Converting a World

Her hooves clacked on the tile floor beneath her. The sound they made was nearly deafening in the silence, as Celestia looked towards the door at the opposite end of the hallway, standing between a set of guards, their golden armor gleaming in the buzzing lights overhead. The pair, a unicorn mare and an earth pony stallion, seemed ready to jump in between her and the other door, as the three of them paused in the middle of the corridor.

The silence was worse than the clack of metal shoes on the ground, but Celestia, with her violet eyes locked on the door, stood stock still, her little ponies standing with her. She wished, not for the first time, that she could bring the stallion closer to her, as she noticed his stance was not quite so strong as the mare. She wished she could reassure him that this would be over soon, and that it would be alright.

She wished she could lie to him. That was not the first time she had wished such. Nor, she might admit if only to herself, would it be the only lie she told her ponies. But he would believe her, just as they would, his old life already nearly forgotten, as he stood with her now. A year ago, he’d been a man, she thought of African descent, or so he’d said, who’d grown up in the heartland of America.

He’d volunteered to be here…both today, and to take the change. It had been a horrible time, honestly. The first few attempts, barely successful, even by the overly generous metrics of the scientists behind the project. But with people like ‘Coal Blade’, as he now called himself, it had eventually come to the point where the ‘ponification’ process was stable, and they could convert a million a day into ponies.

She lamented the need for it. This was not what many of the people of this world would wish for. But, it had become necessary. One year ago, in the north pacific ocean, her continent had appeared, drawn through a ‘crack’ between dimensions into this world. No one knew why, and the transport had ripped the magic from her little ponies, leaving them nearly decrepit and barely able to move.

It had taken months to restore themselves, so they could start walking around, and the pegasi could fly again. But it was inevitable that they would. Magic was transfinite, a word she’d learned from the humans studying the phenomenon. It could be exhausted in the moment, it had a limit on how much it could put out at one time, but it would recover eventually, and thus it had been.

What they hadn’t expected was that magic was wholly incompatible with their world. It changed the flora and fauna, giving it properties it never had before. Worse was what it did to the humans though. If it had killed them, that might have been a kindness, as then they would at least have rested, but no, it made things of them. Some were simple transformations into other species of her homeworld, but others…they were worse.

She remembered that first time one of them, on a plane passing just that little bit too close to the dome of light, had someone change into…she had heard the humans call it a ‘kaiju’. She wasn’t entirely convinced. Those at least mostly seemed to have forms, seemed to be solid things. This person, for they never did figure out who it was, had changed into a massive cloud like being.

That had taken a dozen or more master unicorns, including Twilight and her friends, to contain, and in the end she’d been forced to burn it away, when it proved nothing remained of the person it had been. Since, they’d been looking for a way to stop this. To slow the barrier, to control it somehow. Their best was the Conversion Process, and to be fair, it seemed to be working for the moment.

But the humans were resisting, claiming it was brainwashing them, changing them. To be fair, it sort of was. You didn’t change species without some mental effects. Going from omnivore to herbivore alone would cause all kinds of alterations, not to mention the brain chemistry, and the sudden addition of a magical sense, one of three depending on the process, and it was a given they would change.

But there was nothing malicious about it. These so-called ‘New Foals’ that everyone seemed to be frightened of were the exceptions, and most of those were abuse victims, or prisoners that had been forcefully subjected to a flawed version of the conversion process. She cared for them, as best she could, but the world seemed to see that as nothing more than her taking them in as slaves.

Thus it came to this. She was here at this island, a small atoll a hundred miles from the Equestrian coast. To meet with…she wasn’t sure. A representative of Humanity she’d been told. She would explain to them, with all the Love and Tolerance she could, and hope they would understand. If not, if they moved to harm her ponies, those who were always or even those who had chosen to become so, she would teach them why she had so many titles.

The door at the other end opened. Her horn shone at the tip for a moment, a time keeping spell telling her they were only a few minutes late. A slight, one designed to engender her hatred perhaps. To distract her? Worse, she saw the ones coming on. She had expected a civilian dressed in a fine suit, instead it was military, the United States she believed. A colonel by rank, if she was reading his uniform the right way.

Insults on insults then. They thought her petty enough to be distracted, perhaps? She was not, and even tried to put on her best smile as the man came down the hall, staring into her face. She dipped her head slightly, and for a moment, she wondered if Coal Blade would try to stand on his hind legs to look his former fellows in the eye. He did not, however, merely standing by, gripping his spear more tightly with his hoof.

“Princess. My name is Colonel Danford, I’ve been empowered by the United Nations to speak on behalf of humanity. May we adjourn to the conference room, and begin these proceedings,” he said, not a bow of the head to be found. He also didn’t wait for her to say anything, instead moving towards the side of the hall, where a double door was opened to a dimly lit conference room.

Outside, she felt, through her magic, the presence of other humans. Not many, a few, from the helicopter that had brought the Colonel and his two guards to this location, this small building, built solely for this meeting. Oddly, they left something outside, a small box. Perhaps a radio for them to summon the vehicle again? Though it was strange that it was leaving at all, was it not?

Putting these thoughts out of her head, the Princess moved into the room, a large, as these things went, table in the center. Round, with maps on both walls. One was of Equus, her homeworld, the one from which Equestria had been ripped. That was the wall facing towards her homeland. The other, facing away, held a map of Earth, an older one, as it did not show Equestria on it at all.

She took her seat on the Equestrian side of the table, and watched as the Colonel and his men took seats on the other side. They looked…resigned. Not nervous as one might expect in this last ditch effort to forge a peace between their peoples before pressures, social or otherwise, forced a conflict between them. Had they given up already on that? It was strange that they would send someone of such rank to this if it was to succeed.

“Very well then, I suppose I should start us off. We have only one piece of business. The Governments of the United Nations, as well as several outside its purview, have drafted this notice. Read it in full, please,” he said, and pulled out a small stack of papers from his pocket, unfolding them, and then slapping them, soundly, onto the table. They were crinkled and looked more like it had been scribbled quickly, rather than thought out over the course of hours.

Celestia, using her magic actively for the first time since she’d gotten there, had her horn glow, and with a sweep of her head, brought the document across the table to her. The glow was bright, for such a simple action, and the two beside her jittered a little, Coal holding his spear closer to him, and the unicorn looking like she was ready to fire off an attack spell at a moment’s notice. The two soldiers around the Colonel were holding their own weapons in what she knew to be a ready position as well, not pointed at her, but ready to be so in a heartbeat.

She let her gaze drift down to the document before her, and Celestia felt her heart sink as the world came from the page. She was no ‘expert’ in human language, but she was a fair hoof at them at this point. The words were coarse and rough, like they’d been ripped out of a mouth and slammed down onto the pages, pages that were a universal declaration of war against her people for their ‘crimes’.

She took her time, reading through the list of them, making note of each one. The deaths from the tidal shift when Equestria appeared. The deaths from cults formed in the wake of such. The ‘deaths’ of those who had already undergone conversion. They were even being blamed for, of all things, the deaths of a group of party goers that were killed by a madman who’d shot it for the decorations. She remembered that incident, and mourned the loss of so many innocents for such insanity.

When she was done, flipping to the final page of the stack, she found signatures, the reason for it being handwritten she assumed. She recognized the names on the list, including representatives from almost every country on Earth. Either they had met together, or given the documents’ condition, it had found itself shipped all over this world in a few hours, showing just how dedicated to this they all were.

Princess Celestia, Monarch of Equestria, was not one for panic or distress. She had faced the Horde of Dark Claw, Lord of the Wolf Tribes, the Great Disaster that had come from the Dragon’s Conclave, that had threatened to burn the world to ash, the Sky Palace of Emperor Gates, Greatest of the Gryphonian Empire’s rulers. She had even faced the S’M’Ooze, which had tried to swallow their world in its horrid body, deafening them with its myriad voices.

This declaration did have an effect on her, however, as she took in a deep breath, and sighed it out, before looking up to the Colonel. His face was hard, and she knew why, as she stared into his face. This was to be his final act, and the moment she was facing him, the moment the message was received, his companions moved, their weapons going up, and then bursting out with fire.

That instant, Coal Blade and the unicorn moved as their training dictated. The mare threw a shield up, and shoved it forward, the bullets from the rifle not even denting it, instead making it ripple, as the round plate of magic sailed forward, and then smashed into the man, his gun exploding when the barrel became blocked, even as he himself was shoved into the wall, a horrid crack echoing from the impact as the shield held him tightly against it.

Coal’s spear moved with a flourish, the bullets, all that power in a weapon, blocked with a swirl, all of them, as he used his reflexes to keep up with the attack, approaching the man who had to eventually change clips, the operation taking only a fraction of a second. But that was enough. The spear, not even dented by the impacts, was still spinning, and its haft slammed into the other man.

His helmet kept him from being killed or knocked out, but his weapon was knocked from his hands, and before he could pick it up, that same spear was driven through the middle of it, the soldier reacting by pulling a knife and a pistol. Neither of which he got to use. Coal was just faster, and stronger, as his weapon smashed, broadside against the hands of the human, the crack of finger bones audible.

It was seven heartbeats, and suddenly, the Colonel was the only one on his feet, staring at the two beside him, grinding his teeth hard enough for one to audibly crack. He had no weapon directly, but staring at her, he nodded, and pulled a small rod, a controller with a single button on the top, from a pocket on his uniform. He pressed it, bracing himself for what was to come, willing to give his life if it slowed this supposed goddess down by even an instant.

The look on his face as he slowly opened his eyes staring at the button was comical enough that Celestia had to fight down a laugh. Her two guards were not so inclined, and Coal actually barked something out, as the Colonel tapped the button again and again, before his spear knocked the controller from the Colonel’s still confused hand, and the unicorn literally picked him up, her shield holding his subordinate not even wavering as she placed him back into his seat, and allowed Celestia to rise from her chair, a subtle glow from her horn fading, from the spell she’d cast to disable the weapon.

“Colonel, by the rules of war, rules your people had my nation sign only six months ago, declarations of war need to be understood by both parties. Attacking within seconds of laying down such a declaration is considered a war crime, by your people, are they not?” she asked, and the Colonel said nothing in response. She nodded to the unicorn, who smirked a bit more viciously than she would have liked as she applied a bit of magic to the spell.

This mare, one of Celestia’s personal guards, was trained in ‘Dark’ magic, spells Celestia herself had considered making illegal, but simply allowed to fall from the memory of her ponies. Still, she kept a few, and even allowed her personal guard to know them from her. This one not only caused pain, but forced a person to speak what was on their mind, the perfect interrogation and instruction spell.

“We had to kill you! You’re so powerful! You boiled an ocean!” he declared, straining against the pain, trying to keep himself from speaking. Fear however, showed in his eyes, fear of the images of her flying above the sea during the incident with the ‘kaiju’. She had hoped being open and honest, as well as coordinating with them during the affair would have helped them see she had no ill intentions. Before that thought finished the man tried to bite off his tongue, but she literally yanked on his jaw with her own magic, pulling it apart.

“Try that again, and I will remove your teeth,” she said, coldly, and walked around, to stand over him. For an instant, his fear evaporated, as a stronger emotion overcame him, allowing him to act like he wasn’t terrified at all. In fact, he tried to spit at her, but the spell holding him only made it dribble down his front, making him look as childish as he was.

“Very becoming of a soldier,” she mocked, using her magic to pull a handkerchief from his pocket and clean him, like a mother to a child. She then stood over him, as she stared into his face.

“You brought an explosive, one you would never use on your own people, to the borders of my Kingdom, to use against me because you were afraid of me. Is this all you’ve done?” she asked, teleporting the device onto the table between them. He smirked in response to her question, obviously about to say something, only for the spell to shock him, this time visible arcs of lightning playing over his body in a variety of colors, each one causing its own kind of pain, but causing no lasting harm to him at all.

“Ships, I don’t know how many. All of them, from what I remember. Everything that could float and had a gun on it. Your field, it screws with missiles, so they’re using old fashioned shells instead,” he said through clenched teeth, obviously trying to fight his own traitorous mouth. He was still trying to smile though, as if he were mocking her.

“And when will they fire?” she asked, and this time no spell was necessary.

“They were supposed to the moment I hit the nuke button. If not, in about five minutes. Then this dome of light thing your people generate will go away, and we can clean up after your mess,” he declared, and the unicorn looked at him, at that smile, and then started laughing. The alicorn only grinned at him, but Coal Blade seemed confused, looking from his monarch, to his sister in hooves, and to the human.

“Princess, I don’t think he’s kidding. That could be thousands of warships if he’s right. More than we have airships by a good three orders of magnitude,” he said, concern in his voice, but Celestia, her smile growing warm as she walked away from the Colonel, and stood before him, gently placing her hoof beneath his chin, so he was looking up at her.

“My little pony, you have no reason to fear. Their arms, strong as they are, will find no easy targets within Equestria,” she told him, and the Colonel barked a laugh.

“What? You think your ‘magic’ can save you? We saw your warships, Princess. Even if all of them were defending your borders, you’ve got no chance against human tech. Lasers and flight doesn’t change the fact that your ships are made of wood, and ours are steel,” he declared, and Celestia, still smiling, turned to him, the corners of her mouth growing sharp as she did.

“You foolish man. Is that what your leaders think? That those ships we fly are warships? I had thought your people smarter than that,” she said, and then placed a hoof on her peytral, the gem on her chest glowing, as it connected to others like it.

“Princess, this is Captain Spitfire. We were right. We’ve got a lot of them in the water. Do you want us to sink them?” asked a voice, female, gruff, sounding like the stereotypical soldier.

“No, Captain. Allow them to make the first move. We don’t want to be accused of being the aggressors here. We will allow the humans to start this war. Then, we will finish it,” she said the last in a dark tone, as she motioned with her hoof, and the unicorn, nodding, suddenly picked all three humans up, and dragged them, roughly, into their chairs, even picking up and slamming the Colonel down for good measure, before Celestia and Coal resumed their own seats.

An instant later, Celestia turned the jewel on her peytral, just a small twist, but instantly an image blossomed on the table between the two groups, one that looked almost real, as it slowly began to grow, spiraling outwards until it showed all of Equestria, with all the cities and the like in glorious detail. Then it kept going, and oceans were added, until finally, one could see the ships in the water, as stated, a fleet thousands strong, encircling the continent as best they could.

To be fair, it was a serious fleet. The Colonel had not been lying, it seemed like every ship with guns that could float was ready to make war on her continent. It was a major operation, and the fact that she had assumed it to be a threat only, not something they intended to use, showed Celestia’s faith in humanity was misplaced. She and her people watched as those ships began to turn in a full circle, each one’s guns turning as it faced the land of Ponies with its broadside.

Then with silent thunder, they fired. The image showed the shells, steel and iron things the size of trees, flying fast and true. They would strike the land down. She could imagine her ponies, confused, looking to the sky, and wondering if there was a storm scheduled for today that they hadn’t heard of. She could even picture children at play in parks, their parents ushering them into home to wait out the coming rain.

The image was terrible in her mind, but it would not come to pass. Had she been there, she would have erected a dome over the whole of her Kingdom, a strain, to be sure, but one she would gladly take unto herself. Then Luna or Twilight would act. They would tear the humans apart for this affront, and these people would learn they faced not one goddess, but a triumvirate of them.

She, her sister, or her apprentice, were not needed, however. This moment had been anticipated by her Captains. They had told her humanity wasn’t like ponies. They were more in the vein of griffons or dogs. They would need to be brought to heel. She had hoped they were wrong, but she had allowed them to make their preparations regardless, and as the Colonel watched, his eyes alight with anticipation for the first strike, the view flashed in blinding light.

It was odd to watch in image, magically generated, as a ring of grey, bordering on black, slowly formed from the odd clouds in the sky around her nation. When it was contiguous, when the ring was complete, those clouds issued forth bolts of lightning, precise and powerful, onto the incoming fire. Each shell, each attack, found itself struck with enough force that, if it did not simply explode in the air, it was driven into the sea, landing with a series of splashes, a kilometer or more from the coast.

“I say again, Colonel. My people have airships merely for the novelty of such things, and the transport of goods or persons that overland routes would not allow. When we go to war, it is the pegasi who are the front lines, and they ride HURRICANES into battle. Begin operation Stormwall,” she ordered, and her peytral blinks twice, acknowledging the command, the shimmering light on it fading for a moment, the image going dark as those holding the gems helping to gather the information to project it focused on other tasks.

When the image returned, when it resolved, the storms that had formed a ring around her Kingdom were pitch black, and the seas were in chaos. Discord would have laughed about it, watching as the waters rose into the sky, a few spouts at first, but forming into a solid wall before long, one that slowly began to move outwards, as the ring of clouds expanded, moving towards the fleet of ships.

“And now, let it be known, that humanity has issued its declaration of war against my ponies. And We answer in kind,” she said, a harsh whisper, as the ships saw the approaching storm, and began to act. Some, brave or foolish, souls fired into it, hoping perhaps that it was some trick, or maybe that their power could pierce the wall and work its way back to the shores of Equestria.

Those hopes were dashed, as the ships that did fire were themselves struck, not by one bolt, but dozens. It was interesting to watch, as shells had barely left the barrel detonated, the hulls scorching as the explosions, far too close to them, left their mark. And then the lightning came, the first few bolts ‘eaten’ by a mast or rod, only for them to explode into yet more shrapnel, and the body of the ship to take the rest.

Human made vessels, as it happened, were made well. Some of these, older than a single person manning them, took half a dozen bolts to the hull, the sea around them boiling as the metal grew red hot. Then, like a shaken can, they burst, flames and bodies spilling out as the bulkheads buckled outward, as the weapons that had lain inside were used against the ship rather than for it.

The sight of this, the horror of it, as the wall continued to advance, was enough to break some of those in the fleet. Ships, small and large alike, were already turning, trying to pull away from the attack, to perhaps regroup and try again when it had passed. The wall wavered wherever they were doing so, and the waver translated into the sea, stirring it well ahead of the wall’s touch.

Those ships that were only partially turned were soon battered by waves that started them tossing and turning in the surf. Soon swells as large as the deck would smash into the metal hulls, and you could actually see them begin listing for a moment, before the first, a small cruiser, went all the way on the side, bodies being tossed into the churning sea, as the rotors were pulled into the open sky.

And still the wall came on. One ship, it seemed, would face it head on, however. A battleship, a thousand feet of steel and power, charged the stormwall. Perhaps it believed itself able to pierce it, and her ponies allowed it to come on, even allowed it to fire a time or two, detonating the explosives just as they reached the upwards waterfall, seeming to taunt the human vessel as it drew closer with glimpses behind the sea spray, before those holes closed again.

The bow of the great ship slammed into the wall of liquids, and they sprayed out for a moment, parting the curtain, and giving them, if only for a moment, a ray of hope. She could see it in the faces of the three humans opposite her, thinking in that instant that they would win, that if even one ship were to pierce that veil, then it would all have been worth it, as they would be defenseless against its cannons.

She almost smirked at such foolishness. To think that they might succeed where dragons that could crack mountains with the beat of their wings had failed? It was the height of stupidity, and she took a kind of dark pleasure, the sort that she would never allow to the surface of her mind, but was there in her deepest thoughts, as the break in the sea curtain began to close, and the front of the ship began to rise.

The image was silent, but one could almost imagine the noise, as the ship started to move with the water, the bow lifting from the sea, as the hull took on the pressure of that great mass. To its credit, that ship stood tall and proud for an instant, the weight of it so great that you could see it already bending inwards. But it did not break right away under that assault, and that spoke of the craftsponyship and care put into it.

And then it was rent in twain. The hull buckled at the center of it, bending no more, it tore, and the innards of the great ship spilled out into the sea for a moment, before those were tossed within the coming stormwall. Like the grindstone of a great mill, it wore at the debris and refuse in the water, soon reducing it to clumps that mixed and churned in the sea, a few red spots vanishing quickly showing the cost in lives at the vessel’s loss.

Still came the Stormwall, and now, unable to flee, and with no way to resist, the ships in the fleet began to fire rapidly. The pegasi no longer fired back. They did not need to, the battleship’s fate was not unique, as every blast and shell would find itself smashed upon that barrier, and she saw flickers, likely smaller arms from the deck, desperate men and women trying to hold off the end of the world.

She felt the struggles in the room, she could hear the cries, the two men held in their seats beside the colonel, begging through their jaws forced shut by magic, trying to throw themselves, their people, on her mercy. Had they attacked her alone, with all this firepower, she might have shown them such. She would have knocked all their weapons from the sky, and done nothing else. Taken no lives.

But they did not attack her alone. They had struck at her ponies, bringing them into the fight. And should she show mercy to those like them? Had not everyone in this room, every sailor on those warships, come here expecting that this might not return home to their kith and kin, instead being lost to the sea? She knew they had, these ones most of all had expected their lives to be forfeit.

What they had not expected was that they would lose. They had been prepared to fight, prepared to die, for that was the way of soldiers and warriors. But always, they thought, victory was assured, that those above them had planned well, and would spend their lives with the eye to gain for their cause. Now they knew it was a waste, that they would die for naught, and would be forgotten at best, held up as monsters at worst.

The colonel, through all this, Danford, was sitting in his seat, and doing nothing. He said nothing for some time, as she still held his mouth in the grip of her own magic, but his eyes were steely and cold. Was he unmoved by this? Thinking it some trick? Or was he simply that well trained? Then she saw it, the flicker in his stance, the slight tilt of his head. The coward had done something, taken some poison, from the tooth he’d cracked before pushing the button for the weapon, and barely understood what was happening before him as it was now eating away at his mind.

Truely, she would have stoned him then. To have brought men, braver than he, to their deaths when he could not face such? It was not just the act of a coward, but of a hypocrite. She would seal his soul in rock, petrified and standing in her garden with a dozen others of his ilk for all time, unable to move or act, only able to see the scorn heaped upon him by those passing, for the rest of eternity.

She did not do this, however. She flicked her horn, and with a single thought, she undid the poison. She pulled it, roughly, from his veins, the black ichor tearing itself out of him in a dozen places, his wounds seeping blood for an instant before she closed them, and then burned away the filthy toxin. When she looked at him again, dazed and confused, she used another spell to jolt him into consciousness, causing him to start crying as he struggled and squirmed in her grip.

The view, in those few heartbeats had changed. The ships, not willing to turn their backs, had still tried to angle away from the coming storm, and a few had run afoul of the courses of their brothers and sisters. Slamming into each other, slowing each other down, as the wall grew closer and closer still with each passing moment, none able to so much as slow it by an inch, as doom came for them all.

“You know, I once explained how the water cycle of Equestria worked to one of your scientists,” she suddenly said, drawing the eyes of the other five in the room to her, all but one grateful to not look upon the horror for at least a moment.

“I told her that, given my little ponies did the weather manually, since the Reign of Chaos, that in the beginning of spring or fall, a village was selected, and all throughout the season, the water from its region would be collected in a lake dug out by earthponies. Enough to hold the equivalent of a dozen and more olympic swimming pools worth of water,” she said this idly, as if educating a foal on something, and to be fair, it gave a measure her own ponies would have been confused by…though the practice was common enough that they would know without being told how much water that was.

“At the end of the season, the pegasi would gather and millions of liters of water would be lifted into the sky almost two and a half kilometers. And when she asked how many of my ponies would be needed for such a feat, if it was the undertaking of their entire population, trained from birth for such a thing, I had to chuckle at such a thing,” she continued, watching the boats begin to sway and rock, as the wall grew yet closer, and now was on the verge of consuming them.

“It would be only a few civilians, fifty to a hundred at most, all of them training for a week or so beforehoof, and it failed only rarely. Ten trained Wonderbolts could do the same. This wall is over a thousand such ponies, who have trained their whole lives to join the foremost fliers in Equestria, working in concert,” she explained, and as if on cue, the first ship was taken by the wall.

The battleship, heavy and driving into the storm, had caused the curtain to part for a moment, its weight and power enough to make the storm do that much. This ship, a small destroyer, did not do such. Instead it began to list to the side, and then fell into the sea with a silent crash. And still the wall came on, the vessel lifting from the sea, and beginning to spin roughly, sickeningly, scattering loose bits of itself and its crew into the waves.

It was soon joined by others. Entire groups of ships would be spinning, crashing again and again into that wall and the choppy waters. It was a horrific sight, and soon, not one vessel was recognizable as a ship of the sea, instead being rocks tumbling about, metal bits that were ground down shrinking with each pass, slowly wearing out until finally, with a suddenness that shocked anyone watching, the stormwall broke apart, and began to move in clumps.

She knew what they were doing. Vessels without guns, carriers and such just beyond the horizon, were out there, waiting to send flying things to finish the job the guns would begin. Her Captains were under orders, humanity was not to have a single vessel on the ocean within distance of her ponies. She could see it in her mind’s eye as the captains of those ships would hear conflicting messages from the fleet. Some might even launch their fighters to try and assist the fleet in some way.

Each in turn would be destroyed. None would be spared, as they had chosen to attack not only the military of her nation, but its people in their entirety. She could do no less, and she soon banished the image on the table leaving all save herself blind for that instant. But her eyes shone in the darkness, glowing with embers cruel and smoldering, as she stood tall before the humans in front of her.

“You have brought war to Equestria. We now gift you the same,” she said simply, and then began to leave, the three humans being forced to follow, as the unicorn held them in her magic, the former human, now earthpony following behind, his spear pointed at them, as if they might break her grip on them. To be fair, less defeated people might have, with concerts of effort, done so. But they were broken men, as they were escorted from the small building, and back into the day outside.