Watchmare

The underground room was dimly lit, with torches fixed to the rough stone walls flickering weakly, casting swaying shadows over the large wooden table at the center of the space. Maps of Equestria were spread out over its surface, marked with annotations, movement lines, and circles that indicated past operations. The air reeked of old parchment and melted wax, while a heavy silence hung in the air.

Vanguard Sword adjusted his golden helmet as he examined the latest notes on the activities of the UHC. He was an imposing unicorn, with a gray coat and ice-blue eyes as sharp as blades. Beside him, Shadow Veil remained motionless, his gaze analytical and calculating. Cranny Skull wore an impassive expression, though a spark of frustration flickered in his eyes.

Vanguard broke the silence, his deep voice echoing through the enclosed space.

"The UHC is disappearing. The militias have vanished from the streets. The territories that were taken are being abandoned without resistance. Something is very wrong."

Shadow Veil crossed his paws, studying the maps with a piercing look. "The pattern doesn't make sense. After months of expanding their influence, they simply decide to retreat? That's not weakness—it's strategy. But which strategy?"

Cranny Skull let out a long sigh, drumming his hooves on the table. "Since we captured Gleaming Quill, the flow of information has been cut off. But even before that, he burned important documents, ensuring we couldn’t trace anything concrete. Whether he knew about this retreat or not is another story. But his resistance was impeccable. We don't know what he hid."

Vanguard narrowed his eyes, frowning. "If the decision to retreat had already been made before capturing Gleaming, it means he was left behind as well—a distraction to keep us focused while they reorganize."

Shadow Veil nodded slightly. "There’s no doubt. The UHC has always been aggressive, almost impatient, but this... this calm doesn't suit them. It seems they're deliberately becoming invisible."

Cranny Skull tilted his head, thoughtful. "If it's a game of shadows, then we've got a bigger problem. When they attacked directly, we could predict their moves and intercept them. But now... now they've become the very people."

Vanguard placed his hooves on the table, locking eyes with his allies. "We need to find a new method. We can no longer act as if this were a conventional war. The UHC is infiltrating politics, unions, and the everyday workers. We must discover where they're building their strength. We need informants, defections—anything that gives us an advantage."

Shadow Veil looked at the map of Vanhoover, where the territories once controlled by the UHC now lay empty. "The reconstruction of these areas will be slow. We can seize this moment of transition to plant our own agents. If the UHC really wants to blend in with the people, then the people will become our eyes."

Cranny Skull let out a humorless chuckle. "That is, if it's not too late. If they've already infiltrated deeply, perhaps it will be impossible to completely eradicate them. Perhaps that's exactly what they want—not a military victory, but an ideological one."

Vanguard closed his eyes for a moment, pondering. "Then we must change our approach. They cannot continue to lurk in the shadows. Counterinsurgency must evolve. If we want to stop this silent revolution, we need to cut off its roots before they grow too deep."

Shadow Veil looked at Vanguard, the faint light of the torches reflecting in his keen eyes. "What if it's already too late? What if the seed has already been planted?"

Vanguard gave a cold smile. "Then we'll uproot the tree before it blossoms. Come what may."

Silence fell over the room once more as the three strategists contemplated their next moves. Outside, the war seemed to have calmed. But within that underground chamber, everyone knew the truth: the fight was only just beginning.

*** *** ***

Starlight Glimmer’s living room was shrouded in a disquieting gloom, illuminated only by the bluish light of computer screens and the soft glow of magical lamps scattered in the corners. Seated before her computer, Starlight kept her gaze fixed on the screen as her hooves tapped rapidly on the keyboard. Next to her, Spit Splinter lounged in an armchair, his relaxed posture contrasting with the keen eyes that absorbed every detail of the unfolding conversation. Dark Cuddle sat on the floor, a headphone clamped to her ear as she jotted down notes in a notepad.

On the screen, Iron Hammer’s face appeared with a tense expression. The meager lighting in the room he occupied indicated that he was in a discreet location, far from the watchful eyes of the Royal Guard. Beside him, Moon Bite adjusted the camera’s angle, his slit pupils reflecting the faint glow of the screen. The house in Batopolis where he was staying looked simple yet organized, and the documents scattered about revealed that he had been preparing for this very moment.

"The situation in Vanhoover is worse than we expected," said Iron Hammer, his deep voice reverberating through the speakers. "The operations of UHC have almost completely dissolved there, and the few remaining sympathizers are in hiding. If we attempt any direct action now, it will be a massacre."

Starlight nodded, crossing her front hooves over the table. "We can’t afford to lose Vanhoover for good. But we also can’t force a revolution where the soil isn’t fertile. We need something subtler. Something that will make them come to us."

Moon Bite stroked his chin thoughtfully. "We have to make the Two Sisters yield. They’re keeping that absolutist structure intact even under mounting pressure. If we want a government that truly represents the people, we must push them to the negotiating table."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" questioned Dark Cuddle, raising an eyebrow. "Strikes? Protests? That won’t suffice. We’ve tried before and only ended up with more repression."

Iron Hammer offered a tight smile, devoid of humor. "That’s exactly why we need a Parliament. If we can force Celestia and Luna to accept a Parliament, we’ll have a legitimate arena to push our policies. And if we play our cards right, we’ll control the majority of the seats."

Spit Splinter clicked his tongue impatiently. "But how do we pressure the Sisters into doing that? They’re already aware of our moves and have tightened security in the major cities. They’ll only agree to changes if they’re compelled to."

Moon Bite leaned forward, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. "We need a crisis—something that makes the continuation of this monarchical regime unsustainable. Strikes, economic sabotage, institutional infiltration. If we manage to instigate enough chaos, the people themselves will demand a Parliament."

Starlight pounded her hoof on the table. "And that’s where Iron Shield and Storm Banner come in. They’re already organizing the deserters. If we can spread a climate of discontent within the Royal Guard itself and among the Wonderbolts, we’ll create cracks in the power structure. The more divisions there are, the more vulnerable the Sisters become."

Dark Cuddle smirked maliciously. "And then? How are our friends in the shadows?"

Iron Hammer adjusted himself in his chair. "Iron Shield has already gathered about two hundred deserters from the Royal Guard and is training them in the Egalitarian Army. They’re experienced, well-trained, and have contacts within the ranks still loyal to the Sisters. When the time is right, they can sabotage strategic outposts."

Moon Bite nodded. "Storm Banner is doing the same with the deserter Wonderbolts. The Wings of Unity already number about fifty highly qualified pegasi. Not only do they know the Royal Guard’s patrol patterns, but they can also infiltrate protected areas without being noticed. If we need high-impact operations, they’re the ones to call upon."

Starlight smiled. "That’s excellent. But we must ensure that the people view this crisis as the result of the Sisters’ incompetence—and not as something we orchestrated. For that, we need an action plan."

Spit Splinter crossed his hooves. "We can start by spreading the idea that a Parliament is the only viable solution to restore stability. The unions are already receptive to this notion, especially in cities like Manehattan and Fillydelphia. If we can convince the working class that it’s their only escape, the pressure will be inevitable."

Dark Cuddle nodded. "And by infiltrating the unions, we can coordinate speeches, strikes, and protests. The workers can’t be the only ones mobilizing. We need academics, merchants, farmers… a diverse coalition. That will make it seem like a popular demand rather than just one of our political maneuvers."

Moon Bite reclined in his chair, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "And what if we force the Royal Guard to intervene with excessive force? If we manage a brutal repression and broadcast it live online, we’ll create martyrs. Nothing rallies a cause more than spilled blood."

A moment of silence fell. Starlight closed her eyes briefly, deep in thought. "That could be a dangerous path. If we overdo it, we risk losing support. But if we steer it correctly…"

Iron Hammer pounded his hoof on the table. "Then it’s decided. We reinforce our infiltrations, push the unions, and pressure the Guard. And when Celestia and Luna realize they can’t contain this without tarnishing their image, a Parliament will be inevitable."

Starlight opened a calculating smile. "Exactly. We’ll plant the seed. It’s only a matter of time before the tree grows, and they have no choice but to accept it."

On the other side of the screen, Iron Hammer and Moon Bite exchanged a conspiratorial glance. The battle wouldn’t be won with a single blow. But the gears of change were already in motion—it was only a matter of time.

*** *** ***

As the days passed, the efforts of S.M.I.L.E. to locate members of the UHC intensified—even though no results had come to light. In Safewind, the Fortekzian capital, Golden Valley, Celestia, and Luna discussed the endeavors and outcomes of their allies on Equestrian soil. The President looked upon the tortured soldier with pity; that day, he let out a sigh of lamentation, and a letter penned by the soldier would soon reach the home of his family, Winter Boots.

The streets of Vanhoover still bore the scars of the conflict. Buildings with shattered facades, broken windows, and bullet marks on the walls served as a constant reminder of the UHC occupation. Nonetheless, the efforts to reclaim the city were well underway. Workers rebuilt damaged structures, farmers returned to their lands, and volunteers helped restore order.

In the old orchard of the region, Apple Bucker worked tirelessly, checking on the condition of the trees that had been neglected during the occupation. The scent of damp earth mingled with the light perfume of the few pears that still survived the chaos of the past months. He sighed upon noticing signs of vandalism: cut trunks, broken branches, and deep furrows in the soil—possibly the marks left by the wheels of makeshift military wagons.

While removing dry branches and preparing the soil for replanting, his hoof struck something hard. His heart began to race as he dug with renewed determination, moving the earth aside until something pale was revealed beneath the surface. With one final scoop, the face of a dead pony emerged from the shallow grave. The shock coursed through his body like a bolt of lightning.

"Merciful Celestia…" Apple Bucker whispered, staggering backwards.

The cry of horror that escaped his throat echoed through the orchard, and within minutes the rest of the group Harmony and Tradition—Hay Bale, Wheatstalk, and Gold Plow—came running, followed by the Element Bearers who were assisting in the city’s reconstruction.

"What happened?" Wheatstalk asked, breathless, his expression shifting between worry and disbelief.

Apple Bucker pointed to the disturbed earth, his voice faltering. "They… they done shot ponies right here."

Hay Bale’s eyes widened as he slowly approached, his face set by hard-earned resolve. Using his own hooves, he began to dig deeper, and before long more bodies started to emerge. The ponies buried there had been interred in haste, stripped of any dignity. Some still wore their tattered clothes, while others were only partially covered by tarpaulin.

Gold Plow felt a lump form in his throat. "Fer the love o’ Luna… they ain’t even tried hidin’ it."

"It’s not that they didn’t try," Twilight Sparkle’s voice cut through the silence. "They wanted us to find them."

Applejack removed her hat and closed her eyes for a moment, her face reflecting a quiet sadness. "Them no-good varmints… they done did it on purpose."

Rainbow Dash clenched her teeth, her wings fluttering with restrained fury. "This wasn’t just an execution… this was a message."

Fluttershy covered her mouth with a hoof, averting her gaze from the bodies. "This… this is monstrous."

Rarity, who had been keeping a respectful distance until now, stepped forward to examine the remnants of the clothing on some of the bodies. "Ordinary ponies… farmers, merchants… maybe even refugees who tried to escape," she sighed, feeling utterly helpless. "This needs to be documented. Those responsible cannot go unpunished."

Pinkie Pie, who usually maintained a bubbly optimism, now stood motionless, her eyes half-closed and a rare expression of hatred etched on her face. "This cannot be forgotten."

Twilight Sparkle took a deep breath and lifted her head. "We’re going to report this to the authorities in Vanhoover. This proves that the UHC committed crimes. We can’t allow this to go unanswered."

Hay Bale gazed toward the horizon, his teeth clenched in restrained fury. "This ain’t just an execution ground. It’s a reminder o’ what they done an’ what they might do if we get complacent."

Apple Bucker felt the weight of the discovery pressing down on his chest, but he knew there was no turning back now. Nodding at Twilight, he reaffirmed his resolve. "We’re gonna expose this t’ the world."

The revolt in Vanhoover began spreading like wildfire over dry brush. The discovery of the bodies in the orchard was not merely a grim reminder of the UHC occupation—it was the spark that ignited collective outrage. The initial murmurs of those present soon swelled into impassioned shouts, and within minutes dozens of ponies had gathered around the site, their faces marked by horror and fury.

"This is an assault on ponykind!" roared a factory worker, his helmet still caked with soot as he glared at the bodies in disbelief and anger.

"It won’t stand!" shouted another city inhabitant—a grey-coated elder pony clutching a small, hastily made sign that read "Justice for Vanhoover!"

Still in shock, Apple Bucker felt his hooves tremble. He had never witnessed anything like this before. Wheatstalk placed a steady hoof on his shoulder, trying to steady him. "We gotta keep our cool, friend. This needs t’ be handled with justice, not chaos."

But Hay Bale—ever the passionate one—couldn’t contain himself. He clambered onto a nearby wagon and raised his voice above the swelling crowd. "They done treated us like trash! Like disposable parts o" some machine! We ain’t gonna let this brutality be forgotten. They gotta pay for it!"

The shouts of support grew louder. Twilight Sparkle and the other Element Bearers tried to intervene, but they knew that collective outrage could not be silenced immediately. Rarity wrapped her cloak around herself as she surveyed the grim, tattered clothes of the corpses. "If these ponies were killed simply for existing, what else might they do if we let them go unpunished?"

Quietly, Fluttershy closed her eyes and took a deep breath before speaking in her soft, yet determined tone: "We can honor the dead by making sure something like this never happens again."

A younger pony—a tearful teenager—stepped forward and pointed at the scene. "My father… he disappeared weeks ago. He might be here…"

Still usually the embodiment of cheer, Pinkie Pie now fought back tears as she turned to Twilight. "We have to do something. Something real. Not just words. They need to see that this won’t be swept under the rug."

Climbing onto the same wagon as Hay Bale, Twilight Sparkle raised a hoof to quiet the crowd. "We’re all angry, and rightfully so! But that anger must be used to bring about change—not destruction. We’re gonna demand answers from the authorities. We’re gonna gather evidence, organize testimonies, and take this to all of Equestria’s allies. This will not be forgotten!"

The shouts of anger began to morph into rallying cries. "Justice for Vanhoover!" echoed through the alleys and streets. The cold wind carried the sounds of revolt and pain, as ponies of all ages and walks of life gathered—determined to transform this moment of mourning into a call for justice.

Amid the crowd, a group of pegasi took to the skies, spreading the news throughout the city. Posters were hastily painted, listing the names of the missing and demanding answers. In no time, Vanhoover was becoming a cauldron on the verge of boiling over—and everyone knew this was only the beginning.

*** *** ***

September had arrived, and Twilight’s words had not been in vain. After finishing the reconstruction of Vanhoover, the Element Bearers returned to Ponyville, accompanied by Big Macintosh, while the other farmers from Harmony and Tradition headed back to their respective farms. Along the way, they chatted about the entire rebuilding, happy to have helped the coastal town. But the atmosphere of light-heartedness wouldn’t last long.

None of them had checked their cell phones for the latest news; instead, after getting off the subway and heading to the front of City Hall, a crowd of ponies—especially youngsters—had gathered, and the seven approached to see what was going on.

The murmur of the crowd in front of Ponyville City Hall was intense. Young ponies waved placards, others exchanged heated words, while in the center of the throng a pony stood atop a wooden crate, his strong, conviction-filled voice reverberating among those present.

"Comrades!" Clay Hoof bellowed, without any trappings linking him to the UHC. "For too long, we've been hoodwinked by promises of a system that only benefits the same old folks! For too long, we've toiled without ever reaping the fruits of our labor! I tell you: there's an alternative! And that alternative is Socialism!"

Murmurs erupted in the crowd. Some ponies nodded in agreement, while others exchanged wary glances. But no one dared interrupt him. Clay Hoof raised a hoof toward the sky.

"We must no longer submit to the impositions of the upper classes! Every pony must have equal access to the riches of the land! We must organize, demand that our voice be heard, and fight for a future where each one of us gets what we deserve! Change starts here, starts now!"

Applause burst forth among the most enthusiastic of the young, and a chorus began to form: "Justice and equality! Justice and equality!"

Then, suddenly, a distinct voice broke out from the midst of the crowd.

"This is dangerous!" Trixie exclaimed, the silver-maned illusionist, as she walked cautiously toward the center of the square. "What you're preaching ain't justice—it’s pure division!" Her eyes shone with determination as she confronted the speaker. "What you propose won’t bring harmony; it'll only bring chaos!"

All eyes turned to her. The enthusiasm of Clay Hoof’s supporters gave way to a growing murmur of discontent.

"Trixie, the puppet of the system!" a young pony mocked.

"You don't even know what you're talking about!" another shouted.

Maintaining his composure, Clay Hoof gave her a lopsided smile. "Tell me, Trixie, do you benefit from this system? Aren't you just a traveling artist, scraping by on crumbs while the rich bathe in luxury? Don't you long to live in a world where your talents are truly recognized?"

Trixie hesitated for a moment—not because she was swayed by his words, but because she herself had felt the full weight of hardship. Still, she would not yield.

"Merit ought to come from hard work! Every pony must earn their own space! And not demolish everything in the name of forced equality!" she retorted, raising her voice above the clamor.

What followed was a torrent of jeers. The chorus that had once chanted "Justice and equality" now transformed into a roar of disapproval against the blue unicorn.

"Get back to your cheap trick show!" someone shouted.

A bottle flew through the air, spinning wildly. Trixie saw it coming and leaped back at the last moment, dodging it. The bottle smashed against the ground, scattering shards of glass near her hooves.

Her eyes widened in shock as the heat of fury and fanaticism engulfed the square.

Clay Hoof raised a hoof, signaling for the demonstrators to calm down. "Comrades, this ain’t how we show our strength! Let the arguments speak for themselves!" Yet the subtle smile on his face betrayed his certainty that he had already won this round.

Trixie retreated, swallowing the anger that surged within her. She knew there was no use insisting right then—not on that very afternoon. Yet her heart pounded fiercely, and something deep inside warned her that this was far from over.

The square continued to buzz, and Clay Hoof resumed his impassioned speech, fanning the fervor of his followers, while Trixie melted away into the shadows, determined to find another way to confront this new wave of thought spreading across Equestria.

"This is gettin' way too far!" hollered Applejack, stamping her hoof on the ground, furious at the direction things were taking.

"I know," Twilight replied, her eyes never leaving Clay Hoof. "But if we step in now, we’ll only be giving him more ammunition. The people need to see the truth for themselves."

The fervor of the crowd grew, and agitation overtook the square in front of Ponyville City Hall. Shouts of "Justice and equality!" echoed through the streets, reverberating among the buildings and even reaching those merely passing by.

Clay Hoof pressed on with his fiery speech, stoking the indignation of the demonstrators. "See how they tremble! How the elite fear change! They want us to believe that inequality is natural—that we should accept a life of servitude and labor while they wallow in luxury!"

Twilight Sparkle took a deep breath. "If we don’t do something soon, this movement might spread even further. We need to find a way to dissipate this wave before it becomes uncontrollable."

Applejack watched intently, her jaw set. "But how? Y’all seen what happened t’ Trixie. If we go head-on, we’re just gonna come off as the villains in this story."

While the Element Bearers mulled over the situation, the protest only gained momentum. Young ponies drew near—some carrying improvised instruments to set the beat for the protest chants. Others began painting placards with bold slogans: "Ponies for All!" and "Down with the Oppressive System!"

Rarity glanced around and sighed. "This is turning into a trend. If we don’t find a way to expose this fallacy, it’s bound to spiral into something even bigger."

Fluttershy, who had remained silent until then, stepped forward hesitantly. "Maybe... maybe we can show them the real impacts of what they're asking for?" Her voice was soft yet laced with genuine concern. "If they only knew what happens when a system collapses, perhaps they'd think twice."

Twilight raised an eyebrow. "You mean... take this to a public debate? Bring in historical examples, arguments?"

Pinkie Pie bounced over with sparkling eyes. "Or show it in practice! Make ‘em live a day without all the things they don’t even realize they need! Let’s see how long they last without that very structure they’re fixin’ to tear down!"

Meanwhile, in the midst of the crowd, a new figure stood out. Starlight Glimmer had arrived. Unlike Clay Hoof, she said nothing—merely observing with a calculating smile. Her eyes tracked the elated cheers, the boos, and the hesitant looks alike. Her plans were falling perfectly into place.

From her vantage point, Twilight noticed her presence and shivered. "She's here. That means this movement might be even more well-orchestrated than we thought."

Rainbow Dash banged one of her front hooves against the other, eager to jump in. "Just say the word, Twilight. If you need someone to put a little sense into their heads, I’m ready!"

"Not yet," replied Twilight, her mind churning through strategies. "We need to be careful. If Starlight’s involved, there’s something bigger at play. We gotta understand it first before acting."

As the square continued to vibrate with the crowd’s energy, the Element Bearers knew this was only the beginning of a much larger conflict. The fight for Equestria wouldn’t be decided by a single speech or protest—it would be won or lost in the hearts and minds of every pony present.

*** *** ***

The meeting room of Canterlot Palace was thick with tension. The windows were closed, preventing the distant clamor of protests in Ponyville and other cities from reaching the ears of those present. The long, ornate table was covered with documents, reports, and letters of concern sent by mayors and local representatives.

Celestia sat at the head of the table, her expression calm yet clearly worried. Beside her, Luna maintained a rigid posture, her wings slightly unfurled—a sign of her unease. On the other side of the table, Jet Set flipped through a report, frowning. Fancy Pants, as always, kept a keen, diplomatic gaze, while Black Spot observed everyone with a critical eye, waiting for his turn to speak.

"Protests are growing," Jet Set began, adjusting his glasses. "What started as a revolt by workers and trácios has now taken on a much broader scope. There are students, merchants, and even a few minor nobles joining in. They are no longer demanding just economic reforms—they want structural changes."

Luna stamped a hoof on the table. "And while we're here debating, chaos is spreading! I've told you before, Celestia, this wave of rebellion must be crushed before it grows any further. We've allowed dissent to run wild for too long, and now they feel empowered to challenge the Crown."

Celestia sighed, leaning forward. "And you think crushing the people will solve anything, sister? Do you really believe that cornered and repressed ponies will remain loyal to our leadership? I want a happy people, not a terrified one."

"You want a happy people?" Luna retorted. "Then stop letting these agitators destroy the stability of Equestria! What do you think will happen if more cities fall? If they start questioning our own government? Without a strong response, they'll interpret that as weakness."

Fancy Pants cleared his throat before interjecting. "Pardon my boldness, Your Highnesses, but I believe both points are valid. If we take too hard a line, we risk losing the population’s sympathy. But if we're too lenient, the protests might spiral out of control. We need balance."

Black Spot, who had been listening silently until now, finally spoke. "I understand both of your concerns. I’ve seen firsthand what happens when a people feel abandoned. The trácios know this better than anyone. But Luna is right about one thing: letting chaos grow will bring nothing good. If this multitude is left unchecked, they may very well decide they no longer need the diarchy."

Celestia closed her eyes for a moment, pondering. "I understand, Black Spot. But I want to try the path of diplomacy first. We need to understand what they’re really asking for. Sending the Royal Guard to massacre them without even trying to talk would be a grave mistake."

Luna snorted, crossing her front hooves. "And if diplomacy fails? If sweet words aren’t enough?"

Celestia opened her eyes and fixed her gaze on her sister. "Then we will act with force—but only against those who pose a real threat to our security. We cannot treat all the protesters as criminals."

Jet Set cleared his throat. "So, the idea would be to attempt direct negotiations? To invite a representative of these protests to the palace?"

Fancy Pants nodded. "That could work, depending on whom we send on this mission. We need someone who inspires trust."

"And who doesn’t show any weakness," Luna added.

Black Spot mused for a moment. "If I may suggest, we could start by listening to the most influential voices among the protesters. Perhaps we can find a middle ground before the situation deteriorates further."

Celestia nodded, turning to Fancy Pants and Jet Set. "I want a list of potential representatives we can invite for an official dialogue. If there is willingness to converse, we’ll try that route first. But if we are ignored or met with more violence, then Luna will take decisive action."

Luna offered a small smile, satisfied to have finally secured some promise of action. "Excellent. But let it be clear: I won’t hesitate if I need to act."

Celestia looked at the group, her voice firm yet filled with compassion. "If we reach that point, I hope it will be our last option."

Silence fell over the room. Everyone knew that the fate of Equestria hung by a thread, and that any decision made there would define the future of the nation.

*** *** ***

The headquarters of the Fillydelphia Workers’ Union was hosting Iron Hammer, but in his office there was another pony as well. Starlight Glimmer was talking with the union and militia leader; even amid the gloomy atmosphere, laughter was frequent.

"Ah, Hammer, you're quite the character, but then, what's your big idea?" Starlight asked, her tone enthusiastic yet maintaining her composure.

"You’re gonna love it," Hammer replied as he rose from his desk, grabbing the cloth that covered the television and turning it on immediately to display images of the protests. "We’ve got demonstrations underway, and the Two Sisters are trying diplomacy, but…" With a click, he showed a poorly drawn picture of Royal Guards attacking protesters.

Starlight Glimmer furrowed her brow and leaned slightly forward as she watched the screen. The footage of the protests was chaotic, but the crude drawing of the Royal Guards attacking the demonstrators looked disproportionately exaggerated. She blinked a few times before turning to Iron Hammer, raising an eyebrow in skepticism.

"Hammer, you really expect the people to buy that? That art looks like it was done by a colt in a hurry." Her voice carried not disdain, but genuine curiosity about just how far he planned to take this manipulation.

Iron Hammer let out a low laugh, a sly gleam lighting his eyes as he moved closer. "No, Starlight. This is just a rehearsal. The true masterpiece is yet to be painted." He stepped forward and spun his office chair before sitting down slowly. "The Equalitarian Army still has plenty of ponies wearing the old Royal Guard armor. With all this protest confusion, who’s gonna tell the difference between a real guard and one of ours?"

Starlight blinked, processing the information. "You mean... you want our own agents to pass themselves off as Royal Guards and attack the protesters?" She crossed her front hooves and tilted her head. "That’s risky. If they get found out…"

"If they get found out, it’ll be too late." Iron Hammer interrupted in a firm tone, a small smile forming on his face. "Think about it, Starlight. The people are already pissed off. They no longer trust the diarchy. But up till now, Celestia and Luna still have a few sympathizers. We need to eradicate that. If the protesters believe that the Royal Guard is attacking their own people, the remaining loyalty to the Two Sisters will crumble."

Starlight fell silent for a moment, reflecting on the strategy. Her eyes scanned the television screen once more. The idea was brutal, cunning, but extremely effective. Creating martyrs was one of the most powerful weapons in a revolutionary movement. She gave a small smile, nodding slowly.

"And how do you plan to ensure that this works without any suspicions falling on us?" she finally asked, her voice now more controlled.

Iron Hammer retrieved a small map of Fillydelphia and spread it out on the table. "Our infiltrated ponies will start at the busiest points. First, a small group of ‘guards’ will attack a peaceful protest. It won’t be a massive assault—just enough to spark outrage. This will be filmed and spread throughout the city before the real Royal Guard forces can react. Then, we’ll gradually escalate the violence, with the protesters themselves striking back."

He stamped a hoof against the map. "When the crowd is enraged, we'll move into the main commercial and infrastructure streets. Sabotage, fires, destruction—whatever it takes. The more the real Royal Guards try to contain the chaos, the more it will appear that they are indeed attacking the people. Celestia and Luna will be forced to respond, and any reaction from them will only add fuel to the fire."

Starlight smiled, now fully understanding. "If they respond with brute force, they'll look like tyrants. If they hesitate, they'll seem weak." She looked at Iron Hammer with admiration. "It’s a very well thought-out plan. But what will we do when it’s time to dismantle the Equalitarian Army? We can’t leave any traces."

Iron Hammer shrugged. "Once we've achieved what we want, we’ll simply say they were infiltrated radicals, exploiting the instability. The people will look for scapegoats, and we’ll provide them—some scapegoats, maybe even some of our own, to maintain credibility. The important thing is that the Crown never regains its power."

Starlight took a deep breath, feeling excitement build within her. The plan was bold, but it had the potential to redefine the entire political structure of Equestria. "We need to make sure that only our best agents are used for this. Not a single mistake can be made."

Iron Hammer smiled, his eyes sparkling with a mix of cunning and satisfaction. "I've already taken care of everything. Our best infiltrators are ready. The revolution, Starlight, is finally on the right track."

As the cold light of the television flickered in the room, the shadows of two conspirators stretched across the floor. History was about to change, and they were the architects of its new course.

*** *** ***

A loud crash was heard in Luna’s room, and Celestia looked at her with an expression of fury; Luna didn’t understand what was happening, assuming it was something her sister had heard. The tension filled the air in those white walls.

The crash still echoed through Luna’s room, the doors of the chamber trembling with the force with which Celestia had flung them open. The night princess straightened quickly, her eyes widening at the sight of her sister’s furious expression. The moonlight streaming through the window created a dramatic contrast between the two, reflecting the intensity of the moment.

"Luna!" Celestia’s voice was like contained thunder, laden with indignation. "What have you done?"

Luna blinked several times, her heart racing. "What are you talking about?"

Celestia advanced, her hooves echoing heavily on the marble. "The Royal Guard! The demonstrators of Fillydelphia! There was violence, injuries, possibly deaths! The city is on the brink of collapse!" She took a deep breath, trying to contain her anger. "I said we’d try diplomacy first, and now I find out that guards attacked the demonstrators without mercy! Did you order this?"

Luna was left speechless. Her chest heaved rapidly as she absorbed her sister’s words. "Celestia, I would never do something like that! I didn’t send the Guard to attack the people!"

Celestia narrowed her eyes, her magical mane trembling with the energy radiating from her. "Then how do you explain the reports? There are witnesses! There are videos! How can you deny something that’s right before our eyes?"

Luna took a deep breath, regaining some composure. "If the Royal Guard acted that way, then someone commanded them without my order. Celestia, you know me! I’m not foolish enough to make such a grave mistake!"

Celestia hesitated, her expression softening slightly yet still filled with doubt. "Then tell me, who else could have given that order? If it wasn’t you, then who was it?"

Luna lowered her head for a moment, her mind racing. "I don’t know. But we need to find out. If someone manipulated the Guard to attack the demonstrators, that means there are forces at work trying to sabotage our leadership." She lifted her eyes again, now filled with determination. "And we have to stop them."

Celestia took a step back, her breathing trembling slightly. Her initial indignation gave way to deep confusion. "I... I accused you without proof. I believed what I saw, what I was told..." She ran a hoof across her face, her voice heavy with frustration. "Sister, forgive me."

Luna approached and placed a hoof on Celestia’s shoulder. "We don’t have time for regrets. We have to uncover the truth. If someone infiltrated the Guard and is using Fillydelphia to demoralize us, then we’re dealing with a dangerous enemy."

Celestia nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to compose herself. "Let’s call an emergency council. We need to investigate this before the situation gets out of hand."

Luna raised her head, her determination growing. "And when we find out who’s behind this, Celestia... they will pay for what they’ve done to our people."

*** *** ***

After an emergency government meeting, audits became frequent within the ranks of the Royal Guard; members showing signs of rebellion or misalignment were replaced, investigations ensued, yet little did they know who the true aggressors within the "Royal Guard" were.

Factionalism was taking hold of Equestria. Harmony and Tradition was no longer just a group composed of farmers—it was expanding to include academics and other sectors that still believed in the diarchy and Harmony. EQUESOC was gaining popularity with its attacks, but not everyone was swayed by EQUESOC; some opted for a more moderate alternative, others stayed in between—not Socialists, not Harmonists. Equestria was divided.

The palace’s meeting room was filled with worry and instability. The meeting quickly devolved into a cacophony of voices. Fancy Pants, Jet Set, Shadow Veil, Black Spot, and Vanguard Sword exchanged words while Celestia and Luna couldn’t make head or tail of the dialogue.

"Silence, please," Luna interjected, her bearing exuding authority, and silence fell.

"Thank you, sister. We are all aware that this is not a pleasant moment—it’s a grim time—but we need to get organized," Celestia’s voice echoed, laden with tension. "One at a time, please. Shadow Veil, you may begin."

"Your Highness," he began, his voice calm and precise. "After a more in-depth analysis, I can confirm that the attacks by the so-called 'Royal Guard' do not originate from within our official forces."

Murmurs began to rise again, but they ceased when Luna shot a sharp look at those present. Celestia leaned slightly forward, her expression reflecting caution and skepticism. "Are you sure of that, Shadow Veil?"

He nodded. "Yes, Princess. The audits revealed no direct connection between the official members of the Royal Guard and these violent incidents. The orders that resulted in the brutal repression in Fillydelphia never came from our official channels."

Vanguard Sword crossed his hooves, narrowing his eyes. "So we’re dealing with impostors? That means there’s an infiltrated group trying to discredit us?"

"Or someone attempting to push the populace into an inevitable conflict," Fancy Pants added, his voice thick with concern. "If our investigations are correct, the blame for the attacks falls on those seeking to destroy trust in the diarchy and consolidate another form of government."

Jet Set cleared his throat. "If the attacks don’t come from the Royal Guard, then where do they come from?"

Shadow Veil looked directly at Celestia. "We believe that Iron Shield is involved."

A deathly silence fell over the room. Luna frowned, her tone laced with incredulity. "Iron Shield? He did desert the Guard, yes, but there’s no concrete evidence that he’s behind these attacks."

Black Spot interjected, "With all due respect, Your Highness, if it isn’t him, who else could be arming ex-guards with the diarchy’s legitimate equipment and sending them out to attack civilians?"

Celestia sighed, gazing at the map of Equestria spread out on the table. The cities were being divided along ideological lines. Harmony and Tradition was growing, attracting academics and conservative sectors. EQUESOC was fueling popular discontent with its revolutionary promises. But now, a third group was gaining ground: those who didn’t fully align with any side, ponies who craved stability yet didn’t know whom to trust.

"Equestria is fragmenting," Celestia murmured. "With each passing day, our influence diminishes. We cannot afford to lose more allies."

Luna pounded a hoof on the table, her tone firm. "Then it’s time for us to act with greater rigor. If Iron Shield is involved, we need to capture him and dismantle this insurgency before everything spirals out of control."

Celestia, however, raised a wing, asking for calm. "We will not use repression to maintain order."

All eyes in the room turned toward the Princess of the Sun. Fancy Pants was the first to speak. "Your Majesty, without firm measures, I fear we will lose Equestria to chaos."

"If we resort to brute force, we’ll only be confirming the lies that are being spread about us," Celestia replied, her voice imbued with gravity. "The people need to see that we are open to dialogue. If we come off as tyrants, there will be no turning back."

Jet Set leaned forward. "And what is your proposal, then, Your Highness?"

Celestia took a deep breath before answering. "We will create an Advisory Council—a space where representatives from different sectors of society can bring their concerns directly to the government. This will show that we are listening to the people and are committed to peaceful solutions."

Luna hesitated. "And what if they use it as a platform to further weaken our position?"

Celestia met her gaze. "If we don’t give them that chance, the radicals will become the only alternative for those seeking change."

There was a long moment of silence. Finally, Fancy Pants spoke. "If this council can truly ease the tensions, then perhaps it is the only way out we have left."

Vanguard Sword nodded. "We can protect Equestria without resorting to violence. But we need to act fast before the enemies of the diarchy seize this opportunity from us."

Celestia looked around the room, reading the uncertainty and worry on her counselors’ faces. Yet there was also determination. This would be a first step—perhaps the last one before everything was lost.

"Then it is decided," she said. "We will announce the Advisory Council as soon as possible."

Luna did not seem entirely convinced, but she did not object. There was too much at stake. As the meeting ended and the counselors filed out of the room, Celestia gazed out the window toward Canterlot, where sparks of conflict were already beginning to spread through the streets.

She could only hope that her choice was the right one.

*** *** ***

Starlight Glimmer's living room was enveloped in a comfortable twilight, illuminated only by the blue glow of the computer screens. Spit Splinter and Dark Cuddle sat around the wooden table, each with a steaming cup of tea before them. The connection with Iron Hammer and Moon Bite was stabilizing on the screen. The atmosphere was one of intense concentration, with everyone present feeling the weight of the decisions they were about to make.

Starlight leaned back in her chair, her eyes half-closed as she gazed at the image of the green stallion. "Is the situation still unstable?"

Iron Hammer nodded. "The protests continue, but the Princesses have confirmed that the Royal Guard was not sent to use violence—this has only deepened the divisions. Still, the popular revolt has grown. Not enough for them to yield to Parliament."

Moon Bite snorted. "They keep trying to calm things down with that blasted Consultative Council. They want us to believe we have a voice, but we know it's just a distraction. Celestia won't willingly open a Parliament. We need something bigger."

Dark crossed her hooves, nodding. "We need a new crisis. An external threat!"

Starlight smiled sideways. "Actually, I've already thought of that." She rotated the computer screen and her camera so the others could see some images of griffons newly arrived in Equestria. "The flow of migrants from Griffonstone has increased dramatically over the past few months. They’re desperate workers, searching for a better life. But for the equestrian people? They’re foreigners who are taking jobs—protected by the diarchy."

Spit Splinter laughed softly, leaning back in her chair. "So the idea is simple: we make it seem that these griffons are agents of the diarchy, infiltrated to undermine the local workers?"

"Exactly," replied Starlight, tapping her hoof lightly on the table. "If we manage to spread the idea that Celestia is opening Equestria's doors to the griffons while our own citizens are starving, the discontent will turn completely against her."

Spit Splinter placed her tea cup on the table, leaning forward with a malicious smile. "The narrative is already taking shape. Now we need to ensure that the population sees the griffons as the real threat and the diarchy as their accomplice."

Iron Hammer crossed his hooves and nodded. "We can infiltrate our agents among the demonstrators to reinforce this idea. Let’s organize small rallies in strategic cities like Baltimare, Manehattan, and Fillydelphia. Our message must be clear: the griffons are being used by the diarchy to undermine the equestrian worker."

Moon Bite smiled, his eyes gleaming in the bluish light of the computer. "We can use social media to spread false reports. Anonymous testimonies from ponies who supposedly lost their jobs to griffon migrants. News about crimes committed by them—even if fabricated. Public outrage will naturally grow."

Dark Cuddle drummed her hooves on the table, thoughtful. "The question is: how do we channel this outrage to force the diarchy to yield? Celestia is stubborn—she clings to this idea of harmony. If we only create discontent, she'll try to appease the situation."

Starlight smiled, leaning forward. "We need the situation to spiral out of control. Small groups can begin organizing against the griffons, and the Royal Guard will be forced to intervene. If we can make their response seem excessive, it will further divide the population."

Spit Splinter raised an eyebrow. "Isolated incidents? Attacks by ‘outraged workers’ against the griffons?"

Iron Hammer added, "And what if we can make the griffons strike back? Even better, if we can encourage some of them to start first..."

Moon Bite pounded a hoof on the table. "Exactly. Small acts of vandalism attributed to the griffons. A few broken shops, maybe even a fire. That would generate panic and force a response from the diarchy."

Dark Cuddle smiled. "And best of all: any reaction Celestia takes will be wrong. If she represses the population, she loses the people's support. If she protects the griffons, it only fuels even more anti-immigrant sentiment. And if she does nothing, she'll appear weak."

Starlight leaned back in her chair, watching the screens with a calculating gleam in her eyes. "We're creating a perfect trap. The Consultative Council was the method Celestia adopted to avoid opening Parliament. But if the Council itself appears incapable of maintaining order..." She paused dramatically, then smiled ironically. "It would be a shame if the Consultative Council building were vandalized."

Silence filled the room for a moment before being broken by the restrained laughter of those present. The seed of chaos had been planted.

*** *** ***

The veil of night covered the skies of all Equestria, and the tension was felt even in the hours of sleep. Violence and civil disobedience were evident. Clashes between "unemployed ponies" and griffons were frequent, with security forces intervening often. That night, on July 14th, something was bound to happen.

Swift figures crossed the streets, alleys, and lanes of the capital. Shadowy forms moved in the stillness of the night; the activity was scarcely noticeable, with only a few trácios working through the early hours, though not all did.

Night enveloped Canterlot like a black, silent cloak, yet in the dim light, chaos was preparing to unfold. The shadows moved with precision, carving a sure path through the less-patrolled streets of the capital. They were trácios—experts in stealth, their membranous wings barely making a sound as they leaped from rooftop to rooftop or crept between the dark alleys.

From Batopolis, members of the shadow government knew they had to act quickly and without leaving any obvious traces. The order was clear: the Consultative Council must be demoralized, its authority questioned even before it could consolidate any influence.

At the head of the group, Night Stride observed the Consultative Council building with keen eyes. The imposing, still-new structure symbolized the diarchy’s attempt to appease the growing crisis. But that night, it would become a sign of impotence.

He raised a hoof, and the others took their positions in silence. With a swift gesture, the first bottles of black paint were pulled from their pouches. In seconds, the walls of the building were covered with messages of revolt: "Equestria for the Ponies", "Traitor Celestia", "No to the Council". The inscriptions were precise, strategically placed so that the security cameras would capture every one of them.

Another group worked on the ground-floor windows. Small shards were carefully thrown against the glass, creating cracks without excessive noise. One of the trácios, more impulsive, hoisted a crowbar and struck a side window, shattering it with a high-pitched sound that echoed down the deserted street.

Night Stride gritted his teeth. "Quiet. Don’t alert the guards before the time."

However, the impact had already caught the attention of a night watchman patrolling the nearby streets. The pony looked toward the building, trying to make sense of the movement in the shadows. Before he could react, one of the figures emerged from the darkness, a hood concealing its face, and hurled a small sphere to the ground. A burst of smoke spread, obscuring his vision as the trácios vanished into the night.

The vandalism, carefully orchestrated, was not just a display of strength but a psychological blow. When the sun rose, the news would spread. Photographs would be published in the newspapers. The government would appear incapable of protecting its own symbol of authority.

Night Stride, satisfied with the job accomplished, withdrew with his companions into the shadows, leaving behind a trail of paint and shattered glass. "Mission accomplished. Tomorrow, they’ll wake up to a new nightmare."

And so, even before the first rays of sunlight cut across the horizon, the stability of Equestria was further fragmented.

*** *** ***

The next morning, Equestria was in shock. Broken windows, ruthless graffiti, anti-griffon messages, and trash scattered throughout the halls and corridors. The Consultative Council was in ruins, a crowd gathered around the building, voices echoing with indignation.

"Today we woke up to find the Consultative Council building vandalized. It’s still unknown who committed such an act of aggression; the police forces are mobilizing in search of information about what happened this early morning," said a journalist in front of the site, the front of the building particularly empty.

It was then that a purple unicorn approached the entrance, examining the walls and windows from bottom to top. Her expression was initially neutral, but her presence quickly drew attention. Both the crowd and the journalist focused on her. Starlight lowered her head, turning toward the public.

Starlight took a deep breath, feeling the weight of every gaze and every hushed whisper in the crowd, all of it feeding the tension in the air. She stepped forward, positioning herself so that her figure was clearly visible to everyone. Her expression was serious yet carried a contained intensity, as if she were about to reveal an inevitable truth.

"Ponies of Equestria!" Her voice sliced through the morning air like a sharp blade, laden with indignation. "What we are witnessing today is not just an act of vandalism. It is not merely an attack on a building. It is an attack on our dignity, on our voice, on every one of us!"

The crowd murmured, and some nodded. The journalist, noticing the impact of her words, signaled his crew to keep the cameras fixed on her.

Starlight stepped forward again, lifting a hoof and pointing to the rubble of the Council. "They want to silence us! They want to divide us! The very ones who claim to represent the people allowed this to happen! Where were the diarchy forces when this attack was carried out? Where were those who claim to protect the stability of Equestria when the symbol of our voice was violated?"

A pony in the crowd shouted, "It’s an outrage!"

Riding the momentum of the revolt, Starlight continued, "And now they ask: Who did this? I ask you: Does it matter? Does it matter who raised the hooves that shattered these windows if it was the incompetence and failure of the diarchy that allowed this to happen?" She paused, letting her words echo. "Does it matter if they were outraged ponies? If they were those who can no longer stand to see their brothers and sisters suffer? If they were those who saw the failure of this system and decided to act?"

The murmuring grew louder. Some eyes hardened, others burned with determination. Starlight pressed on, raising her voice into a thundering roar against the walls of Canterlot.

"But there’s something deeper here! Something that goes beyond a destroyed building! Ask yourselves: Why have we come to this point? Why are so many of us disillusioned? Why do we allow an outdated, ineffective, and failed government to lead us to ruin?" She paused, looking into the faces before her. "The answer is clear. Because the diarchy has failed! It has failed to maintain harmony! It has failed to keep us safe! It has failed to give ponies a future worthy of dignity!"

The crowd began to ignite, with some ponies shouting words of support. Starlight lifted her eyes to the heavens, her voice now brimming with fervent conviction.

"They want us to believe that we need them—that we are nothing without them! But look around you! Look at your brothers, at your sisters! You are the strength of Equestria! You are the ones who make this land prosper! You are the ones who sustain this kingdom, and yet you are treated as mere subjects, as beings inferior to a distant and indifferent royalty!"

Lowering her voice to an almost conspiratorial whisper that demanded to be heard, she said, "And there is only one way out of this. Only one solution that will ensure Equestria is governed by those who truly represent it. Only one path that will lead us to a future where our voice is never silenced again."

Starlight paused dramatically, letting the suspense thicken the air. Then, with a piercing gaze, she declared, "The Parliament!"

The word exploded into the air like a spark falling onto a barrel of gunpowder. The crowd erupted into shouts—some ponies raised their hooves, others stamped the ground in approval. The energy of the moment surged exponentially.

Starlight remained steadfast at the center, watching the crowd ignite with her words. She felt the fervor of the ponies around her, their emotions overflowing with a blend of indignation and hope. This was the moment to press further, to make every one of them believe they were on the brink of an inevitable revolution.

She raised her hoof once more, calling for silence. The agitated crowd gradually quieted, eager for more of her message. Her gaze was charged with conviction and a meticulously rehearsed indignation.

"My friends, look at what they have done to us!" she roared, spinning in place and gesturing toward the ruins of the Consultative Council. "See what this failed regime has brought upon us! Fear, insecurity, division! And when we question, when we ask for something better, they tell us to wait—they tell us that the Consultative Council is enough! They claim they know what is best for us!"

The murmuring deepened as some ponies shook their heads in agreement. Swiftly, Starlight turned, her features set in controlled fury.

"I ask you: Is this what we deserve?"

"No!" the crowd roared in response.

"Do you want to live under a government that does not protect you, that does not listen to you, that allows our future to be crushed?!"

"No!"

Starlight drew a deep breath, letting the tension build in the air. Then, with a tone that mingled disappointment and anger, she pressed on.

"When our streets were overrun by famished ponies, where were they? When our brothers and sisters lost their jobs to those who came from outside, where were Celestia and Luna? When the forces of the Royal Guard crushed our protests, where were the nobles who claim to represent us?!"

With every question, the crowd’s fervor swelled, cries of anger filling the air. Improvised placards began to appear—crafted from scraps of wood and cardboard, some hastily scrawled in ink and charcoal. One read, "Down with the diarchy!" another declared, "Equestria for the Ponies!" But the largest, most imposing sign bore bold, unwavering letters: "Opening of Parliament, NOW!"

Starlight paused again, allowing the protest cries to crescendo. Then, in a softer, almost paternal tone, she continued, "Do not be deceived, my friends. They want to see us divided. They want us to fear one another, to view each other as enemies. But I tell you: the true enemy is out there, hidden in their golden towers, within the walls of Canterlot, watching from above as we suffer!"

The murmuring grew once more. Starlight lowered her eyes, feigning genuine sorrow. "And today, what do we see? Our Council in ruins! Our right to be heard, violated! My friends, this cannot go on! This cannot be allowed!"

A pony from the crowd shouted, "What should we do, Starlight?!"

She lifted her eyes, her expression hardening. "History is made by those who act! History does not favor the weak or the submissive! Do you want change?"

"Yes!" the crowd roared.

"Do you want justice?"

"Yes!"

"Then we can wait no longer! We can no longer accept false promises! It’s time to demand what is rightfully ours!" She pointed to the horizon, toward the walls of Canterlot. "Where should we go? Where should we take our voice?!"

A collective roar arose from the crowd: "To the Palace!"

And then, like an unstoppable wave, the ponies began to move. The procession started slowly but quickly transformed into a full-fledged march. Placards were raised, voices united in one furious chant: "Opening of Parliament, now! Opening of Parliament, now!"

Starlight stood at the center of the march, leading it like a conductor of a symphony of fury and hope. She felt the heat of revolution fill the air, aware that the moment was near. Canterlot, the city that for so long symbolized the authority of the diarchy, now witnessed its very own people marching against it.

And deep down, she smiled. For every step taken in that march brought her closer to her true goal: the political domination of Equestria.

*** *** ***

In front of the Palace, chaos reigned—shouts of repudiation against the Two Sisters and the government filled the air. Placards swung amid the crowd. The Royal Guards held back the ponies, preventing them from storming the castle.

The roar of the crowd echoed beyond the Palace gates, their shouts mingling with the clamor of blows against the Royal Guards’ shields. The sky was already darkening, yet the torches and lanterns hoisted by the protesters illuminated the square as if it were broad daylight. Inside the Palace, the tension was suffocating.

In the meeting room, Celestia sat at the head of the large dark wooden table. Her usually serene countenance now revealed an exhaustion that went far beyond the physical. Beside her, Luna stood, watching her with an expression mixed with frustration and concern.

"I warned you, sister," said Luna, crossing her front hooves. "I told you that something like this could happen. I told you we were letting it grow out of control. But now... it's too late."

Celestia closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. The weight of her own mistakes crushed her. "I only wanted to prevent the worst, Luna... I wanted to believe there was still a peaceful way to resolve this."

"And look where that has gotten us." Luna’s voice was firm, yet a trace of sadness lingered in it.

On the other side of the table, Fancy Pants cleared his throat, trying to steer the meeting back on track. "The question now is: how do we proceed? The Royal Guard has already informed us that they won’t be able to contain the protesters for much longer. If the situation worsens, we’ll suffer casualties. And, frankly, if that happens, our political position will be weaker than ever."

Jet Set studied the news pages on his cell phone, his face as pale as worry itself. "The newspapers are already covering the protests with a negative bias against us. They claim we’re denying the voice of the people and ignoring their needs. Even the moderates are beginning to turn against the diarchy."

Shadow Veil, who had been silently observing until now, finally spoke, his voice laden with a dangerous conviction. "I’ve suspected Starlight for a long time. Her speech earlier only confirmed my theories. She didn’t appear publicly, yet the crowd acts as though she were their beacon. This is no coincidence. She’s manipulating everything behind the scenes."

Vanguard Sword nodded, frowning. "If she didn’t appear directly, it’s because she knows she still can’t expose herself completely. But the chaos we’re witnessing out there... it bears her fingerprints."

Celestia felt tears welling in her eyes. "I should have seen this coming. I should have stopped it before we reached this point..." Her voice faltered, and she lowered her head, allowing the tears to finally fall.

Luna watched her sister in silence for a few moments before approaching. "Crying won’t change anything now, Celestia. We need to make a decision."

Black Spot, who had remained silent until then, finally spoke. "And let’s be honest: we don’t have many options. The only political way out we have left... is Parliament."

A heavy silence settled over the room. The word had been spoken. The idea Celestia had feared now hung over everyone like an inevitable sentence.

"If we resist, the violence will only escalate. The Royal Guard cannot—and must not—turn their weapons on their own citizens," continued Black Spot. "If we open Parliament, at least we might try to steer the course of decisions."

Fancy Pants sighed, adjusting his monocle. "That would be a surrender, but perhaps the only way to salvage what little remains of the diarchy. If we don’t do this, we risk a civil war."

Celestia kept her gaze fixed on the table before her, Black Spot’s words resonating like a death knell in her mind. Parliament. The only viable exit, yet also the only one she feared to admit. Luna watched her intently, waiting for some reaction—any sign of decision.

Outside, the shouts grew louder. The roar of the crowd seemed ever nearer, the Royal Guard forced to retreat slowly under mounting pressure. Fancy Pants closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to envision a future in which the diarchy still existed after this very night.

Jet Set dropped his cell phone onto the table, rubbing his temples. "With every passing minute, our ability to control the situation diminishes. If we hesitate too long, the decision won’t be ours anymore—it’ll be imposed by the people themselves."

Vanguard Sword, ever pragmatic, fixed a stern gaze on Celestia. "Your Highness, we know you’ve always tried to act with diplomacy, but this isn’t a choice we can postpone any longer. If we wait, the crowd will decide for us."

Celestia rose slowly, each movement laden with an unseen weight. Her eyes wandered across the room, taking in the worried and determined faces surrounding her. The afternoon was advancing, and the history of Equestria was turning at that moment, awaiting its next page.

Finally, Luna broke the silence, her voice low yet filled with meaning. "If we choose to open Parliament, it will mark a new era for Equestria. If we don’t... we’ll have to brace ourselves for unpredictable consequences."

Celestia closed her eyes once more, taking a deep breath. Time was running out. Outside, the crowd roared, demanding an answer. Inside, the future of the kingdom hung by a thread.

Only one decision could be made. But, for now, no one dared to speak it aloud.