Right, sorry."
Rainbow looked sidelong at her, forcing a smile. She eyed the flowers in Lyra's satchel, then looked up. "If there's a special somepony you're going to visit, you don't have to leave them behind. Need me to weasel my wings into regulations again, I can."
They were already slowing. Instead of blue skies and deserted cloud-cities, Lyra saw towering metal and glass structures. Many lights were out now, windows dirty.
Some were still on, with occasional motion visible inside. Too many.
The Celestial was not an evacuation, it was an escape-pod.
"Nothing you can do for her," Lyra said, levitating her satchel up to eye level. She flicked it open, showing the bouquet inside. "Bonnie's past saving. Was in Ponyville when—"
She felt a soft wing on her shoulder. "I know. Sorry, Lyra. She didn't deserve to go down with—"
Lyra shoved it away, shaking tears from her face. "Obviously! I don't need your validation." She flicked the satchel closed. "Go back to smiling. I'll be fine."
Disembarkation would've been a smooth process—if it weren't for the ponies lining the Spaceport walls. Past towering crates of steaming cryocaskets, past the armored forms of Royal guards in glittering plasteel armor, there waited the lost.
During Lyra's last visit, the city streets of New Canterlot already seemed to overflow with angry creatures. They lacked the rare skills required to take crew positions aboard the Celestial, and their names hadn't come up on the lottery for cryogenic storage. When Equestria died, so would they.
They weren't just a mob anymore—as Lyra walked behind razor wire, she saw a second city. This city was built of sheet metal and cardboard, with the barnyard stench of numberless unwashed creatures. The victims of FlimFlam's genocide, though they were still breathing.
She passed through decontamination, then to the security checkpoint. The pale mare behind the counter stopped her, lifting mirrored lenses away from her face. "Hold it. You really going out there? On hoof?"
Lyra nodded, adjusting the satchel on her shoulder. "I'll be discreet. Ditched the uniform."
Vinyl shook her head sharply. "Not happening. You step outside that door, and we'll have to send your Imprint back to join Princess Twilight in the Celestial's mainframe."
Lyra levitated the satchel higher, flicking it open towards Vinyl. "I have to see her before we go." You of all ponies should understand.
The unicorn peered in, then stiffened. Lyra was right, this mare knew exactly what she wanted to do.
Vinyl tapped her keyboard for a few seconds. "Governor program, I'm taking that leave I didn't use. I'm going with Lyra."
In the packed security booth, Twilight's synthetic voice didn't come through as clearly. All emotion was clearly not beyond her after all—Lyra heard clear frustration in her voice. "This mission cannot forfeit two of its best. Your absence will create a small but measurable drop in our statistical likelihood of success."
"But I still have the right to go," Vinyl said. "Sorry, Governor program. We'll make it quick."
She stepped out from behind the booth, then scanned something at the heavy security gate. Nothing happened.
"Forgive me," said the governor program. "I cannot allow you to be injured or killed by the crowd."
Lyra grunted, and her horn began to glow. "Open the gate, or I'll open it myself."
"Easy." Vinyl touched her shoulder, urging her back. "We don't have to do that. There's—"
"Officer Scratch is correct," Twilight said. "I have arranged the services of drone transport. Please walk to the helipad."
Lyra's mouth fell open. But there was no pony's face to read. The former princess was only data now. She had long since stopped wasting resources drawing an avatar, when there were more important ways to spend processor cycles. "Seriously?"
"I do not communicate in any other way." Despite her words, the governor program now sounded amused. Either that, or Lyra was finally losing it. She should stop personifying a computer program. "Your itinerary is a direct flight to the Ponyville Memorial, correct?"
She nodded.
"Your flight is programmed and the quadcopter is waiting," Twilight said again. "Please, go quickly. If I detect any signs of containment failure, the Celestial will be forced to depart without you. Complete this errand as quickly as possible."
The quadcopter took them from New Canterlot. Lyra watched through plastic windows, staring down at the sprawling desolation beneath.
All creatures knew the end was coming, and the signs of that realization were everywhere. Creatures crowded around campfires in vast city streets where the power had long since stopped flowing. The sprawling interior of their vertical farms, once overflowing with produce, were now brown and lifeless. Empty cloud cities drifted past their transport, pillars crumbling and glass shattered.
Beyond the city, the situation was just as grim. Without climate control, storms ran rampant, drowning some areas in rain while leaving others as windswept wastelands. They passed over village after empty village, as all close enough to Canterlot fled into the final city.
Her companion said little. Occasionally she looked up, giving Lyra a weak smile. Lyra returned it. Every creature in Equestria had suffered loss, or was about to. But few could understand the exact pain that Lyra felt. Vinyl could.
"One last goodbye?" She asked, folding her sunglasses onto her seat. "Then it's up onto that ship, forever."
Lyra nodded. "And one last chance to curse the ones who did this."
Vinyl laughed, bitter and humorless. "Limitless free energy from nothing! The world will never be the same! Guess they were... right about that part."
She could still hear their stupid catchy song, the same one that played on all the holovids. Their first Vacuum Energy plant would be built in Lyra's own hometown. That same plant was so successful that it flooded the whole continent with power. That was the only silver lining—at least they only built one. They'd already be dead otherwise.
Lyra knew when they came to the Ponyville ruins by the drone escort that fell into formation behind them, guiding them down to the surface. They dropped low, settling down onto a cement platform behind high security fences and a shimmering radiation shield.
"The automatic pilot will take off in one hour," said the governor program, opening both doors. "Please be aboard when that happens."
Lyra stood up, taking the satchel over her shoulder. She gave one last nod to her companion. "See you then."
"Yeah."
Lyra walked out onto the blacktop, then forward towards the memorial. There was no mob here, only a handful of large thaumic turrets mounted above. One tracked her at all times, weapons never leaving her.
It had to. Any damage to the barrier, and the True Vacuum within would spread, erasing their planet within a few nanoseconds.
There were no mobs here, no protestors. Only those who had previously lived in Ponyville could visit.
Lyra lingered near the fence, hearing the gentle patter of hooves as Vinyl trotted past. There, through the thick glass and shimmer of magical radiation shielding, she saw the vast abyss that had once been her home town.
There was nothing left within, no broken buildings or dead trees. Instead, a perfect sphere had been gouged from creation, swallowing everything in lightless oblivion. Power crackled from within, washing over the space within.
She squinted, and saw what she knew waited on the edge.
An Alicorn stood vigil at the edge, her horn aimed exactly at the edge. The ground all around her had long since turned to Thaumic glass, her body shriveled and thin. A canopy covered her, and the lines of a plastic feeding tube flowed into her neck. Yet that was all. She didn't move, didn't so much as twitch.
If she did, Equestria and all within would be erased.
"What are you looking at?" Asked a voice, startling her.
Lyra jumped, turning her eyes away from the abyss. A colt stood beside her, with a white coat dappled with brown splotches. A little short for an earth pony, even at his age. "Nothing," she said. "That's what the scientists say. There's nothing in there."
He shrugged, and turned back, walking towards the marble memorial building.
Lyra followed. They were all going to the same place, after all. She couldn't help herself, she was curious. "I think I've seen you before. You were in Cheerilee's class, weren't you?"
The pony looked up, and his sunken features lit up. Suddenly he was grinning, with more excitement than should be possible in such an awful place. "Yeah! Before everything went bad, I..." He slowed near the entrance, glancing nervously at the threshold. "Before my family."
Lyra reached into the satchel, picking the largest rose she could from the bouquet, and offering it to him. "Want to leave this for them?"
He took it in his mouth, nodding eagerly. "Yeah! They'd love—" he trotted through the door, rushing away from her.
Lyra followed into the solemn memorial.
There were no bodies, of course. Instead, the long hall filled with carved portraits, each one bearing the name of a pony who had been there during the Collapse. Lyra knew them all, and had been friends with most. Vinyl was off on one side, speaking in low voices to the image of a grey mare.
There was so little time to say goodbye. Lyra stopped beside her wife's memorial. There were already flowers waiting inside, wild and irregular. Somepony else had been here.
She cleared away the withered husks, and replaced them with the living flowers she had brought. "I don't think I'll be back," she said. "But... I guess that's what you'd want. Didn't save the world so I could stay behind and die." Lyra held her hoof against the inscription, feeling her wife's name carved there. She had been there the day they marked it.
Back then, it felt like the tears would never stop. They had dried in time, though. Lyra's pain transformed to resolve. Together, Equestria built that resolve into a starship.
Not all would survive—most would not. But some would. The memory of Equestria would endure.
Lyra left her wife's memorial a little earlier than she expected. She'd noticed something—Pipsqueak. The colt hadn't just brought the rose to his family's place. There was a blanket there, and a few trays of food. He curled up, resting his head against the wall.
She made her way over, voice low. "Pip, are... what are you doing?"
He sniffed, looking up. "Wanted to be here when it all ends. Didn't... no place on the starship. Not for a useless colt like me."
He flicked the blanket over his head, hiding from her. "I know you're... working up there, on the ship. Should probably get back."
She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. Vinyl stood in the doorway, watching her. There were no other ponies left in the memorial.
The lights flicked off overhead, plunging them into gloom.
Lyra reached into her empty satchel, removing a little plastic chip from inside. She moved the blankets out of the way, resting it gently around Pip's neck. Lyra lifted his head with one hoof, pointing back.
"Pipsqueak, I need you to go with that mare there. Her name is Vinyl... she'll take care of you."
He sniffed, wiping his eyes. "I don't..."
"Now, please." She lifted him onto his hooves. "There's not a lot of time left."
He wobbled, then snapped his forelegs around her in the tightest hug she'd ever felt. "Are you sure?"
"Positive. I'm not finished here anyway."
A few hours later, Lyra watched the Celestial make its first FTL jump. The ring glowed brilliant white, so bright she could see it even from the surface. She felt the magic pass over her coat, making her mane stand on end. Then it vanished, ripping chunks of Platform-1 away into the void.
Lyra walked back inside, and settled down beside her wife's monument. "I'll see you soon, Bonnie. Just a little longer."
