Thanks to the fabulous InfinityXanadu, MisterMoniker, and Pon Katt! Thanks for making this readable!

Amelie grasped the frigid buckle of the seatbelt with her tender hands, recoiling slightly at their icy bite. She slid it down the belt of Kevlar, hearing the composite in the material rasp against the friction. She repeated the process three more times with other buckles, until she was tightly fastened into her seat. She looked to her left at Luka, who was also steadfastly secured into his own seat. He glanced back.

“I don’t know what i’m supposed to do, in all honesty. I know there’s an autopilot somewhere but-”

Suddenly Hleid’s voice crackled over the voice transmitter- evidently the hardware had broken down somewhat. “Ok, the good news is I recognize this craft. I know how to control it, and how I can turn autopilot on for you lot. Should be easy enough, and hopefully all will progress as planned.”

Before she could say any more, another voice- this one with not Hleid’s low nordic cadence, but the strange irregular rhythmus of Aldrich’s North Empire accent. “If i’m not mistaken, you said that was the good news, implying, of course, that there is bad news as well.”

There was a crackly sigh over the radio. “None of you deserve to be lied to, you’re not children, so here it is. Plain and simple, no sugarcoating. This model of reentry craft was always particularly unstable, though more comfortable than many others-” Amelie snorted in derision at that. Hleid either did not, or pretended not to, hear her. “-And that condition can’t have been helped by sitting in this hanger for upwards of ten thousand years, even though it was kept in a vacuum state with no contaminants. We may not survive landing unscathed.”

Michael’s old fashioned American voice crackled over the radio next. “Thanks for that inspiring tone of confidence,” he said sardonically. “Any other rousing words for us?”

“I wasn’t trying to be inspiring, i’m trying to let you know the dangers we face and save your neck,” Hleid snapped back irritably. “Anyways, the autopilot toggle is on the back of the control wheel. It’s a big red button. All of you, push it.

They heard an AUTOPILOT: ENGAGE through the static, this one presumably from Aldrich and Donna’s ship, seeing as Hleid could likely pilot her craft on her own. Over to Amelie’s right, Luka leaned over the wheel, groping on the back for buttons. He frowned, and slammed a fist against the back of the wheel seemingly at random. After three tries, an AUTOPILOT: ENGAGE blared out of a small speaker.

“Ok, I gave my ship the ‘Flagship’ callsign, so I can direct certain features of your ships remotely. There should be another button that brings up a radar screen. When you’re there you’ll see your ship in the center of the screen, and the other ships elsewhere on the radar. Sit back and let the autopilot do its job, and whatever you do, don’t touch anything.

“Yes, ma’am,” Luka called into the radio.

“All right. Let’s get going.” There was the sound of fiddling with buttons to be heard through the radio, and suddenly there was a jolt as the subspace displacement motors began to start, slowly accelerating into a deadly hum. There was a rushing noise even louder than the engines themselves as the air was evacuated back into tanks in the hanger, then a slow, steely grinding as the bay door opened, the thick glass receding into the ceiling. And now there was nothing shielding them from the anomalous depths of space, and nothing shielding the universe against the return of the humans.

Amelie clutched the seat belt tightly as the ship began to lurch forwards. She glanced left at Luka and found he seemed just as apprehensive as she, but also excited. Noticing that she was looking at him, Luka met her eyes. “It’ll be like having peace! I wonder if there will be trees there, I don’t believe i’ve ever even seen a tree!”

As soon as he finished the sentence, they jerked forwards, accelerating quickly and exiting the Nuclear Tears for the last time. They were not fond of the ship, but it had served them well and perhaps there would be some use for it yet. They found themselves soaring through the abyss as the seat clenched around certain parts of their bodies automatically, forcing the blood away from where it would otherwise be pushed to due to the incredible amount of g-force inherent in such an acceleration.

Even with the aid of the seat, the first through minutes were terrifying and painful to Amelie. The dull roar of the engine rattling through the ship was not helping her nerves, in fact, it was making her even more apprehensive. She could feel it shaking and it felt as if her organs were rattling against each other, fit to burst. And yet, after a while, after her body caught up with the acceleration of the craft, the ride was perfectly fine, if not pleasant. Hleid’s voice crackled one last time over the radio.

“We’ll be ready for entry in about eight hours. Sit tight.”

The fire gave off no heat, and yet it had a malevolent air about it, as if it would do more than burn Twilight if she were to touch it. For a while the two of them stared at each other, each trying to predict the other’s next move, though this time Twilight took extra care not to let herself be caught unawares by whatever fearful alluring enchantment there was on the changeling’s eyes. Suddenly, there was a clashing of silver against steel, and the changeling- just for the tiniest fraction of a second- broke eye contact. And then Twilight struck with all the fury of a falling star.

Forwards. Back. Spell, then shield her eyes from the explosion. Block. Ward. She kept a thin layer of energy around her at all times to stave off stray spells, strengthening it whenever she anticipated a direct hit. It looked as though she had a dark purple film covering every part of her body. All the while she was casting her own spells at the intruder; some looked like silver arrows that sped through the air, exuding a deathly hum. They created a small explosion on impact. Another created a ray of fire, and yet others had less militant and more odd and eccentric effects, such as Twilight’s newly perfected Polymorph spell, which would have transfigured the changeling into a pygmy goat but not for the fact that it missed.

So back and forth they dueled, in a state of both freezing cold and searing heat, casting and blocking spells all the while. Twilight felt her energy draining slowly, and one spell of the changeling’s even broke through her wards, though harmless after having to power through the magical blockade.

Suddenly, from beyond the wall of green flame, there was a long, drawn out cry, a gurgling lament that seemed to have all the suffering of the world crammed in it. And it was from a voice that Twilight did not recognize. Instantly the changeling banished the searing wall and ran, howling with grief in an insectile voice to a now-visible, seemingly male changeling who was oozing black blood. Shining Armor was standing next to it with a stunned expression on his face, wielding his silver steel which seemed to gleam with a malevolent light as the changeling’s dusky blood played across its edge.

Something savage reared its head in the dark recesses of Twilight Sparkle’s mind then, something sinister, ancient, and as dark as the depths of the abyss. Her horn glowed with magic again, but unlike almost all of the other spells she had ever cast, this did not create a purple aura but an black, atramentous one, and her eyes blazed green and purple streams like irradiated tears effervesced out of the corner of her eyes. A dusky black bolt shot into the fleeing changeling’s back, and she collapsed.

Then the screaming started.

Shining Armor had not been having a good day. First there had been the two changelings, which he had to dispatch medical crews to after cleaning up the changelings; they had attacked an old mare. Luckily, however, she was a former wonderbolt and thoroughly kicked the changelings’ tails after only allowing their one cowardly attack to connect. However, she was still ancient, and the scuffle took a lot out of her. Now this; it was as if higher powers were using him in their chessboard-game of good and evil. He hated it. Glaring at the two guards in front of him, he shouted, “Are you changelings or traitors? I don’t even know which is worse!”

As he glowered, their horns glew a sickly green light and the black chitin, their true forms were revealed. They each withdrew the golden ceremonial halberds that they had stolen from his comrades, every one of whom Shining Armor considered almost as close as brother or sister. A righteous fury engulfed him, greater than any he had ever felt before. In fact, if he was observed at that moment his face would not appear contorted with rage, but deathly calm, as if the true extent of his ire exceeded that which could be expressed by emotions.

For a while there was no movement, no sound, as the three warriors visualized the battle in their minds, trying to anticipate every possibility and devise a counter.

Suddenly the closer one leapt in one mighty leap the distance between them; it must have been at least three fathoms area betwixt and between them, but the changeling acted as if it were nothing. The second leapt as well shortly after. Shining Armor raised his shield high to ward the first of the two; the bulwark of the shield reverberated as the axe-blade fell. This changeling was caught off balance for a moment; he stood trying to regain his footing for a few fleeting moments, but before Shining Armor could retaliate against him the second blade fell.

He had quite forgotten about the other changeling. He was holding the halberd high, poised to strike with a triumphant look about his eye. The golden edge of the deadly axe gleamed dully and with a terrible beauty in the strengthening light of the moon. Shining Armor wondered if he was going to die.

Then survival instinct kicked in.

All thoughts of taking the changeling alive left him. His silver sword arced upwards and caught the shaft of the war-axe before it could end him, and the look in the changeling’s eyes changed from triumph to shock- and- could it be? Did changelings feel such emotions? Was it fear, there, that he saw in the other’s eyes?

He struck with the fury of a titan four times in one second, each blow piercing the armorous chitin surrounding the weak flesh of its body, going straight through it and coating his sword with black gore. The changeling was dead before it hit the ground. He turned around to face his next foe; his ire that had been tranquil exploded into a hurricane of pure wrath. From beyond the wall of flame that separated him from his sister he heard bangs and salvos of spells being cast, and he took heart- Twilight was still alive. At least for now. I have to finish this quickly. If she’s injured... I don’t know what i’ll do!

The changeling charged again, as angry as Shining Armor was. Maybe they knew each other, he thought. He suddenly remembered that he forgot to make sure he didn’t kill the changelings- he had already failed, but perhaps he could spare this one for questioning. But first priority? Survival.

Twice more Shining Armor blocked, ignoring perfectly good opportunities to strike an opening in the other being’s stance. The changeling seemed to understand what Shining Armor was doing; after the two he no longer worried about covering his flank and charged forwards, swinging his axe wildly. Shining Armor leapt backwards, and as the metal of the axe-blade struck the ground it threw up sparks and deformed. Oh, right! Gold is a soft metal! He grabbed his shield from where it lay on the ground- he had been parrying with his sword- and waited for the changeling so strike again.

This time he did not dodge, but instead took the blow directly, staggering slightly under its weight. Then he pushed upwards, knocking the changeling back and leaped forwards again, smashing the shield into its face while it was off balance. Then he made to strike it with the flat of his blade on the side of the head.

What happened next, whether guided by fate, or chance, or some unknown higher power, changed history. As it slashed through the air, whistling, something resisted. Despite Shining Armor’s best efforts, he could not prevent the sword from going blunt-edge facing towards the changeling to sharp.

The silver sword sailed through the cold zephyrs of the night sky and cut through the dry black husk and slit the changeling’s throat. It cried out for a moment, dark blood coursing out of its neck, gurgled as the blood flowed more freely, then toppled over, dead. There was a scream of mingled sadness and rage, as the magician-changeling ran towards the prone form. Then a black bolt collided with the back of her head, and the changeling fell, silent. Then the changeling began howling, a chilling sound that froze Shining Armor’s muscles and bones in sudden terror. He looked back at the source of the dark bolt once he regained control over his nerves, just in time to see the last telltale traces of black magic usage leave Twilight’s face as she swayed tiredly in the bitter wind.

Instantly he grew afraid- it was as he feared. After her encounter with King Sombra and his alluring black magic, he had been afraid that she would succumb to its inveiglement. He had been sending letters much more often, trying to warn her without possibly bringing the subject to mind, but he had failed, and now his beloved sister would pay the price.

“Twily!” He rushed forwards, catching her just as she collapsed, unconscious, into his grip.

“We’re almost there. Brace yourself.” Hleid’s voice could be heard over the intercom, as some small beep was made by a machine.

Donna was completely out of her depth, so she did the best she could to follow the advice of the pilot and bulwark herself with the little she had to work with- the inner walls of this craft, just like the Nuclear Tears, were sleek and offered no grip. Over the past hours the glowing green and blue orb had grown in front of them and boundaries on it became more distinct. The large patches of green and blue on its surface became more defined, resolving themselves into continents, seas, islands! It was beautiful and alien and utterly unique in the universe. It had been ever since Earth began cannibalizing itself, a process which begun more than a thousand years before it officially died.

There were great white patches of snow on the northern and southern hemispheres, and it appeared to rotate about its axes just as Earth had. It had a blue halo around the edges, much like Earth but more pronounced.They appeared to be aiming at a relatively far-north part of the world, to a green and white patch on one of the continents. There were a few bumps now, the first since they had left the ship’s bay.

“Get ready!”

“Oh dear.” Aldrich, who was sharing the pod with her said conversationally. “I know a bit about reentry, and we’re going at fifteen kilometers per second, so the outside of this ship will be subjected to about...fourteen-thousand, seven hundred and twenty-seven degrees celsius, if my math is correct.”

“Shut up, Aldrich!”

“Why? Have I offended you?

“No, but that isn’t helping my nerves!”

“Sorry about that.” Donna glared at him for a moment longer, then stopped, sighing. It didn’t matter, her nerves would not change the outcome of their re-entry.

“Here’s where it could get tricky... I think we just passed this planet’s Kármán line, we’re encountering more turbulence here... six minutes or so to go, give or take.

At that moment there was the largest bump yet, and it felt to Donna as if her organs were rattling around inside her skin.

“Um... we have a problem. We’re encountering less interference from the atmosphere than expected. Probably less greenhouse gases than Earth. No matter, I can just change our ang-”

There was a flashing, intense red light from a panel in the ceiling that Donna had not even noticed before. A klaxon buzzed directly next to her, so ardent that she felt physical pain from the noise and had to clap her hands over her ears and put her head in her lap. Apparently Aldrich was not as bothered by the noise as she, for he attempted to grab the wheel and pilot his craft manually, but the wheel was locked.

“I think the navigational computers just failed! I’m not familiar enough with this sort of craft to fix it but-”

“What’s happening?! Are we going to die?!” Amelie screamed in abject, animal terror over the voice transmitter.

“It’s- it’s going to be all right. Just you see...” Luka seemed to be trying to reassure her; Donna could imagine him patting her on the back, caressing her, trying to console her. It was useless.

“I can fix this! Just hold on! I’ll- fix- this mess- I started!” Hleid shouted, but the G-forces from the speed were picking up again, and she could barely speak. Michael was silent.

Aldrich’s mind raced. Would they all burn in the atmosphere, or break like irreplaceable and invaluable antiques smashed with a hammer? Would the passing of the humans, dominators of planets, be thwarted by the will of a yet unspoilt world?

He realized then, it was not just the passing of humans that depressed him. The five other men and women had become his friends in the short time he had known them. He had never really had friends before; at school others made fun of him for his intelligence and desire to increase it. And yet over the course of what may as well have been days but was in fact untold ages of men, he had come to regard them as his true companions. Thoughts that did not feel his own flew through his mind.

Was it simply because of their shared fate, or was it more? Was it true friendship that he was feeling? Friendship for the security guard, who had to take the life of another when he was still a young man? Friendship for the diplomat who felt the death of her family was her fault? For the physicist who was always just second-rate? What about for the schoolteacher, driven to help others because of the death of a family member? Even for the pilot who had felt she must grow out of her ‘childish’ idealist ways? Even as he thought memories that were not his seemed to be siphoned out of his companions into his conscience, and he felt he understood them better now, empathized with them.

Yes, a small voice inside him answered. They are my friends, and I would do anything to protect them! As this final thought entered and passed from his mind, he looked down at his hands and gasped. Was it an illusion brought on by imminent death, or were his hands glowing that eerie blue color of the spaceship? Next to him Donna slumped in apparent peaceful sleep, not unconsciousness. His entire craft was now glowing this color- instantly, he felt it decelerate and he and Donna both would have sped into the bulkhead of the small craft if not for their seatbelts, and he hoped- no, he willed that Hleid and Luka’s ships would also slowed down. The ground was rushing up to meet them; even after their deceleration it could still be a dangerous impact.

And suddenly an unearthly exhaustion came over him; the blue corona faded from his body and everything went very black.

Author's Note

I thank once more the fabulous pre-readers that take on the ungodly duty of making sure you aren't reading the crap I write if its unedited. Unfortunately, exalted Pon Katt was not able to edit this. I assume that the same ones mentioned in the last chapter were able to read it! I hope you enjoyed!

Also, if you aren't completely mental, you will have noticed that I borrowed the title of the very show you are on this site because of. This was most regrettable. However, no other title adequately displayed what the chapter was about, so it was this that I chose.