Author's Note

I wont lie, when I started this I didn't know what path I wanted it to take. I didn't know what stakes I wanted in this story, Is it just a normal romance? could it be a little more exploring on the world and the growing relationship? Could I give it a villain, a reason that the world is shite? Could that ruin this story, maybe, but i like a big villain. It helps drive the plot along I think it nice to have some one to blame for things if just a little.

It also gives me a reason for all these ponies that for so long have gone their own way, a kick in the but to realize that they cant just sit on the side lines anymore. the next chapter will go back to our rag tag group of gods, what they plan to do, and how Chrysalis and Cadence will handle whats coming.

also, for those that have read some of my other stuff, Royal Scroll is an oc that shows up a lot, usually as a good guy, that is because he is my oc, he is me, and when I wrote Bankrupt love he was kinds just a place holder, sadly not anymore. So I guess I am my own villain, who could have thunk. Anyways enjoy the read, let me know if i have ruined this for anypony, and have a great day.

Project Divinitas (2.5)

Bankrupt Love

Chapter 2.5: Project Divinitas

Royal Scroll

This entire city was going to burn; hell, this entire world had to burn after he came to power; it was made of ignorant, intolerable, stupid creatures. They went on doing nothing day to day but feeding the endless machine that was Equestria; they were all too simple; they didn’t see the bigger picture; no pony did, not even his fellow councilors. He did, though; he saw the truth; he KNEW the truth about the magic that they ruled over, about the world they lived in.

He made his way down a long hallway; it was in a mix of brutalist and minimalist architecture, white fluorescent light shone down from the high ceiling, reflecting off a floor so clean it looked like a mirror image. Royal Scroll walked alone, yet every so often he would pass a dip in the wall where a security guard was stationed. They were, of course, privately owned; he could use the council guard for this. No, they wouldn't understand what needed to be done.

He made a turn when he reached one end of a hallway and started down another, following it to the end. It was a maze of hallways to anyone that didn’t know the layout of the building basement, something that was designed on purpose, for if anyone found what was here, the plan of 10 generations was doomed.

All too soon, Royal Scroll came to a stop at a large metal door; it was heavily reinforced, and nothing but a spell powered by an alicorn could get through it. He didn’t need an alicorn to get through; however, he approached a panel that was on the wall, bringing his hoof to the number pad. With a steady motion that came from memory, he punched in the password and then waited.

The door opened quickly for its size, making very little noise as it did so. Scroll smiled as he stepped through, letting it close behind him. The lights in the room came to life, bringing the once pitch-black room into focus; computers and arcane engines both came into view. Royal Scroll made his way deeper into the lab; this was his family's magnum opus, the project that would remake the world as they wanted.

Long ago, alicorns ruled this world; they controlled all: the ponies, the weather, and the very heavens themselves. They were gods among mortals, but they were too stupid to do anything with it. The very first version of the council saw this; they took control. They saw what the world could really be; they pushed the pony race forward, reaching ever greater heights of power and magical science, to free themselves from the ever stagnant alicorn rule.

Oh, how they grew! They grew and grew; they didn’t need those old gods; they were outdated, but sadly they weren’t irrelevant, no. They just had to have the one thing that the mortal ponies couldn’t have; they would always need them for one reason: to control the heavens, for without them they wouldn't have the day, or the night, or stars. No matter how far pony kind progressed, they would always have to rely on those higher than them, whether they knew they did or not.

They went into hiding centuries ago; by the records of the old council, they just gave up what powers they could and faded into the background, keeping up only the most important duties. Royal Scroll knew, though; he knew that no pony could just give up the kind of power they had forever; they would wait, buying their time until the ponies would crawl back to the old way.

He would not be crawling back; however, he saw what every creature didn’t: he saw what they could achieve with just mortal hooves alone, and this project was the peak of that drive. Royal Scroll scanned the room, making sure that all of the equipment was functioning properly; even if one piece was out of place, the whole operation could come crumbling down. When one operated in the realm of divinity, there was no room for error.

It was only after he was satisfied with what he saw that he moved into the center of the room; here is where the magic happened, where ponies would finally earn the freedom from those who had loomed over them for eons. Five large vats sat arranged in a circle, each one sitting at the point of the pentagram that was carved into the floor of the room. Two of the vats were filled; machines beeped and buzzed, taking in information that no mortal mind could comprehend.

Arcane batteries hummed with power as they drew from a source that would never run out; at the end of the day, they would be drained of that energy, used to cast a complex spell that would come twice a day, for all time, and that was just that one spell. He had grander plans, but for that he needed more power, and for more power he needed the other alicorns. History had recorded that five were in existence; he just needed to find them.

The oldest of the five, he took with ease; they fell into his trap just like he thought they would, for all the age they held, gods could be such simple creatures, especially when they had morals. Spread a few rumors, find a few lost artifacts that could be a danger to the modern world, and they would poke their little heads out of hiding just long enough to clean up the mess of their own creation; the problem with living for so long is that there was always a mess to clean up.

The hard part was capturing them; they were, after all, gods, even if they themselves didn’t think that they were. You couldn’t just throw them into a cell and hope that they would stay; they had to be contained in a way that no pony ever had. His great-great-great-great-grandfather started this project; his son vowed to finish it. They both died before they could see the fruits of their labor.

This was his family's hidden legacy, buried deep in the mountain of old Canterlot, just below the mansion that once housed the greatest noble family in Equestria, the crest of which was displayed on the furthest wall, a yellow four-sided star overlaid with a blue one forming a compass shape, each star end pointing to a different pony's portrait, the largest being the very top one, the oldest known founding member of the house, Prince Blueblood. The family motto was under that, all written in old unicornian magicea, invebimus potestatem.

It was here and now that the saying gained its full meaning; Royal Scroll looked over at the two full vats, in which sat the ruler of the sun and the ruler of the moon, or former rulers at least. A monitor beeped, text flowing at an impossible-to-read rate as the once docile machinery around the room sprang to life. Royal Scroll removed an old pocket watch from inside his cloak, checking the time, 0700, on the dot. It was sunrise.

He watched as he put the watch up, as the complex systems of computers and arcane batteries did what before was thought impossible for anyone but the two in front of him and raised the sun while lowering the moon. It was done with a level of efficiency that could only be gotten through technology; the age of the alicorn was truly over; now all he had to do now was tie up loose ends.

The room died down as the magic formula was finished, and the regeneration process of the lost magic began. Bubbles filled the vats as the wires that covered the two sleeping ex-gods dragged the power out of them forcefully, refilling the now empty arcane batteries. It was a slow process for now. Once he had the others, it would only get faster, and with more power came more opportunities. It was when the bubbles filled the tank and covered those inside that Royal Scroll saw himself, and his family's greatest shame, the one reason he himself didn’t carry the Blueblood name; the reflection that stared back at him was that of an earth pony.

He felt anger; damn his mother and her worthless genes. While it mattered little for the nobility of today, it was a black mark on him and his house. To not be born a unicorn might have well been a death sentence; he had made up for it; he had outworked his sibling tenfold, and when his father needed a successor, he was the only option. It was to his irritation that it was only thanks to an old world item that it was possible.

Royal Scroll made his way over to an arcane battery in the corner of the room. Separated from the others, he reached his hoof up to the clasp of his cloak, removing the gem that was housed in it. His family had taken it from the royal vaults after the council had seized power, convinced that only they could keep it safe. They did in fact keep it safe while using it for their benefit. Royal Scroll placed the gem into the battery; it took in the latent power, adding it to its own.

It didn’t take long before he was placed back in the slot; Royal Scroll felt the all-too-familiar rush of power; he breathed in, doing his best to contain the feeling. It was impossible to describe the feeling, the rush, the power. He breathed out a red glowing vapor of magic coming out with his breath as he did so. He had the power, the magic that for so long was out of mortal hooves; it was all his. He cleaned his mind; no, there were still others.

He had to focus; the other alicorns were still out there, plotting. He had to strike first, or all this planning would be for nothing. He had drawn out Celestia and Luna with secrets that didn’t need this world knowing; their long past made it more than easy to find something that would have them like putty in his hooves; the others would be much harder. There had to be something; what would they care about after all these years?

He could lure them in with Celestia and Luna; he had known that they had been looking for them, but that had a bad idea written all over it. He wanted them mad enough to fall into a trap, not to be on a war path; maybe all he had to do was draw them out one at a time. The weakest first, then he had just the ammunition he needed for the old princess of love.

The Crystal Place was still under council preservation; it was high time that the funds be moved to something more important, like a new house or maybe new walls for the council chambers. The current ones were almost 10 years old now; they could use a new look. He would have Twinkle write up a proposal for a new bill; if she did well, maybe he would give her a bonus. She was a good mare, a hard worker. It reminded him of when he was younger; maybe after all was said and done, she would have a place in his new world.

He pictured that for a moment, his mouth growing sour in taste when memories of better times flashed in his head, a white-furred pegasus with large wings and a long, flowing mane. He stomped out of the room, his mood ruined. Of all the times he would think of her, it would have been when he was almost happy. He marched through the basement levels all the way back to the flying carriage that waited outside in the crumbling streets of old Canterlot. The pilot having started the magic engine not long after he boarded, taking him back to the city.

He would drink tonight; he would forget about her, about the broken promises. He was in control now; nothing would change that—not destiny, nor fate, and especially not the so-called gods that walked his streets. He would have them; he would make them his, and then it would be a world where everyone was equal, with him just a little more equal than all others. He had his pilot drop him at the edge of the city; he would walk to a bar that he knew no pony would find him at. He would drink to forget, and by the end of the week, the legacy of an empire would crumble, and he would have a new house guest.