The crystal ball flickered with a swirling haze of magic, shifting between distorted images of a ragtag group of ponies making their way through his castle.

Discord leaned forward, his mismatched arms resting lazily on the edge of the ornate stand that held the ball. His sharp, snaggletoothed grin stretched wider as he watched Ava Carter. The imposter. The little human masquerading in a pony’s skin.

“Look at them,” he mused, his voice dripping with amusement. “So determined. So hopeful. So…” He trailed off, watching as Ava and her friends stumbled toward the grand chamber he had so lovingly defiled with polka dots and balloon animals.

A chuckle bubbled up in his throat, then a full-bodied laugh as he threw his head back, snapping his fingers. The crystal ball zoomed in on Ava’s face—her ever-skeptical eyes darting about the castle halls, her mind undoubtedly racing with plans. Oh, she was trying so hard to play the hero, wasn't she?

“A human playing knight in shining armor,” he sneered, circling the ball like a vulture. “Oh, what delicious irony! A creature from a world of concrete and logic, trying to save a land of dreams and madness. What a joke!”

Another bout of laughter escaped him, a rich, theatrical sound that echoed through the empty chamber. He danced back from the ball, twirling on his mismatched feet before snapping his claws. The floor beneath him turned into a checkerboard, shifting and twisting like a funhouse mirror.

But as he spun, another voice slithered into the room, smooth and familiar.

“Oh, I don’t know,” it mused. “It is rather unusual, isn’t it?”

Discord froze mid-spin, his bushy white eyebrows arching as his golden eyes flicked toward the new presence.

A second Discord stood there, lounging on a throne that hadn’t been there a moment ago. He was identical in every way, down to the curl of his snaggletooth and the flick of his serpent-like tail. But unlike the real Discord, this one wasn’t laughing. He was watching. Studying.

Discord scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, wonderful. Me again. I really must stop thinking so much, or I’ll keep making copies of myself.” He waved his talon dismissively. “Alright, what is it this time? Come to tell me how brilliant I am? How utterly, undeniably fabulous my work has been?”

The copy’s gaze didn’t waver. Instead, he leaned forward, tapping his claws against the armrest of his throne. “You mock them, and yet you watch them,” he said smoothly. “That little human—”

“Human,” Discord interrupted, waggling his fingers mockingly. “Such a dull, dreary little word, don’t you think? I much prefer ‘chaotic inconvenience.’”

The copy ignored him. “Her presence in Equestria is unnatural,” he continued, his voice steady. “And unnatural things tend to… disrupt.”

Discord’s tail flicked, his amusement waning slightly. “Oh, please,” he scoffed. “You think one little human-pony hybrid is enough to bring about my downfall? Don’t be ridiculous.”

The copy tilted his head. “That’s just it,” he said, his grin widening. “We are ridiculous. And yet, here I am—you are—having this conversation.”

Discord frowned, the air around him growing heavier. His usual lighthearted mischief wavered for just a moment. A moment too long.

The copy saw it. And oh, how he grinned.

“You feel it, don’t you?” the copy purred. “Something is different. Something about her.”

Discord let out a sharp snap, and the copy vanished in a puff of pink smoke, his smug smile the last thing to disappear.

Silence fell over the chamber.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Discord’s grin faltered. Just a fraction.

Then he shook his head, rolling his eyes dramatically as he stretched out his limbs. “Oh, how dreary,” he muttered, his usual humor slipping back into place like a well-worn mask. He gave the crystal ball one last glance, watching as the ponies hesitated outside the clown room.

“Unnatural,” he echoed to himself, chuckling as he stepped away. “Please. I am the unnatural one here.”

With a snap of his fingers, he vanished, leaving only a faint trace of laughter behind.

The moment we stepped into the room, I knew we had made a mistake.

This wasn’t just any chamber—it was an entire landscape. A massive, rolling field stretched out before us, covered in garish, oversized polka dots in every clashing color imaginable. The hills weren’t just soft curves of land but exaggerated, rounded mounds that felt wrong—like they were deliberately bent in ways that didn’t make sense.

And above us, instead of a normal ceiling, there was a sky. A fake sky. Painted in swirling blues, greens, and yellows, with fluffy clouds that occasionally popped like balloons.

But the worst part? The sun.

It wasn’t the real sun, of course. But it moved like one. A massive, grinning, cartoonish orb with a face that stretched just a little too wide. Its eyes were round and black, staring down at us with eerie, unblinking amusement. As if we were nothing more than a game to it.

"Okay," Lyra muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "This is officially the worst room I’ve ever been in."

I couldn’t argue.

Even Moondancer, who was usually the picture of analytical calm, looked unsettled. "Spatial distortion magic," she murmured, adjusting her glasses as she scanned the endless hills. "This place is bigger on the inside than it should be."

"Gee, you think?" I shot back, shuddering as the grinning sun let out a slow, breathy haaaaaaa like it was laughing at a joke only it understood.

But then Twilight’s breath hitched beside me.

"There," she whispered, pointing ahead with a trembling hoof.

We all followed her gaze.

Atop the highest hill, bathed in the eerie light of the grinning sun, stood a massive cage.

Inside it… was Princess Celestia.

Even from here, I could see her slumped form, her pristine white coat dulled with exhaustion, her usually flowing mane hanging limply against her sides. The golden bars of the cage shimmered under the unnatural sunlight, casting warped shadows across her still body.

Twilight didn’t hesitate.

"Princess Celestia!" she cried, her voice breaking as she bolted toward the hill.

"Twilight, wait—!" I shouted, reaching for her tail, but she was already gone, her hooves kicking up tiny clouds of polka-dotted dust as she sprinted toward the cage.

"Oh, for the love of—!" Lyra groaned, facehoofing.

I barely had time to exchange a panicked glance with Moondancer before we all took off after her.

And as we ran, the fake sun above us let out another breathy haaaaaaa, its grin stretching even wider.

The climb up the polka-dotted hill felt like trudging through syrup. The terrain beneath my hooves shifted unnaturally, like the ground itself was toying with us. Twilight didn’t seem to care. She charged ahead, her breaths ragged, eyes locked on the figure trapped in the golden cage.

Princess Celestia.

Even in my hazy memories of the show, I had never seen her like this.

Gone was the proud, regal ruler of Equestria. Gone was the warm, unwavering presence that stood as a pillar of strength for ponies everywhere. Instead, what sat slumped in that cage was a shell of her former self.

Her mane—once a cascading flow of ethereal rainbow light—was now a dull, faded pink, limp and tangled as it draped lifelessly over her back. Her golden regalia was missing, leaving her bare and vulnerable in a way that felt wrong.

And she was whimpering.

Not crying softly, not muttering in distress—full-body trembling, whimpering like a wounded animal. Her breath hitched with every exhale, her face pressed into the cold metal bars of her cage as if they were the only thing keeping her upright.

"Princess Celestia!" Twilight’s voice cracked with emotion as she rushed forward, practically throwing herself at the bars. "It’s me! It’s Twilight!"

Celestia flinched at first, like a startled deer. Then, slowly, her head lifted.

Her sunken, tired eyes locked onto Twilight’s face, and for the briefest moment, something almost like recognition flickered within them.

"Twilight?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if the name itself was foreign to her.

Twilight’s relief was instant, her whole body sagging as she pressed herself closer. "Yes! Yes, it’s me! We’re here to save you!"

Celestia’s lips trembled, her breath stuttering. Then, with sudden desperation, she threw herself against the bars, her hooves reaching out as best they could. "Twilight! You came for me!"

A lump formed in my throat at the sheer joy in her voice.

Twilight lifted a hoof, as if trying to touch her through the bars. "Of course I did! What happened to you? How did—"

Then she froze.

And I saw why.

Celestia’s wings weren’t just missing.

They had been ripped away.

The once-proud limbs that had carried her through the skies, that had graced Equestria with their presence for centuries, were gone. Not neatly removed, not vanished like some kind of spell—torn from her back, leaving behind jagged scars where feathers and flesh had been savagely taken.

And her horn? Nowhere to be seen.

Twilight’s pupils shrank, her breath catching in her throat. "What—what happened to you?"

Celestia blinked at her, as if confused by the question. Then she smiled—a weak, shaky, far-too-bright smile.

"Discord took them," she said simply, her voice eerily light, like she was commenting on the weather. "He took them so I would stop fighting back."

I felt something in my stomach lurch.

There was something wrong with the way she was speaking. This wasn’t just trauma. This wasn’t just exhaustion.

This was a broken pony.

Twilight, still frozen in horror, could only whisper, "Princess…"

And I, standing just behind her, could only watch. Because something deep in my gut told me this wasn’t right.

That this Celestia was wrong.

My skin—er, fur—was crawling.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Celestia’s words, her smile, the way she pressed herself against the bars with this… unnatural eagerness—it wasn’t right. She was too excited to see Twilight, too quick to answer, too eager to gloss over the absolute nightmare that had been done to her.

My gut screamed at me, and I had learned to trust it.

I took a slow step forward, ignoring the way Twilight was still reeling from what she’d seen. My eyes locked onto Celestia’s, studying her carefully.

Then I smirked.

"Hey, Princess," I said casually, tilting my head. "Quick question. Was Twilight ever late to class?"

Twilight, still emotionally spiraling, barely registered the question at first. But Moondancer and Lyra snapped their heads toward me, their ears flicking in confusion.

Celestia, however, immediately brightened.

"Oh, no!" she said cheerfully, sitting up straighter. "Twilight Sparkle has always been my most punctual and dedicated student! She never missed a class, never arrived late, and never lost focus!"

Twilight, despite her lingering horror, blinked and instinctively nodded. "That’s… true," she muttered, rubbing at her face with a hoof. "I’ve always prided myself on being on time. I—"

Then she stopped.

Her breath hitched. Her eyes widened, darting toward me in realization.

I grinned wider, stepping back. "Yeah. That would be true, if I hadn’t controlled your body that one time and showed up to class TWO whole hours late."

The room fell into a tense, heavy silence.

Moondancer sucked in a sharp breath. Lyra mouthed a slow oh shit.

And Twilight, finally catching on completely, reeled. "Wait. Wait. Oh my Celestia—you’re right!"

Celestia’s face—no, not Celestia—froze.

Her too-wide smile remained fixed, but the rest of her features twitched—just slightly, just barely enough for me to see it.

"You’re not Celestia," I announced, my smirk fading into a hard glare. "The real Celestia would definitely remember that."

I took another step back, my hooves scraping against the warped, hilly floor. "Girls," I said firmly, "back up. Now."

Twilight stumbled backward almost instinctively, her whole body stiff with realization. Moondancer and Lyra followed suit, their expressions shifting from concern to fear.

The thing in the cage tilted its head. The motion was stiff—wrong, like a puppet being yanked on its strings.

And then, very, very slowly…

The grin stretched.

Wider.

And wider.

And wider.

A slow, eerie chuckle bubbled up from its throat, and when it spoke next, its voice had changed.

"Oh," it purred, "you are clever, aren’t you?"

My breath caught in my throat.

The fake Celestia’s head twitched to the side, and with a sickening crack, her entire body convulsed—her legs bending wrong, her neck twisting in a way that made my stomach churn.

Then, with a horrific, echoing snap—

The cage vanished.

And whatever was inside it wasn’t Celestia anymore.

A spider. A massive, hulking spider with a pony’s head.

Its many glossy black legs twitched, each one razor-sharp and twice as long as any of us. Its grotesque, bulbous body pulsed with unnatural movement, and from its back, fleshy remnants of wings twitched—not like they were moving, but like something inside them wanted to.

And then… it hissed.

The sound wasn’t a normal hiss. It was deep and layered, like something had taken the sound of a regular pony breathing and warped it into a broken, insect-like screech. Its sharp pony teeth gnashed together, its sunken eyes gleaming with intelligence.

This thing wasn’t just a monster. It knew us.

“OH HELL NO—” I barely had time to yell before it lunged.

Twilight screamed as one of its massive legs came crashing down where she had been standing just a second ago. The floor cracked beneath the impact, sending splinters of polka-dotted debris into the air.

“MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!” I shouted, shoving Lyra and Moondancer back before grabbing Twilight and hauling her to her hooves.

The creature let out another chittering screech and struck again. I barely managed to shove us out of the way before one of its needle-like legs pierced the ground where my head had just been.

Twilight, panting heavily, turned to me. “We can’t fight that thing—”

“We don’t have a choice!” I yelled back, dodging another strike. “We gotta do something!”

The creature reared back, its pony head twisting unnaturally as its many legs spread wide. It was blocking the only exit.

Which meant we had to take it down.

I clenched my jaw. “Girls—grab something and throw it!”

Lyra, Moondancer, and Twilight barely hesitated. We all scattered across the twisted terrain, grabbing whatever we could—discarded furniture, broken balloons, even a whole-ass clown-shaped statue—and hurling it at the spider.

A chair crashed against its side, making it stumble. Moondancer lobbed a chunk of polka-dotted debris straight into its creepy pony face, making it shriek in fury. Twilight, despite having no horn, launched an entire bookshelf with her hooves.

It wasn’t enough.

The monster let out a deafening, unholy screech and lunged forward, this time aiming directly for me.

I barely had time to react before a blinding flash of blue light exploded across the room.

The monster screeched in agony, its spindly legs flailing as it was repelled backward by an unseen force.

The light dimmed.

And standing at the center of it…

Was her.

Princess Luna.

Not the monstrous, shadowy figure she had once been. Not Nightmare Moon. Not the ethereal ruler that Celestia had once overshadowed.

But Luna.

She was taller now—graceful, powerful—but still had the short, deep blue mane of her younger form. Her eyes, however, burned with an intensity that made my breath catch.

Luna narrowed her gaze at the spider-creature and lifted her head.

“You shall harm them no longer, vile beast!” she boomed, her voice like rolling thunder.

The creature screeched, reeling from the magic still burning across its grotesque body.

Luna’s horn flared with energy.

With a single, fluid movement, she unleashed a wave of magic. The blast ripped through the air, colliding with the spider and sending it crashing through the walls of the madhouse.

I stared, my heart pounding as the dust settled.

Luna—Princess freaking Luna—had just saved our asses.

And as she turned her gaze toward me, her piercing blue eyes locking onto mine…

I could only stare in awe.

Luna landed gracefully, the residual glow of her magic still lingering in the air like the fading embers of a firework. Her wings tucked neatly against her sides as she exhaled, steady but controlled. She was tired, that much was clear, but her composure was unwavering—because, of course, it was.

She was Princess Luna.

And holy shit, I was standing in front of her.

I trotted around her, practically vibrating with excitement, taking in every inch of her presence. She was taller than I remembered, but still smaller than Celestia had been. Her short blue mane had a soft shimmer to it, no longer the wispy mess it was when she had first returned to Equestria. And that posture— the effortless grace of a battle-worn warrior who still carried herself like royalty.

"Wow, okay, you are so much cooler in person," I blurted, my hooves practically skipping against the warped polka-dotted ground. "Like, I knew you were badass, but seeing you actually obliterate that nightmare fuel spider thing?? Ten out of ten. Would watch again."

Luna blinked at me, tilting her head slightly. Then, much to my surprise, she smiled.

"It is most wonderful to see thee again, Ava," she said, her voice carrying that same regal authority, but with an unmistakable warmth beneath it. "I had faith that thou would endure, even beyond the limits of one’s own world."

I stopped, my excitement faltering slightly. She… believed I would survive? Even after everything?

I cleared my throat, rubbing the back of my head. "Well, uh, yeah. I mean, I had some help." I glanced toward Twilight, Lyra, and Moondancer. "Would’ve been super dead without them."

Luna nodded, turning her gaze to my friends. "And still, thou hast returned, knowing full well the dangers that lurk within our world. Equestria owes thee a great debt, for thou art not merely a visitor. Thou art a protector."

I don’t know why, but those words hit hard.

I opened my mouth to say something—**anything—**but Twilight stepped forward, her voice trembling with urgency.

"Princess Luna," she said, barely holding herself together, "where is Princess Celestia?"

Luna’s expression shifted, her body stiffening slightly. I didn’t like that. Not one bit.

Luna hesitated for only a moment, but that hesitation was loud.

Then, slowly, she looked away.

"My sister commanded me to flee," she admitted, her voice quieter than before. "After the Elements of Harmony failed, she gave me no choice. She saw that Discord’s chaos had overrun our kingdom, that I alone could remain beyond his reach. For the realm of dreams is one he cannot claim."

Twilight took a shaky breath. "You mean… you don’t know where she is?"

Luna closed her eyes. "Nay. I have not seen my sister since that day."

A heavy silence settled over us.

Lyra, who had been oddly quiet, suddenly bowed her head, pressing a hoof over her chest. "Then we will find her," she said, her voice steady and full of conviction. "We will put an end to Discord’s rule, once and for all."

Moondancer gave a firm nod, stepping beside her. "And if the Elements don’t work the way they used to, then we’ll find another way. There’s always an answer. Always."

Luna gazed at them, eyes flickering with something… unreadable. Maybe regret. Maybe admiration. Maybe both.

She sighed. "Discord’s reign has grown far more twisted than I could have foreseen." She glanced toward the broken remnants of the nightmare spider. "That beast was but one of many—a failed attempt to harness my power. A mockery of what I once was. It was an abomination, crafted in imitation of my magic. A creature born not of dreams, but of madness. He seeks to twist my realm into something he may control, but such power will never be his."

"Good," I muttered, still glaring at the scattered remains of the creature. "Because I really don’t wanna see whatever else he’s cooked up."

Luna’s gaze sharpened. "Then thou must prepare, for there shall be more."

I clenched my jaw. "Yeah. I figured."

Luna stepped forward, her presence alone seeming to steady the room. "Tell me, Ava," she said, her tone softer now, "hast thou returned with knowledge that may aid us in this war?"

I swallowed.

Did I?

My memories of the show were already slipping, details blurring together. I had known so much before, but now?

I wasn’t sure.

But one thing I did know?

I was here.

And I wasn’t leaving until we won.

“Oh, now this is getting interesting.”

Discord lounged lazily across a floating patchwork couch, one leg draped over the armrest while the other swung idly in the air. His eagle claw swirled in a glass of chocolate milk—though the liquid didn’t quite follow gravity, lazily sloshing upward rather than down.

Before him, the swirling crystal orb projected an image of her.

Princess Luna.

Finally, she had entered the game.

He smirked, watching the way her presence steadied the little band of rebels. The way Twilight and her friends rallied in her presence. The way that human—oh yes, he hadn’t forgotten about her—stood there with that same ridiculous fire in her eyes.

The moment the spider fell, the moment Luna appeared, the tides of the game had shifted.

Oh, the stakes had certainly risen.

And so, too, would the losses.

Discord chuckled, swirling the milk a little faster. “Well, well, well. Welcome to the board, dear Luna. You always were a bit late to the party.” He tossed the glass over his shoulder, where it yelped before exploding into a dozen rubber ducks.

“Are you sure?”

The words slithered through the room like a whisper that had teeth.

Discord’s smirk twitched.

He didn’t have to turn his head. He already knew what he’d see.

A second Discord, draped across a throne that hadn’t been there a moment ago, idly flicking at his own claws with disinterest. His eyes half-lidded, unimpressed.

“Oh, not you again,” Discord groaned, dramatically flopping backward onto his couch. “Really, must I keep manifesting these little existential nuisances?”

The other him didn’t move, but his smirk widened ever so slightly. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. That’s my job.”

Discord waved a paw through the air. The second him promptly exploded into confetti.

“Predictable.”

The voice was behind him now.

Discord let out an exaggerated sigh, rubbing his temples. “You do realize that you’re incredibly annoying, yes?”

His double chuckled, now appearing as a floating head, spinning idly in the air. “Oh, come now. Surely you’ve noticed the pattern.” His eyes glowed briefly, flickering like a candle. “Villains never win.”

Discord’s claws twitched.

The head grinned wider. “Oh, you play the game so well. Toying with them, shifting the board, throwing in those delightful little surprises—but in the end?” The head rotated upside down, eyes boring into him. “You lose.”

Discord huffed, crossing his arms. “Oh, please. You think I haven’t prepared for that?” He lazily snapped his fingers, conjuring a puppet version of Twilight and Ava, their little wooden limbs flailing as they dangled from invisible strings. “This isn’t some storybook. This is my story. My game. And I don’t plan on losing.”

The head just laughed. A deep, knowing laugh.

“You always think that,” it mused.

Discord’s expression darkened, his tail flicking sharply. He snapped his fingers again—this time, the head burst into mist, fading into the air.

But the laughter remained.

Echoing. Lingering.

Discord stood in the now-silent chamber, the crystal orb flickering idly before him. The vision of Ava and the others was still there—Luna standing tall, Twilight looking determined, Ava still running forward despite knowing nothing about what truly awaited her.

He stared at the scene for a long moment.

Then, with a flick of his claw, he dismissed it.

For the first time in a while, he was left alone with his thoughts.

And for the first time in even longer…

He began to wonder.

Author's Note

It has been quite a while! I am sorry if I scared any of you into thinking I was going to quit on this story! lots has been happening lately and I just now find the time to finish this chapter!

Please, be understanding of my lack of presence lately, and thank you for those willing to stick around!

Please make sure to comment and dont be shy to leave a critic on this chapter!

See yall!