“I need some air” I said.

The words weren’t meant to be anything dramatic. I just needed space, time to breathe, time to be alone.

I grabbed my coat, already making my way to the door when I noticed movement from the corner of my eye. Fluttershy was getting up. Sunset too. And, of course, Pinkie.

All three of them looked at me, ready to follow, as if I had silently asked them to. Like they just assumed I wanted them there.

I raised an eyebrow, stuffing one arm into my coat sleeve. “Uh—don’t wanna be rude, but…” My voice was joking meant to be joking but something in my tone came out off. “I thought I had a relationship like that only with Sunset.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them.

Fluttershy immediately waved her hands, her eyes wide with something close to panic. “Oh, no, no, I—I didn’t—” She shook her head frantically, looking almost horrified. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”

Her face was completely red, like she hadn’t even considered the possibility that she was stepping into something she shouldn’t have. It wasn’t that she wanted to take Sunset’s place. She didn’t even see it that way.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. Great.

Without saying another word, I finished slipping on my coat, pulled on my shoes, and stepped outside.

The cold air hit me instantly, a sharp contrast to the warmth of Applejack’s house. But I didn’t mind. The porch roof kept most of the snow off, and the silence out here felt good.

I let out a slow breath, watching as it curled into the night air, vanishing just as quickly as it appeared.

Then I heard it.

A whining.

What?

I frowned, tilting my head. That wasn’t the wind. That wasn’t some dog outside. That was—

Crying.

I turned toward the house. Who?

I wasn’t even that rude—was I? I had just made a joke.

A joke.

Before I could stop myself, I moved. Silently. Carefully.

If I was gonna eavesdrop, I’d do it right.

I crouched low, gliding across the porch like a damn ninja. Each step was precise. The snow crunched lightly under my feet, but I stayed silent. My body was practically muscle memory, moving on instinct.

Then—

Rotten apples.

My foot slipped. I wobbled, arms flailing for balance, but I caught myself just in time.

I cursed under my breath. Damn it, Applejack.

Shaking off the near disaster, I pressed forward, hugging the wall of the house, making my way to the window. It was AppleJack room

When I got close enough, I lifted my head slowly, keeping low—just enough to peek inside.

Before I could see anything, Applejack’s sharp green eyes landed directly on me.

Shit.

She was sitting on her bed with a serious expression on her face.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then, her lips pressed into a thin line, and she slowly raised her hand—

—and made a quiet, firm gesture for me to stay down.

Her fingers moved, pointing to the window latch.

She was… opening it?

I barely had time to react before I heard the quiet click of the window being unlocked.

The glass shifted, lifting just a crack.

And then I heard her.

Sunset.

Her voice was broken

Not just crying. Pouring her heart out.

Her sobs were quiet but raw, coming in gasping, trembling breaths.

“I—I d-don’t—” A sharp inhale. She sounded like she was fighting for air, like the weight of her own emotions was physically crushing her.

Rarity’s voice was gentle but firm. “Sunset. Breathe. Breathe, darling.”

A shaky exhale. Then another. But it wasn’t helping.

I pressed closer to the wall, every word stabbing into me.

“I just—” Sunset’s voice cracked. “He was supposed to be mine.”

My breath caught in my throat.

Mine.

I couldn’t see her. But I didn’t have to. The weight in her voice, the sheer ache—it was all there.

Rarity was quiet.

There was a pause.

Then, softly—“You know he doesn’t remember, right?”

“I know!” Sunset’s voice rose, only to break on the last syllable. A sob tore through her chest, muffled by what I could only guess was her hands covering her face.

“I know,” she whispered. “But—but he was supposed to be mine.”

A long, shuddering breath.

“I had him. He loved me. And now it’s just—gone.”

Her voice was so small.

So unbelievably small.

I gritted my teeth.

It was one thing to see someone sad.

But this wasn’t just sadness. This was devastation.

A soft rustling sound. Rarity’s voice, quieter now. Careful. “And… Fluttershy?”

Silence.

Then—a choked, heartbroken laugh.

“Oh, that’s the worst part.” Sunset sniffled, her voice raw. “Because I love her. She’s my friend.”

Another sharp inhale. “And she’s not even doing anything wrong. She’s just—she’s just being herself. Being kind.”

Sunset’s voice shook with emotion, cracking at every word. “And every time he looks at her like that, I feel like I’m losing him all over again.”

Her breathing was erratic now, spiraling into panic.

Rarity’s voice cut through the storm, firm yet gentle. “Sunset. Breathe.”

Another gasp. Another sharp inhale.

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay still.

This—this was more than I had expected.

I came out here for air.

And now?

Now I didn’t know what to do.

Were we really together? Was everyone right? Was I just too stubborn to see the truth?

No.

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the familiar, burning boil of magic inside me. It was a force I still barely understood—like a presence, like something alive. It whispered, twisted, begged to be set loose. Couldn’t I use it? Couldn’t I force myself to remember?

Couldn’t I peek past the fog?

No… That was dangerous. Even if it worked, I’d never be able to trust what I saw.

I sighed, dragging a hand down my face. Damn it.

Who would’ve thought? I really lost my memory. It wasn’t just a theory or a lie or some stupid misunderstanding. It was real.

And she was suffering because of it.

Sunset was still crying.

Her voice was hoarse now, raw from all the sobbing. She was trying to talk, but the words barely came out, choking on her own grief.

“I’m here… b-because of him.”

Applejack’s voice was steady. “Sunset, you’re gonna get through this. You’re stronger than you—”

“NO.”

The sheer force in her voice made my blood run cold. That wasn’t just crying anymore. That was despair. That was panic.

There was a shuffling noise, like she had suddenly grabbed Applejack or Rarity, clutching onto them

Then—so quiet that I almost missed it—she whispered,

“I was gonna kill myself.”

My heart stopped.

I felt it. The way everything inside me froze.

“What?” The word left my lips before I could stop it, but Applejack was already asking the same thing inside.

Another shaky inhale from Sunset.

“At the Fall Formal,” she rasped. “I—I wanted to fix what I did. But… once I did that… I—I was gonna—” Her breath hitched. “I was gonna end it.”

No. No, that wasn’t right. That wasn’t Sunset.

Sunset was fire and ambition and stubborn pride. Sunset was unstoppable. Sunset was strong.

But inside that room?

She wasn’t.

She was breaking.

And it was because of me.

Her next words hit even harder.

“B-but then he—” A sharp breath. “He came to me. He helped me. He told me people could forgive, that I wasn’t just a monster”

A broken sob.

“I'm alive because of him.”

A sniffle, and then a whisper, so soft I almost missed it.

“And now he’s gone.”

She didn’t mean literally.

She meant me.

The me that saved her. The me that loved her. The me she trusted.

The me that didn’t exist anymore.

I felt the shift inside me.

A slow, horrifying realization—like something breaking in my chest.

She wasn’t just sad.

She wasn’t just grieving.

She was lost.

I was her compass, her guide, her reason.

And now? Now she was drifting in the dark, completely alone.

I could picture it. The way she must’ve stood on the edge, staring into the abyss, ready to let go—until I pulled her back.

She was alive because of me.

And now, I had ripped myself away from her.

I swallowed, staring down at my hands. My fingers were trembling.

It didn’t matter that I didn’t remember. It didn’t matter that I had lost those memories.

I couldn’t ignore this anymore.

Sunset wasn’t lying. She never was.

I had been so damn stubborn, so suspicious, so cold. I thought it was all a trick, some plan, some manipulation—but no.

She was real.

Her pain was real.

And I was killing her all over again.

I stood up.

The snow crunched under my boots as I rose to my full height, shoulders squared, chest tight with something I couldn’t explain.

I didn’t care how much it hurt. I didn’t care if I was terrified.

Sunset needed me.

And this time, I wouldn’t let her fall.

I would help her rise again.

Even if it cost me everything.

Hell, I had already lost everything. What was one more sacrifice? If there was a price to pay, then I’d pay it.

There was nothing left to lose.

I turned on my heel, my feet slamming against the porch as I stormed toward the house. The cold didn’t matter anymore. The snow under my boots didn’t matter.

Sunset mattered.

And Fluttershy.

I ripped the door open, nearly slamming it against the frame as I moved without thinking—my shoes kicked off in seconds, my coat torn off and thrown to the floor like it meant nothing.

I had to move.

I didn’t care if my chest was tight. I didn’t care if my breathing was shallow. I had to fix this.

I bursted into the living room.

Rainbow was sitting beside Fluttershy on the couch, her arm around her shoulders, whispering something to her. Fluttershy was crying, her soft sobs filling the room, quiet but aching.

Rainbow looked up first.

Her face hardened instantly, and without missing a beat, she shot up her hand, motioning for me to leave. A sharp movement, quick and forceful, as if to shield Fluttershy from even looking at me.

But I wasn’t backing down.

Not this time.

I moved forward, slowly, carefully.

Fluttershy finally noticed me.

Her teary eyes widened, and for a moment—just a moment—she seemed frozen.

Then she cried harder.

I felt something inside me shatter.

I dropped down to my knees, putting myself beneath her, looking up.

"Fluttershy," I said softly.

She sniffled, her lip trembling. “I-I didn’t know,” she stammered. "I didn’t w-want this—”

“Shh.” I cut her off gently. I wasn’t upset. I wasn’t angry. I just wanted her to listen.

I sat down, right there, on the hardwood floor in front of her.

“It’s okay. It came out weird, but you don’t need to feel guilty. It’s not your fault.”

She looked at me, uncertain, shaking. “D-do you—”

“Shh.”

I smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. It was tired.

“This is my fault,” I admitted. “I—I wasn’t thinking. I was caught up in… everything, and I didn’t see what was happening. I didn’t think about how you felt. Or how she felt. I didn’t think about anything but myself.”

Fluttershy shook her head violently. “No! I—I wasn’t trying to—”

“Don’t,” I stopped her. Gently. “Don’t put this on yourself.”

She hesitated.

I took a breath. Then, an idea.

I smirked.

“If you even think about blaming yourself…” I narrowed my eyes. “Then I’ll overfeed all your animals. Every single one. I’ll find that Bunny of yours and give him so many carrots he won’t be able to move for a month.”

Fluttershy blinked.

Then, a laugh.

A small, shaky laugh—but a laugh nonetheless.

Rainbow let out a deep sigh, rubbing her forehead. “Dude, you’re an idiot.”

I smiled. “I know.”

Fluttershy sniffled, wiping her eyes. Then, for the first time since all of this started, I saw something ignite in her gaze.

Something strong.

Something firm.

She swallowed, then whispered, “Go to Applejack’s room.”

I didn’t even have to ask.

“She’s there,” she said “Waiting for you.”

And then, it hit me.

I remembered.

It was quick, sharp, and painful—like a jolt of electricity through my skull.

Sunset.

Her hands shaking.

Her eyes red.

The way she used to look at me.

And the way I used to look at her.

Memories. Not all of them. But pieces—fragments.

Her voice.

Her laugh.

The way she whispered my name when she thought no one was listening.

I stumbled back to my feet.

Fluttershy didn’t say anything else. She didn’t need to.

I turned, moving fast, barely hearing Rainbow’s sigh of relief behind me as I rushed down the hall.

I remembered the way.

Applejack’s room was on the first floor. I had seen it from the outside.

I knew where to go.

I didn’t knock.

I threw the door open.

Rarity’s head snapped up in surprise. Applejack barely reacted—she just smiled.

A knowing smile.

A smile that said, "You finally came."

But I barely saw them.

Because Sunset.

Sunset was in pieces.

She sat on the bed, her arms wrapped so tightly around herself, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders quivering with silent sobs.

She didn’t even notice me.

I didn’t hesitate.

I grabbed her hand.

She gasped—her head snapped up/b]

“Come with me.”

She was too shocked to resist.

I didn’t let go as I pulled her out of the room, through the hallway, past the kitchen—straight to the bathroom.

I shoved the door open and pulled her inside.

Was it the best place to talk about feelings?

Probably not.

But it was the only place we could be alone.

She was staring at me.

Wide-eyed. Shaking. Not understanding.

I let go of her wrist.

I took a deep breath.

And I looked at her.

Really looked at her.

“Sunset.” My voice came out low, rough. “Talk to me.”

She didn’t.

She couldn’t.

Her mouth opened—but nothing came out.

I could see it.

The pain. The fear. The hope—so fragile, like a flame barely flickering against the wind.

She was breaking.

And I was the only one who could fix it.

So I reached for her hands.

And I said "I remember something."

Her breath hitched.

And for the first time in what felt like forever—

She looked at me like I was hers again.

But there was hesitation in her eyes.

She didn’t believe me.

“Why are you… why are you telling me this?”

Her voice was small.

No.

This was someone who had lost hope.

She was trying to keep it together, but I could see the way her hands trembled.

She didn’t think there was anything left to fight for.

I swallowed.

“Sunset… I saw us, not much. Just… simple moments. I remembered them.”

A pause.

I felt like something inside me was breaking—but not in a painful way.

In a way that felt like a door was opening.

She shook her head. “No, you didn’t—”

“I did,” I interrupted softly. “I know I did.”

I took a slow breath, forcing the words out.

“I believe you.”

She flinched.

“I don’t remember everything” I admitted. “I don’t even remember us. But I believe that we—we were—”

She didn’t even let me finish.

She threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around me in a desperate, crushing hug.

I felt her shaking against me. Her fingers gripped the fabric of my hoodie.

I smirked. Instinctively.

I didn’t remember much, but…

“None of the memories I have of you make you look like this much of a crybaby.”

She pulled back just enough to glare at me through teary eyes.

“Shut up,” she grumbled. “Let me have this moment.”

I chuckled but let her cling to me.

I had nothing left to offer.

No promises. No assurances.

Just me—trying, desperately, to be who I used to be.

And for now…

That was enough.

Ten minutes passed.

Ten minutes of silence, of holding her, of feeling the weight of her presence sinking into me like something familiar.

But eventually.

“Alright, that’s enough.”

Sunset groaned against my chest, clutching me tighter like I was a security blanket.

I raised a brow. “You look like I’m taking candy from a baby.”

She grumbled something into my hoodie.

I didn’t hear what it was, but it was probably insulting.

And then, because I had no idea how to comfort a crying girl, I awkwardly reached up… and patted her on the head.

Like a cat.

I didn’t even think about it.

But she purred.

Actually purred.

I bursted out laughing.

Louder than I meant to.

Sunset punched me in the chest.

“Shut up!” she snapped, her face red. “It was instinct!”

But I was still laughing, gripping my stomach, because what the hell was that?

Sunset huffed but didn’t actually pull away. Instead, she just sat down with me next to the edge of the bathtub.

“…Jeez. What the hell have I gotten myself into?”

Sunset smirked. “I ask myself that question every day.”

I rolled my eyes.

Then, after a long pause, she looked down.

“…What do we do now?” she asked quietly.

I exhaled.

“I don’t know. But… there has to be a way for me to remember.”

Sunset immediately straightened.

I turned to her, searching her face.

“…Would you help me find it?”

She nodded.

So fast it was almost instinct.

And just like that…

We started over.

We sat there for over an hour, talking.

She told me everything.

She told me about the Sirens. How I had stood beside her. How I had saved everyone.

She told me about my mother.

Galaxia. An ancient alicorn queen from Equestria. Celestia and luna mentor. A woman who had fled equestria.

A woman who had supposedly fallen in love with my father.

A woman who had brought me into this world.

And a woman who lied her whole entire live to me, who she really was about her sacrifce witch wasn't even needed for me. A piece of shit mother, did really all of this was lie? And that's what discord was gonna tell me? Fuck...

I should have been angry on her

I should have felt betrayed by her

But instead…

It felt like I was hearing a story I had already lived.

Something I already knew.

It was just buried.

Deep.

Eventually, we headed back to the living room.

The girls were sitting together, quiet, waiting.

Fluttershy started to stand up, opening her mouth, but Sunset stopped her with a shake of her head.

“It’s okay,” Sunset said softly. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

Fluttershy hesitated.

Then nodded.

I stood there, awkward.

Not really sure what I was supposed to say.

So we just sat together.

I cleared my throat, looking around at the group.

“I, uh… I think my memory’s coming back,” I admitted.

Their eyes widened.

“But it’s barely anything,” I added quickly. “Like… two percent of it. And most of it is just enough to know that Sunset isn’t a complete asshole.”

Sunset elbowed me.

I smirked.

“All of this is… a lot,” I muttered. “And I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about it.”

The room became quiet.

“…Can we just go to sleep?” I mumbled. “I’m tired.”

Applejack smiled.

The girls all nodded in agreement.

We were gonna sleep in the living room.

Applejack’s room was way too small for all of us to fit, and besides, no one wanted to be apart tonight.

Pinkie, being Pinkie, somehow pulled out a perfectly sized pajama set for me from her bag.

And the girls bursted out laughing.

I raised a brow. “...What’s so funny?”

Applejack smirked. “Nothin’. Just, last time you had a slumber party with us, Pinkie didn’t have a pajama for ya.”

I blinked.

“…Wait, what?”

Rarity chuckled. “Darling, you slept in your regular clothes the entire night. Pinkie felt so guilty about it, she swore she’d always have a backup set for you from then on.”

I stared at the pajama set in my hands.

“…Huh.”

Pinkie beamed. “Backup plan!”

I shook my head with a chuckle, taking the pajamas and heading to the bathroom to change.

When I came back, the girls had already set up the blankets across the floor. Applejack handed me one, and I got comfortable near the couch.

Then Sunset got her blanket and layed right next to me.

Okay. Okay.

Talking to her? Fine.

Believing her? Fine.

Sleeping next to a real, breathing, 3D woman??

Okay. Too much.

I cleared my throat, trying to keep my voice casual. “Uh… okay, Sunset, I know you’re not bad, and I believe you and all that… but just so you know, I’m kinda new to this, and it’s a little… awkward for me to sleep next to a girl.”

Sunset’s face went red instantly.

Oh.

“Oh, Celestia,” she stammered. “Oh, Celestia, I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t even think—It was just instinct, I swear!”

I held back a chuckle as she scramble to pull the blanket between us, creating a small gap.

She peeked up at me.

“…Is this okay?” she asked, looking at me like a puppy waiting for approval.

I couldn’t help it.

I laughed.

“It’s better than nothing,” I said jokingly.

Sunset sighed in relief.

She lay down on her side, facing me, and after a moment, she smiled.

“You don’t even know how happy I am that you believe me”

I looked at her.

Okay, idiot. Say something.

This is your chance.

Something cool. Something smooth.

Something that makes her heart skip a beat.

And said something completely lame.

Sunset laughed.

Across the room, Rainbow Dash snorted.

I narrowed my eyes at her, grabbed my pillow and chucked it at her.

She yelped as it smacked her in the face.

“Ouch!”

She immediately threw it back—hard.

It hit me square in the face.

Sunset bursted out laughing again.

I grumbled, peeling the pillow off. “Was Rainbow always this aggressive?”

Sunset didn’t say anything, but when I looked at her, she was smirking.

And then just barely her lips moved.

“Yes.”

For the first time since I lost my memory, things felt… normal.

Not forced. Not tense. Not uncertain.

Just normal.

I laid back on my pillow, staring at the ceiling, feeling the warmth of Sunset beside me.

She acted so naturally around me.

Like I hadn’t forgotten her.

Like we were still us.

And for the first time, I realized…

Maybe I didn’t have to force myself to remember.

Maybe I could just let it happen.

Sunset shuffled a little, getting comfortable, and when I turned my head, I saw her looking at me again.

A soft look in her eyes.

Like she was memorizing me.

I exhaled slowly.

“I don’t know how long it’ll take,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “But… I want to remember. I want to try.”

Sunset smiled.

“That’s enough for me” she whispered.

A soft scratching sound woke me up.

For a moment, I just lay there, blinking in the dim light, feeling the warmth of the blanket over me. The room was quiet except for the occasional rustle of someone shifting in their sleep.

Then I heard it again.

A quiet, rhythmic scratching.

I turned my head.

Sunset sat up, illuminated by the glow of her journal, a pen moving across the pages.

She was writing.

Her brows were furrowed in concentration, lips slightly pursed as she focused.

Of course, she wasn’t asleep.

I pushed myself up on one elbow. “Sunset… what are you doing?”

She jumped slightly, then quickly turned toward me, pressing the book to her chest like I just caught her sneaking candy past bedtime.

“Oh! Uh… nothing”

I raised an eyebrow. “...That didn’t sound like nothing.”

She hesitated for a second, then exhaled.

“I’m writing to Twilight,” she admitted.

Twilight.

I rubbed my face. Of course she was writing to her.

I sighed, sitting up fully. “Is that the Twilight you were talking about in the bathroom?”

Sunset nodded. “Yeah. Want to take a look?”

She tilted the journal toward me, scooting a little closer so I could read over her shoulder.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but seeing actual words glowing on the page was… weird.

Sunset held her pen for a second, then started writing:

‘He says hi, Twilight.’

I blinked.

“…I didn’t say that.”

Sunset smirked. “Yeah, but it makes things easier.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “That’s slander.”

She giggled but before I could argue, the ink on the page shifted—new letters appeared in glowing violet.

‘Thank Celestia! I’m so relieved to hear he’s starting to remember!’

I stared.

“...That’s actually kind of freaky.”

Sunset nudged me with her shoulder. “You get used to it.”

Hm so far what i've heard from sunset stories, twilights been.. weird. “You think of Twilight as a good friend?”

Sunset didn’t even hesitate.

“Of course,” she said immediately. “She’s always been there for me. I mean… when she had time.”

I caught that hesitation.

It was small, but it was there.

“...What do you mean, when she had time?”

Sunset’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Well, she’s a princess in Equestria. She’s got a lot of responsibilities, and she does her best, but… she’s busy.”

I squinted at her.

Something about that didn’t sit right with me.

“…Can you show me some of her responses?”

“Huh?”

“Like, what she said when you asked her about my memory.”

Sunset hesitated, but after a second, she flipped back through the pages and handed the journal to me.

I skimmed the entries.

Sunset had written to Twilight about fifty times asking how to fix my memory.

Twilight had responded to… maybe six.

And her answers?

‘Discord might know more about this than I do.’

‘The Memory Stone? That doesn’t exist in Equestria. Sorry, Sunset.’

‘I wish I could help more, but I really don’t know.’

That was it.

That was all she had to say after Sunset was begging her for answers?

I slowly looked at Sunset.

“…That’s lame.”

Sunset sighed, rubbing the back of her head. “Twilight’s the Princess of Friendship, she doesn’t have much time for—”

I cut her off.

“The Princess of Friendship doesn’t have much time for friendship?”

Sunset opened her mouth.

Stopped.

Frowned.

“…Okay, when you say it like that, it sounds bad.”

I stared at her.

Sunset fidgeted with her pen.

I could see the mental gymnastics happening in her brain.

I exhaled, flipping the journal closed. “Look, I won’t push it. If I had my memories, I’d probably think of Twilight as a good friend, but right now?”

Sunset looked at me curiously.

I smirked. “Her official name to me is Dumbie.”

Sunset’s mouth fell open. “Wha—Hey!”

Before I could blink, she smacked me in the face with the journal.

“OW—Sunset, what the hell?!”

“We don’t talk about royalty like that!” she hissed, trying not to laugh.

“But I’m royalty, you said I was an ali—OW!”

She smacked me again.

“And we don’t line up as royalty either,” she said matter-of-factly.

I stared at her.

Then we both bursted out laughing.

It was stupid.

It was ridiculous.

And it felt… right.

I finally let my eyes close after the twilight incident.

And then the world around me vanished.

I stood in ruins.

The air was thick with dust and the scent of something long dead. The sky stretched above like cracked glass, its colors shifting between dull orange and ashen gray. The world looked… wrong.

Destroyed.

Before me, a lone figure knelt in the dirt.

He was old—worn. A long beard hung down to his chest, and a tattered cloak draped over his hunched shoulders. He clutched a wooden staff, his grip white-knuckled, his head bowed.

He didn’t acknowledge me.

“…Nothing changed.”

His voice was rough, hollow, like a man who had spent a lifetime watching everything slip through his fingers.

“What?”

His hands clenched tighter. “We’re still here. The world is still dead. The past… still gone.”

I took a step forward, but something about him, about his presence, made my stomach churn. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn’t place it.

Who was he?

“He did nothing.”

The voice wasn’t directed at me.

I turned and nearly jumped back.

Someone else was standing there, just behind me.

A woman, draped in a long, tattered cloak. She had a sharp, mischievous grin, her golden eyes glowing like embers in the dim light.

She smirked. “Oh, come on now. You’re being dramatic.”

The old man didn’t move. “He’s going the same as me. He’s making the same mistakes. He’s not changing anything.”

My stomach twisted.

Who were they talking about?

The woman hummed. “Are you sure about that?”

The old man finally lifted his head slightly. “You tell me.”

She tilted her head, then gestured around us. “Many lives are saved already. Not much, but it’s a start.”

The old man’s grip on his staff loosened. Just slightly.

She grinned wider. “Life exists somewhere on this planet. You are not the only one.”

I didn’t understand any of this.

The old man exhaled, slow and heavy. “So he’s doing a good job.”

The woman shrugged. “Eh, he could be better.” Then, she grinned. “But it’s more than you ever did at his age.”

Something flickered across the old man’s face.

Doubt.

Hesitation.

For a brief moment, I felt like I was seeing someone break through the weight of endless regret.

I took another step forward, my voice hesitant. “If I’m doing good… then why do you still look like you lost?”

The old man finally turned his full gaze toward me.

And then—

His expression softened.

Like he was seeing someone he cared about. Someone important.

A long breath left him, and when he spoke next, his voice was lower, steadier.

“…Because I know how this ends.”

I stiffened.

The woman let out a quiet chuckle. “Oh? You know how this ends?” She took a step toward me, her golden eyes gleamed. “That’s cute.”

The old man didn’t waver. “I failed. And he will too.”

Her grin widened. “Oh, he still probably has time.” She leaned in slightly. “But really… nothing changed? Are you sure about that?”

The old man hesitated again.

And that was all she needed.

She turned to me fully, and the air around us felt heavy—oppressive.

Her voice was lower this time. Sharper.

“You need to do greater.”

I swallowed. “Greater?”

She smirked.

“Yeah. I'll help you with this one, good old memory wipe, so ill help you remember what to do. Firstly remember who you are.”

Her golden eyes locked onto mine, and suddenly, the world felt like it was slipping away—like something far bigger was watching me from just beyond the veil of reality.

Then, she leaned in close—her voice a whisper that sent a sharp chill down my spine.

“And second, don’t let #$@ get the power of friendship. And don't you dare to doubt Sunset, that's the beggining of the end.”

My breath caught.

I blinked and woke up with a sharp inhale.

The room was dark, the only light coming from the dim glow of the fireplace. My heart was pounding, my body covered in cold sweat.

What the hell was that? I sat up slowly, rubbing my face.

It was just a dream.

Just a dream.

I exhaled, forcing myself to calm down. I didn’t understand what I had seen. I didn’t know that man, I didn’t know that woman, and I sure as hell didn’t know what all that cryptic nonsense was supposed to mean.

“You need to do greater.”

“Remember who you are.”

It didn’t matter.

It was just another weird nightmare—nothing more.

I turned my head slightly. Sunset was still fast asleep beside me, her chest rising and falling in peaceful rhythm.

This was reality.

This was what mattered.

I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to relax.

Then, carefully, I laid back down.

As I closed my eyes, the last thing that lingered in my mind was the voice of the woman—cool, amused, and filled with something that sent a deep chill through me.

"And don’t let #$@ get the power of friendship."

And don't you dare to doubt Sunset, that's the beggining of the end

Whatever that meant…

It was just a dream.

Author's Note

Helol, again writing in night, this time after party, pretty tired but i've tried to put as much emotion i have in my soul, yeah, they are on... i don't know what terms, they talk for now i think that's good? You can think of it as they started to talk after fall formal in prequel but with someback ground, and yeah fluttershy crush on mh is not gone, and... the big event is coming, the anon-a-miss is still chapening and its on the way, just need to build surroundings for it a hit in most random moment. I hope you liked, if you find anything wrong write in comms as i said i write this tired asf