Converting a World

That night, she would speak, through every radio, television, and even most computers, thanks to something Twilight had designed. She would show the images of what had been done, the attack thwarted, and the counterstroke so completely obliterating the forces of the world of humanity, that they had nothing left. The views of the storm were the most powerful, but seeing their proud pilots knocked from the sky by small flying horses seemed to affect some most of all.

She had to admit, the images of her ponies dodging and weaving amidst their weapons of war, the nosecones lighting up, and lances, missiles, firing at them. But her ponies had trained all their lives for such combat, though not these specific foes. They danced around their enemies, and when they were in position, they let loose storms. Winds, fire, and lightning played off metal hulls, and they bloomed like terrible flowers of smoke and death in the sky.

And while none of them were fatally wounded, thanks to their planning, and the sheer contempt their foes had held them in until the moment they lost, it was still an effort and more to see this work done. Physical wounds would heal, in the coming days and weeks. A month and some change, and they might again have a Stormwall at their beck and call, perhaps to use in an offensive operation this time, or perhaps simply to defend her shores.

The psychological damage? Her ponies had been raised in an era of peace and prosperity. They had suffered in the accident that brought them to Earth, but had bounced back just as strong. Still, many amongst the Wonderbolts had never seen battle before, and never seen their enemy so…weak and pathetic. A spar with a griffon sure, perhaps even a battle with a dragon. But to watch one’s foes die by the thousands at your own hoofs was not the sort of thing that would go without a mark on their souls.

To the peoples of Earth she allowed none of this to be known. Instead she showed the declaration of war against her ponies via their means to send it to every nation on Earth, scoffing at the list of ‘crimes’, and declaring that, as of this moment, they were indeed at war. She would give them a single week, and then she would visit the United Nations, to accept their unconditional surrender. That done, she waited, and it took, surprisingly, almost a half an hour to get a response from one of the nations not yet part of that group.

She was curious, as she read over the reply, the language translated as best it could be to her own, though many of the more…colorful phrases had no direct equivalent in the tongue she knew. Still, it was what she needed, and she spoke with Luna about what should be done. Her sister, ever the one for conquest, a trait she herself had once shared, though had grown weary of in a thousand years, leapt at the chance to show her power.

That night, as the moon rose, the country’s neighbors spoke of a massive flash of light, one that continued on for so long as the great white pearl in the sky beamed down at them, and it scared those who might otherwise have gone to see what was going on, as none heard a single noise. Not the roar of fire or silver tone of magic. Instead, the light was cold and silent, as the moon plied its course through the heavens.

When the sun finally rose to banish the horrible night, it took hours for some soul to work up the bravery to make it to the border, and what they found was a horror that would not have ever imagined possible. Shorn smooth edges now hung before a pit, the road, ground, and even trees and rocks were cloven clean into bits, the pieces missing falling squarely in the borders of the country that had declared it would never surrender.

The edges were, by the time the observer arrived, already beginning to collapse, and the space, a hole just a bit ahead of ten meters deep, almost to the bedrock in this area, was slowly beginning to fill, as the nearby seas found themselves with space to move into, and the sight of it, of the waves washing into this place, this once home to millions, that had been simply erased in a single night, would linger in the nightmares of so many for generations to come.

No other voice was raised in dissent, no other nation was suicidal enough to believe that they might survive…whatever had come to this world, and so the leaders of the world either huddled in their homes, or fled as best they could, running before the ponies, or worse yet, their own people, could demand something of them. Luna, seeing them scramble, laughed, and offered to make an example or two of those who fled, but Celestia held her back. They would have their debts paid, when it was done.

So she waited, one week passed. Days slowly drifted, one to the next, without the need of her to make it so. It would have been relaxing, honestly. When she had first begun to recover from being ripped from her home to this place, it had been like a vacation of sorts. Now, she dreaded it, and as the final day came upon them, she approached her nephew, Blueblood, and he escorted her with guards into an airship, and set sail for the place where this would end.

The journey was boring, honestly. She, and Blueblood, had expected the humans to make a play, to bring forth their weapons again, to possibly try and attack her home while she was away. But Luna remained, and Twilight, at her side, kept tabs on their communications. They monitored their flight, marking their exact location, but they did little more than watch as they made their way to the U.N. Building, and settled outside.

Blueblood, in his role as ambassador, led the way, waving to the cameras, flashing a smile, trying to appear ever the approachable stallion. The click of cameras, the flash of lights seemed to excite him. But when they looked on Celestia, they would see Marble Made Flesh from her. Stern expression, and mane that moved only when she turned her head, and her gaze enough to make them cower in fear.

Luna was still recovering. Her act was not one of ease, after all, and despite the week’s passing, she was still in Canterlot Castle, ready to defend their border, should it be necessary, but if nothing threatened, she would merely rest. It fell to her older sister to take this message where it needed to go, and to stand tall and proud before the human race, and declare their victory.

Twilight, beside her, was less sure of herself, trying to maintain the same stoic gaze, and Celestia truly regretted the need of this. In another life, she would have eased her into the duties of a ruler, giving her more and more responsibility only as she proved steady enough to balance it. She had, at one point, even brought up the idea with Luna of giving her the throne entirely, should she prove able to shoulder it all.

But this was not a world that would allow that. This was not a place with enemies broken, and friendships forged. This human world required that Celestia be hard, and Twilight Sparkle, her apprentice, would need to be much the same. Still, she walked with power, and soon, the sound of their hooves on tile marked their entrance into the building, and they strode towards the dais, and history.