In the Name of Humanity

by AverageUser

Rating: everyone
Tags: Cozy Glow, Adventure, Princess Celestia, Human, Sunset Shimmer, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Starlight Glimmer, Tirek, Equestria Girls
Length: 8692

After leaving Equestria, Sunset Shimmer rises through government ranks to become Secretary of Defense, determined to reveal—and control—the magical world she left behind. Now, she’ll stop at nothing to protect Earth, even if it means declaring war.

Leaving her past in Equestria behind, Sunset Shimmer rejects the pursuit of friendship and magic for the cutthroat world of politics. Rising to the role of Secretary of Defense, she becomes one of the youngest and most powerful figures in the nation, her true ambition hidden from the public. When she unveils Equestria as a secret, magical realm hoarding unimaginable power and resources, she stirs humanity into a frenzy, declaring that Earth will no longer be ignored. Under her leadership, a militarized force prepares to harness the portal between worlds—an act that will forever alter both dimensions.

With a team of ruthless allies by her side, Sunset orchestrates a campaign to turn public sentiment against Equestria, rallying humanity under the banner of strength and independence. But as she stokes fear and fuels prejudice, old memories of her former mentor, Princess Celestia, begin to resurface. Driven by resentment, revenge, and her own vision of justice, Sunset must balance the desire to protect her new world with a vendetta that could lead to catastrophic war.

Published 2024-11-14 05:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2024-12-06 22:18:36 UTC

1 A New Enemy

The sea of faces before her rippled with anticipation. Secretary Sunset Shimmer stood at the podium, her fiery hair catching the afternoon sun as it streamed through the Capitol's windows. At thirty-two, she was the youngest Secretary of Defense in the nation's history. Her meteoric rise through state legislature to federal politics had been nothing short of extraordinary—though that word held a different meaning for her than for the thousands gathered below.

"My fellow Americans," she began, her voice carrying the practiced warmth that had won her elections and hearts alike. "Today I stand before you not just as your Secretary of Defense, but as someone who has seen the truth that lurks beyond our world—a truth that has been hidden from you."

The crowd stirred. Sunset allowed herself a small smile, feeling the familiar surge of power that came with controlling a crowd. How far she'd come from that frightened teenage girl who'd fled through the mirror portal fifteen years ago, burning with shame and rage at Celestia's rejection.

"There exists another world," she continued, her voice rising. "A world of creatures who believe themselves our superiors. Who have watched us, judged us, and deemed us unworthy of contact. They call themselves Equestria." She spat the word like poison.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. On the massive screens behind her, carefully prepared images began to play—artistic renderings of Equestria that her team had created, making the peaceful realm appear dark and threatening. Canterlot Castle loomed like a weapon aimed at Earth's heart.

"They possess magic beyond our comprehension. Technology that could revolutionize our world. Knowledge that could end disease, hunger, and war. And what have they done with it?" Sunset's fist crashed down on the podium. "They have hoarded it! They have deemed us lesser beings, unworthy of their gifts!"

The crowd's energy was shifting now, fear and anger replacing curiosity. Sunset fed on it, letting it fuel her performance. Her hand swept out in a gesture that encompassed the entire gathering.

"Look around you! Look at your children! Every day they struggle with diseases that Equestria could cure. Every night, families go hungry when Equestrian magic could feed nations. They watch us suffer, and they do nothing!"

She didn't mention that Equestria had no idea Earth existed. That the portal was a forgotten relic, that Celestia had never meant to harm her. Those were inconvenient truths that would only muddy her message. The crowd didn't want truth—they wanted an enemy.

"But I have seen their world! I know their weaknesses!" Her voice reached a fever pitch. "For too long, they have looked down on us from their crystal towers. The time has come to show them humanity's strength!"

The crowd was roaring now. Sunset could feel them in her grip, their emotions putty in her hands. How different was this from the magic she'd once pursued? This was its own kind of power—raw, primal, and intoxicating.

"When I was younger," she softened her voice, letting vulnerability seep in—another calculated move—"I witnessed their arrogance firsthand. Their so-called Princess Celestia..." She paused, letting the foreign title hang in the air like a threat. "She believes herself a god. Believes she has the right to decide which worlds prosper and which remain in darkness."

Images of Celestia flashed on the screens, altered to appear more threatening, her majestic form twisted into something alien and menacing. The crowd's fear was palpable now.

"But we will not bow to false gods! We will not accept their judgment!" Each word was a hammer stroke against the anvil of the crowd's psyche. "America has never knelt before tyrants, and we will not start now!"

The cheering was deafening. Sunset could see tears in some eyes, rage in others. Perfect. They were ready for the final push.

"I stand before Congress tomorrow to propose the formation of a new military division: the Interdimensional Defense Force. We will harness the portal's power. We will develop weapons to counter their magic. And we will show Equestria that humanity will not be ignored!"

The crowd erupted into chants of "Earth First!" and "Protect Our World!"—phrases her team had carefully seeded through social media over the past months. Sunset raised her hands, basking in their fervor.

Behind her practiced smile, memories flickered: Celestia's disappointed face, the shame of rejection, the burning need to prove herself that had driven her through the mirror. She had wanted power then, yes, but it had been a child's understanding of power. This—the ability to turn thousands of minds toward her purpose, to shape the very course of two worlds—this was real power.

"The time has come!" Sunset's voice cracked through the air like thunder. "Will you stand with me against these otherworldly oppressors?"

The crowd's response was primal, almost animalistic. "CRUSH EQUESTRIA! CRUSH EQUESTRIA!" The chant reverberated through the Capitol building, making the crystal chandeliers tremble.

"For our children!" Sunset thrust her fist skyward.

"FOR OUR CHILDREN!" the crowd echoed, thousands of fists joining hers.

"For humanity!"

"FOR HUMANITY!"

"For Earth!"

"FOR EARTH!"

As the roars reached a crescendo, Sunset allowed herself one final, victorious smile before turning from the podium. Let them scream themselves hoarse. The real work happened behind closed doors.

As she left the podium to thunderous applause, Sunset caught her reflection in a window. For a moment, she thought she saw her old unicorn form superimposed over her human one, both wearing the same expression of triumphant satisfaction. Tomorrow, Congress would approve her proposal—she'd spent years ensuring she had the votes. Within months, the portal would be militarized. And then...

"Soon, Princess," she whispered to herself as she walked off stage, her high heels clicking against marble like a countdown. "Soon you'll see exactly what your 'unworthy' student has become."

The roar of the crowd followed her like a gathering storm.

Security personnel flanked her as she strode off stage, though the massive figure of Tirek made them seem almost redundant. Her chief of security towered over everyone, his crimson suit stretched across shoulders that seemed better suited to a tank than a man. His eyes constantly scanned for threats, though Sunset knew what he really watched for—any sign of magic. His hunger for it was almost palpable.

"Magnificent performance, Secretary Shimmer," a sweet, high-pitched voice called out as Sunset entered the preparation room. "The part about false gods was especially moving. I added that last night!"

Cozy Glow sat perched on the edge of a desk, her legs swinging innocently. The twelve-year-old was dressed in an immaculate private school uniform, her cotton-candy hair tied back with a ribbon that probably cost more than most people's monthly salary. She looked like she should be selling Girl Scout cookies, not crafting speeches that could start a war.

"You're getting better at this," Sunset acknowledged, watching as the girl's eyes lit up at the praise. Finding this world's Cozy Glow had been a masterstroke. The moment Sunset had seen records of the Equestrian version's attempted takeover of the School of Friendship, she'd known the human counterpart would be just as valuable. It hadn't taken much to convince Cozy's wealthy parents that a "youth leadership program" with the Secretary of Defense would be good for their precocious daughter's future.

"The crowd practically frothed at the mouth when you mentioned their children suffering," Cozy continued, her cherubic face beaming with pride. "Fear and family—the two best motivators! That's what Miss Glimmer taught me."

"And you're learning well, little one." Starlight Glimmer emerged from the shadows of the room's far corner, her distinctive purple-streaked hair styled severely back. Unlike Tirek's obvious physical presence, Starlight's power lay in her eyes—cold, calculating, and utterly convinced of her own righteousness. "Though remember: fear is a tool, not a solution. True equality comes when everyone surrenders their power willingly."

Sunset suppressed a smirk. Starlight's "equality movement" had been making headlines when Sunset first found her—a cult leader who'd convinced hundreds to surrender their wealth, identities, and free will to her vision of a perfectly equal society. The FBI had been closing in, but Sunset had seen an opportunity. Who better to help control the masses than someone who'd already proven she could make people give up everything they were?

"Speaking of power," Tirek rumbled, his deep voice seeming to vibrate the water glasses on the nearby table, "when do we begin the real work? Speeches are well and good, but I was promised—"

"Patience," Sunset cut him off sharply. "The military will have access to the portal soon enough. And once we understand how to harness Equestrian magic..." She let the sentence hang, watching Tirek's eyes glaze with naked hunger.

"The preparations at Site Mirror are proceeding on schedule," Starlight reported, all business now. "Our scientists have already replicated several of the portal's harmonic frequencies. Once Congress approves the IDF, we can begin full testing within weeks."

"Excellent." Sunset moved to the room's window, looking out over the crowd still chanting below. "And the opposition?"

"Handled!" Cozy chirped, pulling out a tablet. "Three major peace groups are now officially under investigation for 'foreign influence.' The media's running our leaked photos of their leaders with suspicious 'humanitarian aid' packages. And my social media team has their hashtags completely buried under patriotic counterpoints!" She beamed. "It's like you always say, Secretary Shimmer—the truth is whatever we say it is!"

"Good girl." Sunset patted Cozy's head, ignoring how the child's eyes remained as cold and calculating as ever. Let her plot and scheme—it only made her more useful.

"There is... one small concern," Starlight interjected, sliding a folder across the desk. "Our surveillance picked up unusual energy readings near the old school. Similar to when you first... arrived."

Sunset's hand froze above the folder. "Another breach?"

"Inconclusive. But if Equestria has finally noticed—"

"They haven't." Sunset's voice could have frozen flame. "Celestia is too arrogant to imagine anyone could use her precious mirror without permission. By the time she realizes what's happening, it'll be too late." She picked up the folder anyway. "Still, increase security at the site. We can't risk anyone else discovering the portal before we're ready."

"Already done," Tirek confirmed. "My men shoot to kill."

"Perfect." Sunset turned back to the window, watching her reflection overlay the crowd below. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine Celestia's face when she realized what her former student had accomplished. The thought made her smile.

"Cozy, draft a follow-up speech for next week. Something about unity and sacrifice. Starlight, make sure our friends in Congress stay focused on the vote. Tirek..." She paused. "Break something if you need to. Just keep it quiet."

Her team moved with practiced efficiency, each to their assigned tasks. They were a strange gathering—a cult leader, a thug obsessed with power, and a child sociopath—but they were *her* strange gathering. Her weapons, honed and aimed at the heart of Equestria.

The crowd's chants had evolved again: "SHIMMER! SHIMMER! SHIMMER!"

Sunset closed her eyes, savoring the sound. Let Celestia keep her crown, her castle, her precious harmony. Soon, Sunset would show her old mentor what real power looked like.

Soon, she would show everyone.

Author's Note

I mainly got this first chapter as I always felt Sunset was underused, she was the student of a goddess yet the best she can do is be a high school bully? What if she truly lived up to her potental, Also I wanted this story to focus on if Sunset was smarter, she can still see into Equestria (as she does in cannon somehow) as thats how she found Cozy

2 Written Into Law

Sunset Shimmer's heels clicked against the sterile floor of Site Mirror, each step echoing through the reinforced concrete facility she had overseen since acquiring the school all those years ago. She paused before the stone statue, now encased in a cage of sensors and instruments, the portal to Equestria under her complete control.

"Fifteen years," she murmured, reaching out to touch the cold stone. Though this portal wasn't a mirror like the one to Equestria, she could almost see her reflection staring back at her, for a moment she saw herself as she had been a young unicorn, mane ablaze with fury and wounded pride, charging through this very portal.

Security cameras whirred overhead, recording her every move. Let them watch. Soon, the final vote would pass. The Interdimensional Defense Force would become reality, and this portal would become the spear pointed at Equestria's heart.

The memory rose unbidden, as sharp and clear as the day it happened...

Fifteen Years Earlier - Canterlot Castle

"SUNSET SHIMMER!"

Princess Celestia's voice cracked like thunder through the restricted section of the castle library. Sunset's head snapped up from the ancient tome she'd been studying, her horn still glowing with the magic she'd used to bypass the wards on the forbidden books.

The Princess of the Sun stood in the doorway, her ethereal mane writhing with barely contained anger. Behind her, royal guards waited at attention.

"How dare you violate the seals on these texts?" Celestia's voice held none of its usual warmth. "After everything I've taught you about the responsible use of power—"

"Everything you've taught me?" Sunset slammed the book shut, her own anger flaring. "You've taught me to be weak! To hold back! These books show the true potential of magic, the power we could wield—"

"Power without wisdom is worse than no power at all." Celestia's eyes fell on the open scrolls about the mirror portal, and her expression hardened further. "So. This obsession continues."

"It's not an obsession!" Sunset's horn flared brighter. "It's the key to everything! Other worlds, other magics... Why are you so afraid of what we could learn? What we could become?"

For a long moment, Celestia simply stared at her prized pupil. When she spoke, her voice was heavy with finality: "Sunset Shimmer, I am removing you from the position of my pupil. If we cannot get past this, your studies end here. You are welcome to stay in Canterlot, but you are no longer welcome in the castle."

The words hit Sunset like physical blows. All her dreams, her ambitions, her destiny—shattered in a single sentence. Her vision blurred with tears of rage.

"We'll never get past this because you aren't seeing how great I deserve to be!" she screamed, magic crackling around her horn. "Is that really all you have to say to me?"

Celestia's expression didn't change. "No. The guards will escort you out."

The guards moved forward, their own horns glowing. But Sunset had spent years studying forbidden battle magic in secret. The first guard went flying before he could blink. The second's shield shattered like glass. The third—

"ENOUGH!" Celestia's horn blazed with solar fury.

But Sunset was already running, her hooves clattering on marble floors. She knew the castle better than any guard. Knew exactly where the mirror waited. Behind her, she could hear shouts, the thunder of armored hooves.

The portal chamber door burst open under her magic. The mirror stood there, its surface rippling invitingly. No time to study it now. No time to prepare. Just—

"Sunset, stop!" Celestia's voice, closer than expected. "You don't understand what you're doing!"

"I understand perfectly!" Sunset snarled, backing toward the mirror. "You're afraid! Afraid of any student who might surpass you! Well, I'll show you! I'll show everypony!"

She felt the mirror's surface touch her tail. Cold, like liquid metal.

"Sunset, please—"

But she was already diving through, the world dissolving into a kaleidoscope of color and sensation. The last thing she saw was Celestia's face, not angry now but...scared?

Then everything changed.

The impact knocked the breath from unfamiliar lungs. Sunset gasped, grappling with sensations that felt wrong, foreign. Her body was heavier, clumsier. She tried to summon her magic instinctively, but nothing came. Her horn—gone. Her magic—gone.

Panic gripped her as she stared down at her limbs. Hands. She flexed her new fingers, stunned by their odd, slender shape. What are these? Her legs, too, were bent strangely beneath her, folding in ways that felt unstable. She fumbled to push herself upright, her new hands pressing against the rough, cold ground. Her whole body felt unsettlingly fragile, almost…soft.

Her breathing came quickly, unevenly. Without magic, even the comforting aura of her horn’s glow absent, she felt exposed, vulnerable in a way she hadn’t experienced since foalhood.

A large building loomed before her—some kind of school, students milling about. For a moment, she considered seeking help there. But no. She was Celestia's student—former student—she was meant for greater things than whatever passed for education in this primitive realm.

Fighting down panic at her transformed body, she staggered to her feet. She had no magic, no position, no power... yet. But she had her mind. Her ambition. Her rage.

"I'll show you, Celestia," she whispered, turning away from the school and toward the distant city skyline. "I'll build the kind of power you never dreamed of. And when I'm done..."

Present Day - Site Mirror

Sunset blinked, returning to the present. Her hand was still pressed against the statues cold stone surface, but now she smiled at the thought. That frightened, furious girl was gone, replaced by someone far more dangerous.

"Secretary Shimmer?" An aide appeared in the doorway. "The vote is going to be starting soon. They're requesting your presence on the Hill."

"Perfect timing." Sunset straightened her jacket. "Time to make history."

As she turned to leave, she paused for one last look at the statue. Soon, very soon, she would show Celestia exactly what her 'unworthy' student had become. And this time, there would be no guards to stop her.

This time, she will have an army.

Sunset's private elevator ascended the Capitol building, giving her a panoramic view of Washington D.C. How different from Canterlot's crystal spires, yet power was power, no matter the world. Her phone buzzed—a message from Cozy Glow.

"Trending topics updated! #ProtectEarth and #ShimmerSpeaks dominating social media. Opposition dropping fast. PS - Should I wear my blue dress for the cameras? More innocent? 😇"

Sunset smiled. That girl was almost too perfect—a masterpiece of manipulation wrapped in pigtails and peter pan collars. "Blue dress. Tears when they announce the vote. Make them think of their own children."

The elevator doors opened to controlled chaos. Staffers rushed through marble halls, phones pressed to ears. News crews jockeyed for position. And there, waiting with perfect posture, stood Starlight Glimmer.

"Final whip count just came in," Starlight murmured as they walked. "We're plus seven over predicted. The campaign exceeded expectations."

"Of course it did." Sunset's heels clicked against marble. "Amazing what people will believe when you tell them their children are in danger. Status of the protesters?"

"Contained. Tirek's security teams have them cordoned six blocks out. Media's focusing on the handful getting aggressive, just as planned. Makes our side look more reasonable."

They paused before the House chamber doors. Inside, Sunset could hear the droning of procedural votes. Soon, they would reach the main event: The Interdimensional Defense and Security Act of 2024.

"It's almost funny," Sunset mused. "In Equestria, I wanted power through pure force. Here, humans just... give it away. Feed them enough fear, enough anger, enough righteous indignation..."

"And they'll beg you to take their freedom," Starlight finished with a knowing smile. "That was my mistake with the commune. Too much stick, not enough carrot. You've perfected the balance."

The chamber doors opened. Sunset straightened her jacket, composing her features into what Cozy called her "stern but concerned patriot" look. As she walked to her designated seat, she caught sight of the girl herself in the visitor's gallery, right on cue in her blue dress, looking every inch the worried schoolchild.

Representatives rose to speak, each reading from carefully prepared statements—most written by Sunset's team. The 'opposition' raised exactly the right concerns, easily dismissed by the 'spontaneous' rebuttals her supporters provided. A perfectly choreographed dance of democracy.

"The chair recognizes the Secretary of Defense," the Speaker intoned.

Sunset approached the podium, feeling hundreds of eyes upon her. How many of these politicians had she cultivated over the years? How many affairs covered up, crimes overlooked, favors granted? The web of influence she'd woven would have made Queen Chrysalis proud.

"Honorable Representatives," she began, her voice carrying that precise mix of authority and concern that had become her trademark. "Today we stand at a crossroads. Not just as a nation, but as a species..."

As she spoke, her mind drifted to that first year on Earth. The scramble for documentation, for money, for any foothold in this strange world. But even then, she'd seen the patterns. The way humans responded to fear. To charisma. To the promise of safety at any cost.

She'd started small. Student government. Local politics. Always positioning herself as the protector, the voice of reason in a dangerous world. By the time she reached state legislature, she'd mastered the art of making people thank her for taking their power.

"...and so I ask you, not as your Secretary of Defense, but as a fellow human being: What price is too high for the safety of our children?"

In the gallery, right on cue, Cozy Glow wiped away a perfectly timed tear.

"The vote is now called on H.R. 1701, The Interdimensional Defense and Security Act," the Speaker announced. "Members will cast their votes."

Sunset watched the electronic board as numbers climbed. This vote would give her complete authority over the portal. A blank check for military development. The power to designate "interdimensional threats" without oversight.

Everything she'd worked for, distilled into simple yes/no counts.

Sunset's gaze was fixed on the electronic board, her eyes locked on the numbers as they steadily rose. Each one a heartbeat, each second a step closer to destiny. This vote—her vote—was the key to absolute control over the portal. It wasn’t just a bill; it was a blank check, a license to shape the future of military might, to carve the path of nations.

Every sacrifice. Every compromise. Every moment of waiting, of patience, had led to this. It was all coming down to these simple numbers. Yes. No. A stark binary.

The final count flashed across the screen. The words that followed were as cold as they were final.

"The bill is passed. 318 to 117."

And in that moment, she knew—this was the moment that would change everything. Forever.

Applause erupted. Sunset allowed herself a modest smile for the cameras. In the gallery, Cozy was hugging herself with perfectly choreographed relief. Starlight was already typing on her phone, probably activating the next phase of their plan.

As she left the chamber, surrounded by congratulating politicians, Sunset caught her reflection in a window. For just a moment, she saw her unicorn self again—not the angry young mare who'd fled through the mirror, but the powerful alicorn she'd once dreamed of becoming.

"I didn't need wings after all, Celestia," she whispered to herself. "I just needed humans to give me what you wouldn't."

Her phone buzzed again. A message from Tirek: "Site Mirror ready. Military teams awaiting your order."

Sunset smiled. The real work could finally begin.

The Capitol steps were a sea of microphones and camera flashes. Behind Sunset, carefully positioned for maximum symbolic effect, stood the National Mall—the monuments to American power and sacrifice providing a perfect backdrop for what was to come.

Cozy Glow had outdone herself with this staging. The girl stood to Sunset's right, still in her perfect blue dress, clutching a small American flag.

"My fellow Americans," Sunset began, her voice carrying the perfect mix of triumph and solemnity. "Today marks a historic moment in human history. Not just American history—human history." She paused, letting the words hang in the air. "For too long, we have looked to the stars for threats to our way of life. We built missiles to guard against enemies we could see. But today, we acknowledge a deeper truth: that the greatest threats may come not from above, but from between—from spaces and realms that our finest scientists are only beginning to understand."

She gripped the podium's edges, leaning forward with practiced intensity. "The Interdimensional Defense and Security Act is more than legislation. It is a declaration. A declaration that humanity will not cower in ignorance. That we will not wait for otherworldly powers to decide our fate. That we will stand united, not just as Americans, but as defenders of Earth itself!"

The reporters were transfixed. Even the usually cynical press corps couldn't help being swept along. In the front row, Cozy Glow dabbed at her eyes with a small American flag handkerchief, the perfect picture of patriotic youth.

"I know there are those who counsel patience. Who say we should wait, should study, should extend a hand in peaceful greeting." Sunset's voice hardened. "But I ask you: Would you wait if you knew a stranger was watching your children through their bedroom window? Would you 'study' an intruder who had the power to enter your home at will?"

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. Fear, Sunset had learned, was like a musical instrument. Play it skillfully enough, and you could make it sing.

"They say we move too quickly, too decisively." Sunset's voice dropped to a near-whisper, making the crowd lean in. "To them, I say: look to our history. When fascism threatened Europe, did we wait? When our allies called for aid, did we hesitate? No! We acted! We sacrificed! We triumph!"

"The passage of this act gives us the tools we need to defend our world. Even now, our finest minds are working to understand the portal technology. Our bravest soldiers are training for challenges no human army has faced before. And soon—very soon—we will show any watching powers that humanity will not be passive observers in our own destiny!"

She could see Starlight at the back of the room, nodding in approval. They'd practiced this part extensively. The key was to make the military buildup sound defensive, reactive rather than aggressive. Let the public think they were the ones being protected, not the ones preparing for invasion.

"I'll be stepping back from public appearances in the coming months," she continued, letting a note of reluctance enter her voice. "The work ahead requires my full attention. But know this: Every hour, every minute I'm not before you, I am working to keep our world safe. To keep our children safe. To ensure that Earth remains free!"

The crowd erupted in applause. Sunset raised her hand, calling for silence.

"There will be sacrifices ahead. There will be those who question the resources we devote to this cause. To them, I say: What price would you put on humanity's future? What cost is too high to ensure our children never bow before otherworldly powers?"

In the crowd, parents clutched their children closer. Sunset suppressed a smile. Humans were so predictable when it came to their offspring. Even the most hardened skeptic could be swayed by a hint of threat to the next generation.

"And so, my fellow Americans, I ask for your trust. Your patience. Your unity. In the months ahead, you may hear strange sounds in the night. See lights in the sky you cannot explain. Rest assured: These are not threats, but rather signs of your government working tirelessly to protect you."

Perfect. Plant the seeds now for explaining away any magical accidents during the testing phase.

"Remember: We are not just any nation. We are America. We have faced threats that seemed insurmountable before. We have stood against powers that thought us weak. And every time—every single time—we have emerged stronger!"

She brought her voice to a powerful crescendo: "So let them watch! Let them scheme in their crystal towers! Let them think us primitive or powerless! Because soon they will learn what every tyrant throughout history has learned: That there is no force in any universe more powerful than humanity united! No magic stronger than American resolve! And no world—earthly or otherwise—that can stand against us when we stand together!"

The crowd erupted into chants of "U-S-A! U-S-A!" Sunset waved, the perfect picture of patriotic dedication. Cozy Glow clutched her hand, tears streaming down her cherubic face.

"God bless you all," Sunset concluded. "And God bless America!"

The room exploded with cheers and camera flashes. Sunset stepped back from the podium, acknowledging the ovation with a stern nod. As she turned to leave, she caught sight of her reflection in the bulletproof glass. For a moment, she thought she saw Celestia's face superimposed over the crowd, wearing that same disappointed expression from so long ago.

Sunset's smile turned cold. Let her former mentor disapprove. Soon, very soon, disappointment would be the least of Celestia's concerns.

She had an army to build.

Author's Note

I’m writing this story one chapter at a time so if you have any ideas or suggestions please feel free to share them!

3 Memories

In the secure depths of Site Mirror, past the military checkpoints and biometric scanners, Sunset Shimmer kept a private office. Unlike the stark modernism of the facility around it this room held a glimmer of warmth, if looked more like the interior of a small wooden cabin then a war room for one of the most powerful politicians in the world, and in a drawer protected by more locks than the facility's weapons cache: a simple leather-bound journal.

The notebook looked innocuous enough: leather-bound, well-worn, its pages yellowed with age. No one would guess it held magic powerful enough to bridge worlds. Sunset's fingers traced the golden sun embossed on its cover—Her own cutie mark back in Equestria.

Sunset poured herself a generous measure of bourbon—an Earth custom she'd grown to appreciate—and settled into her chair. The journal's pages fell open naturally to the most read section, the entries from those first desperate days after she'd fled through the mirror.

My dearest Sunset,

Your room remains exactly as you left it. The guards tell me you took nothing with you but this journal. I hope that means you're reading these words.

What you did was reckless, but I understand the pain that drove you to it. Please, come home. We can work through this together. You have such potential, such brightness within you. Don't let anger dim that light.

The portal will remain open. I will be waiting.

- Celestia

Sunset,

Three days now. The castle feels emptier without your presence. Even the guards you injured ask after you—they hold no grudge, only concern.

I blame myself. Perhaps I was too harsh, too quick to judge. But you must understand: the magic you were pursuing, the paths you were exploring... they lead only to darkness. I've seen it before. Lost others to it before.

Whatever you think of me now, know that every restriction, every rule was meant to protect you, not hold you back.

Please come home.

- Celestia

Sunset took a long drink, letting the bourbon burn away the tightness in her throat. Fifteen years, and still these early entries could affect her. Weakness. She forced herself to read on.

That was from the first week. Sunset remembered seeing it appear, huddled in a cheap motel room, still learning to use her new human hands. She hadn't responded.

My dear student,

A week has passed. The portal closes tomorrow, and my heart grows heavy with the thought that you might truly mean to stay in that other world. What are you seeing there? What are you learning? Are you safe?

I keep passing your room. Yesterday, I found one of your old study scrolls—your theories on the nature of magical resonance. Even then, your mind was exceptional. So much promise, so much potential...

The portal will open again in thirty moons. I will keep writing, keep hoping.

Please be safe. Please come home.

- Celestia

The entries continued, month after month, year after year. Sunset skimmed past them, her finger tracing familiar words. Updates about Equestria. Gentle encouragement. Always that same refrain: come home.

Then came the entry that had changed everything:

Sunset,

I've taken on a new student. Her name is Twilight Sparkle. She reminds me of you in many ways—brilliant, dedicated, hungry for knowledge. But where your path led to ambition, hers leads to friendship.

This changes nothing between us. Your place in Canterlot remains open. Your potential remains undimmed. A new student doesn't mean I've forgotten my first.

Please, read these words with an open heart.

- Celestia

Sunset's grip tightened on the journal. Twilight Sparkle. The name alone made her teeth clench. She flipped forward, watching Celestia's monthly updates chronicle Twilight's rise.

Twilight made an incredible breakthrough in magical theory today. I wish you could have seen it. The two of you would have such fascinating discussions...

Twilight has begun studying the Elements of Harmony. Her potential is remarkable. But I still think of how you...

My faithful student Twilight has...

Faithful student. How those words burned. Sunset flipped faster through the pages, watching Twilight's rise through Celestia's flowing script:

Twilight saved the Crystal Empire today. I've never been prouder...

The magic Twilight displayed was beyond anything I expected. She's growing so quickly...

Today, Twilight became something remarkable. Her transformation into an alicorn...

The page crinkled under Sunset's suddenly tight grip. Twilight Sparkle. The name. Every achievement, every milestone, each one a dagger in Sunset's heart.

The most recent entry sat unopened at the back of the journal, arrived just days ago:

My dear Sunset,

Fifteen years. Sometimes it seems impossible that so much time has passed. Sometimes it feels like yesterday that you ran through the portal. I still remember the look in your eyes—not anger, though you tried to show only that. Fear. Pain. Betrayal.

Twilight speaks often of redemption, of the power of friendship to heal old wounds. I think of you when she says these things. Wonder if somewhere in that other world, you've found ponies—people—who see the light in you that I always saw.

The portal opens again soon. After all this time, I still hope. Your room still waits. Your home still waits.

I still wait.

With eternal hope,

Celestia

Sunset slammed the journal shut, her hands shaking. Redemption? Friendship? The old fool still didn't understand. Still thought of her as that lost little filly who needed guidance, needed saving.

She stood, walking to her office window. Below, military vehicles moved through Site Mirror like ants, preparing for war. Scientists worked on harnessing the portal's power. Soldiers trained for interdimensional combat.

"You're wrong, Celestia," Sunset whispered to her reflection. "I don't need saving. I don't need redemption. I need you to see—really see—what I've become. What you could have had, if you hadn't been so blind."

She returned to her desk, opened the journal to a fresh page. For the first time in fifteen years, she put pen to paper:

Dear Celestia,

You're right. The portal opens soon.

I'm coming home.

She closed the journal, smiling at her reflection in the window. Let Celestia interpret that however she wished. Let her hope and wait and dream of redemption.

The truth would be so much more satisfying.

Author's Note

This is a experimental chapter mostly focusing on building Celestias character a bit (as they will almost certainly be important later in the story) I know the portals opening soon but likely il try to slow down on the naritive pace to help introduce each of the characters more, this is mostly setting up the conflict

Interlude: The Scientific Method

Dr. Twilight Sparkle's laboratory in the Division of Magical Anomalies was exactly 47.3 square meters. She knew this because she'd measured it herself fourteen times, each with increasing precision. The same way she'd measured the exact distance between her monitoring equipment (2.34 meters), the optimal temperature for her instruments (22.8°C), and the precise angle of her desk lamp (42 degrees) for maximum illumination with minimal screen glare.

Numbers were comfortable. Numbers made sense. Unlike the constant stream of social invitations she kept having to deflect from her colleagues.

She'd been recruited right out of graduate school, her thesis on theoretical cross-dimensional physics catching someone's attention. They'd offered her everything she'd ever wanted: unlimited research funding, cutting-edge equipment, and most importantly, minimal human interaction requirements. Just her, her data, and the mysterious energy readings that kept her up at night.

"Spike, run simulation series 47-B again. There's something we're missing in the quantum fluctuations."

"Running simulation 47-B," a pleasant male voice responded from the speakers. "Though I feel compelled to point out this is the seventh time we've run this particular test, and it's well past your designated bedtime."

Twilight pushed her glasses up her nose, ignoring the AI's concern. "Designated bedtimes are for people who don't have breakthrough theories about interdimensional energy signatures to prove."

"Of course. How silly of me to prioritize basic human needs over the possibility of proving that magic exists. Again."

She smiled despite herself. She'd programmed Spike to be efficient, not sarcastic. Somehow he'd developed that all on his own—a fascinating example of emergent AI behavior that she really should study when she had time. Which would be never, given her current workload.

"I programmed you to be my research assistant, not my mother," Twilight muttered, though there was fondness in her irritation. Spike had been her first major achievement—an AI designed to help process the massive amounts of data generated by magical phenomena. She'd coded him during her senior year at college, naming him after the little dog she'd had as a child. Over the years, he'd developed quite the personality.

"Speaking of mothers," Spike continued, "yours called again. Something about dinner this weekend?"

"Tell her I'm busy." Twilight zoomed in on a particular energy spike. "The thaumic resonance patterns aren't matching any known magical signatures. If I can just isolate the variance..."

"Twilight, Dr. Moon Dancer left you three messages about tomorrow's lunch plans and you responded to approximately none."

Twilight waved dismissively at the nearest camera. "Tell her I'm in the middle of crucial calculations. She'll understand."

"She specifically said, and I quote: 'If she tries to bail again with some excuse about calculations, tell her this is the third time this month and even brilliant scientists need to eat something besides vending machine coffee and protein bars.'"

"I had a salad yesterday!"

"That was last week, Dr. Sparkle."

Before Twilight could argue further, a new voice called from the lab doorway. "Talking to your computer again, Twilight?"

Moon Dancer stood there, her white lab coat as rumpled as her messy bun, holding two cups of what smelled like actual, real coffee. Despite the late hour, she looked completely alert—another scientist who treated sleep as an inconvenient interruption of research time.

Twilight frowned, caught between irritation at the interruption and the comfort of familiarity. Moon Dancer was one of the few people she didn’t entirely mind.

"Spike is an advanced artificial intelligence, not just a computer," Twilight corrected automatically, but she reached eagerly for the offered coffee. "What are you doing here so late?"

"Early, technically." Moon Dancer pulled up a chair, glancing at Twilight's screens. "And I'm here because someone needs to make sure our department's most brilliant mind doesn't forget she's also human. Plus, I had a thought about your quantum signature theory."

"Is it already?" Twilight glanced at the clock for the first time in hours. 3:47 AM. "Oh. I guess I got caught up in the data."

Moon Dancer sighed, dropping the papers on a nearby desk. "You know, there's this crazy thing called work-life balance. Some people even have hobbies."

"This is my hobby." Twilight gestured to the screens around her. "Look at these readings! The magical field is showing quantum-level fluctuations that completely contradict established thaumic theory. It's fascinating!"

"It's three in the morning," Moon Dancer countered. "The anomalies will still be anomalous after you get some sleep."

Twilight was about to argue when Spike's voice interrupted: "Diagnostic complete, Dr. Sparkle. You're going to want to see this."

New data flooded the screens. Twilight leaned forward, her fatigue forgotten. "These patterns... they're almost like—"

"Like they're bleeding through from somewhere else," Moon Dancer finished, her own scientific curiosity overcoming her concern for Twilight's sleep schedule. "The energy signatures don't match anything in our database."

"Because they're not from our world." Twilight's fingers flew across her keyboard, bringing up comparison charts. "Remember my thesis? About how certain types of radiation might actually be magical energy bleeding through from... somewhere else?"

"Your 'parallel magical dimension' theory?" Moon Dancer adjusted her glasses. "The one everyone said was impossible?"

"Dr. Sparkle," Spike interrupted, "your heart rate is elevated and your dopamine levels are spiking. Should I be concerned?"

"She's fine, Spike," Moon Dancer laughed. "She just gets like this when she's about to have a breakthrough."

Twilight barely heard them. Her world had narrowed to the data streaming across her screens, to the patterns that had haunted her dreams since she'd first detected them in college. Everyone had said she was crazy. That magic was just another natural force to be studied, like electricity or gravity. But she'd known—had always known—there was something more.

"Hey." Moon Dancer's voice broke through her focus. "When was the last time you ate something that wasn't coffee?"

"Food is inefficient," Twilight muttered, still typing. "It takes time away from research."

"Humans require approximately 2000 calories per day to function optimally," Spike chimed in. "Your current caloric intake is approximately 47% of recommended levels."

"Traitor," Twilight glared at the nearest camera.

"I'm programmed to assist you, Dr. Sparkle. That includes preventing you from collapsing face-first into your keyboard."

Moon Dancer pulled out her phone. "I'm ordering pizza. And you're going to eat it. And then you're going to tell me about these readings like a normal person, over food, instead of just vibrating in your chair making excited science noises."

Twilight finally looked away from her screens, blinking at her colleague. "I don't make excited science noises."

"You absolutely do," Spike and Moon Dancer said in unison.

Despite herself, Twilight felt a small smile tugging at her lips. She didn't have many friends—didn't really see the point of them, usually. Science was cleaner. Data didn't expect you to remember its birthday or ask about its feelings. But moments like this...

"Fine," she conceded. "Pizza. But I'm bringing the datasets with me."

"Wouldn't expect anything less." Moon Dancer was already dialing. "The usual? Extra mushrooms, no human interaction required?"

"You know me so well." Twilight turned back to her screens, but not before catching Moon Dancer's fond eye roll.

"Spike, compile all the anomaly data from the past week. And run a correlation analysis with the historical patterns we've been tracking."

"Already on it, Dr. Sparkle. Though I feel compelled to point out that you have that faculty mixer tomorrow—"

"Today," Moon Dancer corrected.

"—today at 2 PM. Prof Cadance specifically requested your presence."

Twilight groaned. "Can't I just send them my latest paper instead?"

"Your sister-in-law said, and I quote: 'If Twilight tries to send another research paper instead of showing up in person, I'm cutting off her coffee supply.'"

"She wouldn't dare."

"Would you like to risk it?" Spike's voice carried a distinct note of amusement.

Twilight slumped in her chair, watching the magical energy patterns dance across her screens. Sometimes she envied them—pure energy, pure purpose, unburdened by social obligations or family expectations or the constant, exhausting need to interact with other humans.

"The pizza will be here in fifteen minutes," Moon Dancer announced. "No eating over the keyboards this time."

"That was one time!"

"Three times," Spike corrected. "I have video evidence."

Twilight glared at the nearest camera again, but there was no real heat in it. This was her world—her comfortable, ordered, logical world. Data and pizza and an AI who mothered her and exactly one friend who understood that sometimes silence was better than small talk.

Author's Note

Trying to explore the human versions of the Mane Six

Interlude: Boot Camp

"Rainbow Dash! You call that a push-up? My grandma does better push-ups than that, and she's been dead for ten years!" Sergeant Spitfire's voice boomed across the training ground, echoing off the concrete walls of the obstacle course. Rainbow Dash gritted her teeth, pushing herself up one more agonizing inch. Every muscle in her arms screamed in protest, but giving up wasn't an option. Not now, not ever.

"Faster, Dash! You're slower than a snail in molasses!"

Molasses. Rainbow snorted internally. She could outrun molasses in her sleep. She could outrun anything in her sleep. Out loud, she just grunted, focusing on the burning in her biceps, the sting of sweat in her eyes. This was nothing. She could handle this. She had to.

"Look at Dash over there, practically vibrating with effort," a voice whispered near her. Rainbow recognized it as Soarin, another recruit from her unit. He wasn't bad, for a guy who preferred ground-based activities.

"She's gonna pop a blood vessel if she keeps that up," another recruit, Lightning Dust, added with a snicker. Rainbow felt a surge of irritation. Lightning Dust was fast, almost as fast as she was, but she had a mean streak a mile wide and an ego to match.

Rainbow ignored them both, focusing on Spitfire's commands. Ever since she was a kid, all she'd ever wanted was to fly. Real flying, not the pathetic imitation humans called "aviation." She wanted to feel the wind whipping through her hair, the sun on her face, the pure, unadulterated freedom of soaring through the open sky. When she'd heard about the Interdimensional Defense Force, about the possibility of other worlds, of magic, she'd signed up faster than a sonic rainboom.

Magic meant wings. She just knew it.

But first, she had to get through basic training. And Sergeant Spitfire seemed determined to make that as painful as possible.

"On your feet, maggot!" Spitfire barked, finally relenting. "And give me twenty laps around the obstacle course! Double time!"

Rainbow scrambled to her feet, ignoring the protests from her aching limbs. Twenty laps. Piece of cake. She'd show Spitfire what she was made of. She'd show them all.

She took off like a shot, weaving through the tire hurdles, scaling the climbing wall, crawling under the barbed wire with practiced ease. The other recruits struggled to keep up, their faces contorted in exhaustion. Not Rainbow Dash. This was what she was born for. Speed. Agility. Pushing herself to the limit.

"Show off," Lightning Dust muttered as Rainbow lapped her for the second time.

"Leave her alone, Dust," Soarin said, panting as he ran. "She's just... enthusiastic."

"Enthusiastic to get out of here and leave us all in the dust," Lightning Dust retorted. "You watch. The minute she gets what she wants, she's gone."

Rainbow ignored them, focusing on her pace, her breathing. She glanced at the sky as she ran, a clear, crisp autumn blue. So close, yet so far. She imagined soaring through those clouds, leaving the earthbound humans far below. Soon. Soon she'd be more than just a recruit. Soon she'd be flying.

"Dash! What in the sam hill do you think you're doing?" Spitfire's voice cut through her thoughts like a sonic boom. Rainbow skidded to a halt, her heart pounding. She'd lost count of the laps, caught up in her daydream. Bad move.

Spitfire stalked towards her, her face a mask of thunder. "Did I give you permission to stop, recruit?"

"No, Sergeant," Rainbow muttered, bracing herself for the inevitable punishment.

"Then why in the blue blazes are you standing there like a statue? Get moving! And this time, count your laps! If you lose count again, you'll be running until sunrise!"

Rainbow didn't need telling twice. She took off again, this time keeping a careful count. One. Two. Three. Each lap was a step closer to her goal, to the sky, to the magic that waited on the other side of the portal.

"She's gonna be insufferable if she actually gets to fly," Lightning Dust commented as Rainbow zoomed past again.

"Maybe," Soarin admitted, "but you gotta admit, she's got drive. I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of whatever's on the other side of that portal if she's leading the charge."

Rainbow felt a surge of pride, even though she knew she shouldn't let their words get to her. She pushed through the burning in her lungs, the ache in her muscles, the exhaustion that threatened to pull her down. She wouldn't quit. She couldn't. This was more than just a dream. It was her destiny.

As she finished her final lap, collapsing onto the grass in a heap, she saw a flicker of something in Spitfire's eyes. Not approval, exactly. But something close to respect.

"Not bad, Dash," Spitfire grunted. "For a rookie."

Rainbow grinned, a flash of her usual cocky confidence returning. "Just wait 'til I get my wings, Sergeant. You'll see what real speed looks like."

Spitfire smirked. "Keep dreaming, recruit. You've got a long way to go before you're ready for anything other than push-ups." She turned to address the rest of the recruits, her voice booming again. "Alright, maggots! Next exercise! We're going to work on your aim. Not all threats come from the ground, you know."

As the recruits moved towards the firing range, Soarin jogged alongside Rainbow. "You really think there's magic on the other side?"

Rainbow looked at him, surprised. "You don't?"

Soarin shrugged. "I don't know. It's a lot to take in. Other dimensions, magic... I joined the IDF because I wanted to do something meaningful. Protect people. But this..."

"This is our chance to be something more," Rainbow said, her eyes fixed on the sky. "To do something no one's ever done before. To fly, Soarin. Really fly."

Lightning Dust, overhearing them, scoffed. "You're both delusional. There's nothing on the other side but more dirt and more people to boss around. And if there is magic, it'll be just another weapon. Another way to control people."

Rainbow frowned. She couldn't understand Lightning Dust's cynicism. Why join the IDF if you didn't believe in the possibility of something more?

"You're wrong," Rainbow said, her voice firm. "There's more out there than just power and control. There's wonder. There's adventure. There's..."

She trailed off, unable to find the right words. But she knew it in her heart. The portal wasn't just a gateway to another world. It was a gateway to a different kind of life. A life where she could finally be free.

As they reached the firing range, Rainbow picked up her rifle, her gaze drawn once again to the sky. The sun was beginning to set, painting the clouds in hues of orange and pink. A beautiful sight, but nothing compared to what she imagined waiting on the other side.

"Alright, listen up!" Spitfire's voice cut through the air. "Today, we're working on moving targets. Imagine those targets are flying creatures. Fast. Agile. Dangerous. You need to be faster. You need to be sharper. You need to be—"

"Ready for anything," Rainbow finished under her breath, a determined glint in her eyes.

She raised her rifle, took aim, and fired. The shot echoed through the training ground, a small sound in the vastness of the world. But for Rainbow Dash, it was the sound of a promise. A promise of wings. A promise of flight. A promise of a future she was determined to claim.

Author's Note

Sorry it took so long, honestly had no idea what to write, im not sure if the next chapter will be another Interlude or get back to Sunset but I feel as Rainbow and Twilight are likely going to the most important for future building