Fragment

Chapters

Chapter 2: Opening Salvo
Chapter 3: Shock
Chapter 4: Awe
Chapter 6: Chaos Redux
Chapter 7: Ignition
Chapter 8: Drive
Chapter 9: At the Edge
Chapter 10: White Orchestra
Chapter 11: Hell March
Chapter 12: Abyss
Chapter 13: Oblivion
Chapter 1: Rune Wars
Chapter 5: Love and Loss
Chapter 14: Heartbeats

Chapter 2: Opening Salvo

“It takes a lot to make us go to war. We suffered under Discord for a thousand years without resorting to arms. Ponies were literally starving in the streets before the First Rune War started. We’re not predators—we don’t have that natural instinct for aggression, like the changelings or the gryphons. So if we’re going to war, you can rest assured that we’re doing so for good reasons, reasons that we can’t just talk out over a cup of tea.”
- Manehattan Minister of Peace, Hoofington Economics Conference

“KHORAIC VORTEX IN THE MAIN CHAMBER!”

The cry was just the first in a storm of screams and panic it sent off through the scientists in the facility. Twilight Sparkle watched, dumbfounded, as a vortex of deadly energy manifested itself in the center of the chamber, right next to her device. The sounds of panic were soon drowned out by the rumbling of thunder and groans of priceless machinery being smashed to pieces as shards of concrete and metal flew through the air.

“Shut it down, Twilight!” screamed a stallion next to her, hiding behind a console. “Shut it down!”

“No!” Twilight shouted, her eyes not on the swirling vortex but on the spirals of iridescent energy coalescing at the center of the golden egg. “It’s working! I can see it! It’s working!”

“Damn it, Twilight, you’re going to kill us all!” The frightened stallion reached for a lever on the console.

“YOU TOUCH THAT LEVER AND I WILL BURY YOU IN TARTARUS!” Twilight screamed, chest heaving as she violently slapped his hoof away.

The stallion leaned back against the floor, eyes wide. “You’re crazy!”

“I know what I’m do-” Twilight was interrupted as the Khoraic Vortex reached its apex and imploded in on itself, releasing a final burst of light that filled her eyes with stars and sent her body flailing backwards onto the floor.

Before her eyesight had even recovered she was galloping down the staircase as fast as her legs could carry her, only to stumble on the last stair, body violently wrenching forward as her face smacked into the floor. As she got up again she noticed her vision was shattered; it took a moment for her to realize that her glasses had been broken by the impact. She knocked them onto the floor, where they clattered several feet before stopping, then took another step forward and tripped on something warm and soft.

Seriously annoyed now, Twilight got back up and turned to see whatever it was that she had tripped on and saw... herself.

The other... her moaned weakly, and slowly raised her head into the air. Groggily her eyes scanned the room until they came to rest upon Twilight, at which point they snapped wide open.

Twilight stared into her own shining, glassy eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but when she tried, her voice wasn’t there. It took a few moments to find her voice again. “Wh... wh- who are you?”

In her peripheral vision Twilight could see heads poking out from behind consoles, ponies cautiously treading down the staircase, all eyes on the two Twilights.

The other her opened her mouth. “You’re... me!”

Twilight’s eyebrows furrowed in anger. “No, you are me!” she growled, jabbing an accusing hoof into the other pony’s chest. There was only one thing in all of Equestria she knew of that could produce another pony that looked exactly like her, and she’d be damned if she let this thing put itself on equal standing as herself.

“Director!” An excited shout drew Twilight’s attention away from the other Twilight towards the Harmony Device. A researcher had climbed onto the center of the golden egg. Bathed in a sphere of white light, he held up in his hooves a large golden tiara, beautiful and ornate in design, trimmed with spirals of gold and embedded with round blue gems, crowned with an enormous star-shaped magenta gemstone that sparkled brilliantly with the reflected light of the Harmony Device. “It worked! It worked!”

The other Twilight’s jaw dropped. “That’s the Element of Magic! How did you-”

Whatever the remainder of her question was, it was drowned out by the sudden screaming of a siren: a single long, continuous tone, rising and falling in pitch, howling down from the roof of the chamber.

Of all the dozens of ponies gathered in the room, Shining Armor was the only one that didn’t miss a beat. “That’s an invasion siren!” he shouted from the top of the stairs.

A flurry of panic spread through the chamber like wildfire. Scientists and technicians ran screaming and yelling in every direction, while security guards tried to wrestle the confused stampede back under control.

Twilight Sparkle stared at the other, fake her. This can’t be a coincidence, she thought to herself. A shimmering purple aura surrounded her horn as Twilight picked up her glasses and her imposter. Keeping the other Twilight hovering in the air, she put her glasses back on her head, flipped up onto her forehead so as to stay out of her vision.

Pushing through the crowd, Shining Armor tried to get down to his sister. “I have to get back to Canterlot!” he shouted. “If Solarium is under attack then they might be there as well!”

Twilight craned her neck to try and see her brother through the herd of ponies, but she wasn’t tall enough to see over their heads as they scrambled for the emergency shelter. After a few seconds she gave up. “Meet me at the teleportation array!” she shouted. Floating the other Twilight over to her, she wrapped a hoof around the other pony’s neck and channeled magic through her horn.

There was a flash of light. When it faded, Twilight was standing on an empty platform in front of the teleportation array. She dumped the other Twilight onto the floor and examined the console. Buttons and dials and levers lined every row, and although Twilight was not experienced in operating a teleportation engine, the Solarium penchant for user-friendliness meant that it was not difficult to understand. By the time Shining Armor shoved his way through to the teleportation array the rune engine beneath was whirring online.

“What’s... going on?” Other Twilight asked, sitting on the ground in a daze, staring at the herd of evacuating ponies. As Shining Armor passed her by he cast a look towards her of primarily disgust, mixed with confusion and curiosity. But, showing his military bearing, he kept his focus, and stepped inside the teleportation chamber.

Twilight pulled a red lever labeled “Canterlot - Main Hub.” The whirring of the teleportation engine rose to a crescendo, but then descended back to its standby pitch and volume. Twilight shook her head. “No receiver.” She glanced up at her brother standing inside the wire cage, his expression stoic and unreadable. The fact that the central Canterlot teleportation hub was down could only mean one thing. “What’s the closest array to the Royal Guard Headquarters?”

Shining Armor’s brows drew together for a few seconds, then answered, “Skyswirl Plaza.”

It took a few moments for Twilight to find the label within the array of levers. Once again the teleportation engine’s whirring rose higher and higher. There was a flash of cyan light, and Shining Armor was gone.

“Come on!” Twilight shouted to her imposter, magically dragging her behind herself as she vaulted over the railing. By now the chamber was empty, the researchers having all evacuated into the emergency shelter already. Twilight raced down the corridors to do the same.

The shelter was a large collection of underground bunker-rooms, connected by tunnels and hallways, built to house engineers working on the Solar Engine should Solarium ever come under attack. It had been intended to be able to be used as a backup shelter for government officials as well due to the close proximity of the Engine with Solarium’s administrative sector, so there was plenty of excess space within the shelter. As Twilight ran through the hallways, most of the rooms she passed by were only half-filled or had one or two ponies. But she was looking for one that was entirely unoccupied, so she pressed on.

A security guard emerged from around the next corner, forcing Twilight to suddenly skid to a stop. The burly pegasus was dressed in full battle gear, the sharpened steel running along the front edge of his wings sparkling in the light of the electric arc lamps. He glanced at Twilight, then at the other Twilight being dragged on her back along the ground behind her.

“I’ll take the changeling if you don’t mind, Director.”

“Wh- I’m not a-” Other Twilight started to yelp, but was silenced by a swift kick from Twilight.

“I do mind,” Twilight contended. “Its appearance in this facility is not a coincidence. It has something to do with my project, my machine, and I intend to find out what.” She looked fixedly up into the eyes of the guard pony, standing steadfast, refusing to give up one inch of space.

The guard pegasus took a deep breath and rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling, perhaps understanding the futility of attempting to argue with Director Sparkle. A few moments later his gaze fell back down to the unicorn. “Well, perhaps I could accompany you and keep you safe.”

“I’m sorry, but I can take care of myself,” Twilight replied. The irony of that statement was not lost on the security guard, who looked closely at the other Twilight as he shifted out of the way.

Twilight walked past him, still dragging the other Twilight behind her. “Thank you, sir,” she said in passing. The very next room over was empty, the only furniture a single wooden desk and stool. She entered and shut the door behind her, locking it with a half-turn of the metal wheel mounted on the back.

With contempt Twilight threw her prisoner against the wall and tilted her head down, pointing her horn straight at the other pony’s face. “Alright, you changeling scum,” she spat, every word burning with scorn, “I don’t know who you are or how you got here, but I know this is not an accident. That was a Khoraic Vortex you arrived in, and those are only supposed to happen in extremely rare cases where a teleportation engine overloads. I want to know how you ended up in a time-space distortion that my machine generated!”

“I don’t know!” the other Twilight cried. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, I have no idea where I am, I have no idea what’s going on—and I’m not a changeling, for pony’s sake!”

Twilight lifted her head and stared down at the other pony, eyes narrow. They were both breathing heavily, their chests heaving at exactly the same rate. The other Twilight was scared; her hooves were curled up against her body, her eyes quivering. Even as Twilight glared down at her she turned her head slightly to the side, as though trying to hide from that penetrating gaze.

Twilight wasn’t convinced, not by a long shot, but the other mare seemed sincere. How best then, to ascertain the truth?

“Prove it.”

“How?”

“Do magic. Do a spell. Any spell.”

The other pony’s head twitched back and forth, her eyes flittering across the room.

“Hurry up!” Twilight snapped.

The other Twilight froze still for a moment, as though too scared to move. Then, slowly, her eyes closed, and her head drew down closer to her body. Her horn glimmered, then became enwrapped in a purple aura.

Twilight felt her glasses detach from her head and float into the air. Before her eyes, the delicate metal frames straightened, the cracks in the glass disappeared, and the delicate gears that controlled the mechanisms which switched lenses back and forth at will reassembled themselves.

That aura. That light purple-magenta-ish aura. It was the same exact color as her own familiar aura.

No two unicorns were supposed to have exactly the same color of magical aura. The fact that this other pony’s magic was indistinguishable from hers could only mean one thing.

“... Discord’s black bones...”

Against her will Twilight’s body fell backwards, her rump hitting the floor. Her mouth didn’t seem to want to close no matter how hard she tried. All her anger, her frustration suddenly evaporated, and instead her body just felt numb.

“How...” Her voice seemed like that of a newborn kitten. “How is this... you... you can’t be... it’s not... you’re not...”

The other Twilight picked herself up off the ground and dusted herself off. “I don’t know about you, but something like this has-”

And then the lights suddenly went out.

The sudden fall of complete darkness jolted Twilight’s body back into action. Energy surged through her horn, shining from the tip as a soft orb of light, tinging the room a deep shade of purple.

Thumping noises echoed from the outside the door. There was muffled shouting, and then, a scream.

“We’re not safe here,” Twilight said, her expression grim.

“What do you mean?” Other Twilight asked, confused.

Twilight grimaced. That voice. It resembled the voice she remembered from recordings of herself, but it was more organic, more alive. And yet it sounded wrong; it was too high-pitched, too young. It didn’t sound like the voice Twilight was used to hearing when she spoke.

She shook her head, pushing those thoughts out from her mind. Now was not the time. Twilight turned to the other unicorn. “This was a top-secret government project,” she explained. “They coordinated this attack with the activation of the Harmony Device. That means they knew it would temporarily disable the outer defenses by drawing power from them, and that means they must have had a spy on the project. Every pony that knew about this project that’s not a head of state was in that room when we turned that thing on, so that means that they have a spy, right here, in the shelter, that can open up the doors and let them in.”

As if right on cue there was a series of loud, irregular knocks on the door. The lock handle trembled and shook for a while, then fell silent. A bright golden line started shining through the crack in the door, accompanied by the shrieking sound of metal being cut apart.

Twilight turned to Other Twilight, her voice a low whisper. “Look, I still don’t know who you are or where you came from, but I don’t have any choice but to trust you right now. When I say ‘Go’, you open that door, alright?” Other Twilight nodded, and Twilight took position right across from the door, her head lowered and hooves spread apart. “GO!”

The wheel spun and the door swung open, much to the surprise of the would-be infiltrator on the other side. Twilight let loose with a massive burst of magical energy that blasted the armored unicorn off his hooves and flattened him against the concrete wall.

“Come on!” Twilight shouted to the other her, and took off down the hallway, firing beams from her horn as she ran that smashed into more of the Manehattanite soldiers that filled the hallway. Surprise meant that three of distinctively-armored ponies fell before the fourth and fifth started responding in kind, but Twilight summoned a purple shield and rammed it into the final two.

And then she rounded the corner and found herself in a room full of a dozen more soldiers.

As Twilight skidded to a stop and desperately tried to reverse her momentum, the soldiers in the room opened fire. Her shield vibrated as it absorbed magical energy beams and deflected throwing knives. Two pegasi took off and raced towards her.

Twilight dropped the shield, and ran.

The other Twilight was running down the hall towards her. “Not this way, not this way!” Twilight shouted, and the other her slid to a halt and turned around. Together, the two of them ran back down the hallway.

“Which way?” Other Twilight shouted as they came to the end of the hallway.

“Left!” Twilight answered. As the two of them galloped down the new hallway Twilight glanced back over her shoulder. To her astonishment the two pegasi were handling the tight corridors with ease; she watched as, one after the other, the pegasi hit the side of the hallway hooves-first, legs compressing like springs, then kicking off.

They’re going to catch us, Twilight realized. And although fighting two pegasi was well within her capabilities, it would give the other soldiers time to catch up. She had two, maybe three seconds to think of a solution.

Smoothly, Twilight flipped herself around and slid backwards to a stop. She closed her eyes and telekinetic energy surged from her horn, wrapping itself around one of the heavy metal doors that lined the hallways. There was a horrendous metallic screeching noise as the door was ripped off its hinges, and Twilight threw her improvised weapon down the hallway as hard as she could.

The expressions on the pegasi’s faces were priceless as the giant slab of metal hurtled towards them.

Twilight turned back around and started running, the sounds of crashing metal echoing behind her.

“Left,” Twilight ordered again as they reached the end of another hallway, but shouts and screaming drifted down from where she had intended to go. “Er, never mind. Other way, come on!” The two unicorns raced through the maze of hallways as Twilight tried to find a path out of the deathtrap that the emergency shelter had become. There’s only one direct route from the shelter to the surface, and that’s the one they used to get in, she realized.

They had no other choice. Twilight led the other her back into the main chamber. As she cautiously peeked out from behind the door, she saw a group of over two dozen ponies down at the bottom, taking apart the Harmony Device. Rage seethed in her at the sight of the Manehattanites messing with her machine, and that rage exploded into outright mania when she saw them carrying away the Element.

“GRAAAGH!” Her battle cry echoed throughout the cavernous chamber as she charged down the steps. Bits of concrete and delicate machinery whipped around her as though caught in a tornado while consoles arced through the air like artillery shells. The storm of steel and stone thundered its way across the chamber like a horde of angry ghosts, tearing through anything that crossed its path.

Mayhem erupted at the bottom of the chamber. The first barrage of improvised artillery smashed straight into the center of the Manehattanite formation, crushing several pegasi. The soldiers scattered, the Earth ponies ducking for cover, the pegasi taking to the air, the unicorns attempting to shield themselves from the telekinetic salvo. The Manehattanites, unable to see their attacker through the whirlwind of scrap tearing towards them, panicked. Jagged pieces of steel tore through skin and flesh, speckling the floor with red splotches.

It was not long before Twilight’s opponents recovered, however. As she continued down the stairs, drawing closer and closer, they soon realized that they had but only a single attacker. The very same pieces of scrap Twilight had been throwing began shooting back at her; she quickly threw up a shield and continued her assault. But such massively unrestrained use of magical power was taking its toll—she was slowing, tiring. The glassy plinks of debris pinging off her shield soon became a constant rhythm; it took all of her mental fortitude to maintain it as she tore another machine off the ground and threw it. The direction of the majority of the flying debris soon reversed. Cracks began to splinter across the surface of her magical bubble, but Twilight pressed on, teeth clamped tight, eyes burning with determination.

There was a sound like the shattering of glass as a throwing knife penetrated the bubble, and pain sliced across her left shoulder. A cry escaped her lips as she gazed down at her injured limb; there was a fleshy gash just beneath the joint, shining bright red as blood gushed out and leaked down her leg.

Her shield trembled under one last barrage, and then fell apart. Twilight closed her eyes, awaiting the end amidst the hurricane of metal and noise.

When seconds passed and she found herself inexplicably still alive, she opened them again. A powerful purple force shield was absorbing every energy beam and deflecting every metal projectile. But it wasn’t hers.

A pair of hooves wrapped themselves around her body, hoisting her into the air. “Come on, let’s get out of here!” the other Twilight shouted, lifting the injured unicorn up the stairs.

“No!” Twilight screamed, fighting desperately against the hooves trying to drag her back to safety. “I’ve got to stop them, they’re taking the Element, they’re taking everything, I have to stop them!”

“You’ll die.”

Those two words. Those two, simple, short syllables, and all of Twilight’s fight simply vanished: evaporated into thin air. Her legs lay limp; her eyes stared uselessly at the rain of metal shards and energy beams that rained upon the magical shield. Her body was a ragdoll to her, unable to move, unwilling to respond to her commands.

Magic enveloped her, and she felt herself lift into the air. Some deep, animalistic part of triggered, and she instinctively curled up. Exhaustion lay on her like a heavy blanket, and darkness took her.

It took all of Shining Armor’s resolve and dedication to his duty to tear himself away from Twilight. His instincts commanded him not to do it, to stay in Solarium and protect his little sister to the death. But a lifetime of living in Canterlot and years of fighting for his hometown had instilled in him an equally deep sense of loyalty to the city, and in his rational mind Shining Armor knew that Twilight would be well-protected in the heart of Solarium.

So he ignored his familial instincts, and left.

The acrid scent of smoke filled his nostrils as Shining Armor stepped out of the teleportation array into Skyswirl Plaza. Fires burned in the distance as plumes of smoke billowed out over the shining fortress-city, weaving between the white towers like black threads as they expanded into the skies. His ears, honed beyond the limits of an ordinary pony by years of training and combat experience, detected the sounds of war: blades swinging, magic blasting, ponies screaming.

And there were things, things in the sky. Big triangular metal things that dodged and weaved through the towers of Canterlot, dwarfing the pegasi darting around them. They were ungainly machines, in both their appearance and movement: blocky and crude in design, and easily outpaced by their pegasus escorts. As Shining Armor watched, one of the machines approached the plaza and came to a standstill, hovering in the air for a little time before descending to the ground.

Shining Armor ducked into one of the many stores surrounding the plaza and hid. Carefully peeking through a row of books in the store window, he watched the triangular flying machine deploy three stick-like legs and come to a rest on the white marble of the plaza. A ramp dropped from its belly, and a dozen soldiers, dressed in the distinctive dark green battle gear of Manehattan, marched out. Once they had exited the flying machine returned to the air and flew off.

Shining Armor considered his situation. He was unarmed and unarmored. To get to his gear, he had to get to the Tower of the Guard—visible from his window, just two blocks away. He could either break the rear window of the store and take the long way around, or he could go out through the front door. Out in the plaza were four unicorns and eight pegasi, most likely a single squad, plus two pegasi escorts. The squad that had come out of the flying machine were basic grunts, probably fresh out of boot camp without so much as a cat-fight’s worth of fighting experience, save for the sergeant in charge. The pegasi escorts, on the other hoof, had their dark green armor trimmed in gold—the mark of the Manehattan elite corps, the Rangers. Shining Armor himself had nothing but his own body, not even the non-combat uniform that marked him as a member of the Royal Guard.

But he was a unicorn, so he didn’t need armor or weapons. And more than that, he was a Commando.

Shining Armor ran out the front door of the bookstore screaming and flailing, doing his best impression of a panicking civilian. As his head swung wildly back and forth he picked one of the Rangers and started galloping towards her. The Manehannites looked at him with vague, detached curiosity, at least until they noticed he was getting uncomfortably close.

At about four meters away was when the pegasus Ranger realized it, but by then it was already too late. Shining Armor leapt the gap in a single bound, delivering a powerful kick through his enemy’s hooves, barely raised to defend herself, sending all his momentum smashing into the pony’s unarmored belly and knocking her to the ground. Before she could even react to the attack Shining Armor had brought his hoof to her throat, and pressed down with the full weight of his body.

Crunch.

The mare was almost certainly dead, but Shining Armor took no chances; telekinetically he ripped off the blades lining one of her wings and sliced it across her throat.

At this point the grunt squad was still in shock; the only Manehattanite to respond was the other Ranger, who had already bridged half the distance between him and Shining Armor. Shining Armor did a spinning leap towards the pegasus; simultaneously he summoned magic into his horn and pushed down hard on the other pony’s head, forcing the Ranger to stumble and fall to the ground. As Shining Armor spun above the pegasus he took his stolen wing-blade and shoved it downwards, aiming for a vulnerable gap in the back of the Ranger’s armor at the bottom of the neck. But the pegasus, anticipating the attack, twisted his body, causing the blade to deflect harmlessly against his armor.

Shining Armor overshot the Ranger and hit the ground rolling, smashing into the grunt squad like a bowling ball. With practiced ease he came out of his roll in a perfect combat stance. Surrounded by enemies on all sides, he summoned a purplish-pink bubble shield into existence, locking him in with the two closest pegasi, standing on opposite sides of him.

The one on his left recovered more quickly than the other, and attempted to thrust his spear at him. Shining Armor dodged backwards, letting the spear pass in front of him, but before the pegasus’s momentum had been fully expended he telekinetically forced the spear forwards, ripping it out of the other pony’s hooves. A slight adjustment to the path was all that was needed to send it plunging through the flimsy chest armor of the pegasus’s compatriot, who was only now finally beginning to react to the situation. Shining Armor turned around and delivered a powerful kick with his hind legs to the first pegasus’s head, then pulled out the spear from the other pony’s chest and delivered the finishing blow.

By now the element of surprise had worn off. As the Ranger barked orders at them, the unicorns were taking up positions at the edge of the plaza in teams of two while the pegasi started smashing against Shining Armor’s shield. He had caught himself like a mouse in a trap of his own design.

But mousetraps didn’t tend to explode.

Grabbing the other, unbloodied spear, Shining Armor made a flicking motion with his head. The sharp, distinct edge of his shield suddenly diffused into a cloud that blasted outwards in all direction, blowing the pegasi off their feet. Knowing that the other Ranger was still the most dangerous enemy present, he hefted the spear and threw it, giving it the telekinetic guidance it needed to plunge straight into the pony’s exposed face.

Four down.

The unicorns at the edge of the plaza opened fire, shooting bright multi-colored beams of energy at him. Rather than summon another magical bubble to defend himself, Shining Armor telekinetically lifted two of the still-stunned pegasi and used them as living shields as he charged towards two of the unicorns. One ran; the other tried to magically wrestle the pegasi from Shining Armor, but her magic was far too weak. Again Shining Armor tore a wing-blade from one of the pegasi and sliced it across the unicorn’s chest

Seven down.

The other two unicorns took one look at their squadmate that was running for dear life away from Shining Armor, then turned tail and scampered off. The two remaining pegasi watched their fleeing squad members, exchanged glances, and took to the sky.

And that's a wrap.

Panting hard and drenched in sweat, Shining Armor managed a small grin as his opponents fled. But that was all he allowed himself; time was of the essence, and he ran off towards the Tower of the Guard.

The great double-doors of the tower entrance had been left open; Shining Armor ran right through and up the staircase, passing by paintings and statues of former Guard Captains as he approached the top. Golden weapons and armors lined the halls of the Tower, relics of bygone eras. There wasn’t really anything “royal” about the Royal Guard—there hadn’t been for centuries. The days when princesses still roamed the streets of Canterlot were little more than legend now. But the name of the Guard remained the same, despite those they had been intended to guard being long gone; it was a memorial to those old days of peace and harmony and perhaps, the mark of a silent promise that they might return.

Such thoughts, however, were far from Shining Armor’s mind as he entered the royal armory. The shelves were mostly empty, save for a single locker at the other end of the room marked with the prestigious title, “Captain of the Guard.”

With motion so oft-repeated that it had become reflex, Shining Armor donned his battle gear. Silvery plate armor, enchanted to be as light as possible, fitted over his chest and back, while a thin layer of padded chainmail wrapped around the upper half of his limbs and his underside. A belt holding a series of razor-sharp throwing knives wrapped around his waist. His hooves fitted snugly into metal shoes; the front pair were equipped with rotating blades that could swing out and lock into place for combat, then swing back when Shining Armor needed his legs for running.

A loud metallic crash sounded as Shining Armor finished putting on his shoes. As he rushed out of the armory he almost ran into a small yellow stallion.

“C- Captain!” the yellow unicorn exclaimed, dropping papers all over the ground. “I- uh- er- I- uh- S- sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“Save the apology for later, Bright Hoof,” Shining Armor ordered. “Where is the Lord Magister?”

Bright Hoof desperately tried to gather up his papers with his hooves, mumbling something incoherently. Shining Armor mentally sighed; the little yellow stallion was a secretary, not a soldier, and it showed. Any of the Royal Guards would have answered immediately, probably by telling Shining Armor that they were escorting the ruler of Canterlot to one of the three maximum-security vaults scattered throughout Canterlot. “Forget the papers and just answer me, please.”

Bright Hoof continued mumbling as he finished picking up the papers in his hooves and looked up into Shining Armor’s eyes. “They, um. Took him to Max-Secure Bunker D.” His eyes shifted back and forth nervously.

“Thank you,” Shining Armor replied, and ran back down the stairs.

There was a small melee on the rooftops of the buildings across the street as Shining Armor left the Tower. Two Canterlot Earth ponies were dueling a pegasus while another Manehattanite unicorn provided ranged support. Unable to help directly, Shining Armor took one of the knives from his belt and, after judging angle and wind speed for a few seconds, magically fired it with deadly precision straight into the neck of the enemy unicorn. The unicorn’s cry as she fell off the rooftop distracted her pegasus companion for a second, just long enough a time for the Earth ponies to exploit and finish the pegasus.

One of the Earth ponies waved her thanks from the rooftop before the pair ran out of view. Shining Armor nodded before turning and scanning the deserted streets. Most civilians had already taken shelter in bunkers or buildings. In this situation, he was essentially blind; with no way to contact anyone in charge and no idea of what the overall plan of defense was, he was effectively on his own despite being in the middle of his hometown.

So he paused, and thought. The Manehattanite flying machines in the sky were numerous, but at one squad per craft they weren’t nearly enough to successfully invade Canterlot. There were no sounds of artillery in the distance, which meant that either there was no land assault accompanying the aerial one or that Canterlot’s defense turrets had already all been taking out, which was unlikely. The shield engines weren’t activated, which meant that whoever was in charge did not believe that there were more enemy forces incoming and had left the giant overlapping cyan bubbles offline in order to better facilitate mobility within the city.

It didn’t make any sense. Unless Manehattan was holding back the majority of its forces for some unknown signal, there was no way they could be seeking to occupy Canterlot. The flight of their machines and pegasi across the sky and the distribution of fighting across the city, indicated by the plumes of smoke that billowed from the white towers, seemed random and chaotic. The Manehattanites were wreaking havoc, but they didn’t seem to be going for any particular objective as Shining Armor would expect a relatively small strike force to be doing.

For some strange reason, his mind wandered back to the Tower of Guard. The scene played out in his mind again: him leaving the armory, Bright Hoof bumping into him and scattering papers all over the floor, Shining Armor trying to question Bright Hoof as Bright Hoof desperately tried to pick the papers back up with his hooves...

Wait. Bright Hoof was a unicorn. What was he doing picking up papers with his hooves? And what was on those papers anyways? Shining Armor closed his eyes, straining to remember.

Diagrams. Maps of the city. Information about the security shelters.

“They, um. Took him to Max-Secure Bunker D.”

There were only three of those in the city.

Shining Armor cursed himself for not realizing it sooner. Bright Hoof hadn’t been Bright Hoof; that was a changeling. And if that changeling had been looking for information about the maximum-security vaults...

Everything else is a distraction, he thought. They’re after the Lord Magister.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Canterlot Military Propaganda Pamphlet (Excerpt)
The Canterlot Commando Initiative

In a world where war is dominated by images of massive telekinesis engine-powered cannons battering enormous city-spanning shields that can be activated at a moment’s notice, wars are still nevertheless won and lost on the backs of the soldiers who fight it. And there is no city that recognizes this fact more than Canterlot, as demonstrated by the Commando Initiative.

With a ninety-eight percent dropout rate even after selecting from the highest scorers in all branches of service, there is no training regime in Equestria that is more brutal than the Canterlot Commandos. There are rarely more than a dozen active-duty Commandos at any given time, and these gifted few wear their badges with pride. As they should, for these are unquestionably the best soldiers in Equestria. Trained to operate deep in enemy territory alone for long periods of time on the most dangerous and most critical covert operations, commandos are expected to handle jobs that would normally be relegated to entire platoons, and can easily best entire squads of enemy soldiers even when heavily outnumbered.

Commandos are tools of last resort. When a mission absolutely cannot be allowed to fail, they are who we call.

Chapter 3: Shock

“Or perhaps you could go eat a flying piece of shit.”
- Col. Slice, when asked to surrender at the Second Battle of Manehattan

Twilight Sparkle awoke to the sight of her own face staring at her.

“Oh,” the other Twilight sighed in relief, “you’re awake! I thought you weren’t going to make it!”

Twilight managed a pained moan in reply. She was lying on her side, cheap carpet pressing against her fur, and she could feel her pulse throbbing through her head with every heartbeat. She tried to move, but a sharp, shooting pain sliced across her shoulder. Grimacing, she turned her head to examine her wound.

The open gash ran right above the joint. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but blood still oozed from the injured tissue, pooling in the middle of the wound then overflowing and dripping down her leg onto the carpet. It looked bad, but fortunately the gash didn’t seem to run very deep.

Just a flesh wound.

The other Twilight noticed Twilight’s attention to her injury. “We need to get that stitched up,” she said. “I’ll go look for a needle and thread, you stay here and rest.” She stood up from her kneeling position and trotted out of the room.

Twilight examined her environment. As far as she could tell, she was in the living room of an abandoned apartment, the occupants probably having already evacuated to the shelters. The room was unlit and sparsely furnished—the intricate flower patterns on the seats were faded, and the wood-colored paint on the table was chipped and falling off.

The other Twilight seemed to be taking her time, so she slowly stood up and tested her injured limb, carefully leaning her weight onto it and gauging the pain she felt in her shoulder. Satisfied with the results, she tried walking. After a little experimentation, she found that if she shifted her weight in a certain way, she could avoid stretching the skin around the wound and setting fire to the frayed nerve endings.

Feeling thirsty, Twilight limped over to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water from the faucet, then used several paper napkins to blot away the blood in her wound, pressing down until the bleeding stopped entirely.

Other Twilight still hadn’t returned, so she decided to go look for her herself. Even at her reduced pace, the small apartment didn’t take long to search. Failing to find the other her in any of the four rooms, Twilight limped out of the apartment and out into the stairwell.

The stairs were grimy and unswept, circling around in a square spiral shape up three floors and down four. Other Twilight was on the landing two floors above, her body still as stone, her eyes wide and fixated on the landing beneath her. Twilight followed her gaze into an unlit corner of the staircase. There, in the shadows, so dark that she hadn’t even seen it at first glance, was the corpse of a Solarium soldier—an Earth pony with a spear embedded in her chest, blood pooling in the corner of the landing where the stair met the wall.

“Hey,” Twilight called, jolting Other Twilight out of her reverie. Other Twilight hurried down the staircase, floating a sewing kit in front of her, making sure to give the dead soldier a wide berth as she passed it on the landing. When she finally reached Twilight, her eyes glanced back at the corpse.

“This is real, isn’t it?” she whispered. “War. You... you ponies are really k- killing each other out there.”

Twilight was silent. What could she say to that? What was a fact of life to her seemed to be unthinkable to this other pony. She took the sewing kit from Other Twilight and sat back down onto the carpet, preparing to stitch her wound together.

“Wait,” Other Twilight said, watching Twilight attempt to thread a needle. “You’re hurt, let me do it.”

In silence Twilight offered the needle and thread to the other unicorn, who threaded it with much less difficulty with the help of light from her horn. As the needle pierced Twilight’s skin it set sensitive nerves aflame, sending burning pain around her wound, but Twilight refused to cry out, biting her lip in determination to remain strong.

Seeing this, Other Twilight drew back in shame. “Sorry,” she apologized, ears flat against her head. “I’ve never done this before.”

Twilight shook her head in a gesture that was meant to say, “You don’t have to apologize,” but she wasn’t sure if the other pony understood. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the pain away from her mind and spoke in a soft, steady voice.

“You saved my life. Thank you. You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

Other Twilight nodded, the encouragement giving her the confidence she needed to continue sewing the wound closed.

“I think that’ll hold,” she finally said, her tone unsure as she withdrew from Twilight’s shoulder.

Twilight watched as Other Twilight cleaned off the needle and put it back in the sewing kit. As if the closing of the box marked the release of a sudden surge of curiosity, Twilight felt an impulsive desire to know—to learn about this other mare, to understand her, to compare.

“My name is Twilight Sparkle,” she said, trying to sound as official as possible.

Other Twilight gave an awkward smile. “I’m also Twilight Sparkle.”

Inwardly, Twilight cursed. She had expected that answer, but the inner hope had been that the other mare would have had a different name, if for no other reason than that she could stop mentally referring to her as “Other Twilight.” Other Twilight probably thought of her in much the same way.

There were a plethora of questions in her mind, but Twilight picked out the one most prominent in her mind. “Where did you come from?”

Other Twilight frowned, drawing her eyebrows together, her head turning away and towards the ground. There was a long pause as she thought about how to phrase her answer.

“It’s a town called Ponyville. In, um, a land called Equestria,” her voice came, soft and unsure.

Twilight sighed and shook her head. “This land is called Equestria too. But I’ve never heard of a town called Ponyville.” Her twin seemed to deflate, sinking with eyes turned down into the ground. “But just because I’ve never heard of it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,” she added hastily. “I never really studied geography that much.”

There was an awkward silence, broken this time by Other Twilight. “So, what is this place? This city, I mean.”

“It’s called Solarium,” Twilight answered.

“Solarium? That’s a weird name for a city.”

Twilight sighed. “Yeah. It started as a research facility named after the Solar Engine, which is the whole reason the city exists.”

“You mean that really big tower in the middle of the city?” Other Twilight asked. Twilight nodded; the other mare must have seen it when escaping from the underground facility—it was literally impossible to miss while in the streets of Solarium. “How did y- what does it do?”

Twiilght carefully rose to her hooves. “That’s your third question in a row, and I have a lot of things to ask you too. Why don’t we take turns?” Other Twilight’s head drew back from Twilight for a second before nodding. “The Equestria you come from. What’s it like?”

The other mare pursed her lips in thought for a very long time as she considered her answer. “It’s... beautiful.” Her eyes grew distant, gazing at some unknown, sunlit landscape that Twilight could only imagine. “A land where ponies live in peace and harmony, enjoying our lives as we learn about friendship...” She looked down, then back up at Twilight. “Not that it’s always peaceful there, of course,” she added. “We get our share of troubles too. But...” She hesitated, eyes distant. “We don’t fight and kill each other. Not like here.” Her ears drooped. “Why are you fighting each other? Why isn’t Princess Celestia stopping it? Why isn’t-”

Twilight held out a hoof to stop the stream of questions from the unicorn. She took a deep breath. “I don’t know about your Equestria, but our royal line ended over a thousand years ago. With Discord.”

The other Twilight was silent for a long time, staring at her hooves. “Princess Celestia told me that she defeated Discord with her sister, Princess Luna, and the Elements of Harmony.” She looked up at Twilight. “That... never happened here?”

Twilight shook her head. “We never had Princesses to fight our battles for us.” She stood up and walked to the window. “Discord’s reign lasted a long time—nopony really knows how long, since there were no ponies keeping track of the years during that time, but most say it was over a thousand years.” She bowed her head and closed her eyes. “A lot of ponies died in the fight for our freedom, and we’ve been fighting ever since.”

A deep, low rumble thundered from the street beneath, causing the glass in the building to rattle. Other Twilight cautiously trotted over, and Twilight shifted to the left to allow her to peek out the window. Down in the street beneath, a house-sized slab of metal rolled down the street, crushing benches and overturning trees, dressed in the signature gold, cyan, and white of Solarium and sporting four massive treads and twin cannons,

“What is that?” Other Twilight whispered.

“That’s a tank,” Twilight explained. “It’s... umm... a large armored vehicle, internally propelled, with cannons.”

Other Twilight stared at the tank as it rolled past them. “Those don’t look like any cannons I’ve ever read about.”

“They’re rune engine-powered. Telekinesis engines in the barrels take a slug of metal and shoot it at high speeds.”

Other Twilight turned to Twilight with a confused expression. “Rune engine?”

Twilight sighed, giving up on her little game of taking turns with the questions. It made sense; Twilight’s questions were a matter of curiosity and scientific research, but Other Twilight’s questions might be a matter of survival. “It’s a device that utilizes counter-rotating magical field lines generated via the Tock Effect from runestone. As a result of the counter-rotating magical fields, particles within the runestone are released and converted into magical energy and sent through control matrices to become usable energy.”

Other Twilight leaned back and blinked several times. “So... it’s a machine that turns mass into magic?”

Twilight giggled, pleasantly surprised that the other pony had understood what she had just said. “Yep!” They really must be the same pony after all.

There was an enormous whirring sound in the distance, a familiar noise to any pony that had lived in Solarium for more than a year. The sky outside the window was tinged a light blue. “Come on,” Twilight said to her counterpart, and rushed out of the apartment and up the stairs.

The door to the roof was unlocked, thankfully. As the two mares stepped out onto the flat rooftop of the apartment building, the skies overhead were underlayed with overlapping half-spheres of cyan magical energy. “Shields are up,” Twilight said, squinting as she peered out into the night sky. “But not on the west side,” she added as she turned around, seeing that the western edge of the city lacked the shimmering translucent domes. She flipped her glasses down and started switching around the multitude of lense attachments. The glasses were meant to be for viewing delicate machinery, but a few adjustments could turn them into makeshift binoculars. “That must be where the bulk of the attack is coming from.” She flipped her glasses back up, then, taking a running start, jumped across the small gap between buildings and landed on an adjacent rooftop.

“Uhh...” Other Twilight raised an eyebrow and called to Twilight. “If the bulk of the attack is coming from the west, shouldn’t we be going east?”

Twilight shook her head. “Buck no,” she called back. “I’d rather waste away in Tartarus for the rest of my life than watch this city burn while I can still do something about it.” She paused. “You don’t have to follow me if you don’t want to. I’m not going to ask for you to fight for a world that’s not yours.”

Other Twilight sighed, her ears drooping. “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.” She smiled sadly. “I’ll help you. If we really are the same pony, then that means I would be doing the same in your position.”

A thin stream of smoke puffed its way over Canterlot. Unlike the other gray pillars that rose from fires burning inside the gleaming buildings, this one was moving.

Shining Armor paused and came to the edge of a bridge, peering out towards the smoke. Now’s an odd time for the train to be running, isn’t it? As the light gray smoke smoke crawled sideways through his field of vision, a short train with three compartments came into view, pink and white and waving a flag with the emblem of the office of the Magistrate.

Shining Armor frowned. It was way too obvious; his second-in-command, Nightfall, would never attempt to move the Lord Magister by so conspicuous and vulnerable a method. But just as he finished that thought, two more trains puffed into view, also bearing the same purple flag and traveling on different tracks towards distant parts of the city.

“Now that’s more like it,” Shining Armor murmured, his frown turning into a smile. The smile quickly vanished as he squinted at the trains. Of the three trains, at least two had to be decoys. The possibility that all three were fakes wasn’t worth considering as Shining Armor didn’t have any other leads. He stared hard at the tracks, trying to remember which ones went where and from that deducing which one wasn’t a decoy. His deliberation, however, was interrupted when he noticed one of the triangular flying machines buzzing past the train closest to him. Short, colored beams were exchanged between the train and the flying machine as it came close, then drew back away.

Well that answers that question. Evidently the decoy attempt had failed. Shining Armor’s head snapped to his left, following the rails, looking for a place where he could intercept the train.

There. A small, pedestrian bridge that crossed over the tracks as they ran between two towers. Shining Armor galloped at full speed, blasting past small skirmishes in the street as he raced for the bridge. The flying contraption came in for another pass at the train as both drew closer and closer...

He made it with seconds to spare. Climbing onto the ledge of the bridge as the train barreled towards him, he took a moment to catch his breath. The train had five compartments, which gave him a little bit of leeway with his next maneuver.

As the train engine blew by underneath him and the flying machine flew off to avoid the towers, Shining Armor leapt off the bridge. He hit the second passenger car right-hooves first and rolled, barely managing to avoid falling off the edge of the train before his left hooves hooked onto the front end of the fourth compartment.

His metal plating had protected him from most of the impact, but Shining Armor still ached from the fall. He ignored the feeling as he slipped down into the space between the passenger compartments, landing on the small bridge that connected them. The doors were unlocked, not that such meager protection could have delayed the commando for long anyways. He proceeded up through the train, each compartment devoid of passengers, and into the front car.

As he opened the door a spear thrust out of the blue, shooting straight at his face. Shining Armor ducked, letting the point pass over his head. Surprise flashed over the face of the red unicorn who had jabbed the spear upon seeing Shining Armor, and he quickly withdrew and stood at attention.

“Captain!” a second, light blue stallion called, bringing his hoof up to his horn in salute.

Shining Armor’s response was to rear up onto his hind legs and bring both of his blades to the other two’s necks.

“S- sir?” the red pony stammered.

Shining Armor stared at him, his eyes burning with grim determination. “Spear Shot, on the final exam of commando training, which portion did you fail and what was your score?”

Spear Shot blinked twice, and his eyes flickered downwards before returning to meet the white unicorn’s. “Stealth, 87,” he answered succinctly.

Shining Armor withdrew one blade and brought his gaze to rest on the other pony. “Twinblade, who did you bring to the Guard Academy graduation dance?”

The light blue stallion answered immediately. “Heart Bud.”

The hoof-mounted blade made a metallic shing as it swung back into its inactive position. Shining Armor breathed a sigh of relief. “Sorry. Canterlot’s been infiltrated by changelings, and they knew the Lord Magister was on this train somehow.” His gaze turned to the pony at the front end of the car; a tall, old unicorn mare dressed in elaborate, gem-encrusted robes and jewelry, and wearing sparkling glasses.

“It is good to see you, Captain,” she greeted, her voice slow and measured.

“Glad to be here, ma’am,” Shining Armor replied. The Lord Magister was calm; her face showed no signs of fear, but Shining Armor could tell from the way she shifted her weight back and forth that she was nervous. A frazzled mane and tail suggested the hectic departure she had been through.

The greetings finished, Twinblade approached the unicorn commando. “Changelings, sir?”

Shining Armor nodded. “I found one in the Tower of Guard. It was disguised as Bright Hoof.”

Twinblade hissed. “Those Solarium nerds lose control of the queen?”

“Unknown,” Shining Armor replied sharply. “But that’s not our concern right now. Where are the others?”

“They’re on the other trains,” Twinblade responded. He shook his head. “We tried to set up decoys, but they must have saw us boarding because that flying thing was on us the moment we left the station.”

“So it’s just the three of us then. Where were you planning to get off?”

Twinblade glanced out the window at the buildings rushing by. “Starlight Station. It’s the closest stop to Vault B.”

Shining Armor nodded in agreement. “Good, that’s what I would h-” His sentence was cut short by three muffled, metallic thuds far back on the train. He scowled. “Guess they’ve started boarding.” Calculations ran through his brain, and he glanced at the two other guards. “You two stay here. I’ll take care of whoever’s above.”

Spear Shot merely saluted in response. “You sure you’ll be fine, sir?” Twinblade asked.

“I’ve got this!” Shining Armor shouted over the wind as he opened the back door of the passenger car.

Climbing onto the roof was no simple task; as his hooves were unable to get a grip on the edge, Shining Armor ended up having to jump, conjuring a shield bubble beneath him while in the air, and then jumping off of that onto the top of the passenger car. On the roof of the third passenger car were two unicorn Rangers, and behind them at the far end of the train, one tall, unarmored unicorn mare.

It would be easy to slip off the sleek metal roofs of the passenger cars, so a more cautious approach to combat was needed. Shining Armor lowered his stance and focused on the two Rangers as they approached. The gray stallion on his left had a single retractable hoof-blade similar to Shining Armor’s and a lance attached to his horn, while the green mare on his left was carrying a short spear. Both were average sized ponies.

Shining Armor charged. The gray unicorn’s horn glowed, attempting to trip him, but he anticipated the attack and countered it with his own magic. The mare then thrust the spear at his face, but Shining Armor dived, sliding on his stomach across the roof with front hooves outstretched and slicing at the feet of the Rangers, the metal-on-metal contact of his armor with the roof almost frictionless.

The two Manehattanites leapt out of the way. Shining Armor summoned a shield bubble in front of him and slammed into it, instantly arresting his momentum. He flipped onto his back and unleashed a powerful telekinetic push onto the recovering mare, but her compatriot pulled with his magic, keeping her from falling off the train. Shining Armor pushed off his shield with his front hooves and slid into her, using her as a springboard to jump back onto his feet. The green mare fell, the other Ranger unable to compensate for the sudden application of force.

Now on all fours again, Shining Armor swung at the remaining Ranger’s exposed neck, but his quarry dodged backwards out of range. Rather than regrouping for another attack as Shining Armor expected, he continued to back away until he was well outside of the commando’s melee range.

Shining Armor took the moment to catch his breath, his eyes on the Ranger. The gray unicorn’s expression was nervous, his eyes flickering between Shining Armor and the white mare. “Crystalline?” the Ranger called. “This guy’s out of my league.”

“I’ll give it a try, I suppose,” the mare answered, her voice barely audible over the wind. The Ranger carefully backed away from Shining Armor, who assumed a more relaxed stance and turned his attention to his new opponent.

Only now did Shining Armor notice that “Crystalline”, although unarmored, was not unarmed. She sported four blades, one on each of her legs, and each was delicately engraved with flower-like patterns. On a belt around her waist were several small throwing knives. The latter weren’t of much danger unless they landed on his patches of exposed skin, whereas the former could probably penetrate his chainmail with a piercing thrust.

His eyes narrowed as he gauged this foe. To willingly go into combat with a Royal Guard in full kit without any armor of her own meant she was either very skilled or very stupid; from the Ranger’s comment, Shining Armor could assume it was the former.

She was a big pony, as tall as Shining Armor but without the bulk, lending her a thin, flexible, but fragile frame. Speed and flexibility over physical power, then. The lack of armor meant she could exploit those advantages to their fullest. And having four blades meant she probably wasn’t a spell specialist. Shining Armor’s eyes drifted over to her cutie mark, but it was of little help in discerning his opponent’s likely strategy; some kind of flower made of purple gemstones that he couldn’t relate to combat in any way.

The elaborately-decorated silver blades, the luxuriant mane and tail of flowing purple curls, the sheen in her coat told Shining Armor that this was no soldier; no self-respecting warrior would spend that much time grooming themselves. A mercenary, then? And that pose—that noble, almost regal way she delicately held herself—it was an affectation Shining Armor was familiar with, but only in Canterlot nobility.

Traitor.

There was, in his mind, no greater crime.

Crystalline slid from her relaxed position into a combat stance. Shining Armor did the same, his body tensing, and their eyes bored into each other.

There was a pinkish-white flash, and suddenly the mare was gone. Out of pure reflex, Shining Armor spun around to face the opposite direction and raised his right hoof. There was sharp clash of metal-on-metal as the mare’s blade met his.

Their eyes locked for a single moment.

Teleporter.

There was another flash of light, and this time she was above him, weapon aimed for the back of his neck; Shining Armor twisted to the left, letting the blade glance uselessly on his plate armor. Then she was on his right, stabbing into his thigh. He rolled, attempting to slam into her with his greater mass, but she teleported again, on his left before he had completed the roll, attacking his chest.

Shining Armor reacted. And reacted. And reacted. Moving on pure instinct and muscle memory, he narrowly avoided each attack, unable to grasp a single moment to strategize or think in any way. As the relentless assault continued, he could only reflexively defend; letting deadly strikes rain uselessly onto his armor, barely twisting out of the way of throat-cutting slices against his neck, blocking murderous thrusts with well-placed shields.

And then it was over. Crystalline appeared on the far side of the train car. Shining Armor cautiously returned to a standing position from the awkward half-bent pose he had been in, and breathed.

Discord’s black bones.

Shining Armor had defeated teleporters before, and the strategy was always the same: give them the initiative, learn how rapidly they could use the spell, and then anticipating an attack and striking them in the vulnerable seconds immediately after they had used the spell. But this mare could fire off her teleportation spell more quickly than any pony Shining Armor had ever seen. Without the time to try and anticipate her strikes, there was no way for him to counterattack.

She was breathing heavily, but not nearly as heavily as Shining Armor, who was drenched in sweat. It didn’t help that he had already exerted himself in earlier fights and in running across the city, while she was fresh and unspent.

At least they were fighting on the roof of a train. The narrow and slippery rooftop coupled with the unpredictable vibrations of the vehicle meant that there were only two real positions Crystalline could attack from; front and back. Shining Armor also noted that the Ranger was gone; he must not have noticed the flying machine coming by to pick the Manehattanite up.

The pinkish-white mare closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Shining Armor tensed, ready for another assault.

Two knives detached from her belt and shot out towards him; expecting for Crystalline to try and launch the knives from multiple angles, Shining Armor responded by casting a large bubble shield that surrounded him. But Crystalline teleported inside his shield, in front of him—there was no room for him to dodge, so he was forced to drop the shield and leap backwards. The mare teleported again while he was still in the air, appearing beneath him and striking at his vulnerable underbelly. He twisted around, letting the plate armor on his back take the blow. As he landed on the roof there was another flash, and Crystalline appeared above him, vaulting overhead, blade piercing down at his face. Shining Armor tilted his head to the side and raised his own blade to her head. The mare, seeing the attack, withdrew her thrusting leg and twisted around to avoid the blow...

The train suddenly lurched. The unexpected movement thrust the edge of Shining Armor’s blade just millimeters higher into the air.

Another pinkish-white flash, and Crystalline again stood at the far end of the passenger car, her face impassive. Shining Armor slowly clambered to his feet.

A drop of blood collected, then dripped down the mare’s face. Crystalline’s eyes slowly floated down towards the tiny, superficial cut on her cheek.

The two unicorns stood there in silence, motionless. Crystalline was the first to break frozen moment; as the flying machine swung by for another pass, her head turned towards it.

Another flash of light, and she was gone. Shining Armor saw a wisp of purple and white appear on the lowered ramp of the flying machine before it flew out of view.

He stared into the sky in shock.

Did she really just retreat over that tiny little cut?

The gray unicorn was not happy.

“Why did you stop?!” he roared at Crystalline, stomping on the floor of their transport. She could almost see the smoke rising from his ears. “You were winning! He couldn’t land a hit on you!”

“He did land a hit on me,” Crystalline countered, pointing to the cut on her cheek.

“That tiny little scratch?” the stallion hissed. “Are you kidding me? You stopped fighting because of a scratch?”

“He’s armored, I’m not,” she retorted. “Against a pony like that, one mistake and I’m dead.” She sighed. “Look, commander, you told me to fight him because I’m better than you, so maybe you should trust my assessment of the situation over your own.” The gray unicorn growled and snorted, but said nothing in response, so Crystalline continued. “I’m a mercenary, so that means I’m not eager to die for money I won’t be able to spend. Especially when we have alternative options.”

The stallion’s face took on an expression of wariness. “Oh, don’t give me that look,” Crystalline said. “Although, I do find it amazing that this whole ‘giant invasion’ thing was a better-kept secret than the fact that you had turned a couple changelings to your side.” She smiled at the gray unicorn’s surprised look. “Go on, get your changeling friend. I think we can figure out a better plan than ‘Send everypony onto the train and kill anypony onboard.’”

“Ma’am, I’m afraid military regulations do not allow civilians to take part in combat operations,” the Solarium guard said.

Twilight pawed at the ground and snorted, annoyed. They had managed to find a small forward command post in a plaza on the western side of the city, hastily-assembled out of prefabricated wall pieces and with a mobile shield engine projecting a translucent cyan bubble overhead. Unfortunately, her attempts to offer help had all been rebuffed by the soldiers standing watch at the gates.

The guard sighed. “You aren’t leaving, are you?” Twilight shook her head. “Fine, fine. I’ll take you to the commanding officer, maybe he can talk some sense into you.” He tapped his spear on the shield, and a small hole opened up in the barrier that allowed them to pass through.

The commanding officer was a unicorn stallion dressed in elaborate white-and-gold armor, standing on top of a large platform levitating a pair of binoculars to his eyes. He was not happy to see two civilians in the middle of his command post.

“Look,” Twilight tried to explain, “you don’t understand, we’re-”

“I don’t care if you’re the Supreme Commander’s uncle!” the officer barked. “You aren’t trained, you have no idea how things work around here, and you’re just going to get in the way. I don’t want to have my mares and stallions trying to protect you from hurting yourself while you’re out there playing hero.” His eyes glanced over to Twilight’s injured shoulder. “And it looks like you already have. I’ve got two platoons that tried to reactivate the shield array pinned down by pegasi and Manhattanites rolling through every defensive line we’ve got, I do not have time to argue with you.” He turned to the guard. “Private, escort these two ladies to the medical tent and get them patched up and out of this FOB ASAP.”

And that was the end of that. Twilight wanted to keep arguing, but she could see it would be just a waste of everypony’s time. Fuming, she allowed herself to be escorted to the back of the command post, where a white tent with massive red plus signs had been erected.

Other Twilight seemed relieved that the commander had rejected them, but then her face grew curious. “Hey,” she whispered, nudging Twilight with her head. “Why don’t any of these soldiers accuse me of being a changeling like you did?”

“Solarium believes that the changelings are their loyal little pets,” Twilight whispered back grumpily. “They probably just assume we’re twins.”

Other Twilight opened her mouth to ask another question, but right then half a dozen artillery rounds impacted against the top of the shield with deafening, percussive noise. Twilight looked up; the shield was already beginning to crack. Shouts erupted across the plaza and several unicorns tried to shore up the shield with their own magic, while a twin-barreled tank the size of a house rolled up to the western wall, its guns pointing down the street.

There were more impacts, and the shield gave way. One shell smashed through the platform the officer Twilight had just spoken to had been on and hit the ground, blasting bits of stone all over the plaza and sending a cloud of gray dust rising into the air. The shield finally fell apart completely, fragments of solidified magical energy dispersing and raining down upon the ponies beneath.

A tremulous rumble drew Twilight’s attention to the western barrier—a huge, grayish-green shape was rolling down the street. Though its form was crude and blocky, the silhouette nevertheless did not fail to convey the appearance of a dragon with its mouth open.

Twilight stared down the black, circular maw within its throat as it opened. A cry rang out over the plaza.

“FLAME TANK!”

Light burst forth from deep within the maw. The other Twilight reflexively threw up a shield up around them, but Twilight knew that it would be useless against the artificial dragonfire of the flame tank. She grabbed her other self and teleported into an alleyway, a cone of emerald flame washing over where they had been only moment before. Metal sagged and glowed red, stone and concrete softened. What screams there might have been were drowned out by the roar of the flames.

“Th- thanks,” Other Twilight stammered out, gazing in awe at the power of the emerald flames.

Twilight shuddered at how close they had just come to death. The dragonfire from the Manehattanite tank might have been artificial, but that didn’t make it any less deadly.

The flame tank charged forward, turning on its axis to spread its fires as far as they would go. At the same time the Solarium tank at the north end of the plaza awoke. Its turret swiveled, and its guns lowered to lock onto the Manehattanite machine. Rotational energy stored in flywheels fed back into long cylinders of runestone spinning inside the barrels. Telekinetic energy spiked, and twin deafening booms burst forth as slugs of metal broke the sound barrier. The first shot deflected off the Manehattanite tank’s sloped armor, but the second penetrated through the top. The Manehattanite tank cranked to a stop as orange flames spewed from its new hole; a pair of ponies hastily crawled out a hatch on the top.

Twilight had seen enough. “Come on,” she muttered to her other self, heading deeper into the alley.

Other Twilight was confused. “Where are you going?”

Twilight glanced to the sky. “As long as the shield array is down, the enemy can come into the city whenever they want. So we need to get that shield array back up.”

“Uh...” Other Twilight stopped. “Why aren’t we leaving that to the army?”

“You heard that officer,” Twilight replied, turning around. “The ponies that tried were pinned down by pegasi.”

Other Twilight’s eyebrows drew together in a worried expression. “So, what makes you think we can do it?”

Twilight sighed and looked at the ground, her ears drooping. “I don’t know.” Then her eyes widened and her ears perked back up. “Unless...”

“What?”

Twilight turned to the right, staring at the wall. “The conduit. The one that was delivering energy to the Harmony Project. That thing has a control node. I might be able to reconfigure that to send an activation signal to the shield array...” Her voice trailed off, and she snapped back around to face her other self. “The Manehattanites might not know about that control node! We can do this, we just need a way to get there without being found out!”

“Uh...” Other Twilight smiled uneasily, ears flattened against her head. Twilight didn’t notice.

“Come on, let’s go!”

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Intro to Rune Engineering (Second College Edition)
Introduction (excerpt)

The nature of rune engines lends them an extremely effective design. Any multi-core system that has multiple telekinetic matrices can run itself virtually indefinitely by using the telekinesis spell of one matrix to spin the cores of another. Furthermore, they generate no pollution and typically only require infrequent maintenance on the bearings and gears. And because telekinesis spells can be used remotely, they are capable of moving parts that are not directly connected to the engine itself. For these reasons, rune engines have largely replaced steam engines, but because steam engines enjoy a much higher power-to-size ratio for relatively small engine volumes, they are still the primary power source in situations where a large power source is needed and space is limited, particularly trains. This power-to-size problem has been the primary concern of rune engineers for the past two centuries, and little progress has been made.

A simple explanation for this phenomenon is described here which will be elaborated on in detail in Chapter 7. Because runestone acts as a perfect conductor for magical energy, the energy of a cylinder as determined by its total mass collects entirely on the surface of the cylinder; this energy then determines the strength of the Tock Field emitted by the cylinder. Because volume increases exponentially faster than surface area as mass increases, more energy is concentrated in a smaller area in larger engines than smaller ones, resulting in a stronger Tock Field, and therefore greater generation of magical energy. The end result is that rune engines become exponentially more powerful as they grow larger and machines running on rune engines are at their most efficient when they are extremely large. This is the primary force behind the ballooning sizes in vehicles in the past century; a quick comparison shows that the average volume of tanks and ships more than tripled between the First and Second Rune Wars.

This phenomenon has frustrated attempts to miniaturize rune engines for centuries. Although it is entirely possible to create a rune engine that can be carried on a pony, such an engine outputs less magical energy than an average unicorn. Although so-called “mini-engines” have enjoyed use as toys by non-magical ponies and can be used to supplement a unicorn’s natural magical talent, they are ultimately of limited practicality in industrial or military applications.

Chapter 4: Awe

“The closest thing to a strategy Solarium’s ever used when it encounters a military problem is something along the lines of, ‘Build another tank, but bigger this time.’”
- Frozen Thought, Manehattan General

When the draft notice had came and she had taken the pre-basic training exam, the sergeant who reviewed the results had taken off her glasses and told her, “Young lady, you have the lowest scores out of any recruit I have ever seen or heard of. In fact, I would bet that you have the lowest scores in not only the history of Cloudsdale, but in the entire history of Equestria.”

So they threw her in the medical corps, and Fluttershy was ok with that.

In her white vest and cap emblazoned with thick red plus signs, she stuck out like a sore thumb in the field of combat. Which was the entire point, of course, as it was a war crime to attack a medic while they were doing their duty. Though ponies might have taken to violence, they never forgot that on the other side were ponies too—with thoughts and feelings, hopes and dreams. Not like the brief but traumatic time Equestria had dueled with the gryphons. Still, war crime or not, the reality of war meant medics did get hurt like the rest of the army.

All in all though, Fluttershy considered herself relatively lucky. The explosions and screams of war frightened her, the sight of blood and corpses terrified her, but she was able to find strength in the knowledge that she was helping ponies in dire need. Drifting over the besieged city with her first aid bags like a calm leaf in a thunderstorm, her eyes roved, her ears attentive to the call.

“Medic!”

Heavy cuts across back, rubble in wound.

Fluttershy did not much care for who she tended to; a hurt pony was a hurt pony. She couldn’t care less about the clash of ideologies that started the war.

“Medic!”

Possible concussion, looks like internal bleeding, bad burns across the chest and face.

Her focus on her job was absolute. Distraction was fatal; every second counted. Not only that, but Fluttershy knew that if she let herself pay too much attention to the explosions and destruction, she would become much too afraid to do anything but cower.

“Medic!”

Heavily injured limb, probably need to amputate. Extreme blood loss, need to stop bleeding-

Too late.

“Medic!”

The cries were endless, and there was no time to pause and mourn the lost. Medics saw the worst in war, and there was no shortage of moments where Fluttershy wanted nothing more than to run away and hide. But she just went to the next one, and the next one, and the next one—always flying, always trying to help, even when there was little she could offer except kind words.

So it came as a complete surprise when she suddenly found herself with no pony to go to.

Confusion began to set in, but then Fluttershy remembered what she had seen of the battlefield, high in the sky. The Manehattanite forces were advancing in two waves; an advance line consisting of infantry and tanks was rolling over the beleaguered Solarium defenders, while a second line of support troops and artillery followed. In between was a no-mare’s land. If Fluttershy flew a mile east or west, she’d soon run into a wall of Manehattan and Cloudsdale forces.

The sounds of combat were distant and intermittent, so Fluttershy took the opportunity to rest and land. Walking through the streets, she let her eyes wander, admiring Solarium architecture. The city lacked the natural spaces filled with plants and animals that she preferred, but she still liked the intricate designs of the structures; the buildings seemed alive, in a mechanical way—spinning, twisting, glowing. There was no shortage of light; even though it was three hours past midnight Fluttershy had little difficulty seeing.

Loud whispers drifted down the street. Fluttershy suppressed the urge to squeak and ducked into an alleyway.

“Ew ew ew, this is so disgusting...” one voice said.

“Get over it, will you?” the other whispered. Fluttershy tilted her head; the two voices sounded exactly the same. “If I can handle it so can you.”

“But why?”

“I told you! Combat by non-uniformed ponies is prohibited by the Hoofington Convention! And besides, we might get attacked by our own side!”

“But... but...” The first voice made a whining noise. “Did we really have to take these off a dead guy?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Those don’t sound like soldiers, Fluttershy thought, poking her head out from behind the building. She couldn’t see anypony in the street, despite the voices sounding relatively close.

“Hey! Somepony’s there!”

Fluttershy involuntarily squeaked; she felt her entire body lift into the air and hover in the middle of the street. She looked around wildly, but still couldn’t see any pony that could have been casting the spell.

That’s when the space before her eyes shimmered. The air seemed to part like curtains, revealing two lavender unicorns in black-and-white chestplates two sizes too large for them.

Fluttershy stared. Not only had she never seen an invisibility spell before, but she had also never seen two ponies that looked so... identical. Even twins usually had slightly different cutie marks. The only thing that distinguished one from the other were a pair of elaborate-looking multi-functional glasses.

“Fluttershy?” the non-glasses-wearing unicorn asked.

Both Fluttershy and the other unicorn turned to her in surprise. “You know her?” the bespectacled unicorn asked.

The first one nodded. “She’s one of my best friends!”

The bespectacled unicorn glanced back at Fluttershy with a quizzical expression. “Well, whoever she is, she’s not the pony you know.” Fluttershy suddenly felt her body drop to the ground. The unicorn bit her lip in consternation. “Maybe I can knock her out for a few hours if I hit her on the head hard enough.”

“What? No!” the other pony cried, apparently having forgotten about whispering. “You can’t do that! Fluttershy wouldn’t hurt a fly! She’s the kindest, gentlest pony you could ever meet!”

“She’s an enemy,” the bespectacled unicorn retorted, pointing a hoof at the Cloudsdale emblem on Fluttershy’s vest. “And if she tells her friends we’re here, we’re dead.”

“Fluttershy wouldn’t do that!” The other unicorn turned to the yellow pegasus. “Would you, Fluttershy?”

Fluttershy had no idea how this strange mare knew her name or could say anything about her being kind and gentle, but it was obviously in her best interests to agree. She eagerly nodded. “See?” the purple unicorn said.

The bespectacled unicorn stared at her twin as though she had suffered a terrible head injury. Finally she answered slowly, “It’s too risky. She’s not the pony you know, and we can’t trust her.”

“Umm...” The noise Fluttershy made drew the gazes of both unicorns, and she immediately shrunk back. “Excuse me.. if it’s not too much trouble I mean... maybe you could take me prisoner?” She smiled sheepishly.

The unspectacled unicorn turned to her partner in expectation. Her twin groaned. “It’d be way too much trouble to drag along a prisoner with us on a stealth mission.”

“I promise I’ll be really, really quiet,” Fluttershy said. “I’m really good at it—I mean, you have no idea how good I am at being quiet!”

The glasses-wearing pony groaned again, rubbing her forehead, and Fluttershy’s gaze fell upon the unicorn’s wound.

“Excuse me, but... may I see your shoulder?” she asked.

The injured unicorn looked at her suspiciously for a few seconds, but grudgingly offered her limb.

One glance at it was enough. “Oh my, this is no good,” Fluttershy said, shaking her head. “This wound hasn’t been cleaned properly, there’s a good chance it will get infected. And whoever did the stitching did a very bad job, and you probably didn’t need the stitches anyways..”

The bespectacled unicorn glanced at her twin, who grinned embarrassedly. Fluttershy set her saddlebags onto the ground and took out her equipment. First she applied a small amount of local anesthetic to the shoulder, then cut away and removed the stitches. Then she carefully cleaned and disinfected the wound, and finally applied a large bandage.

“There, that should do it,” Fluttershy told the unicorn. “The anesthetic should wear off in an hour, but try not to strain that shoulder too badly.” She stepped back and saw suspicion, but also grudging respect in the unicorn’s eyes.

“Come on,” the other pony said, smiling calmly. “If you’re anything like me, I know you don’t want to hurt a defenseless pony.”

The bespectacled unicorn shook her head, defeated. “Fine...” Her expression then turned deadly serious, and she jabbed a hoof into Fluttershy’s chest. “But if you do anything to compromise our mission in any way whatsoever, I swear on my father’s grave that I will kill you without hesitation. Understand?”

Fluttershy nodded quickly, breathing a sigh of relief.

The other unicorn’s mouth dropped, her face a mixture of surprise and horror. “Wait, your dad’s-”

“Not the time.” The bespectacled unicorn snapped annoyedly, her eyes glanced down the street. “The control node should be about two more blocks from here. Let’s go make up for lost time.”

As Shining Armor stepped out of the train and into Starlight Station, he half-expected a small army to burst out from behind a wall or something. But the train station was empty, and the only sounds were distant, muffled shouting and the wind.

That wouldn’t last for long. The flying machine, after having disappeared for several minutes, now flew over again and began to descend onto the plaza outside.

“Go!” Shining Armor shouted, and the four ponies took off at full gallop. They were halfway across the plaza when the aircraft lowered its boarding ramp and six unicorn Rangers rushed out.

Shining Armor spotted a fragile-looking column on one of the buildings lining the street they were heading towards, more for decoration than for actual structural support. “Keep going!” the commando yelled to the other three ponies, sliding to a stop and spinning around. His horn glowed, and using as much force he could muster, he pulled at the top of the column, causing it to tip over and fall onto the road.

He didn’t stop to view the results of his handiwork, but instead took off after the Lord Magister. Behind him, three of the Rangers skidded to a stop and powered on their horns, lifting the column back into place, while the other three ran past their compatriots.

Their destination was just up ahead: a small, unassuming furniture store nestled between two large towers. Spear Shot magically opened the door as they rushed inside, then slammed it shut again with a dull thud. He didn’t bother locking it again; an ordinary door wouldn’t stop the Rangers for longer than it took to lock it. They went down the stairs and into the basement, where they encountered a long, dark tunnel that sloped down into the depths of the mountain.

“Go on,” Shining Armor said to his friends, gesturing to the tunnel. “I’ll hold them off.”

The other three ponies looked back at him. “No!” Twinblade said.

Spear Shot kneed Twinblade in the ribs. “Orders are orders.” He looked Shining Armor in the eyes. “Good luck.”

Taking a deep breath, Shining Armor turned around and faced the empty basement, taking the precious few moments he had to prepare himself. One by one, the Rangers descended the stairs. Having seen what Shining Armor could do, they were wary, and spread out in a line on the far side of the room. One of them found the light switch.

Shining Armor flicked out one of his blades and dragged the tip across the floor. Sparks flew into the air and scattered onto the ground, glowing for but brief, ephemeral flashes. A clear line was carved into the concrete behind which he stood. His eyes burned with determination, and his next words echoed deeply off the walls, lingering in the air for long seconds.

“Any one of you who passes this line today, dies.”

His eyes pierced through the darkness at the Rangers. A long, motionless moment passed in which the seven ponies shared in the calm before the storm. Then one of them tipped their spear, a tiny, twitching little motion, only just barely noticeable to the untrained eye.

Shining Armor charged, and battle was joined.

“Could somepony please explain to me why a mere Battle Commander is directing the defense of Solarium?” a tall, brown unicorn mare asked as she entered the command center.

Battle Commander Oversight rose from his tactical map. “Secretary-General,” he greeted the mare as she looked down upon him, sternly judging him through her spectacles. A twinge of nervousness ran down his spine. “Neither General Ironside nor General Blazewing could be located,” he explained, “leaving me the ranking officer here in the HQ. My sincerest apologies, but my support team and I shall direct the defense of Solarium to the best of my ability.”

The Secretary-General’s expression was unreadable, and Oversight felt like he was melting under her gaze. Finally, she spoke. “A satisfactory answer.” There was just the slightest hint of a nod. “Although I imagine this is quite different from the chair of a dominator engine.”

Oversight had to stop himself from breathing a sigh of relief. To get any kind of gesture of approval at all from her was a miracle; the running joke was that one of the job requirements of being Secretary-General was having no soul. “It’s not all that different, ma’am,” he replied. That was a complete lie, of course, but if it made her feel more confident in him, it was better than the truth.

“Very well, then, please continue,” the brown mare said, then moved back to a corner of the room.

Oversight turned his attention back to the tactical map. The grid-like pattern of Solarium’s streets were laid out before him, along with the grass fields beyond the outer walls. Simple metal blocks with letters hastily scrawled in green or red marker were arrayed in clumps, representing fighting groups.

The situation was desperate. Although Solarium ran a series of defensive fortifications all across the Chaos Mountains and scattered throughout the plains between the mountains and Solarium, the city itself was only lightly garrisoned. It had been assumed that any assault capable of posing a threat to the city would be spotted long before it was within range of besieging the capital. It had also been assumed the city’s static defenses that had been built into the outer wall were more than enough to handle any army capable of sneaking in range of the city.

And, as the Solarium military had just had hammered into its collective brain, assumptions were deadly in war. They had never counted on an advance force of pegasi disabling the shields on the western side of the city by cutting the conduits for remote activation and smashing the manual controls while the static defenses were down. Nor had they counted half a division’s worth of forces emerging from camouflaged netting designed to look like grass and then suddenly storming into the city. How the Manehattanites managed to get tanks and artillery across the mountains without being noticed, Oversight did not know.

The bulk of the enemy forces were still outside the city; the western gate provided an effective bottleneck. But that wouldn’t last for long; already artillery was taking a toll on the barrier wall, and soon the city would be flooded with enemies. The forces that already were in the city were rolling over the unprepared Solarium defenders like the tide against a sand castle.

They needed to get those shields up, and they needed reinforcements. If Oversight were honest with himself, he was completely out of his element here; his typical role as a ‘Battle Commander’ was really just to be a glorified messenger. But when half of the high command had been killed or grievously injured by changeling assassins and the other half were off inspecting distant fortifications or conducting secret training exercises, that put an inexperienced scrub like Oversight in charge.

“Lieutenant.” The Secretary-General suddenly addressed Oversight’s communications officer.

“Yes, Madam Secretary?” the pink unicorn replied.

“Have you made contact with the 2nd Armor Division yet?”

“Uh...” the communications officer glanced at a small blue flame burning merrily in a large bowl on her desk. “I’m afraid I don’t have the codespell for their messenger fire, Madam. They’re on a classified training exercise aren’t they?”

“Allow me, then,” the Secretary-General replied, summoning a quill and scroll to herself. The quill danced across the paper in long, flowing strokes, and the brown mare then furled up the scroll and threw it into the fire.

It was roughly twenty seconds until the reply jumped out of the flames. The pink unicorn magically unrolled the scroll, her eyes flickering rapidly across the page.

“They say they were alerted to the attack two hours ago,” she reported, “and have been en route ever since, ETA 1 hour 20 minutes.

“I’ve ordered them to be placed under your command,” the Secretary-General said.

Oversight stared at her in astonishment. “You’re giving me command of an entire division? Ma’am?”

“You’re the one with boots on the ground, Commander,” the brown mare replied. Oversight might have been imagining things, but her voice almost carried a tone of kindness. “Inexperienced and possibly incompetent as you are, you are nevertheless the one with an understanding of the tactical situation. I may be just a civilian, but I have the authority to make such a decision, and I have made it.”

Oversight paid no attention to the minor insult—the vote of trust the Secretary-General had just given him was compliment enough. He turned to the communications officer. “What are we getting?”

The officer was smart enough to interpret the vague question. She glanced down the scroll. “One hundred Leviathan superheavy tanks, with support vehicles, scout forces, and artillery, a platoon of shock troopers.” Her eyes widened. “... and a Princess...”

Oversight nearly choked on his own saliva. He laughed, out of both embarrassment and at the ludicrousness of the situation. Really? They’re putting me in charge of that?

The communications officer’s report had been heard by everyone in the room. In an instant, the atmosphere of the command center had changed. No longer was their battle a desperate struggle to prevent themselves from being overwhelmed; now it was just a matter of holding out and minimizing damage until the hammer came down.

“Alright,” Oversight said, smiling as he returned to his tactical map. “Let’s show these Free-Staters what Solarium’s made of.”

Hundreds of Solarium tanks were rolling across the distant hills, looking like a swarm of migrating white scarabs through Applejack’s binoculars. “Horseapples!” she cursed, putting the binoculars on the floor of the rowboat and turning to her partner. “Bonnie, we gotta get a message to General Greenblade! There’s an armor column comin’ down from the north!”

“But we’re not unicorns!” Bonnie pointed out, gesturing to the messenger fire. “We can’t change the codespell on the fire!”

Applejack raised the binoculars to her eyes again, peering at the armor column. As they came out from behind the mountain in an endless line, she saw something that made her blood freeze.

Slowly, Applejack put the binoculars back down, blinking and shaking her head in disbelief. My eyes gotta be playin’ tricks on me, she thought, bringing up the binoculars once more.

They weren’t. Applejack snorted aggressively. “Well, there’s nothin’ else for it then. We’ve gotta send it the hard way.”

Bonnie stared at her. “But that’s a twenty-minute run at full gallop!”

Applejack leapt out of the rowboat and swam the short distance to the shore. “I’ll do it in ten!” she called after shaking herself dry. She looked back at the boat. “Put out the fire, Bonnie, it’s a dead giveaway out here!”

Bonnie glanced at the messenger fire. “But...”

“We don’t need to send no more letters anyways, Bonnie! Just do it before they-”

Just then a light tank crested over the nearby hill, perhaps drawn by the sound of the shouting. Upon spotting the enemy vehicle Bonnie hurriedly tried to dump the bowl of magical flames into the river, but it was already too late. The tank’s turret swiveled towards her, and the rowboat exploded in a plume of water droplets and splinters.

“BONNIE!” Applejack screamed.

A faint, gurgled cry came from the water. “I’m alright!” Applejack glimpsed the yellow pony struggling to stay afloat. “Don’t worry about me, just go!”

That was all Applejack needed. Bursting immediately into a full gallop, she raced up the river’s slope. Her orange coat stuck out like a sore thumb against the brown mud and green grass. The light tank’s turret swiveled again, and the hillside behind her spat clumps of dirt and grass into the air. Fortunately for Applejack, no pony in Equestria had yet developed a spell to making aiming easier.

She crested the hill and leapt over to the other side, beyond the angle of attack of the Solarium tank. Her relief lasted about a millisecond before she looked up onto the next hillside.

Roughly a dozen more light tanks, likely an advance scout force for the main column, were rolling across the hillside. Applejack froze motionless, eyes wide, ears pressed against her skull, as half a dozen cannons swiveled towards her.

“Ah, shit.”

As the hill around her exploded, Applejack lowered her head, and ran.

Adrenaline pumping, ears ringing, eyes stinging—she couldn’t tell if she was injured or even if she was dead. The thunderous roar of the cannon barrage and the biting pain of rocks and dirt pelting her skin faded into a mental fog. In that moment, Applejack was overwhelmed by a single, crystalline concept that became her entire being, as though her entire existence up to this point had been leading up to this single transformation into a higher plane of focus.

Run.

And Applejack ran. She ran without thinking, without direction, without purpose. Hill after hill after hill, one leg after the other—front left, front right, back left, back right.

It took her a long time to notice that the world around her had stopped exploding. At the top of the next hill she stopped to catch her breath, her heart feeling as though it were about to explode out of her body, her chest swelling and shrinking like a balloon. The adrenaline had not yet worn off; exhaustion had not set in, but Applejack was beginning to notice aches and scratches all over her body, and the wind blowing through the top of her head told her that she had lost her hat. Ah, well, ya win some ya lose some. She took the chance to look behind her.

Light tanks, as speedy and nimble as they were by tank standards, could not keep up with a pony in full gallop. The Solarium division had given up trying to pursue her with tanks, but instead there were now two pegasi flying over the previous hill. Applejack would have sworn, but she didn’t have the breath.

Just one more hill, she told herself. Just one more. She dashed down the slope and up the next. To her great surprise, the city of Solarium loomed before as she crested the hill; its spiraling towers, its white fortress walls, even the imposing form of the Solar Engine that dominated the skyline.

There was a flash of green light that forced her to blink, and suddenly two unicorns, wearing elaborately-decorated armored suits that covered their entire bodies and portable rune engines on their backs, appeared out of nowhere in front of her.

Shock troopers! Applejack felt magical energy envelop her as her body was lifted helplessly into the air. One of the shock troopers extended an electrified blade from his hoof armor and nonchalantly walked towards her. To have come so far and made it so close...

“BUCK YOU!” Applejack screamed, twisting her body around as her legs coiled like a spring. By sheer luck, excellent aim, his’s overconfidence, or some combination of the three, the mighty kick connected with the armored pony’s face, sending him reeling back into his partner, the two of them falling over like bowling pins.

The spell holding her in the air disappeared, and Applejack wasted no time in racing down the hill as fast as her legs could carry her. The two pegasi plunged down to catch her, their bladed wings carrying death. But the ground behind Applejack exploded again, and this time it was the Manehattanite cannons blasting away.

The Solarium pegasi suddenly thought better of their pursuit, and the rest of Applejack’s run was free and clear.

A light gray pegasus landed next to Applejack as she finally reached one of the tanks that had been providing cover fire. “Dude!” he shouted by way of greeting. “I saw that whole thing! That was amazing!” His eyes were suddenly drawn to what was on Applejack’s forehead—or rather, what wasn’t on it. “And you’re an Earth pony? Flaming cola rain, that makes what you just did like, ten times as awesome!”

“I... have... a message,” Applejack managed to gasp out between breaths, “for... General... Green... blade...” Her body finally gave out on her, her limbs collapsing like broken toothpicks, the side of her face meeting soft, cold dirt.

“Dude, I will carry you the rest of the way,” the pegasus said, hooking his forelegs beneath Applejack’s shoulders and lifting her into the air.

“Th... thanks...”

General Greenblade was directing the battle from on top of a rather impressive-looking two-barreled tank. “What’s the meaning of this?” he asked as the pegasus flew in, half out of annoyance at being interrupted, half out of curiosity at the unexpected sight.

“This little Earth pony just ran through about two dozen light tanks shooting at her and fought off a squad of shock troopers,” the pegasus explained, beaming as he let Applejack down on the roof of the tank. “And she says she has a message for you.”

Greenblade’s bushy eyebrows disappeared into his unkempt white hair. “Well then,” he said slowly, clearly not entirely believing what his ears were hearing, “we’d better hear what she has to say.” He poked the orange mare with a hoof, who was sitting hunched over with face towards the ground. “I hope you’re here to herald the opening of the gates of Tartarus or something.”

Applejack lifted her head, eyes spinning as she took a few more seconds to breathe and assert herself. Finally she straightened and looked Greenblade in the eyes. “General, there’s a Solarium armor column comin’ in from the north, at least 500 vehicles strong.”

Greenblade frowned, eyes flashing back and forth as he quickly incorporated the new information into his battle plan. “Well then,” he said, turning to his communications officer. “Time to pack up. Sound the general call for retreat. Tell them to leave the heavy tanks and artillery crews here; their orders are to fight to the last mare—cause as much damage as possible.”

Applejack’s eyes widened. “You’re leavin’ them here to die?”

Greenblade snorted, evidently amused by the fact that he had to elucidate things for a greenhorn. “This entire assault was a sacrificial play,” he explained. “We came here to accomplish a specific objective and deal as much damage as we could while we were at it.” He smiled. “But at thanks to you, we might not have to take as heavy losses as we expected.” He turned around to bark at another subordinate. “Let’s get the package out of here before we all get run over by tanks.” He patted Applejack on the head. “I think you deserve a ride back to Manehattan, hmm?”

“Thank you sir,” Applejack replied, managing a feeble salute before fainting.

The western conduit controls were located in the basement of the Solarium sewage maintenance headquarters. Though small and unassuming by Solarium standards, in typical fashion for the City of Motion, it was covered in dazzling arrays of lights that blinked in sweeping, flowing movements. Or at least they would have, had the building not been struck by a stray artillery shell. The slug of metal had blasted a small hole in the roof and penetrated all three floors before hitting the front wall and blowing a gaping hole in the sidewalk and marble facade. Any ponies who might have thought the building was a good place to hide had clearly been disabused of that notion, for the structure was empty. At least the hole in the wall made it easy to get in.

“Let us all hope very hard that the control node is still intact,” Twilight murmured as she hopped over the broken slabs of marble.

“Why are the controls in a sewer building?” Other Twilight asked.

“The conduit runs through the sewers,” Twilight explained. “Easier to keep it hidden that way.” She glanced back at the Cloudsdale medic. Twilight wasn’t quite comfortable with talking so freely in front of a prisoner, but Fluttershy was so timid and innocent that she couldn’t help but want to trust the pegasus.

That didn’t mean she did, though. “Stay up here and watch her,” she ordered her twin once they had found the staircase, then descended alone down into the basement.

The room, remarkably, still had power; several electric arc lamps lit up the dim basement. At first glance, the room held little more than a few desks and chairs and one door that led to the sewers, but Twilight knew from the last time she had been here that there was a set of six wooden switches hidden beneath the largest desk.

Unfortunately, she didn’t know the combination; the positioning of the levers meant that she hadn’t been able to watch the guard who had previously escorted her here pull them. But she knew, roughly, where the hidden door was. So she closed her eyes, telekinetically grabbed that portion of wall, and ripped it out.

Chunks of concrete gave way to wood paneling, and Twilight knew she had found it. Normally there would have been guards in place to kill anypony who attempted to simply force their way in like she just did, but they were all busy at the moment. Twilight strode through, using the light of her horn to find the light switch. The control console was on the far side of the room, attached to a gigantic metal pipe that she could have easily walked through had it been hollow.

A voice echoed from the top of the stairs. “How long is it going to take?” Other Twilight called.

“No idea!” Twilight shouted back. Having never done what she was about to try, there was no way to know how long it might take or even if it was possible. As she magically unscrewed and removed the panels covering up the console’s inner mechanisms, blueprints and algorithms flashed through her brain. The part of her that always kicked in when diving into the complex clockwork of rune matrices took over, and thoughts of the battle, her ruined project, even the room she was in faded away, overtaken by a trance-like state of mental calculation.

For a unicorn whose life was filled with unending stress and worry, this state was the closest to nirvana she ever got.

“There’s some soldiers in green armor coming!” Other Twilight shouted, her tone filled with worry, interrupting Twilight’s reverie.

“Get rid of them!” Twilight shouted back, angry at the disturbance.

“Wh- how?”

“I don’t know, just do it!” Twilight dived back into the machine.

Alright... I have to reverse the direction on the primary diode to allow energy flow in the opposite direction, then initiate a moderate-sized jolt to be interpreted as an activation order... but the low-voltage inhibitor blocks pulses below the maximum energy I need, so I’ll need to remove that... then I have to account for energy losses in the interpretation phase...

Her mouth creased into a frown as her horn began to glow, screws, nuts and bolts flying out from the inside of the console as she made the necessary adjustments. Each type of part was piled neatly on the floor in organized little stacks. Eventually she removed enough parts to get access to the main diode that acted as a one-way valve for the magical energy in the conduit. Taking a deep breath, she twisted the rounded-cylinder part out of the pipe and carefully levitated it towards her; some adjustments would have to be made before it could fit in the reverse direction.

So engrossed in her work was she that she didn’t hear hoofsteps on the steps. When a hoof tapped lightly against her shoulder she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“I did it!” Other Twilight exclaimed happily, completely failing to notice the moment of utter terror she had instilled in her twin. “Well, Fluttershy did it, I just went invisible while she convinced those mares that there was nothing here!”

Twilight blinked, looking around at the neatly-organized parts she had just scattered around, hoping very hard that she hadn’t just lost a screw or something. “Um, that’s... great! Thanks a, uh, ton!” she said half-heartedly, trying to remember where she had been before having the living daylights scared out of her.

“Oh, and I’m not sure if you heard,” Other Twilight continued, not noticing where Twilight’s attention was focused, “but there was this horn call. Fluttershy said it was the general retreat signal.”

“Um, ok,” Twilight replied, her twin’s words not really registering in her head. “Could you give me a sec? I’m almost done here.”

Her twin trotted back up the stairs, apparently still oblivious to how disruptive she had been to Twilight’s activities. Twilight turned back to the console.

Several minutes later, a few of which were spent searching for mysteriously-vanished screws, and it was done. Twilight lowered her head and touched the tip of her horn to an exposed input pipe. Summoning power, she released a jolt of magical energy into it.

A glowing purple pulse raced down the channel and into the main conduit, quickly vanishing out of view. Twilight rushed up the stairs, where her twin and Fluttershy stood gazing at the sky.

“Did it work?” Other Twilight asked, turning around to face her.

Twilight glanced out the hole in the wall. “Can’t tell.” She gestured with a hoof. “That way is east, so we can’t see the western wall from here. Let’s get up the roof.”

The trio climbed up the stairs; the topmost flight had collapsed, but fortunately there was a pile of rubble leading up to a hole in the ceiling. Fluttershy flew up first, and was able to help the two unicorns up from above.

The western edge of the city was now enveloped in a glowing, translucent, layer of crystallized magical energy. The shield wasn’t perfect; the translucent layer did not reach all the way up into the sky, leaving a gaping hole in the top that a pegasus could still fly through. A casual glance at the towers along the wall told Twilight that only two out of the five shield engines and none of the stationary turrets had activated, but even that was enough to resist bombardment for days, if not weeks.

“We did it!” she screamed, jumping into the air.

The other two ponies were not so overjoyed. Instead, they were staring into the distance. Twilight at first thought they were watching the retreating swarm of Manehattanite troops, but then Other Twilight pointed her hoof at something on the horizon. Something moving.

“What... is... that?” Other Twilight asked.

Twilight squinted at what Other Twilight was pointing at, lowering her glasses back into that makeshift binocular configuration. A wide, evil smile spread across her face.

“That,” she said, “is a Princess.”

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Solarium Strategic Direction Committee Report
New Weapons Development To Counter Heavy Fortifications
Introduction (Excerpt)

Although weapons technology improved greatly between the First and the Second Rune Wars, shield technology nevertheless remained ahead. To defeat the defenses of a single city during the Second Rune War required a prolonged assault by vastly-superior forces (often outnumbering defenders by margins of 8:1 or more) for sieges that could last for months at a time. The cost to the attackers in ammunition and morale, not to mention the dedication of such enormous resources to the attack on a single city, made city-sieging impractical, leading the stalemate that dominated much of the Second Rune War prior to the gryphon invasion.

It is clear to this committee that, if should the city of Solarium wish to engage in successful offensive operations against enemy fortifications, significantly more resources must be engaged in the creation of new weapons systems that are capable of destroying an enemy shield array. This document attempts to review several proposals and recommend a course of action to the legislature. In doing so, we have used the following as our main criteria:

- Feasibility: Such a weapons system must be deemed technologically reasonable to construct. The committee would like to remind lawmakers, however that this requirement allows for extremely large and ambitious systems as the resources that would be devoted to a typical multi-month siege are enormous.

- Effectiveness: Such a weapons system must be able to greatly reduce the length of time a siege would take. Because shields are magical in nature, they are far more effective at absorbing magical attacks, such as beam spells, than they are physical attacks, such as cannons. Our theoretical weapons system therefore should either be able to deliver an enormous amount of kinetic energy or be able to bypass the shield itself and disable the rune engine generating it.

- Mobility: Such a weapons system must be capable of being delivered to a fortification in a timely manner while being reasonably resilient to enemy attack.

The following sections detail our analysis of 9 systems proposed to the committee, followed by our recommendation on Solarium’s course of action as determined by the legislature, the Secretary-General, and the Supreme Commander.

Author's Note

I've went back and changed Applejack's "Ah" to "I", since, upon review, that is a silly way to convey her accent.

Also, a note on the use of the word "buck". I know a lot of people on Fimfiction frown on its use as a swear word, but I feel that only applies to its use as a replacement for the f-word. The way I'm using "buck" here makes perfect thematic and logical sense. Applejack is shouting, "buck you", and then proceeds to do exactly that: kicking the guy in the chest.

Chapter 6: Chaos Redux

“Discord is dead. Undoubtedly this news will be the cause of much rejoicing in ponies across Equestria. You, my daughter, must not join them. I give you now this one warning: Prepare. Though Discord’s death was a necessary first step, it will unleash a wave of chaos across our lands hitherto held in reserve only by his control. For Chaos is the natural order of things, and this victory is the only the first in our coming war against extinction.”
- The Diaries of Tick Tock, 2nd Centennial Edition

As the squadrons of flying machines cruised away from Canterlot, Crystalline gazed back through a small, circular viewport in the back of the transport, watching the city of her birthplace burn.

The damage the attack had done was only superficial, of course. The Manehattanite flying divisions could start fires and terrorize the populace, but they could not do any lasting harm to the city’s industry or military complexes. Canterlot was more fortress than city. Even though what was left of the original castle had since been swallowed by more recent construction, the newer buildings still kept to the same methods that the ancients had built Canterlot with. Every tower was a possible stronghold, every road and plaza a potential killing field—to say nothing of its impregnable position on the mountaintop. The fires would burn and the columns of smoke would rise into the night sky, but once all was said and done, all Manehattan had managed to do was make the old capital of Equestria hungry for vengeance.

A strange tension twinged through Crystalline’s chest, and it was a while before she recognized it as guilt. It had been many years since she had felt any loyalty to where she had grown up as a filly, but nevertheless the thought that she had participated in an event that may have threatened her family and old friends was disconcerting. Not that it would have mattered if she had refused to participate—the Manehattanites would have attacked with or without her.

Gradually, Canterlot grew smaller and smaller in her vision, until it was no more than a whitish speck on the mountain. Sighing, Crystalline tore her gaze away from it and hardened her heart. What was done was done. Now was the time to attend to more pressing concerns.

She walked past the Rangers to the front of the transport. Some of the Manehattanites were still tending the wounds they had received from Shining Armor. She opened the door to the cockpit and stepped inside, gazing out the windshield. The sun was rising on schedule, the sky turning from black to orange, and from that Crystalline surmised that any attack on Solarium that had been attempted had been defeated.

“We’ve got a nasty chaos storm ahead,” the pilot reported to the gray unicorn sitting in the chair next to him. “Looks like it’s blowing northeast from Central Yellow Zone.”

Crystalline noted the swirling mass of light-pink clouds in front of them. Chocolate rain poured down from the cotton candy thunderclouds, pooling into rivers that flowed into lakes. Below, the rolling hills were covered in the blue and purple checkerboard-patterns characteristic of the first stage of chaos infestation, what were referred to as “yellow zones”.

Once, the whole of Equestria had been like that. To restore the land back to green hills, white clouds, and clear water took huge amounts of magical energy. Two hundred years later, and most of Equestria was still marked by the legacy of Discord’s reign.

“The fleet is diverting south,” the pilot continued. He looked up. “Shall we follow, Captain Slice?”

Slice shook his head. “No. It makes sense for them to do it because they’re heading for Baltimare. But we need to get back to Manehattan.” He pointed a hoof to the right. “Go north, around the storm.”

The pilot nodded, and tilted his joystick to the left. The horizon angled as the vehicle banked towards the north. Crystallined watched the ground, taking note of a small lake of chocolate milk that they would pass over in the next couple of minutes.

Slice glanced over at Crystalline. “Did you need anything?”

Crystalline smiled. “Yes. I’d like my payment now, if you’d please.”

The gray unicorn snorted. “You can get it after we get back to Manehattan.”

“But I’d like it now.” Crystalline leaned forward. “Come now, we both watched your men bring it aboard. What’s the harm in giving it to me now as opposed to later?” She fluttered her eyes alluringly.

Slice sighed, seemingly in exasperation, but Crystalline could see a darker calculation in his eyes. “Fine. Come with me.” He stood up and walked out of the cockpit, Crystalline in tow.

“Hey!” the pilot called after them. “Close the door behind you!” When neither of the two unicorns responded, he simply grunted in annoyance and turned his attention back to flying.

They walked back into the main bay, past the Lord Magister who had been bound and gagged in the corner. Opening a large metal locker, Slice levitated out a saddlebag. Crystalline approached. Though her posture was relaxed, her muscles were tense, and her eyes alert. As the saddlebag floated towards her, she summoned a levitation spell of her own, and the dark blue aura surrounding the bag transformed into a purplish-pink one. With deliberate care she floated the bag around and onto her back. Though her gaze was fixed on the bag, her attention was focused on the gray unicorn in the corner of her eye. He was watching her carefully.

Crystalline tensed up. There was roughly a fifty-fifty chance of her prediction being wrong, and now was the moment of truth.

The bag came to a rest on her back. There was a blur of motion from the corner of her eye, and she instinctively ducked. A blade passed through the air where her head had been a moment before. Slice’s other hoof came stabbing towards her chest, and she jumped back.

And then everything was still again. Crystalline feigned surprise. “What is the meaning of this?” she cried.

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit,” Slice said, retracting his hoof-blade, his voice full of contempt. “You know that I know that the first thing you’re going to do once we get to Manehattan is to scurry back to Canterlot and give them all the intel you have on us.”

Crystalline glanced up at the ceiling. “Well, I wasn’t planning to...” That was true enough, though she’d be lying if she had said she hadn’t thought about it. Her voice purred deadly sweet. “But now that you’ve given me the idea...”

The other Rangers were getting up from their seats now, weapons drawn. “Don’t make this hard,” Slice replied. “There’s too many of us, and this is too confined a space for your teleportation to be of much use.”

Crystalline nodded. “You’re right. I surrender.” She bowed her head in supplication, making her long neck vulnerable to a quick killing blow.

The gray unicorn’s eyebrows lifted in surprise; he hadn’t been expecting her to actually give up. There was a moment’s hesitation, and that was all Crystalline needed.

She teleported through the open door into the cockpit and slammed it shut. Telekinetically swinging out the blades attached to her front hooves, she stabbed the pilot in the chest and sliced his throat with the other before he could react. Shoving his body aside, she then reached for the joystick and smashed it forward.

Crystalline had no idea how to fly the airplane, but she was smart enough to gather that muddling with the joystick would mess up their flight path. As she expected, the flying machine suddenly lurched forward. The ground began to fill the window very quickly.

There were several muffled thumps behind her as the other ponies slid forward and hit the other side of the cockpit wall. “ARE YOU INSANE?!” Slice screamed as he struggled to get the door open.

Crystalline didn’t have time for a witty one-liner. Turning around, she cemented her front hooves into the floor as best she could and bucked at the window with all her strength. The windshield was made of ordinary glass and shattered easily, jagged shards slicing into her legs. Crystalline ignored the pain and turned back around. Her eyes fell upon the lake from before.

She took a deep breath and summoned her strength. It was a long distance she had to teleport now, much longer than she was used to. Magical energy surged through her body and into her horn. Behind her, the door finally opened, and the Rangers rushed forward with killing intent.

There was a flash of light. Space-time twisted, and Crystalline felt her body smash into the surface of the pond. Pain exploded on her skin as she struggled to stay conscious.

Eventually it faded away, and her brain registered the fact that was she still alive. Alive, and mostly uninjured. She swam to the surface and took a deep breath as her head broke the surface. The vehicle she had jumped from had managed to pull out of its dive, but was now flying very erratically. She watched as it dipped and spun as the Rangers desperately fought to maintain control. For a moment it looked as though they might make it, and then they dove once more, finally crashing behind a hill.

Crystalline smiled. She had survived, and she had survived with her money. Lazily she paddled over to the shore of the pond and climbed onto it. She made a quick check of the contents of the bag; the gleam of gold confirmed that there had been no deception in the money, at least. Crystalline wouldn’t even have boarded the transport unless she had been sure her payment was onboard, after all.

She looked to the sky. Her mane was soaking wet and the chocolate milk would become very sticky as it dried. Hopefully she’d find some water to wash in on the way back to Canterlot. At a good pace, she might make it there by nightfall.

There was a single loud knock on the door of the hospital room before it swung open, revealing a nurse pushing an empty wheelchair. “Time to go,” the nurse declared.

Twilight Sparkle turned away from the window she had been staring at for the last ten minutes, her expression one of mild confusion. “Am I already healed?” She certainly didn’t feel healthy.

“No,” the nurse declared, bring the wheelchair up to the side of Twilight’s bed. “But you’re awake and you’re going to live, so that means there are a lot of ponies out there that need this bed more than you.” She offered her front hooves, her expression utterly unsympathetic. “Come.”

With the nurse’s help, Twilight pushed herself off the bed and into the chair, wincing as pain crackled in her chest. For the first time since entering the room, the nurse’s face softened. “Take it easy for the next couple of days, alright? Normally we’d be keeping you in here for at least a week. Don’t do anything too strenuous, and make sure to stay off your left rear leg.”

Twilight nodded. “Thanks,” she said, her voice full of sincerity. The nurse made to push the wheelchair, but Twilight waved her off. “I’ve got it.” Spinning the wheels with telekinesis, Twilight rolled herself out to the lobby.

The hospital lobby was filled with many wounded soldiers and their worried relatives who had spent the night here. Even amongst ponies, purple was not a very common coat color, so Twilight had little trouble spotting her twin curled up in a corner of the room. The other unicorn was sleeping peacefully in a pile of blankets. The sight gave her a calm feeling. Is that what I look like when I’m sleeping?

“Hey,” Twilight said, leaning forward from her wheelchair to shake the other pony. “Wake up, time to go.”

Other Twilight groggily sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Mornin’,” she mumbled sleepily, shaking off her slumber. She gazed at the wheelchair, and her expression turned worried. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, fine,” Twilight answered dismissively, then wheeled around and towards the door. “C’mon, we’ve got things to do.”

The skies were still dark outside, despite it approaching ten o’clock in the morning. Twilight frowned—it wasn’t like Solar Control to be late. They raised the sun on time yesterday, so what’s wrong today? Well, whatever it was, Twilight was certain they had good reason.

Once the two ponies were past the makeshift medical tents, the streets of Solarium looked much as they always did. One full day had passed since the attack and already things were getting back to normal. Ponies trotted across sidewalks, looking both ways before crossing the stone-paved streets where other ponies pulling carts and the occasional rune engine-powered car ran. Further away, the horn of a train blew. And on the distant northern horizon, Canterlot gleamed in the mountains as brightly as ever. Life went on in the City of Motion—the joint Manehattan-Cloudsdale attack had been stopped before doing any real damage to the infrastructure and citizens of the city. The defenses would be repaired, the buildings rebuilt.

Beneath the surface hustle and bustle, though, there was a grim atmosphere descending upon the city. Combat was nothing new to these ponies, of course. Even during times of peace there were always border skirmishes and assassinations. But for most of the young ponies that now lived across Equestria, full-scale warfare was something none of them had ever seen.

Twilight noticed none of this. Despite the fact that she had only been barely let outside the Harmony research complex to see the city, she wasn’t at all curious. Her mind dwelt fixedly on the events of last night, unable to get over her mistakes and her losses. The only thing she cared about now was getting back to work. Her time spent poring over maps of the city now came in handy as she navigated the streets.

Her twin, on the other hand, could not stop looking at the city. Her eyes dashed to and fro, every new sight bewildering and fascinating her. Eventually though, they came to rest on the wheelchair-bound pony in front of her. “Um,” Other Twilight said, breaking the silence that had lingered since they left the hospital. Her voice was slow, uncertain. “You said... you said your dad was dead?”

Twilight gave a long sigh, her eyes cast down towards the sidewalk. “Yeah.”

“How did it happen?”

Twilight closed her eyes and shook her head. “It’s... it’s...” She sighed again. “Alright, I’ll tell you.” Her eyes looked upwards. “There’s this mountain range called the Chaos Mountains that separates us from the Free-Staters. In those mountains is a pass, the only pass big enough to move an army through. And in there, at the bottom of this valley, was a big hill. And on that hill was a tree.”

She turned her head around to face her only audience member, who was looking understandably confused. “That tree, apparently, was a problem. It blocked the line of sight between two Canterlot outposts, so one could be attacked without the other outpost realizing it. So they decided that that tree had to go, and sent a squad to cut it down. The Free-Staters... didn’t like that.”

She paused for a moment, turning back around and staring down at the ground. Her voice was underlaid by a low, bitter growl. “There was a scuffle. And when the dust had settled, dad had a hole the size of a grapefruit in his chest.” Twilight raised her front hooves to show how big the hole was. “They tried to operate, but... he didn’t make it.”

Twilight shook her head, her teeth grinding together. “That tree. That damn tree. My dad died because of a stupid, bucking, tree!”

There was a sharp shriek of metal as her wheelchair suddenly lurched to a stop. Twilight looked down. The wheels had been crushed and the metal handles had been bent badly out of shape. Her anger evaporated, replaced by a sinking feeling as she tried to ignore the strange looks the other ponies in the street were shooting her. She sighed. “Oh, not again.”

“You’ve done this before?” the other Twilight asked.

“Kinda.” Twilight shook her head and groaned. “Great, now we have to go back to the hospital and explain why their wheelchair’s been destroyed.”

“It’s alright, I got it.” The other unicorn leaned down and pointed her horn towards the wheelchair. A purple aura surrounded the mangled wheels, and Twilight watched in amazement as they magically unbent themselves back into shape. “There, good as new!”

Twilight blinked. “That sure is... something.”

Other Twilight looked at her. “Never seen a repair spell before?”

Twilight shook her head. She looked at her twin, who shrugged. “Say... how many spells would you say you know?”

“Umm...” Other Twilight furrowed her brows, her eyes gazing off into the distance as she rubbed her chin. “I’d say... two hundred, give or take?”

Twilight almost fell out of her chair. “T- TWO HUNDRED?” she sputtered, causing heads to turn all around the two unicorns.

Other Twilight took a step backwards. “Uh...”

Twilight rubbed her head. “Flaming cola rain.” She looked into her twin’s confused eyes. “I know six.”

The second mare stared back for a few moments, then awkwardly chuckled. “Wow, uh... I don’t what to say.”

Twilight shook her head and started wheeling herself forward again. “Two hundred spells,” she muttered quietly. “I think all of Equestria put together might be lucky to know two hundred different spells.” She looked back at her twin. “You probably know more magic than my entire civilization.”

Once again they traveled in silence. The second Twilight found herself having to break into a slow trot to keep up with the wheelchair. “Why so few?” she finally asked.

“Lost,” Twilight responded. As if on cue, the street suddenly opened up into an intersection, the buildings on either side giving way to reveal Canterlot’s towers in the distant north. The two unicorns stared at the distant city. “Lost when Discord conquered Canterlot. When all the masters of magic either died or became his slaves, when every scroll in the archives was burned to ash. Knowledge and spells gathered over thousands of years, all gone forever. Until...” Twilight’s eyes turned back to her twin, sparkling with realization. Her voice softened into a whisper. “Until now.”

The other unicorn seemed to grow uneasy under her gaze. Twilight gave a small smile and turned back around. “Ah, we’re here!”

Before them was a large, rectangular building. It was built in a more traditional style of architecture and lacked the glowing lights and spinning contraptions of most Solarium buildings. Past a polished staircase, gleaming marble columns held up a beautiful vaulted roof over walls decorated with golden spirals and stars. At the bottom was nestled a grand wooden door.

Other Twilight blinked slowly. “Is this... what I think it is?”

Twilight smirked. “What do you think it is?”

“A library!”

Twilight nodded, smiling. “Yep. The Solarium Public Library. Third largest library in Equestria.” Her smile turned into a frown as she regarded the stairs. “Hmph.”

After a short period of consideration, she decided to teleport up to the door, wheelchair and all. Her twin was galloping up the polished steps, her face glowing as brightly as the marble. I think she likes libraries even more than I do, Twilight thought. That made her wonder. Twilight had blazed through school as fast as she could, becoming one of the youngest graduates of Canterlot University ever. But this other world must have reams more knowledge than hers did, thousands of years worth of magic more to learn. Was the other Twilight still in school, still just a student?

This was Twilight’s first time in the Solarium Public Library, so she asked a librarian to point her to the section she was after. Nestled deep in the back of the library were only two dusty shelves labeled “History.”

“Why don’t you go find a seat?” she suggested to the other Twilight as she started magically pulling books off the shelves and piling them in her lap. After that she wheeled around to the “Reference” and “Science” sections before finding her twin again, seated at a small table under a staircase.

“So,” Twilight began as she handed the unicorn a green encyclopedia edition, “there’s a lot for you to learn. I suggest beginning with The Comprehensive Canterlot Encyclopedia’s entry on the Rune Wars, and then you can look up stuff off of that.” She began piling more books in front of her. “Then there’s Collapse by Ink Blink, which is an excellent history of the post-Discord era up to the beginning of the Second Rune War. Antennae, Claws, and Unicorn Horns is a very vivid account of the Second Rune War that goes into great detail about the changelings and the griffons. Apples and Oranges has everything an average pony needs to know about economics and will give you some good insight into our culture, and The Structure of Scientific Revolutions will give you the basics on rune engines and how we think of magic in this world.”

And to top it all off, she threw a couple more books onto the stack. “And here’s some miscellaneous books, just in case you finish early. Sound good?”

Her twin had to bend around the pile of books to look back at her. “Wait, you aren’t going to explain any of this to me?”

“I’ve got things I need to get to,” Twilight said as she wheeled around and started for the door.

Other Twilight frowned as she gazed at the stack of books. “You only gave me books about history, though. What about now?”

Twilight turned back around, her expression confused. “What do you mean ‘now’?”

Her twin shoved the pile out of the way. “Why are you fighting this war? What’s so different between you ‘Imperialists’ and the ‘Free States’ that you have to kill each other?”

Twilight furrowed her brow. “How do you know about that?”

The other unicorn waved a hoof dismissively. “I talked to a lot of ponies while you were out. None of them had a good explanation. They all said stuff like ‘Either we win or we die,’ or ‘They just want our magic and technology.’” She glowered at Twilight. “If that’s all there is to it, then this war business is just... illogical! It makes no sense! Why fight each other over magic and technology?”

Twilight stared at the floor, deep in thought. “I’m not surprised they said things like that. This kind of stuff is more than the average pony cares to learn about.” She sat back in her wheelchair and sighed. “Alright then. There’s lots of reasons, but I’ll tell you the only one that matters.” She glanced at the “Science” section of the library. “Be right back.”

Her eyes scanned the shelves, looking at the names of authors. T... T... T... Aha! Wow, I didn’t really think they’d have it. When she got back, the other Twilight had cracked open the encyclopedia and was skimming through the opening entry on the Rune Wars. “Alright,” Twilight said, sliding a thin, plastic-bound paperback across the table.

Her twin flipped the book around and scanned the title, eyebrow raised. “Chaos Theory,” she read aloud, “... by Twilight Sparkle?”

Twilight nodded, taking a deep breath as she took the book back. Her expression was forlorn as she flipped the pages open to the middle. “This,” she said, sliding the book back to the other pony and gesturing, “is a map of Equestria today.”

Other Twilight peered at the map. “What’s with all the colored lines?”

Twilight looked down at the map in her book. The base was a standard map of Equestria—the mountains, the rivers, borders, and cities, the stuff you’d expect on any geographical map. There was Manehattan, Fillydelphia, and Baltimare on the east coast, as she was familiar with. But then Cloudsdale was off in the eastern ocean, and there was a huge mountain range cutting down the middle of Equestria. The Chaos Mountains. On the west of the mountains were Canterlot and then Solarium in the valley to the south. But overlaid on top of it all were scattered blotches of colored diagonal lines, like somepony had tried to shade the map with random, colored hatching.

“The lines represent chaos infestation,” she explained, pointing her hoof at each blotch as she spoke about them. “Each of these regions is called a ‘zone,’ and zones are classified into colors by the level of infestation. Green zones are clean and have no detectable chaos magic. Yellow zones are in the first stage of infestation, and then it goes up through red and black.”

Other Twilight looked fixedly at the map for a long while. Roughly a third of the map was green, divided into two great portions that lined the Chaos Mountains. Another fifty percent of the land area was yellow, and the rest was scattered splotches of red and little bits of black here and there, mostly centered around the mountain range that ran down the middle of Equestria.

However, there was something to the north of Equestria that didn’t fit any of the descriptions Twilight had given. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing a great solid black circle at the far top of the map. “That’s where the Crystal Empire should be...”

Twilight nodded. “Yeah. That’s where it was. If you go there now though, you won’t find much. That’s Ground Zero, where Tick Tock detonated his Chaos Engine with the Elements of Discord to kill Discord. And that’s where it all went wrong.”

Twilight looked away, her expression growing wistful and distant. “Chaos magic doesn’t work like normal magic. Normal magic needs something to supply it with energy. Chaos magic... it grows on its own.” She sighed. “Discord, when he was alive, held his chaos magic in check. But when he died, that stopped. All the chaos he caused around Equestria started growing when he died, and it would have gotten out of control long ago if we hadn’t stopped it.” She glanced back down at the map. “And the Chaos Engine released so much energy that some say that Tick Tock made things worse than Discord ever did.”

She paused. Her twin was staring at the map again. Gone was the glowering look that she had moments before. Her eyes were now dejected, her teeth biting her lower lip.

Twilight flipped the page. “This is Equestria fifty years ago.” Over half of the map was green, and the yellow was separated into little islands, with only the occasional splotch of red. She flipped the page twice in the other direction. “And this is Equestria as it will be fifty years from now.”

There was maybe a tenth of Equestria that was still green. The rest of it was covered in that sickly yellow, with scars of red and black running across it like dirty wounds.

Other Twilight opened her mouth ever so slightly. Twilight waited, seeing if she was going to say anything. When she didn’t, Twilight closed the book and turned her head to gaze out a distant window.

“Fifty years from now, there won’t be enough farmland to support our population. There will be mass starvation in every city. Ponies will die by hunger and thirst and disease by the hundreds of thousands. It’s already happened to the griffons.” She shook her head. “A hundred years from now, we’ll be reduced to nomadic tribes that wander through the yellow and red zones, looking for the few green zones still left. Three hundred years...” She looked back at her twin, glaring deep into the other pony’s eyes. “There will be no life left in this world.”

Other Twilight broke the gaze, staring down at her blurry reflection in the table. It was a long time before she could speak again, and when she did her voice was barely above a whisper. “So... why fight? Why not work together, to see if you can find a solution?”

Twilight tapped her hoof on the table in annoyance, though it was not at all directed towards the pony in front of her. “Because the ‘Imperialists’ think they have it all figured out. Our ‘top scientists’ have done the math, and they think that, at our current rate of technological progress and our resources, we can build enough rune engines to protect enough farmland to support our current population in Solarium, Canterlot, and Baltimare.” Twilight sighed sadly, leaning back in her wheelchair. “That’s about one-fourth of Equestria’s population. That means, if we go with their plan, three out of four ponies living today have to die.”

Twilight shook her head and looked away. “Well, as you can imagine, those three out of four ponies don’t take that very well. So they fight. They fight to try and steal our technology, our knowledge, our resources, so they can try and save themselves, so they can save everypony.” She sighed again. “But the truth is, if they do that—if they try to save everypony—then everypony will die.”

“But... then why...?”

Twilight slammed her hoof on the table, her voice echoing in the quiet of the library. “Because what else are they going to do? Of course they’re not going to lay down and die so the rest of us can live. They want to hope, even when there is none! They fight, because they have nothing else to lose. And so we have to fight back, and by the time this war is over both sides will be too weak to do anything and everypony has to die!”

A long silence followed in which neither unicorn dared to meet the eyes of the other. Finally, Other Twilight broke the silence.

“But... you don’t believe that there’s no hope... do you?” From the intense look her in eyes, it was less a question than a statement. Those eyes were filled with a strange purpose, sending chills down Twilight’s spine. What is she thinking? They were her own eyes, and yet she could not recognize the feelings behind them.

Twilight shook her head, choosing her next words carefully. “No. I don’t. That’s why I dove into old history books and the few scrolls that were saved from Canterlot’s destruction. That’s why I proposed the Harmony Project and got it accepted by the Supreme Commander herself.” And that’s why you’re here, she thought. “If it takes a miracle to save Equestria, then that’s exactly what I’m going to make. The Elements of Harmony will be my miracle.” She turned her chair around and started wheeling herself towards the front of the library.

“You don’t have to do it like this,” Other Twilight said quietly.

Twilight stopped, but did not turn around. “Do it like what?”

“All by yourself.” There was a tone of urgency in the mare’s voice. “I can tell. You think you have to do everything on your own, that there’s nopony else smart or determined enough to do what’s right. But that’s not true. There are good ponies out there—kind, generous, loyal ponies—who can help. And you need their help.” She took a deep breath. “The Elements of Harmony will only work when you have friends who embody them. Without friends, there’s no way you can save Equestria.”

Friends. That word conjured up memories for Twilight. Unbidden, like bubbles rising from the bottom of a pond, those memories broke the surface of her thoughts.

She was a filly, being pushed by her mother through the classroom door on the first day of kindergarten

“Come on, Twilight. Shining Armor’s not going to be home much anymore, so you’ve got to make some new friends!”

She was a student, walking through the college courtyard carrying a heavy load of books, trying desperately to ignore the shouting and singing from the party being held outside her dorm.

“Hey, come join us Twilight! It’s not like the world’s going to end because you got a B on your next test!”

She was a scientist, the young prodigy amongst ponies old enough to be her grandparents, rebuffing their attempts to impart their wisdom and knowledge upon her.

“Oh, give it up. That pony’s more interested in machines than friends.”

Twilight snorted, turning back around. “That’s ridiculous. Tick Tock managed to draw out the power of the Elements with a machine. He didn’t need friends to use them, and neither do I.”

Her twin stood up so quickly she knocked her chair over. “And look how that ended. Didn’t you just say that Tick Tock made things worse than Discord?”

“I said some ponies think that!” Twilight snapped back. “But they’re wrong. Tick Tock did the right thing. Discord had to die, no matter what the cost. It’s the only way we can make progress.” She breathed in, her nostrils flaring. “And progress is all that matters.”

Other Twilight’s eyes grew wide. “That’s not true,” she said, her voice pleading. “There’s so much more that’s more important than that. So much more.”

“What do you know? This isn’t your world.” Twilight spun around, wheeling herself towards the door. “Read your books. I’ll be back when you’re done.”

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Executive Order R3-17653
Establishment of the Harmony Project

By the authority of the Supreme Commander of the Solarium Armed Forces, it is hereby ordered as follows:

There will be the establishment of the Harmony Project, a scientific and magical research program to be placed under the direct supervision of the General-Secretary of the Solarium Legislative Council. The Project shall be headed by a Chief Director who has authority over all technical aspects of the program and a council of six sub-directors to manage non-technical aspects. The Chief Director will be given an administrative assistant to facilitate communication between her and the sub-directors. All further organization is to be implemented by the sub-directors as necessary.

The program is to be given absolute precedence in terms of resources and logistics over all else except the security of Solarium itself. The office of the Secretariat will ensure that this precedence is maintained.

Furthermore, the Supreme Commander would like personally extend her assurances to all worried parties that the Elements of Harmony do, in fact, exist, and that the age and inexperience of Chief Director Twilight Sparkle are not an insurmountable impediment to the project's success.

General Secretary Blacknote Singer

Chapter 7: Ignition

Chapter 7
Ignition

“Our city was not founded on the back of the earth pony, nor the horn of the unicorn, nor the wings of the pegasi. It was founded on the axle of the rune engine and the superstructure of the machine. These gears and wheels transcend our differences of biology. Let the pegasus weave spells and the earth pony fly, for we are the machine nation. Ours is the cold passion and the mechanical mind. Together we will drive towards the future.”
- General-Secretary Blacknote Singer

Applejack awoke with a start.

She poked her head out from the tent she shared with the two other mares that had been kind enough to offer theirs, and couldn’t figure out why she had awoken so suddenly. The sky was still dark, although the eastern horizon was beginning to brighten. She looked around; there was nothing in the endless field of tents surrounding her that seemed wrong.

General Greenblade hadn’t wanted to set up a camp for the night at all. He had wanted to march all the way back to the safety of the Obsidian Caves before resting, but that was a two day’s march at gallop. There was no way the Manehattan army, tired from the battle at Solarium, could make it without rest. Thus the colonels had worn him down, pointing out that it was far safer to make camp while they were still in a green zone.

There had been parties. The officers had broke out their supplies of alcohol for the mares and stallions to celebrate their victory. While they had technically been defeated and were retreating, in reality they had dealt a staggering blow for a force their size, and had accomplished what they had set out to do. The Package had been secured; now they just had to get it back to Manehattan.

As a result, despite the fact that Solarium was surely gearing up for pursuit, there was a sense of peace over the camp. Nopony really expected there to be much trouble on the journey home. It would be at least a day before Solarium could muster up a proper pursuit force, so as long as the Manehattanites kept moving with the daylight, there was no way they could be caught.

Daylight. Greenblade had declared that the army would move out at first light. Applejack had dreaded that, knowing there would be no way she could get a good night’s rest with so little time. Yet here she was, feeling fully rested, and the sun was only beginning to rise...

There were shouts in the distance, followed by a flurry of noise. “Get up!” Applejack heard, “Get up! Move!”

And then it clicked. Applejack dived back into her tent, waking up the other two mares in the process, searching desperately through the piles of armor and clothing. One of the mares blinked sleepily at her. “What’re you looking for?” she mumbled.

Got it! Applejack pulled a pocket watch out from the pile and squinted, trying to make out the tiny hands of the clock in the darkness.

11:13.

Her blood froze. It was almost noon. It was almost noon, and the sun still hadn’t risen. In hindsight, it was obvious. It was the height of foolishness to trust daylight to awaken them when their enemies controlled the sun.

A series of distant explosions resounded outside, and Applejack felt the ground beneath her rumble. She rushed back out of the tent and looked towards the western horizon. There were shapes in the sky, silently emerging from the darkness like a swarm of dark ghosts.

“Airships!” somepony shouted far away, and the entirety of the camp heaved into motion. “Solarium airships!” What had been a peaceful field of tents moments before now erupted into a roiling mass of movement. “Get up, get moving, go go go!”

“C’mon girls, let’s skeedaddle!” Applejack shouted into the tent. She grabbed what few personal belongings she had and piled them into a saddlebag as her tent-mates desperately gathered their things. Drawing ever closer, the aerial armada fired a second barrage, and another wave of explosions burst forth. “Forget the tent, we gotta move!”

The sun burst forth from the horizon, showering the plain with golden light to better the aim of the Solarium gunners. The Manehattan army was scattering into the plaid-colored hills of the yellow zone, but this was no disorganized rout. Backup plans had been carefully laid for this situation, and now every squad was following its orders.

The two other mares nodded towards Applejack, who kicked the air with her front legs and neighed. Together, they disappeared into the wilderness of chaos.

It took several times longer than normal for Twilight to pass through security at the Harmony Project research complex. A fair bit of time was spent doing magic tricks to prove she wasn’t a changeling. Once inside though, she was not stopped again. In fact, in the chaotic mess of the facility, she was hardly noticed. Guards and scientists and worker ran around in every which way, surveying damage and tallying losses. The paths were filled with rubble and broken machinery while papers fluttered in the wind.

Inside the massive chamber underneath the Solar Engine was even worse. The facility was nothing short of a disaster area. The concrete floors were strewn with smashed pieces of delicate mechanisms that crunched as Twilight’s wheelchair rolled over them. Ridiculously expensive magical sensors and dozens of one-of-a-kind control devices that she had helped design herself were scattered everywhere, like a giant had rampaged through the area. Twilight’s stomach twisted with guilt as she remembered what she had done in her fury—the amount of damage she had done to her own project was incalculable.

Around her, a chaotic storm of ponies raged. It was not unlike the scene on which Shining Armor had first arrived, only this time Twilight was only a tiny creature hiding beneath the storm rather than dominating its center. There was untold amounts of work to be done, and hundreds of ponies that she did not recognize were focused on their own tasks. No one spared a moment for a small pony in a wheelchair.

Twilight shrank into her seat. Never had she felt so tiny in what she had long regarded as her own facility. She wasn’t used to being ignored here—it was her project, after all. The sheer alienness of what should have been a familiar environment drained her confidence, and every time she tried to stop one of the workers and ask what was going on, she found herself unable to speak.

“Dir- Twilight Sparkle!”

The chiming, feminine voice rang out from the lower levels. A small, sandstone-colored unicorn bounded up the stairs and stopped just before running into her, gasping for breath. “Twilight! You’re alive!”

Twilight smiled. The relief of finally finding a familiar face was a weight lifted off her chest. “Sharp Ink! It’s good to see you again!”

Sharp Ink opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a tall, brown mare behind her. “And it is good to see you as well,” the mare said.

Twilight bolted upright in her wheelchair. “G- General-Secretary!” She tried to act as official as possible, but she wasn’t sure what to say next. After a short pause she blurted out, “Thank you.”

Sharp Ink quickly slid out of the way. Blacknote was as expressionless as ever. “We weren’t sure if you had survived the attack. It is fortunate that you did, although I see you did not escape uninjured.”

Twilight nodded slowly. If only you knew. She wanted to tell Blacknote all about her role in the battle, about how she had struggled to get the shield engines back online when nopony else could, but she wasn’t sure if now was the appropriate time. But I might not get another chance...

“I presume you are here to inquire as to the state of the Harmony Project,” Blacknote continued, and Twilight deflated slightly as her chance to impress the General-Secretary vanished. “I am afraid the situation is most dire. Although data recorded during the activation was preserved, most of the equipment was not. The material damages alone are catastrophic.” Twilight looked down, her stomach churning with guilt, but Blacknote didn’t seem to notice. “Furthermore, several key researchers on the project were killed or captured by the enemy, and their talents are irreplaceable.” Blacknote coldly regarded Twilight through her glasses. “It would appear that you are now more valuable to us than ever.”

Twilight forced herself to look Blacknote in the eye. “What about the Element?”

Blacknote was silent for a moment. “I have just finished a strategic meeting with the ranking generals and the officer who led the defense of the city. Their conclusion was that the primary goal of the assault force was to serve as a distraction from the attack’s key target: the Harmony Project. A very similar strategy to the attack on Canterlot.” Twilight stirred; she hadn’t heard much about the attack on Canterlot. “We believe the Element and the core of the Harmony Device are being taken back to Manehattan through the Obsidian Caves. The Second Airfleet is in pursuit and engaged the enemy forces at 11:15 this morning.”

So that explains why the sun was late, Twilight thought. But the news that there was an armada of airships trying to get the Element back brightened her mood. “So there’s a chance we can get them back?”

“Perhaps.” Blacknote tilted her head. “Regardless, as it stands now the city of Solarium has invested enormous resources into this project and has nothing to show for it.” Twilight’s mood fell again, and a feeling of dread crept up in her chest. “The resources necessary to try again, even if the stolen parts are recaptured, are simply too great. Because of this, I have made the decision to revoke your position as Chief Director and shut down the Harmony Project.”

It took several seconds for Twilight to understand those words. The moment she did, the thin supports that had long held up her fragile ego dashed themselves to pieces. Something deep inside her shattered, and the fragments burst out. “What? No! You can’t! You can’t do this!”

“Twilight...”

“After all I’ve done, you can’t do this to me-”

“Twilight.”

“It worked, for goodness’ sake! It worked-”

“TWILIGHT!”

Twilight froze instantly. Even Sharp Ink gasped. The General-Secretary did not raise her voice, ever.

Blacknote’s face still hadn’t changed from that impassive expression, but there was a dark steel in the way she spoke. “This is not a punishment. It is not because of anything you have done that I have made this decision. The fact of the matter is that Solarium simply does not have the resources to maintain the project. We are at war now, and that must supersede all other priorities.”

Twilight was trembling in her wheelchair, her eyes cast down at the floor. When she spoke, her voice was quivering. “It- it’s not f- fair...”

“Life is not fair,” Blacknote answered coldly. “You are still young. You will come to learn this lesson in time as I have.” There was a short pause. “Do you understand why I made this decision?”

“Y- yes.”

Blacknote tilted her head downwards. “Are you crying, Twilight Sparkle?”

“N- no.”

Suddenly she felt the pressure of Blacknote’s hoof under her chin and lifting her head. Through her watery eyes, Twilight looked up to the General-Secretary, and not merely literally. Since she had met the mare she had idolized her as a role model: cold, calculating, efficient, and focused above all else. She was a leader who never let emotion or bias get in the way of her decisions, who always pursued her goals with ruthless effectiveness, the calm eye in the middle of every storm.

Blacknote’s voice did not change from its monotone, but there was something motherly softness in her words now that shocked Twilight. “For what it’s worth, the Supreme Commander still holds you in high regard.”

Twilight wiped away her tears. “The Supreme Commander’s never even met me.”

Blacknote dropped her hoof. “The Supreme Commander meets no one other than myself. Nor does she need to. What she cannot glean from her tower, she learns from me, and from the past ponies who have held my position. It is enough.”

Twilight understood the unspoken words. So if the Supreme Commander holds you in high regard, it is because I do. That thought buoyed her. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, pouring every bit of sincerity she had into those two words.

“It is alright.” There was no visible shift in Blacknote’s demeanor, but Twilight sensed that the conversation was now turning back to business. “Now. I have been informed that the experiment brought forth a pony very similar to yourself. Do you have any information on this pony?”

Twilight nodded, wiping away the last of her tears. “She’s, well, me. She’s me from an alternate reality. This... other world seems to be parallel to ours, but it has a different history. In her world, the Princesses never disappeared, and Discord was defeated by them before he could consolidate his rule.”

Blacknote pushed her glasses up onto her face. “Interesting.”

Really? Twilight thought as she cast a glance at Sharp Ink, who was looking at her with one eyebrow raised. Just ‘interesting?’ You’re going to believe that without any more explanation?

“Where is she now?” Blacknote asked.

“I left her at the Solarium library to learn about our world,” Twilight answered.

Blacknote did not answer, and Twilight became increasingly nervous. Maybe leaving her alone at the library wasn’t such a good decision after all. “Um,” she said, trying to explain herself, “she knows a lot about magic. Two hundred spells, she said.” At that, Sharp Ink’s eyes expanded into round, glassy orbs.

The General-Secretary’s eyes flickered upwards for a moment as she considered the new information and came to a course of action. “You will query her,” she declared. “Create a list of spells she knows that seem as though they would be useful to our endeavour.” Twilight knew that by that word she meant war. “Once complete, you will submit this list to me, and this pony will then teach these spells to a group of our own magi. Once the spells have been disseminated into a wider body, we will begin industrialization and weaponization.”

“Yes ma’am.” Twilight nodded, but she felt a drop of worry for her twin. “What’s going to happen to her after that?”

Blacknote’s eyes flickered upwards again. “I am uncertain. As you are a citizen of Canterlot and this pony is, as you say, you, it is probable that the Canterlot Magistrates will attempt to claim her. However, as she is the product of an experiment funded and directed by the city of Solarium, she is undeniably the property of the Solarium Armed Forces.”

Twilight blinked. “But... but she’s a pony,” she objected, waving a hoof. “Shouldn’t she make her own decisions?”

Blacknote stared at Twilight as though regarding a naive child. “If, as you say, she knows two hundred spells, she is a resource of incalculable value that we cannot fail to exploit. I need not remind you that the vast advantages in resources and population Manehattan and its allies enjoys over us cannot be overcome with our current capabilities.”

Twilight nodded again, sighing. “I understand.”

“Good. There is one more thing.” Twilight perked up attentively. “The Manehattan force that attacked Canterlot utilized a new vehicle. It is a machine that flies without the use of chambers for lighter-than-air gases. We believe that Manehattan has solved the mysteries of pegasus flight and can now create aircraft that fly using the same methods that pegasi do.” Blacknote paused before continuing. “Given your research into pegasus magic, we believe that you are uniquely suited to reverse-engineering this machine.”

Twilight smiled, a sense of new purpose surging through her veins. “I will do my best.”

“Excellent.” Blacknote looked down towards the bottom of the facility. “I must return to attending to the repair of this facility. Farewell.”

Twilight spun her wheelchair around, preparing to leave, but was stopped when Sharp Ink put her hoof on the armrest. Twilight looked at her. “What is it?”

Sharp Ink was unreadable. “Is that it? Was that all you wanted? All you cared about?”

Twilight furrowed her brows in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Brainwave. Gear Shift. Golden Stone. They’re dead, Twilight. Don’t you even care?”

Twilight was silent. True enough, she hadn’t even thought to ask about her colleagues who hadn’t managed to escape during the attack. But that was their fault, wasn’t it? She had escaped, after all, and if she hadn’t lost it and gone on the attack she wouldn’t have even needed help. Twilight shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Did she feel guilty about not having even thought about the other victims of the Manehattan assault? Should she feel guilty?

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “It’s none of my business,” she murmured, and proceeded back up the ramp, leaving Sharp Ink standing there, staring at the back of her head.

The Solarium prisoner-of-war camp consisted of a hundred tents in a parking lot that had been hastily ringed with barbed wire. Guards armed with spears and shock prods constantly patrolled the inside and the perimeter. Beyond them were the looming, rectangular shapes of Solarium’s industrial district. Occasionally, a few new prisoners arrived, and the unicorns would have their horns covered in golden lightstone blocks, while pegasi would have their wings bound.

The situation was meant to be temporary, and prisoners were being transferred out to other prisons all the time. Fluttershy had not yet been so fortunate. She was one of the few pegasi who had been captured, and almost all of the others were injured and unable to fly. As a result, she had been relentlessly mocked by the other POWs. To make things worse, one of the Solarium guards had let slip that she had been found trying to help one of the “enemy.” When that had happened, Fluttershy had been afraid things were going to get violent, but fortunately some of the guards seemed sympathetic to her plight and intervened.

Fluttershy found an isolated corner of the camp to curl up and try to think happy thoughts. Guards came by now and then to give quick jabs with the blunt ends of their spears into any mean-looking pony that got too close. She missed her home desperately, the image of her quaint little cloud cottage in Cloudsdale never leaving her mind. Living in Cloudsdale meant that she couldn’t interact with little critters as much as she wanted, but at least she had her birds...

“Psst. Hey, Fluttershy.”

The whisper came out of nowhere. Fluttershy’s eyes snapped open and her head flicked back and forth, alarmed. There was nopony anywhere near her. “W- who’s there?”

“It’s me, Twilight,” the voice whispered again. It seemed to be coming from right in front of her. “I’m invisible.”

“T- Twilight?” Fluttershy stood up, staring at where she thought the unicorn was. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m going to get you out of here. Is anypony looking?”

Fluttershy spun around to check. All the guards and the other prisoners seemed to be paying attention to their own business. “I don’t think so...”

“Alright, good. I’m going to cast the invisibility spell on you, ok? Ready?”

Fluttershy nodded. There was a sensation like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on top of her, and suddenly the world around her became pale and colorless. She looked around again, and found a purple unicorn where there had been nothing moments before, the only thing still with color in this gray new world.

“Good, it worked!” Twilight whispered again. “Now, we can’t teleport and stay invisible at the same time, so we’ll have to sneak out the front gate. Try not to bump into anyone, and don’t say anything until we’re clear.”

As luck would have it, another wave of POWs had just left, so the front gate was fairly empty. It was a simple task to avoid the guards and duck underneath the metal rod that barred the entry way. Once they were several blocks away from the camp, the two ponies ducked into an alley to drop the invisibility spell.

“Whew,” Twilight said, brushing sweat off her forehead. “That went a lot smoother than I expected.”

Fluttershy looked at the unicorn’s horn. “I didn’t know unicorns could go invisible.”

Twilight shook her head. “I’m probably the only one in this world who can.”

Fluttershy tilted her head in confusion. There were dozens of questions milling about in her head, so she picked on at random to ask. “Umm... how did you know where I was?”

“Shining Armor told me.” Fluttershy blinked confusedly. “He’s my br- er, he’s a friend.”

“Oh.”

An awkward silence ensued. Twilight looked over to the ropes tying Fluttershy’s wings together. “Let’s get those off you, shall we?”

One knot-untying spell later, Fluttershy was stretching her wings with a smile. “Oh, thank you!” she said, hovering in the air. She wanted to give the unicorn a hug, but was too nervous to try. “Umm... which Twilight are you again. The nice one, or the...” Her voice trailed off as she realized what she was implying. She didn’t actually want to call the other pony mean, but at the moment nothing else came to mind.

Twilight rubbed the back of her nervously. “Yeah, I know she’s not the nicest pony. But she’s got a good heart.”

Fluttershy regarded her carefully. “Well, umm...” What should she say to that? Her mind thought back to two nights ago. “Uh, how did you know my name when you first found me?”

Twilight sighed, her ears drooping as she rubbed her chin thoughtfully. She hummed and seemed to be murmur to herself for a bit before finally answering. “Alright. I came to this world from an alternate reality where Discord was defeated before he destroyed Equestria. And in that world, the two of us are really good friends.”

Fluttershy blinked several times before smiling bashfully. “Uh, well... that’s... interesting I guess?”

Twilight’s head dropped towards the ground. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Well, umm...” Fluttershy took several seconds to think about what to say. “Well I don’t think you have any reason to lie.”

The purple unicorn sighed again, looking down at her feet. “I don’t blame you. It’s so ridiculous, I can barely believe it myself. I feel like this is all just a bad dream, and any moment now I’ll wake up back in my bed at the library.”

Fluttershy started to move towards her, then hesitated. Then she made up her mind and embraced the other pony in a tight hug. “I’m sorry, I do believe you. After what you just did for me, it’s not fair for me not to trust you completely.”

Twilight smiled weakly. “Thanks, Fluttershy.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “At least somepony hasn’t changed...”

The two ponies broke apart and locked eyes. “I really want to help her,” Twilight said. “The other me. She’s not acting this way because she’s that kind of pony. I think that, if I had been born here, that if I had lived her life, I’d be the same way. I don’t know what happened to her, but she’s hurting, deep down.” Twilight looked deeply into Fluttershy’s eyes. “I need to teach her the value of friendship. Fluttershy... you’re the kindest pony I know. Will you help me?”

Fluttershy hesitated, her mouth slightly open. We just met, and I barely know you, she thought. This unicorn claimed that in her world, they were the best of friends, and the way she was treating Fluttershy certainly seemed as though she knew the pegasus intimately. It was unsettling to be regarded as a close friend by a stranger, and yet, Fluttershy simply could not refuse this call for help.

She nodded. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but... I will do the best I can!”

Twilight smiled, the first true, genuine smile Fluttershy had seen on her face so far. “Thank you.” Her eyes looked towards the street outside the alley. “We need to get to the library. The other me will be expecting me there.”

The Solarium Second Airfleet was a massive armada of zeppelins, each decorated in the white, black and gold of the city’s flag. The airships ranged from tiny frigate analogs the size of a small house to massive skyscraper-sized flying battleships. Each one had compartmentalized helium cells and enchanted armor, and were bristling with cannons of varying sizes. The largest even had their own shield engines.

In the heart of the flagship, within a massive steel cage with huge rune cores spinning above and below, Oversight sat in a grand metal chair. His eyes were closed, and occasionally blue lightning arced between the mechanisms above him and his horn.

There was a reason why his rank was called “Battle Commander.” It was a unique rank, instituted only a few years ago, that existed outside of the traditional command structure. Battle Commanders had to possess an incredibly rare mixture of mental capacity, magical prowess, and tactical ingenuity. Oversight was one such pony. From this throne at the heart of a dominator engine, he was the lord of the battlefield.

Through his horn his mind was carried along on the great current of the engine’s psychic energies, sweeping out from the Solarium flagship and across the skies and earth below. Oversight’s mind carefully linked up with those of every single pony in the Second Airfleet, and through them he saw what they saw and felt what they felt, like tiny little recordings in the corners of his perception. More than that, he could also send them messages—tiny, mental pushes, little psychic suggestions in their minds.

Of course, no pony, no matter how extraordinary, could simply connect their mind to thousands and survive with their sanity intact. That was the second crucial role the dominator engine played: the gigantic amount of magic built up within the metal cage worked to correlate and assemble a complete picture, a massive mental map of the battlefield through the eyes of the combined Solarium forces. It was a discovery made by happenstance, a process no pony really understood. But as always, magic had a mind of its own.

The Manehattan army had scattered into a dozen groups running into the yellow zone, and pursuit was proving difficult. Oversight strained to stay in communication with the fleet as it dispersed, chasing down individual platoons as they strayed away. It was part of the Manehattan strategy. Only the group carrying the package truly mattered.

Oversight didn’t know what the package was, but that was irrelevant at the moment. What mattered was that there was no way to know which group had it.

Fortunately, there was an easy, albeit partial, solution to that. “Oversight!” Admiral Aerial Ace barked from outside the cage. “Send Task Force Zeta-C ahead to the Obsidian Caves! Have them land and deploy their armor to block off the entrance!”

Oversight nodded, and sent the mental pushes to the necessary airship captains. After all, it was clear that the Manehattan army was making for the Obsidian Caves, and there was only one entrance into that cave system that ran beneath the Chaos Mountains. Block it off, and it didn’t matter how many groups their army dispersed into.

Tentatively, Shining Armor walked into the lavishly-decorated office of General Chess Blitz. The white walls were decorated with golden spiral patterns and the floor was a luxurious green carpet. Even the wooden desk was carved with intricate runes detailing ancient spells. General Chess Blitz himself was seated behind that desk, hoofs clasped firmly on the surface, yellow eyes impassively boring holes into Shining Armor. In his prime the old, gray unicorn had been powerfully built, and it still showed on his aging build.

Shining Armor stood at attention, waiting for the general to speak.

“Have you recovered fully from your injuries, Captain?” Chess asked.

“I am fit for duty, sir,” Shining Armor answered swiftly. “Do you have a mission for me, sir?”

“I do.” Chess Blitz blinked slowly. “We have received intelligence that the Lord Magister’s aircraft crashed on the edges of Central Y-Z. The information has not been corroborated, but as time is of the essence and we have few other options, I am sending you to investigate the crash site, and, if possible, bring the Lord Magister back.”

A rush of energy surged through Shining Armor’s body. Was it possible? A chance to remedy his failure? “Will I be choosing my own squad for this, sir?”

“No.” Chess’s answer was curt. “Solarium has kindly offered a special airship for this mission that utilizes a new rune engine variant. Designed by your sister, no less.” Shining Armor stirred, but did not speak. “The airship should prove much faster than traditional designs, but it comes at the cost of only seating four passengers. Since the vessel belongs to Solarium, two of their Shock Troopers will be accompanying you, although you will be in command. The fourth will be the mercenary who gave us this intelligence.” Chess turned to a door to his right. “You can come in now, Crystalline.”

Shining Armor had seconds to wonder where he had heard that name before until the door opened and answered that question. Instinctively he leapt at the white mare and swung his hoof at her face. Crystalline froze in surprise for a moment, but recovered quickly and teleported across the room. Shining Armor spun back around to attack again and—

“Shining Armor!”

—nearly fell flat on his face when the general’s voice boomed at him.

The captain turned to Chess Blitz, his eyes wide. “Are you telling me that she’s the mercenary who told you that their aircraft crashed?” When the general nodded in affirmation, Shining Armor jabbed a hoof in the mare’s direction. “Do you know that she’s the one who kidnapped the Lord Magister in the first place?!”

“Naturally,” was Chess Blitz’s succinct response. His expression hadn’t changed since Shining Armor entered the room.

What. Shining Armor’s jaw dropped. “I... I...” He was utterly lost for words.

“Is this a problem, Captain?” Chess asked.

Shining Armor returned to his neutral stance. What the hay, are you KIDDING me? “Sir, how can you possibly trust her?”

Chess Blitz shook his head as though dealing with a rebellious teenager. “She’s a mercenary, Captain. She will be loyal to the highest bidder. And we have paid her a considerable sum.” His eyes glanced over to Crystalline, who smirked. “I am fully aware of why you are hesitant, Shining Armor, but you may have my personal assurances that she is trustworthy. Now, do you still accept this mission, Captain?”

Shining Armor breathed deeply, trying very hard to avoid shaking his head. “Yes,” he said, stealing an angry glance at Crystalline, a look that said, I don’t know how you got into the general’s good graces, but like hay I’m going to trust YOU with anyone else.

“Excellent.” Chess Blitz leaned back in his chair, letting out an imperceptible sigh of relief. “Report to dock B-32 in half an hour. Time is of the essence.” He waved a hoof. “Dismissed.”

Crystalline spun around and trotted out the door into the hallway. Shining Armor followed, fuming. There’s something fishy going here, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get to the bottom of this.

“Hey, Shiny!”

There was only one pony in the world who could get away with calling Shining Armor that. The commando turned around to see his second-in-command, Nightfall, rolling towards him in a wheelchair, waving happily with one of his three legs.

Shining Armor stared at the stump where the fourth should have been, mouth agape. It was a half-foot of flesh sticking out from Nightfall’s rear. “Nightfall... what happened to you?”

Nightfall sighed, grinning sheepishly. “Oh... I got cocky, that’s all. Got run over by a train, doctors had to amputate.” He chuckled at Shining Armor’s horrified expression. “Hey, it’s not so bad. Solarium’s got some fancy new artificial limbs, they tell me. Sure, I’ll have to wear a telekinesis engine with me everywhere I go, but I should be ship-shape for battle in a month of therapy or so.”

Shining Armor shook his head in awe. That Nightfall could lose a limb and act like he had lost a watch was testimony to the strength and cheer of his character. It was something that had made the two Royal Guards the best of friends. “C’mon,” Nightfall said, telekinetically wheeling himself forward, “time’s a-wasting.”

The two walked out into the main atrium of Canterlot’s military headquarters. Past the vaulted dome ceiling and sparkling marble floors, Shining Armor caught a glimpse of Crystalline in a far corner, chatting with some officer he didn’t recognize. Nightfall noticed his gaze and grinned. “So, you accepted General Blitz’s mission?”

Shining Armor looked down at his friend. “You knew?”

Nightfall nodded, chuckling. “Yeah. General Blitz called me in to ask how you would react. I told him that if you didn’t explode first, you’d be right on the ball.”

The commando snorted. “Great.” He glowered back over at Crystalline. “Well, what do you think?”

Nightfall carefully gauged Crystalline, rubbing his chin for several seconds before declaring, “Sober.” When Shining Armor looked down at Nightfall with a confused expression, the injured unicorn grinned. “You know, I have pretty high standards and stuff, so for most mares I’d need two or three beers first, but man, have you seen those legs? Definitely sober.”

Shining Armor burst out into laughter, earning a few odd looks from the other soldiers in the atrium. “Wow.” It took a few seconds for him to calm down enough to speak. “Are mares and beer all you ever think about?”

“No, sometimes I think about food too,” Nightfall answered, causing Shining Armor to descend into another wave of chuckles. Then Nightfall’s expression became serious. “But really, Shiney, you can’t worry about this kind of stuff. Orders are orders. You know what they say, start questioning the higher-ups and the whole system falls apart.” He elbowed his friend in the side. “We’re Royal Guards, right? The best of the best.”

Shining Armor nodded. “Right. The best of the best.” They hoofbumped. “Thanks a lot, Nightfall.”

“Don’t mention it.” Nightfall smiled. “Now get going, you’re short on time.”

Chaos Theory: The Science of Discord and Chaos Magic
Chapter 3: Green, Yellow, Red, and Black Zones (excerpt)

Although chaos magic is, by definition, hard to predict and unintuitive in nature, there are nevertheless patterns that emerge when we observe the way that chaos magic develops in an area. These patterns have lead to the division of Equestria into four kinds of “zones,” regions categorized by the level of development of chaos magic within them.

Green zones are relatively pristine, and free of the effects of chaos magic. The populations of these areas are largely urban and live in relative peace and comfort.

Yellow zones are in the first stages of chaos infestation. Typically, the first symptoms include unusual weather patterns and erratic animal behavior. As the chaos magic develops, the ground often becomes covered in colorful plaid or checkerboard patterns, and mutations manifest in indigenous animals. Although life in yellow zones is hazardous, the majority of rural populations still live in yellow zones.

Red zones are in the mature stages of chaos infestation. They can be readily identified by their tortured landscapes, filled with deep chasms and rifts, and are subject to frequent and powerful earthquakes. The rain is often toxic if not outright deadly, and gravity behaves unusually. Furthermore, red zones are often inhabited by enormous monsters called Abominations, creatures that have been horrendously mutated by chaos magic.

Black zones are what is left after a chaos infestation passes. Located in the hearts of red zones, these regions are devoid of chaos activity. Expeditions report an unearthly stillness, and describe the air as filled with “deafening silence.” The landscape is completely unfamiliar, and the sun and moon are not visible in the sky. Occasionally, ruins can be found that correlate to no known structures that ever existed. Black zones are like the surface of an alien world.

Chapter 8: Drive

Chapter 8
Drive

“War is the pinnacle of equestrian achievement. Nothing else is so effective at rallying so many to a common purpose.”
- Puzzlebreak, Philosopher

“You did what?!” Twilight Sparkle cried.

Her shout echoed within the cavernous confines of the Solarium library, earning her a sharp reprimand from the librarian, whose voice issued forth from the front of the building. “Hey, be quiet down there!”

“Sorry!” Twilight called back, then turned to the two mares in front of her. One was a yellow pegasus, and the other...

“I can’t believe you did that!” Twilight whispered furiously to her twin. “You could have been caught and executed for treason! You could have gotten me caught and executed for treason!”

“But I didn’t!” her twin shot back, and glanced at Fluttershy. “And there was no way I would leave Fluttershy in that camp all by herself.”

Twilight sighed and her rubbed her head. “Alright, alright. What’s done is done.” She turned to Fluttershy, who was looking down at the ground apologetically. “Can you get back to Cloudsdale?”

“Um...” Fluttershy thought for a moment, then shook her head. “Even if I could get past the city guards without being noticed, there’s no way I could fly through the hurricane by myself.”

“Hurricane?” Other Twilight asked, eyebrow raised.

Fluttershy turned to her. “Ever since Cloudsdale moved offshore during the Second Rune War, it’s been surrounded by a big hurricane. It’s really hard to fly through if you’re by yourself.”

Twilight shook her head. “We’ll have to find a way to hide you, then.” She turned to her twin. “I’ve been authorized to have you stay with me in my quarters, but I don’t think the guards will take well to another pony showing up.”

“I can cast the invisibility spell on her again to get her past the guards.”

“Well, that’s one problem solved.” Twilight sighed. “As for you,” she added, jabbing a hoof accusingly at her twin, “we need to get you a disguise and a new name. I am not going to let myself get arrested if you do something else like this.”

Other Twilight blew her mane upwards. “Fine.”

As the trio exited the library and made for Twilight’s apartment, they exchanged ideas for false names.

“Umm... how about Sunlight Twinkle?” Fluttershy suggested.

Both Twilights made identical faces of disgust. “I’d rather not be called ‘Twinkle’ anything, thank you very much,” Other Twilight said.

Fluttershy lowered her head. “Oh... sorry...”

“How about Dusk Darklight?” Twilight suggested.

Her twin shook her head. “That makes me sound like a stallion.” She tilted her head in thought. “What about Starshine?”

Twilight snorted. “Sounds like the main character in a cheesy romance novel.”

Her twin squinted at the ground for a few seconds. Suddenly, her eyes lit up, her ears perked, and she jumped into the air. “I got it! Starswirl!”

“Hmm...” Twilight considered the name. “Yeah, sounds alright.”

“YES!” Other Twilight clapped her hooves together, her grin stretching all the way across her face. “I’m going to get the hat and the cloak and the beard—”

“Woah woah woah, wait, what?” Twilight’s wheelchair screeched to a stop. “A beard? Where did that come from?”

“Uhh...” Her twin rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. “Never mind.”

They soon arrived at the guarded residential complex where Twilight lived. It was close to the base of the Solar Engine, and a private military route led straight to the Harmony Project research facility. After her twin cast an invisibility spell on Fluttershy, Twilight waved her credentials before the guards. They still had to take a quick magic test to prove they weren’t changelings, but it only took a few minutes to pass through security.

The buildings were crude and rectangular, and in true Solarium fashion, were covered in glowy lights and spinny things. The architecture always reminded Twilight of children’s toys, and had the unfortunate side effect of making it hard to sleep for somepony who hadn’t grown up in the city.

Twilight’s apartment was a spacious, two-bedroom affair—being Chief Director came with its perks, after all. The room was spartan, obsessively tidy, and filled with tables, most of which were covered in various machines Twilight tinkered with in her spare time, while the bookshelves that lined the back walls were the only source of color. The delicate forms of the machinery seemed to be quietly snoozing, as though at any moment the place could come alive.

She turned to the other two ponies. “Well, welcome to your new home.”

The prototype Solarium airship was a sleek bullet of a vehicle, with the gondola integrated so smoothly into the envelope that it was nothing but a slight bulge on the underside. The airship had what appeared to be air intakes and vents on the front and back, respectively—something Shining Armor had never seen in an airship before.

The vessel was the size of a large house, but the passenger area was tiny, barely able to accommodate the four ponies assigned to it. Shining Armor had to squeeze uncomfortably close to the mercenary whose throat he vaguely wanted to slice open, but he didn't complain.

Crystalline, however, was not so tactful. “Why’s it so cramped in here?” she grumbled as the airship detached from its berth. A loud whirring noise reverberated from the rear as the rune engine spun up to speed, followed by a noise like that of a constant, powerful gust of wind.

“This is a Mark IV Airborne Deployment Vehicle,” Lieutenant Sparkstorm, the senior of the two Solarium shock troopers answered. Their full-body armor was gleaming white trimmed in black, and the portable rune engines on their back hummed quietly as they held their helmets at their sides. “It is designed to carry and deploy a single shock trooper squad with extreme haste. This Mark uses teleportation to send its squad to the surface and utilizes cyclonic engine technology for greatly increased power-to-weight ratio.”

Well that explains why it’s so cramped, Shining Armor thought. Shock Troopers typically operated in squads of three.

“Cyclonic engines?” Crystalline asked.

The mere sound of her voice was frustrating for Shining Armor to hear, and the urge to mete out justice for the death of two of his friends was hard to resist. He did his best to ignore it, and her.

“The engine uses simulated pegasus magic to create a miniature tornado around the rune cores,” Sparkstorm explained, “thus greatly increasing the speed at which the cores rotate.” She smiled brightly at Shining Armor. “Invented by your sister, no less!”

That’s creative. Shining Armor hadn’t really known what his sister had gotten up to after graduating from Canterlot University. That was around the time he had been promoted to Captain of the Royal Guard, an event that had thrown him into the fast-paced world of Canterlot politics. Trying to navigate the complex machinations of the Magisters alongside training troops and handling security had overwhelmed him, keeping him from spending any time in contact with Twilight. Learning what his sister had been doing was like rediscovering a lost keepsake that had been gathering dust for years in some hidden corner.

He coughed, turning to Sparkstorm. “I don’t think you should really tell her any more about prototype Solarium technology.” Sparkstorm’s eyes were curious—clearly she hadn’t been briefed on Crystalline, but she seemed to get the hint.

They continued to make conversation as the airship blasted through the sky. Shining Armor and the two Shock Troopers swapped war stories while Crystalline sat squished into the corner. It was an enlightening experience for the commando, who had never worked with Shock Troopers before.

“Uh, Captain?” A door on the front of the passenger compartment opened, and their pilot poked his head through. “We’ve got a bit of a problem.”

Shining Armor pushed past the others and squeezed into the cockpit. “What’s the matter?”

The pilot pointed to a sickly-looking mass of pink-and-white clouds that dominated view. “Chaos storm. Looks like low-consistency cotton candy mixed with your average clouds. Pretty light one though, must’ve formed at the edges of Central Y-Z.”

The commando weighed the options. Going around the storm would lengthen their trip by at least two hours, and time was of the essence. “Can you go above it?”

“Above it? No. We don’t have the altitude ceiling for that.” The pilot grinned. “But we could probably go through it.”

Shining Armor raised his eyebrows. “That seems dangerous.”

The pilot scoffed and leaned his head back as though deeply offended. “Please, you’re talking to the best pilot in the Second Airfleet! I was at the top of my division when we finished training! Trust me, I’ve done this at least six times in three different airships—”

“Alright, alright,” Shining Armor raised a hoof to stop the pilot’s bragging. “Do it.”

The pilot gunned the throttle, and the airship rumbled as it accelerated.

Shining Armor frowned. Flying through a chaos storm was risky at best, but the pilot seemed confident enough. The pink-and-white mass grew steadily larger in the window, until it finally covered the entire view. There was an ear-screeching grinding noise from the rear. “What the hay is that?”

“Uhh...” The pilot’s ears flattened against his skull. “I hadn’t thought about that...”

The commando had a sinking feeling in his stomach, and wondered if it wasn’t because they were actually sinking. “What is it?”

The pilot lowered his head sheepishly. “Um, well... I think that sound is the cotton candy getting caught inside the engine...”

Shining Armor’s deadpan expression said it all. You have got to be kidding me.

Lightning flashed outside, and the airship shook from the high winds. The grinding noise was steadily descending in pitch but increasing in volume. The pilot took a deep breath. “And that would be the cylinders slowing down.” He pursed his lips. “Well, at least now I can tell the boys back at the lab to upgrade the filters on this thing.” He stole a glance at Shining Armor, then smiled meekly. “In my defense, any other airship in the world would have been fine with this sort of thing...”

The airship lurched again. The sound of the rune engine fell lower and lower until it finally gave one last, low wheeze and died. Shining Armor blinked. “So is that it? Are we completely dead in the air?”

The pilot tapped his hooves on his dashboard. “Kind of. No telekinesis engine means no control. This airship isn’t designed to be fully lighter-than-air, so without our engine we’re going to slowly fall until we hit the ground. Hopefully we have enough momentum built up to punch all the way through the cloud. If not...” he shrugged.

“What’s going on up there?” Sparkstorm called from the passenger compartment.

Shining Armor ignored the question. “Can we still deploy through the teleporter?”

The pilot checked his gauges, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s independent of the telekinesis engine. Flywheel’s all spun up to max.”

Shining Armor shook his head and squeezed back to the other three ponies. “Genius up there decided to take us through the storm, and now the cotton candy got caught in the engine. So we’re going to deploy through the teleporter.”

Crystalline raised an eyebrow. “Into a chaos storm?”

“If we can’t make it to the other side of the storm before we run out of speed, yeah.”

Crystalline groaned. Serves you damn right, Shining Armor thought. Then light shone through the cockpit window and into the passenger compartment.

“Hey, we’re through!” the pilot yelled excitedly, much to their relief.

“How long until we’re dead in the air?” Shining Armor asked.

“About half an hour, probably! Though you might want to deploy now before we cross the river, it might be hard to get back to the other side!”

Shining Armor nodded and turned to the Shock Troopers. “All ready?”

The Shock Troopers equipped their helmets, any sign of the living ponies inside now fully masked by their metal carapaces “Suited up.” Crystalline, for her part, was content with being ignored.

“Let her rip!” Shining Armor called to the pilot. The interior of the passenger compartment was filled with blinding blue light. Space-time twisted along with Shining Armor’s guts, and when the light faded he was standing on top of a red-and-yellow checkerboard hill. A slight wave of nausea passed through him—teleporting from a moving vehicle tended to do that to him.

The squad watched as their airship shot away into the distance, long strings of cotton candy streaming behind it. The Manehattanite crash site was several miles away to the north, far beyond the range of sight.

“Well, what now?” Sparkstorm asked, her voice slightly muffled by her helmet. The red insignias on her armor was the only thing that differentiated her from her brother Clacker, who had blue insignias.

Shining Armor sighed. They knew the Manehattanites would move south and attempt to link up with the Manehattanite division that was retreating for Solarium. The plan had been to fly south from the crash site, looking for them from the air. But that wasn’t an option anymore.

“I don’t know.” Shining Armor shook his head and grit his teeth, frustration boiling up in his chest. Why did the world keep conspiring against him? It wasn’t his fault he had been in Solarium when the attack began, it wasn’t his fault that Crystalline got into the bunker through stolen access codes, it wasn’t his fault that his young, reckless pilot had decided to fly through the storm. Time and time again the universe set him up for failure despite him not making any true mistakes of his own.

Growling with frustration, he kicked a small rock on the ground. The rock sailed through the air and clattered onto the bottom of the hill. Then it jumped up with a loud squeak and scurried away.

Whatever Shining Armor or any of the other three ponies had been feeling suddenly evaporated. He and Crystalline exchanged perplexed glances. Inside their helmets, the Shock Troopers had similar expressions. “Uh...” Crystalline broke the long, awkward silence. “Well, disregarding that, I have an idea.” Her long horn glowed as she pointed it down at the ground.

Shining Armor was both intensely annoyed and somewhat curious. “What are you doing?” he asked, intentionally filling his voice with as much contempt he could muster.

She rolled her eyes. “Using a gem-finding spell an old acquaintance taught me.”

The commando’s eyes bulged. Did this mare not understand the importance of their mission? “Are you seriously going gem hunting now of times?!”

Crystalline snorted and smirked. “Why yes, Captain. Have you seen what the Lord Magister wears? That mare has more gems on her than a Diamond Dog mine.”

Shining Armor couldn’t think of a comeback to that. She was right, but that just made him infinitely more annoyed.

“Found heeer!” Crystallined sang, then gestured to the southeast. “We’d best get a move on, we’ve got a long way to go.” She broke out into a canter across the yellow zone hills. Shining Armor followed, the vague desire to slit her throat he had been feeling now a very palpable urge.

Applejack lowered her binoculars from the window once more and frowned.

The escape from the Solarium air force had been harrowing, to say the least. Pegasi and gunships had screeched across the sky, pursuing them through the rocky terrain of the yellow zone. For a small Earth pony like Applejack, there had been little she could do except be swift and pray that the diversion tactics worked, like a school of fish scattering in the face of a charging shark.

The strategy had worked, somewhat. But Solarium had been smart, blockading the entrance to the Obsidian Caves with a small force of tanks that had been flown ahead and dropped off. Unable to get past the bottleneck, the Manehattan forces were now stuck on the Imperial side of the Chaos Mountains, and were being steadily hunted down by Solarium airships. Applejack and about forty others had been lucky to stumble upon a hamlet several miles to the north.

Taking over the tiny village of less than four hundred ponies had been a simple task. It didn’t even have a name on the map. The inhabitants called it Boup—a nonsense word typical of yellow-zoners. And though Applejack still felt disquieted at kicking of them out of their homes to make room for the soldiers; seeing the way they had stared at her with their spinning eyes had left her unsure whether they were sane enough to know what was going on.

The chirping of a bird drew her attention, and she raised her binoculars again. Roughly twenty minutes ago, a Solarium transport had deposited a tank several miles out from Boup. A Timberwolf medium tank, Applejack was told. Now it was slowly approaching with its accompanying squad of eight soldiers. The tank stopped in an empty, rocky patch of the field, and two of the soldiers sitting on it hopped off and started walking towards the town. Applejack frowned, then put her binoculars in her saddlebag and went downstairs.

Eight sets of eyes greeted her, the commissioned officers of their rag-tag platoon. “They’ve stopped in the rock field,” Applejack reported, her eyes on the leader. “Two of ‘em are coming in from the south road.”

Tech Space, a large bluish-gray unicorn, nodded. “A shame they’re not stupid enough to drive the Timberwolf straight into town. But they obviously don’t think there’s that many of us here, or else they would have sent more infantry.” He turned back to the diagram laid out on the table. “So Skydust and the other pegasi will fly out and distract the tank, while Tinderjack’s team attacks from the east and my team from the south. I will try to get on top of it and unlock the hatch so we can kill the crew.” He looked up and met the eyes of the gathered ponies. “And yes, it has to be me. If any other unicorn tries, you’ll probably just trigger the safeguards.” He paused. “Those left will intercept the scouts.”

Seated on the far side of the room, Tinderjack crossed his forelegs and shook his head. “We’re going to get slaughtered.”

Tech Space had an exasperated look. “We don’t have a choice outside of abandoning this town. That Timberwolf’s got more than enough firepower to level this village.”

Tinderjack grunted. “We might take fewer losses just hoofing it across country and taking our chances with the airships.”

“And we might take more.” Tech Space shook his head. “And you’re forgetting that if we succeed, we’ll have a tank.”

“Assuming they don’t blow it up to stop us from getting it.”

“They won’t.” Applejack didn’t know where Tech Space got the confidence from, but the way the stallion said those words was reassuring. “Now let’s move.”

Four unicorns galloped across the yellow zone plain. Crystalline led the way, followed closely by Shining Armor. The two Shock Troopers, on the other hand, trailed far behind, hindered by their heavy armor.

It took only half an hour of running for Shining Armor to decide that the situation was untenable. They couldn’t afford to run at the reduced pace of the Shock Troopers. With difficulty, they agreed to have him and Crystalline go ahead while they would stay behind.

Now accompanied only by the mercenary, Shining Armor raced over the plaid, red-green grass. Ugly, discolored clouds brewed overhead, occasionally obscuring the sun as they passed forests of polka-dot trees and darted around herds of poisonous rabbits. It was familiar territory for Shining Armor, though chaos always had new surprises.

“Are we getting any closer?” he asked Crystalline.

The unicorn mare was breathing hard. “One second,” she huffed out between breaths as she closed her eyes. Her horn glowed, and she swept it back and forth towards the south. “Seems like it.” She paused for breath. “Their wounded must be slowing them down quite a bit. Still, it’s quite the distance. I suppose it’s lucky that airship got us most of the way.”

Shining Armor gave an annoyed grunt in response and looked south. Looming ahead were tortured badlands, filled with gaping chasms and dark cliffs. “I think we can save time by cutting across the red zone.”

Crystallined looked at him, one eyebrow raised, as though he were crazy. When she decided he was being serious, however, she turned her eyes to the sky nervously. “There’s storm clouds brewing, and the wind’s picking up. If it starts raining... well, there might not be much of us left.”

Shining Armor smirked at her. “It’ll be fine, I’ve run monster-hunting operations in this red zone before. If it starts raining I can just cast a shield spell.”

“If you say so.” Crystalline bowed her head, and the two resumed the chase.

The plaid grass soon gave way to charred soil that smelled strongly of sulfur, driven by the wind into great dust clouds that raged across the horizon. Fortunately, none were close enough to be a danger to the two unicorns. They soon came across their first obstacle: a great chasm that stretched for miles in either direction, the sides of which were hundreds of meters of sheer rock that dropped straight down into a stony abyss.

Crystalline peered down the canyon and glanced at the other unicorn. “Well? What now, O Fearless Leader?”

A twinge of annoyance pricked its way through Shining Armor, but he didn’t let it show. “Just teleport us across,” he suggested coolly, as though he were explaining to a foal why the sky was blue.

Crystalline sighed and held out a hoof. Shining Armor raised an eyebrow. “It’s easier if I’m holding on to you,” she explained.

The thought of the mercenary grabbing onto him was almost enough to make him reconsider. Almost. Sighing in resignation, he walked over to the mare and let her wrap a foreleg around his back. Light enveloped them, and then they were on the other side of the chasm. Crystalline blinked and shook her head; evidently teleporting two such a long distance was more than what she was used to.

“Hope you’re not tired yet,” Shining Armor quipped cheerfully, reveling in the mare’s distress. “We’ve got a lot more chasms to cross.”

Three rifts and half an hour later, Crystalline plopped down onto the ground closed her eyes, rubbing her head. “That’s enough for me, I’m taking a break.”

Shining Armor looked down at her and frowned. “You can rest after we’ve secured the Lord Magister. We keep moving.”

Crystalline opened one eye, glared at him, then closed it again. “Then I hope you have fun crossing the next canyon by yourself.”

Shining Armor stomped the ground with one hoof. “That’s an order.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” she stated quietly, eyes still closed.

Snarling, Shining Armor flicked his left blade forward and pointed it straight at the mare’s chest. “You’re the reason we’re here in the first place,” he spat, filling every word with as much contempt as he could. “You attacked my city, kidnapped my leader, and killed two of my friends.” He raised the blade up to Crystalline’s neck. “I have every reason to avenge them right now, so for your own good you better not tempt me.”

Crystalline opened her eyes and looked away, down the canyon they had just crossed. “Empty threat,” she said, and the commando could almost hear the eyes rolling in her head. “You need me to get through the terrain here, and you need me to find the Magister. So you can take your patriotism and loyalty and shove it down Discord’s dead throat.”

Shining Armor growled, but the mercenary was right. So he retracted his blade and turned back around, shaking his head. Why in the world had General Blitz wanted to bring her along? There were hundreds of mares and stallions every bit as deadly and skilled as her in Canterlot; surely one of them also knew this gem-finding spell of hers.

He sat down, his insides boiling with frustration at each passing second that they weren’t moving. Too much tension was building up in his body; he needed to run, to kick something, to release all this pent-up anger and energy. I need to calm down, he thought. He looked to the sky, watching the way the sickly-colored clouds roiled around in the atmosphere, accompanied by occasional flashes of black lightning. The sight slowly cleared his mind, and he shook his head at the way he was behaving. So immature and emotional; he needed to take a step back and evaluate the situation more objectively. Hating Crystalline wouldn’t accomplish anything. Even if she was a traitor and mercenary scum, the fact remained that Shining Armor had no choice but to rely on her.

“So...” he started, back still turned to the unicorn mare, “you’re Canterlot ex-military?”

There was a long silence, during which Shining Armor thought Crystalline was simply ignoring him. Finally she answered. “For a bit. I got picked up by Intelligence early on though.”

“Ah. So you were a spy.”

“Assassin. I wouldn’t make a very good spy. I stand out too much.”

“Yeah, I don’t suppose you see many mares as tall as you.”

“You’re a pretty big guy yourself.”

Shining Armor smirked; he could imagine Crystalline’s bemused, one-eyebrow-raised expression in his head.

A tremulous rumble rose from all around them as the ground began to shake. Shining Armor quickly stood up, alert to the earthquake. But as quickly as it began the shaking stopped, leaving only the howling wind. Just a small one, a perfectly normal occurrence in a red zone. Shining Armor turned back to his thoughts, casting about his mind for another question. “So, uh... What’s your cutie mark supposed to be?”

“It’s a crystal flower. It represents how self-centered and stuck-up I am.”

“Really?” Shining Armor turned his head around, eyes wide, prompting Crystalline to giggle.

“No. It represents jewelry-making.”

The commando turned his head back around and stared again at the clouds. “And what does that have to do with being an assassin?”

There was a short pause. “Nothing.” Crystalline answered, eliciting a quizzical look from Shining Armor. “You know, just because your cutie mark says something doesn’t mean it has to be the only thing you’re good at.” When the commando didn’t respond, she continued. “What about you? Ever try anything else than being a soldier?”

Shining Armor stared at his hooves for a long time. Memories of his early childhood flashed by in his mind. As a foal, he had always wanted to be a soldier like his father. In a schoolyard brawl he had discovered his talent for shield spells and his protective nature. And, now that he thought about it, he had never really questioned his destiny. “No,” he finally answered. “Protecting the things I cared about was all I ever really wanted to do. Saving my friends and family from all the bad things out there. Ever since I was little, I only wanted to be...”

“... a knight in shining armor,” Crystalline finished, her clear, mellow voice as cheesy as a bad romance novel. Shining Armor chuckled; it was quite the appropriate name, wasn’t it? Her tone shifted. “Well, that’s very noble of you.”

Shining Armor frowned, replaying that phrase in his head over and over. Try as he might, he could not detect even the slightest hint of sarcasm in those words. But was there any way anypony could say something like that seriously, much less this mare?

“Well, I feel better now,” Crystalline said, standing up onto her feet. “Let’s get moving, shall we?”

Applejack wasn’t stupid. Clad in light metal armor and gripping a sword in her mouth, she crawled through the cornfield on her belly, well aware that she was meant to be cannon fodder. It was not a coincidence that the low-ranking rookies were in this group while all the officers and veterans were with Tech Space.

“Psst!” somepony whispered through the thick forest of corn. “Orange! Keep up!”

Applejack could only assume that the voice was referring to her—the only sign of the other ponies through the corn was the sound of rustling. The field was short and immature, hence why they had to crawl, but it was still thick enough to completely obscure vision within a few meters. With her mouth full of sword handle, Applejack couldn’t respond even if she had wanted to. Crawling through the dirt had not been what she had imagined when she signed up to join the navy. Puttin’ the earth in Earth pony, she thought. She was ill-prepared for this kind of maneuvering; her life on the farm was more useful to her now than her naval training. If it hadn’t been for inter-service rivalry, she would never have been sent out to watch for the attack signal at Solarium, and she wouldn’t be here now. We’re almost as good at fightin’ ourselves as we are them, she reflected sadly.

Shouts rang out in the distance, and Applejack heard the clanking of the Timberwolf’s treads against the soil. She dropped the sword from her mouth. “What’s goin’ on?” she whispered loudly.

“Shut up!” a voice whispered. Moments later, faint battle cries echoed, followed by the sounds of machine gun fire nearby.

“GET UP!” the voice shouted, abandoning all attempts at subtlety. “Move, move, attack, attack!”

Applejack picked the sword back up and sprang to her hooves. About two hundred meters away she could see the Timberwolf parked, surrounded by a squad of Solarium light infantry, its turret pointed towards the south with the coaxial machine gun mounted next to the main cannon blazing away.

I guess we’re busted. Nothin’ for it now. All around her, a dozen and a half more soldiers rose from the cornfield. Most were Earth ponies and had weapons in their mouths; the few unicorns let out a battle cry, and together the group charged.

The Solarium infantry jumped, surprised at the appearance of the second group, but rapidly started adjusting their formation to meet the new threat. The Timberwolf’s hull turned and reversed to the right, away from them. The tank commander, his upper body poking out from the commander’s hatch, swiveled around the beam gun mounted on top of the turret and took aim at the charging infantry.

As cyan bolts of magic lanced forth from the tank commander’s gun, Applejack side-stepped and swerved, trying to make herself as difficult a target to hit as possible. Adrenaline pumped through her veins; there was no time for thought, only the run. The beams of pure magical energy filled the air around her. She ignored them as best she could, as well as the screams of the ponies unfortunate enough to be hit.

The tank’s main cannon boomed, the thundercrack ringing out across the yellow zone fields. From the corner of her eye Applejack saw a spray of dirt and dust burst into the air to the south, but couldn’t see anything else. She was close now—less than fifty meters to go.

A cyan beam struck, blasting dust into the air. Applejack felt a wave of pressure and heat that made her stumble and fall. Her sword fell from her mouth, and hit the ground with a dull shock of pain in her shoulder. A wave of panic surged in her chest. Instinctively she lifted her leg and looked.

It was unhurt. Applejack blinked, taking in the fact that she was not only alive, but uninjured. She spat, thinking something about embarrassment before remembering that everypony around would be too busy to notice, much less care. Swiftly she grabbed her sword again and resumed running.

Already the first Manehattanite wave had reached the Solarium infantry, and the sound of metal clashing against metal rang as the soldiers dueled. The Timberwolf’s main guns were still firing towards the south, while the tank commander’s beam gun was shooting up at the swarms of pegasi dogfighting in the sky.

Applejack ran past the nearby fights and went straight for the tank, desperately reversing away from the infantry duels. She quickly caught up to the clunky Timberwolf and leapt up onto the front, jumping again off the driver’s hatch and landing on the turret. The tank commander, a green Earth pony, yelped in surprise. Applejack swung her sword, but the tank commander ducked her awkward swing, diving down into the safety of his tank and closing the hatch behind him.

Mentally cursing, Applejack stared at the closed hatch, wondering what to do. She only had a few seconds to ponder before the tank starting swerving wildly, its turret spinning as fast as it could, trying to throw her off. She tried to grab the commander’s hatch, hanging on for dear life, but her hooves couldn’t get a good grip, and she slid off the turret onto the rear of the tank’s hull, then down onto the ground, dropping her sword. She quickly rolled, getting out of the way of the Timberwolf’s treads as fast as she could, and the tank sped past her. The turret swiveled round, and she saw the coaxial machine gun line up with her eyes...

It was right then Tech Space bounced up next to her, leaping onto the tank’s rear. The momentary distraction was just barely enough for Applejack to scramble and dive to the side the machine gun roared and bullets riddled the air she had occupied seconds before. The turret swung around to track her, but she ran forwards, keeping ahead of the rotation, and leapt onto the turret in a single bound.

Tech Space was already on top of the turret, his horn pointed down at the commander’s hatch as he tried to telekinetically disassemble the lock. In his concentration he failed to notice a Solarian jump up onto the tank behind him.

“Look out!” Applejack shouted, shoving him out of the way as the Solarian swung her sword. Before the Solarian could strike again Applejack kicked her in the chest, knocking her down in front of the Timberwolf. There was a momentary expression of panic, then a sickening crunch as the tank passed over her.

“Nice!” Tech Space shouted, and turned back to the hatch. The tank lurched again, trying to throw them off, but this time Applejack was ready and held her grip on the many protrusions rising from the turret’s surface. Bolts and rods flew out from the hatch as Tech Space did his work, and moments later the hatch swung open, followed by the tank commander as Tech Space’s magic lifted her into the air.

“Stop, stop! We surrender!” she screamed.

The tank crawled to a halt. Tech Space scoffed and swung his head, tossing her into the ground. He pulled out the terrified gunner, and grinned. “Good work,” he said to Applejack.

Applejack merely nodded, too out of breath to say anything. She looked around; the battle was almost over now, the Manehattanite’s overwhelming numbers having won the day. But even a casual glance told her that there were far fewer soldiers standing now than there had been a few minutes ago.

She closed her eyes and tried not to think about it.

About time, Shining Armor thought.

After hours of running, their goal was in sight. His legs were burning, his armor was hot and uncomfortable, and sweat stung his eyes, but at last he could see it. From his vantage point on top of the ridge, he saw the Manehattan Rangers making their way across the plaid hills. Bound and gagged, the Lord Magister, though dirtied, still managed to sparkle even across this distance. Four of the ponies were carrying a pair of stretchers—likely injured in the crash, since none of them had been rendered unable to walk by their fight with Shining Armor.

He considered the situation carefully. Both he and Crystalline were tired from running for so long. He knew how much strength he still had, but he didn’t know how well the mercenary was holding up. But the Rangers had to be tired too, and all of them were at least lightly wounded. The teleporters were the most important—he remembered from their fight that there were at least three of them. One of the teleporters was on a stretcher, so that left the other two: the red stallion and the cyan mare. “Do you think you can snipe off the light blue unicorn from here?” he asked Crystalline.

The mare narrowed her eyes in concentration. “Probably.”

Shining Armor nodded. “I’ll take out the red one, then. We charge immediately after. Are you ready for this?”

Crystalline nodded. “Shouldn’t be that hard; you took on all eight of them by yourself, after all.”

Don’t remind me, Shining Armor grumbled mentally. The mercenary just couldn’t seem to stop making him recall that she had been the one to kidnap the Lord Magister in the first place.

The two unicorns lay down against the ground and pointed their horns to the targets. They took several seconds to steady their aim, taking care to lead the targets. “Ready?” Shining Armor asked.

“Yes.”

“On the count of three. One, two, three!”

Two beams of magical energy lanced out from the ridge, one brilliant magenta and the other deep violet. They struck their targets with deadly precision. The red stallion was knocked into the air by the force of the blast, while the cyan mare collapsed instantly onto the ground.

Shining Armor then focused all his power and raised his horn to the heavens. Tremendous energy surged, and an incandescent pillar of magenta light burst forth into the sky, where it climbed hundreds of meters until finally spraying out perpendicularly in all directions. The shimmering translucent membrane curved downwards to the earth, and the edges of the shield spell slammed into the ground, trapping the Manehattan Rangers inside.

“HOLY—” Crystalline yelped, recoiling in shock as the gargantuan shield manifested. “Ghosts of the Princesses, what in the world—”

“MOVE!” Shining Armor shouted, leaping off the ridge.

Applejack sat in the gunner’s seat of the captured Timberwolf, peering through the scope of the main gun. Various markings and notches lined the sights as she peered at Tinderjack off in the distance of the rock field. “So the notches tell ya the angle...” she muttered to herself while consulting the crew manual, “and if ya know the size you can tell the distance... Tinderjack’s about a meter, so that’s... one hundred meters?” She stared at the manual, confused. That didn’t seem quite right...

“D-Discord’s black bones!”

Applejack turned around and peered up the hatch. “What’s goin’ on?”

Tech Space’s face suddenly filled the hatch. “Somepony deployed a theatre shield a few miles away! Stuff’s going down, we need to get out of here!”

Applejack pushed open the gunner hatch and peeked out at the gigantic translucent dome that had appeared out of nowhere. All around her the Manehattanites were swarming into motion as they prepared to evacuate. A shiver of fear ran down her spine.

“They must have an army coming!” Tinderjack shouted. “Let’s move!”

“No!” a brown pegasus shouted. “It was only one unicorn! I saw it with my own eyes!”

Instantly, the scene around her froze. Every single pony turned their head to look at the pony who had said those words.

“One. Unicorn?” Tech Space thundered. “You’re saying one unicorn did that?”

The pegasus nodded furiously. “I’m telling the truth! That’s why the shield’s pink instead of blue!” He paused for a moment, then added, “There’s a group of Rangers trapped inside, the unicorn’s going after them!”

A lot of nervous shifting ensued from the gathered ponies. Tech Space closed his eyes, deep in thought. An aura of awe and terror rose up in Applejack’s chest. “Get in,” Tech Space snapped to Applejack, then turned to the rest of the soldiers. “We’re gonna save them.”

Applejack’s jaw dropped. “Are ya crazy?” she shouted, jabbing her hoof at the gigantic magenta dome. “Ya wanna fight a pony that can do that?”

“We’re not leaving those Rangers to die!” Tech Space shot back. “If it’s just one pony, then there’s no way it can be as strong as an actual theatre shield. Get moving!”

Shining Armor felt the impact before he heard it. A powerful blow against the upper area of his shield, then the boom of thunder. He looked up. Rolling over a distant hill was the boxy white form of a Timberwolf tank.

His first reaction after finishing off one of the Rangers was to wonder why a Solarium tank was shooting at them, but then he saw the dark green uniforms of Manehattanite infantry crawling all around it. It only took him a second to arrive at the conclusion that the tank had been captured.

Damn it. He and Crystalline must have chased the Rangers a lot closer to the Manehattan forces than he had thought. Sensing an attack from his left, he whirled around to parry a blow from another Ranger. There was a flash of light, and then Crystalline appeared behind the occupied Manehattanite. She stabbed through the back of his neck, and the Ranger fell down to the ground, dead.

That left only the grey unicorn that had grabbed the Lord Magister and ran away, dragging the old mare behind him. “Crystalline!” Shining Armor shouted. “Get the Magister and get out of here!”

The Timberwolf fired again. Shining Armor felt the impact against his shield then heard the boom of the cannon. Sweat dripped down his face as he grit his teeth. Exhaustion was taking its toll—using the giant shield spell was not easy. Only now did he begin to notice just how suffocatingly hot his armor was.

Crystalline blinked to the grey unicorn’s side, left front blade stabbing towards his spine. The grey unicorn swung around, deflecting the blade off his back armor, then counterattacked. Crystalline teleported again to the other side, dodging his attack and striking up at his neck. Had she the speed she displayed when fighting Shining Armor on the train, it would have been a killing blow—but the attack was just sluggish enough for the grey unicorn to feint to the side.

Three lights flashed around her, announcing the arrival of Manehattanite reinforcements. Crystalline blinked away behind a boulder as spears cut through the air she had occupied.

The Timberwolf fired again, and this time it was followed by a full-speed ram against the shield. Shining Armor grimaced as the magical barrier began to crack and splinter, and finally fall to pieces. He hadn’t the strength left to reinforce it.

Cyan beams and machine gun fire erupted towards him; he quickly cast a smaller shield around himself as he ran towards Crystalline. Bullets pinged off the barrier as he slid behind the boulder.

“Nice of you to join me.” Even now the mare had the energy for smart remarks.

The incoming fire stopped; Shining Armor peeked up from behind the rock. The Manehattanites were retreating, running as fast as they could back towards the tank. Seeing Shining Armor poke his head out, the tank began firing its machine gun again, and bullets peppered the front of the rock as Shining Armor ducked back down.

No. He would not fail again, not having come this close. He couldn’t. There was no way he could let that happen. “Teleport us onto the tank!” he snapped at Crystalline.

“Are you crazy?”

“We can take them!”

Crystalline’s expression was incredulous. “You might be able to. I can’t.”

Shining Armor stared at her, chest heaving with every breath. “Do it,” he snarled.

“No.”

All the pent-up frustration from dealing with this mare suddenly burst his dam of self-restraint. He flicked out his blade and brought it to her neck, spitting in fury. “Do it, or so help me I’ll cut your damn head off!” Crystalline only eyed him cautiously. “Go on! Give me a damn excuse! I’ve been waiting for this!”

Crystalline scoffed, an expression that brewed in Shining Armor a terrible revulsion. “And how’s killing me going to get your precious Magister back? You’re too good and noble for that.”

It would be so easy. Just a single, simple motion of his arm. The edge of his blade would cut across her throat, spilling the deep red blood that always ran so easily. He had nothing but disgust for this marble tomb of a pony, beautiful on the outside but filled with nothing but revolting decay on the inside. She deserved it, and Shining Armor knew he deserved to avenge his friends. But...

She was right. He couldn’t do it.

Damn it. All his strength and magical potential, all his training and years of experience, and he was helpless here now, his goal within sight. He brought down his foreleg and turned away, punching the rock, his face twisted in agonizing frustration. The sound of bullets continued to echo across the yellow zone. Not again. Not again. Not again...

Declaration of War by the Interim Government of Solarium (excerpt)

Be it enacted by the authority of the Supreme Commander and the Secretariat assembled that war is hereby declared to exist between the city of Solarium and the governments of Manehattan, Fillydelphia, Cloudsdale, and Trottingham. Whereas these states have committed unprovoked acts of war against Solarium and her allies...

Declaration of War by the Republic of Manehattan and Northeastern Territories (excerpt)

... the governments Solarium, Canterlot, and Baltimare have violated in the most flagrant and increasing measure the survival of the city of Manehattan and its dependencies, and have been continually guilty of the most severe provocations against this city...

Declaration of War by the Cloudsdale Federation (excerpt)

... These states have declared their intention to deny us the resources necessary to ensure our survival, turning a blind eye to our suffering and ignoring our need. They have made it abundantly clear that they view us, not as fellow ponies struggling to live in an increasingly harsh world, but as an enemy and competitor to a goal that should be shared by us all...

Declaration of War by the Baltimare Hegemony (excerpt)

... They deny us our inalienable rights to use our resources and technology as we wish, to make alliances with whom we desire, and to exist under our own sovereign government. Instead, they would dictate to us our actions, to be carried out at their leisure and for their benefit, instead of the good of the ponies of the city of Baltimare and her allies...

Declaration of War by the Magistracy of Canterlot (excerpt)

... This has been deemed by the Magistrates to be an unacceptable threat upon the ponies of this city. So let it be known that that the generals of Canterlot are authorized to direct and deploy the entire military forces and the resources of the Government to whatever extent is necessary to bring the conflict to successful termination, so that the races of ponies shall not perish from the earth.

Chapter 9: At the Edge

Chapter 9
At the Edge

“The grunt on the ground never has any idea what’s going on. All he knows is what he’s told, but he has no idea if what he’s told is right. The only thing he knows for sure is that there’s dust and explosions and swords all around him, and that at any moment he can die without being able to do a thing about it. All he can do it trust his superiors, his country, his friends. That’s why I don’t think about the big questions when I’m out there fighting. For me, it’s all personal.”

Shining Armor, Captain of the Canterlot Royal Guard

Iced tea poured from the skies, splattering in great green blotches against Shining Armor’s little shield bubble. He was alone now, having left the insufferable mercenary behind to continue his mission without her cowardice dragging him down. Pink lightning flashed overhead, briefly illuminating the roiling neon-green clouds. This could get bad, the commando thought as he followed the tracks of the Manehattan platoon, making sure to keep well out of view. The imprints the Timberwolf’s treads left in the ground were incredibly obvious, but if the storm worsened it could potentially wash even them away.

A glint in the sky caught his eye. Silhouetted against the hideously-bright clouds were the white and obsidian colors of a Solarium flying chariot. Shining Armor rose and cast a light spell from his horn, hoping to catch their attention.

It worked. The chariot swerved, closing in on him. As it grew larger in his vision, he could make out a total of seven pegasi—six pulling the chariot, and one manning the beam cannon mounted on it.

The chariot circled around him once before coming to land on the muddy, soda-soaked hill. “Captain? Captain Shining Armor?” the lead pegasus asked.

Shining Armor ran up and dropped his shield. Within moments his mane and coat were soaked. “You know me?”

The pegasus nodded, saluting. “Yes, sir. Our squadron found Lieutenant Sparkstorm and her brother, and she told us we could find you ahead here.”

The commando nodded. “Right.” His thoughts turned to that mare. However much he despised her, he didn’t have the cruelty to simply be unconcerned. “Have you picked up Crystalline?”

“The mercenary? Squad six picked her up earlier.”

Of course, why bother worrying about her at all? Shining Armor shook his head. “Alright.” He climbed into the chariot, squeezing next to the gunner in the small space between him and the chariot’s rune engines. It was a relief to his aching limbs to finally sit down and rest, but now was not the time to relax.“The Manehattanites have captured one of your tanks. I believe they’re heading towards the Obsidian Caves.”

“We know, the mercenary already briefed us. We’ll be joining a squadron sent to reinforce the blockading platoon.”

Shining Armor’s ear twitched in annoyance. He sighed, trying to shake off the feeling focus. They were going into battle again, and there was no time for distractions.

“So, how do I look?”

Twilight twisted around from her desk to look at the question’s asker. Her twin was now dyed a light bluish-gray instead of the normal purple, her cutie mark a series of gray stars embedded within a spiral flourish. Her mane and tail were as white as clouds, with two blue streaks running through where the normal pink and purple were. Twilight’s shoulders relaxed a little when she saw that her twin had not put on a fake beard. Her mouth twisted as she rubbed her chin in thought. “The colors and cutie mark are fine, but your hair makes it look like you’re just a recolored version of me.”

“Ah—” Other Twilight blinked, then rubbed her chin as well. “Hmm. I kind of like my mane this way though...”

Twilight chuckled. “Of course we do. Hmm...” She licked her hoof and then brought it up to her twin’s mane, just beneath the ear, and curled a lock of hair around it. When she drew back the lock stayed curled. “That looks a little better.”

Her twin turned around to Fluttershy, who had been waiting in the doorway so quietly that Twilight hadn’t even noticed her. “Fluttershy? How does it look?”

The pegasus turned away, her face partially obscured by her hair. “Umm...”

Other Twilight tilted her head. “Come on, Fluttershy.”

“It... looks nice.” Fluttershy smiled unconvincingly.

Other Twilight’s expression was deadpan. “No, Fluttershy, what do you really think?”

“It looks nice!” Fluttershy repeated with greater earnest. “I think it looks nice!” She quickly ducked out the door and closed it behind her.

Other Twilight sighed and turned around. “Well then.”

Twilight shrugged. “I guess we can say we’re sisters or something.”

Other Twilight nodded, smiling excitedly and punching the air with a hoof. “Alright! From now on, I’m Starswirl th- I mean, just Starswirl!”

Twilight shook her head at Starswirl, unable to understand why the name was so exciting. “Well, now that we’re done with that, I have something interesting to show you.”

Eyes lifted in curiosity, Starswirl trotted over to the desk. Splayed out across the chestnut surface were thick sheets of paper littered with numbers and graphs. Twilight slid one particular sheet over. “This is some of the data that was collected from the Harmony Project. Well, what survived anyways.” On the page were several grids with squiggly line graphs. She pointed her hoof at the one at the top, where a smooth curve suddenly jumped up, almost off the graph. “This is where the Khoraic Vortex started forming. Prior to this point we can see where the Harmony Device was trying all sorts of different things, and this is where it committed itself to one course of action: opening up a spatial rift.” Twilight pursed her lips. “The signature is similar to a Khoraic Vortex, but it’s not quite the same. The difference is probably whatever made it link our timelines.”

She slid her hoof across the page towards a spike near the middle. “That’s you.” Starswirl leaned in on the spike, ears erect and eyes squinting intently. “That’s your unique magical signature. But more than that, we can see the magic of the Harmony Device linking up with yours...” She levitated another page over, one covered in graphs that were criss-crossed with erratic black lines. “This is the signature from the Chaos Fragment.” She pointed to a sudden dip in the graph. “That’s when the transformation happened.” She slid her hoof over to the right. “And that’s the signature of the newly-reformed Element of Magic. See a resemblance?”

Twilight could see the mare’s mind churning away behind her lavender eyes—it was almost as if she could see the gears turning in her head through her pupils. “It’s similar... to... mine!” Starswirl’s eyes leapt open, and her whole body seemed to jump up.

Twilight nodded. “And that’s why I think you’re here. My machine was designed to reform the Element of Harmony. It couldn’t do it by itself, so it brought you here so that it could rebuild the Chaos Fragment into the Element of Magic based on your magical signature because of your strong association with it.”

Starswirl’s head dipped, her ears lowering as she rubbed her chin. Her eyes were filled with worry. “But... does that mean that if you try to restore one of the other Elements, it will bring the rest of my friends here as well?”

Twilight deflated. “Oh, umm...” I hadn’t even thought about that. She turned her head, eyes flickering to the electric lamp on the ceiling. “Well, I don’t know. I don’t think so though.” Or more accurately, I hope not. “According to what you told me, the other five Elements are channeled through the first, so it’s possible that there’s enough of their signature in you to reform them.” Please?

Starswirl seemed satisfied with that. “Alright then.”

Twilight exhaled and summoned a pen and clipboard. “Alright then, on to other business. I need to make a list of useful spells you know to submit to the General-Secretary so you can teach them to us.”

Starswirl raised an eyebrow. “Not that I’m saying no, but shouldn’t you ask me first?”

Uhh. The thought that Starswirl might actually refuse had slipped Twilight’s mind completely. She took a deep breath and asked in the most sincere tone she could manage, “Would you be willing to help me make a list of the spells you know and later teach them to some of our magic researchers?”

Starswirl giggled. “Sure.” She took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. “Umm, let’s see... Levitation, teleportation, invisibility, shields you all know about already... umm...” She rubbed the back of her head. “Well there’s a whole bunch of transmutation spells, like making mustaches grow, turning rocks into hats or apples to oranges.”

Twilight leaned forward. “What about turning things into say, metal?”

Starswirl nodded. “Yeah, there’s stuff like lead to gold or rocks to iron...”

Twilight scribbled away at her clipboard. “Those could be useful for manufacturing.” Starswirl made an expression of distaste, but she didn’t notice. “Ok, what else other than transmutation?”

“Well, there’s all sorts of enchantment spells, gravity spells... Oh, and time travel, and—”

“Wait wait wait,” Twilight interrupted, dropping her clipboard. “Did you just say time travel?”

Starswirl’s eyes were wide, but she quickly smiled knowingly. “Yeah, time travel! But the spell only lets you go back once, and only for a short while.”

Twilight furrowed her brows. “Once? What does ‘once’ mean? Once a day, once a month, once to that particular time or place, once ever?”

Starswirl rubbed her chin. “You know, I never really thought about that.”

Twilight leaned forward in her wheelchair, her expression eager. “Can you do it? Right now? Can you show me now?”

Starswirl’s head moved back, her ears flat against her skull. “Um, well, I don’t—”

She was interrupted by the sudden sound of crackling electricity. A white light appeared hovering in the middle of Twilight’s study, swirling and flashing and growing, issuing forth a great wind that blew her papers off her desk and filled the air with them. Lightning snapped and popped until the light crescendoed and burst, revealing a blueish-gray pony with white hair.

Twilight and Starswirl stared at Future Starswirl, who grinned awkwardly and waved her hoof. “Um, hi. I’m from about thirty seconds in the future, so... yeah.” Lightning crackled around her again. “Bye!”

There was another flash of light, and Future Starswirl was gone. Twilight turned to Starswirl, mouth agape.

Starswirl leaned away and looked down awkwardly. “So I guess I have to do that now.”

“Wait!” Twilight threw her hoof up in the air. “What if you didn’t use the time travel spell? Would that create a paradox? What would happen if you created a paradox? Would you cease to exist? Would the universe explode? Would—”

Starswirl shoved her hoof into Twilight’s mouth. “Look, I’m just going to try it right now so if you bear with me for one moment...” She pulled away and walked over to the middle of the room. Light surged forth from the tip of her horn, then orbited it in a series of rings that expanded downwards to circle her entire body, moving faster and faster until she disappeared in a brilliant burst.

Twilight held her breath, staring at the spot where Starswirl had disappeared. For six seconds, she was so motionless that time may well have not been passing at all. Then there was a flash of light, and Starswirl was back. Twilight let out a moan of desire. “You’ve got to teach me that.”

The Timberwolf clanked into position on a small hill overlooking the entrance to the Obsidian Caves. The hill was part of a series that formed the outer rim of an irregular bowl that sat at the bottom of the Chaos Mountains, their sheer black stone violently jutting up from the plains, dominating the landscape like an infested scar. The cave entrances themselves consisted of a series of tiny holes, the largest of which five ponies could walk through side by side. Once past through the entrance, they descended into a maze of black tunnels and chambers that networked underneath the mountains. They were largely unexplored, and nopony knew how extensive they were or how deep they ran, and rumor had it that horrific monsters dwelled in the deeps. For those reasons, the Imperial States had considered the caves a non-issue. Getting heavy equipment through the entrance, let alone tanks or artillery, was unthinkable.

Then again, they always did manage to underestimate Manehattan ingenuity. Certainly none of Solarium’s military experts would have conceived of disassembling their tanks, bringing the parts through the caves, and reassembling them on the other side.

Unfortunately, the small size of the entrances meant that they were trivial to defend. Solarium had flown in three Timberwolf tanks and parked them at the bottom of the bowl. Their overlapping fields of fire, combined with the two zeppelin gunships floating overhead, made approaching down the open slopes of the bowl suicide. Abandoning all their heavy equipment at Solarium to move faster now came back to bite the Manehattanites in the rear.

And that was why Applejack was drenched in a cold sweat as she peered through the gunner’s scope of the captured Timberwolf. This was their one and only chance...

“Take your time,” Tech Space reassured her. “They think we’re friendly. Take your time.”

Word of the captured tank evidently had not gotten to the Solarium blockade. The soldiers around the Timberwolf Applejack had in her sights were completely nonplussed by their arrival. Some were even looking at them with vague curiosity.

She aimed for the furthest tank, targeting the engine compartment, making sure to account for the ballistic trajectory of the shell. Timberwolves could fire three full-power shots before having to recharge. Three shots, three tanks. Every single one had to count.

Here goes nothin’. Applejack pressed the button. There was a two-second delay as the flywheels bled their stored energy back into the rune engines, which in turn channeled magic into lightstone capacitors fed that into telekinetic matrices.

The sound of thunder echoed across the bowl, and a hurricane of dust obscured Applejack’s sights. There was no recoil—telekinesis was reactionless.

“Hit!” Tech Space shouted. The dust quickly dissipated, and Applejack peered through her sights to see a mangled hole in the side armor.

In that moment, all fear fell away. She grinned as wide a smile as she had ever. This was power.

She smacked the reload lever. The gun breech opened up and another round automatically floated into position from the ammo compartment. Applejack took aim at the second tank, her heart thumping in her chest like she had just finished a rodeo. The scene below was reigned by chaos and confusion, and as her sights zeroed in on the second tank, she almost felt sorry for the ponies scrambling for cover. This is just plain unfair, ain’t it?

The cannon boomed once more. “Miss!” Tech Space called, and Applejack cursed as she watched the plume of dirt burst forth two meters behind the target. Still not very good with this thing... She took aim again, swearing not to miss this time, and corrected for her error.

“Hit!”

A brief mental cheer flared up in her mind, but worry quickly rose up and flushed it out. It would take minutes for the tank to recharge the gun. What were they going to do in the meantime?

Tech Space barked orders to the driver, answering the unasked question. “All power to treads!” He lifted one hoof, pointing straight forward.

“Charge!”

Applejack’s seat rocked beneath her as the Timberwolf surged forward, its rune engines putting every drop of power they had into moving it forward. They raced down the slope, dust billowing out behind them in great clouds.

The remaining enemy tank was maneuvering now, swinging around its turret to aim at them. A plume of dust erupted behind them as the first shot missed—Applejack knew from experience how hard it was to hit a moving target with one of those guns. By the time the second round was loaded, it was too late.

Applejack grabbed the sides of her chair and hung on for dear life. Their Timberwolf smashed into the enemy tank with all the power of a raging eighty-ton steel behemoth. Sparks flew and steel shrieked from the colossal force as inches of armor gave way before the blunt force. The initial impact sent the front of their tank rising up into the air for a moment, nearly smashing Applejack’s face into the gunner’s sights, then continued to drive the enemy tank across the ground, scraping its treads through the dirt before finally coming to a stop ten meters from where it had been sitting.

But the wounded beast was still alive. Its engines were busted, but it still had some power remaining. Its turret swiveled once more and the gun brushed up right against the front of their Timberwolf’s turret.

Horseapples.

Applejack’s world exploded as the protective metal cocoon became a steel coffin. The explosion threw her out of her seat, smashing into mangled equipment as she hit the floor. Debris from spalling flew through the air, momentarily turning the inside of the Timberwolf into a wood chipper.

She shuddered as pain shot through her body. It was a while before her ears stopped ringing enough for her to regain her senses. She realized a warm, sticky liquid drenching her face and chest. “I’m hit!” she coughed through the dust and din.

Then Tech Space’s headless corpse flopped onto her, and she realized that the blood wasn’t hers.

Light streamed in from above. The shell had blown the commander’s hatch clean off the turret, taking Tech Space’s head with it. Swearing all the while, Applejack felt around for her sword, and found it tucked away in the corner. Grasping the handle in her mouth, she carefully climbed out of the open hatch.

The battle outside was now raging in full swing. Unicorns and Earth ponies were charging down the slopes of the bowl, overrunning Solarium machine gun nests with sheer speed and numbers, while pegasi swarmed the air to tear gashes in the helium-filled envelopes of the airships. The Solarium guns took their toll, but there were simply too many targets and too little time.

The driver’s hatch on their tank popped open, and a scarlet Earth pony clambered out, wheezing. Applejack waved at her, and she nodded her head in acknowledgement. Brushing off the last of her shock, Applejack leapt onto the other tank’s turret. The hatches were still open—the enemy hadn’t had time to close them yet, so she slid in. The enemy commander was still alive, but thanks to the element of surprise he put up little resistance as Applejack slashed her blade across his body.

She climbed out again. The scarlet mare had dealt with the enemy driver, leaving no Solarium soldiers left in their immediate vicinity. Manehattan soldiers were streaming to the cave entrance now, and she saw the Rangers with the Lord Magister running by. Her relief was short-lived, however, as she suddenly saw strings of white shapes on the horizon, a squadron of Solarium gun chariots soaring through the sky.

A wave of stillness rippled through the Manehattanites as cries rang out announcing the arrival of Solarium reinforcements, sweeping in towards them on wings of death. Bullets and beams rained down from the gun chariots, causing the Rangers to duck for cover behind the ruined hulk of Applejack’s tank. Applejack leapt back into the commander’s hatch on the enemy tank and grasped the controls of the beam gun mounted on top. The tank’s rune engines were busted, but the beam gun still had some juice left in it. She turned to the Rangers and shouted, “Go! I’ll cover you!”

The gray unicorn nodded his head and the Rangers broke for the caves, dragging the Lord Magister behind them. Applejack swiveled the beam gun towards the sky, and started firing.

They were too late.

Shining Armor couldn’t hear the sounds of battle from this high up in the air, but he could see the devastation. The smashed hulks of four Solarium tanks and the bodies of hundreds of soldiers littered the bottom of the bowl, and the Solarium blockade was crumpling further and further by the second.

“Break formation!” the squadron leader screamed. Shining Armor gripped the sides of his seat as his chariot suddenly swerved to engage the enemy. Sure Strike, the gunner, blasted away at the ant-like specks on the ground as Manehattan pegasi streamed towards them, abandoning their fight with the gunships to deal with this new enemy.

There was little Shining Armor could do as a mere passenger except hold on. He tried to pick off the approaching enemy pegasi with his magical beams, but hitting a swerving, rolling target from a swerving, rolling platform was more a matter of luck than skill. The aerial battle was a confused mess as pegasi collided and brawled while the gun chariots riddled the air with fire. His stomach churned as the chariot rolled across the sky, repeatedly swooping down to strafe the ground, the climbing back up to rinse and repeat.

And then he saw the Lord Magister being dragged behind the Rangers. Only a few dozen meters separated them from the Obsidian Caves.

“There!” Shining Armor shouted, pointing. The chariot swung around and dived towards them, Sure Strike bringing his beam gun to bear...

Suddenly a cyan beam tore through the bottom of the chariot, severing one of the bindings that connected it to the pegasi pulling it. The floor beneath him fell as the chariot rolled to almost a ninety-degree angle. Shining Armor slid, smashing into the railing and rolling straight over it, only barely managing to clench his teeth around the metal bar of the railing. His eyes glanced downwards and widened; only a hundred meters of air was now between him and the unforgiving ground. Shit!

The chariot swung around wildly as the pegasi pullers tried to compensate for the sudden change in weight. “Hang in there!” Sure Strike shouted, reaching down towards him. Shining Armor tried to stretch for the pegasus’s hoof, but the chariot’s wild undulations made it impossible. Each swing made the railing slide out from his teeth more and more, until...

An eerie calmness took him as teeth met teeth. Wind roared through his ears as he watched the chariot grow smaller in his vision. He turned his head to watch the ground rushing up towards him.

Sure Strike blasted off the chariot, leaving behind an electric blue trail as he sliced through the air down towards the falling unicorn. The blue pegasus caught up to Shining Armor in mere seconds, grabbing his hooves and flapping his wings as hard as he could. But it was too late to fly back up, and Sure Strike only managed to slow them down as the two hit the dirt.

Shining Armor rolled expertly, covering himself in dust before leaping back onto his feet without delay. A quick check of his body told him nothing important was broken. Sure Strike clambered back up as well. “Thanks,” was all Shining Armor said before turning his attention forwards.

The cyan beam had come from a small Earth pony manning a Timberwolf’s beam gun. Shining Armor cast a shield around himself and rushed forward with all speed. The orange Earth pony saw him and swiveled her gun around, and bright cyan bolts lanced at him. His shield took the hits effortlessly, and Shining Armor could see the mare’s eyes widen.

The gun clicked empty. The Earth pony leapt out of the commander’s hatch and galloped for the caves. Shining Armor jumped straight onto the turret. The mare was fast, too fast for him to catch in so short a distance, so he aimed his horn at the cave entrance. The moment the Earth pony reached the edge of the cave, he fired, but the mare seemed to have sensed the shot coming and dived, the magenta bolt just grazing the top of her head.

NO! Shining Armor ran forward, but quickly stopped. The Obsidian Caves would be a deathtrap for him; he had never been in them before and had no idea how to get through. He couldn’t pursue them further.

He stared at the black maw of the cave entrance that the orange Earth pony had just filled. Despair snaked its dark tendrils around him, enveloping his body. He lowered his head and closed his eyes. Not again. Not again.

Despair turned to rage, and he turned to the rest of the battle.

“So, the mission was a failure then.”

It would have been better, Shining Armor thought, if Chess Blitz had sounded angry. Instead his smooth, deep voice merely dripped with disappointment.

“Yes, sir,” Shining Armor replied, standing as straight as he possibly could. Meeting Chess Blitz’s subdued gray eyes was almost physically painful, but even his shame could not overcome his years of discipline.

Chess Blitz closed his eyes and took a deep breath, leaning back in his seat. Shining Armor stole a angry sideways glance at Crystalline, standing next to him, her head turned to study the wallpaper with intent rapture.

The general opened his eyes again and leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the desk and putting his hooves together. His gaze pierced Shining Armor. “There may be one more opportunity...”

Shining Armor’s ears perked up as the general’s voice trailed off, every speck of attention now devoted to the old stallion. Chess Blitz pursed his lips and turned to Crystalline. “Our intel is sketchy at the moment, but we believe that the Manehattanites may be moving the Lord Magister to Pitchblende.”

Crystalline gave a little jump at that last word. Her eyes flickered towards the general for one moment before going back to intently studying the wall’s spiral patterns.

Shining Armor tilted his head. “Sorry, but I’ve never heard of that place, sir.”

“You wouldn’t have.” Chess Blitz gestured with a hoof. “It’s an underground Manehattan prison near the Fields of Discidium. Mostly prisoners of war, but reportedly there’s also political prisoners and criminals from Manehattan itself. A group of Diamond Dogs help to run it, and it seems to also double as a mine.” The general leaned back in his seat again and looked at Crystalline. “When we have more information, we’ll call the two of you back for an infiltration operation.”

Shining Armor stiffened at the thought, but that was nothing compared to Crystalline’s reaction. The slender mare spun around and stormed towards the door. “Not if all the monsters in Tartarus come forth,” she snarled.

Chess Blitz put his hooves together. “You do realize, of course, that we will be rescinding your payment, given that you failed your mission.”

Crystalline snorted. “Don’t need it.” Her horn glowed as a telekinetic aura appeared around the door handle.

“Actually, you do.” Chess Blitz’s voice was like the cold steel of a dagger strike. “We took a look at the payment you received from Manehattan. Those coins have a layer of gold about .1 microns thick plated on top of ordinary lead. They’re worthless.”

It was as if Crystalline had been physically stabbed. Her head dipped forward, her long, curly mane almost spilling onto the floor as her legs trembled, and she seemed to have trouble standing up. Shining Armor heard gasps.

“My answer’s still no,” Crystalline finally squeezed out, fighting back tears, and silently she slipped out the door.

Shining Armor turned back to Chess Blitz, trying to hide his confusion and failing miserably. The general’s mouth was curled in a slight frown, and his eyes bore the heavy weight of disappointment as they stared at the door. At last he turned towards the commando.

“Sir, if I may,” Shining Armor began, “why do you want her on the mission anyways?”

Chess Blitz blinked slowly. “She is one of three ponies that successfully escaped from that prison.” He look a deep breath and sighed. “If she continues to refuse, then I will arrange for one of the other two to accompany you.”

Shining Armor tilted his head forwards. “Sir, I’m a commando, not a spy. I’m not sure if I will be a good infiltrator.”

The general waved his hoof dismissively. The great lethargic deliberateness he had carried fell away as his tone snapped to a more business-like disposition. “It’s a prison for soldiers. You’ll fit right in. In the meantime, I want you to start training a new group of Royal Guards. Dismissed.”

Sitting at her desk in her study, Twilight Sparkle stared intently at the second hand of the clock mounted on the far wall, counting away at the seconds in her head. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand... For every two mental seconds that ticked, the hand of the clock moved once. Slowed down by half, then... or maybe I’m sped up by twice?

She sighed and shook her head in frustration, her ears drooping down the sides of her head. The spell that had taken Starswirl mere seconds to learn, Twilight had yet to master after a week. The first few times she had tried to use it nothing had happened at all, but now it seemed that she was able to slow down time for a short while. Useless. Useless, useless useless...

What in Equestria was she doing wrong? Twilight smacked her forehead into the desk, then jumped at the jolt of pain. “Ow!” she cried out, rubbing her head, confused at why it hurt so much. Then it hit her—if time around her were slowed down by half, then that meant she was moving twice as quickly, and that meant she was smacking her head against the desk twice as hard.

She slid off her seat—oh, how good it felt to finally be out of that wheelchair!—and paced around the room until the time dilation wore off. Grumbling, Twilight turned back to the work she had been doing before deciding to spontaneously try the time travel spell again. She hunched over the desk, peering through her glasses at equations and charts. To her annoyance, she could hear distracting laughter drift over from the kitchen as Starswirl and Fluttershy cooked dinner. A few minutes later, she was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she grunted.

Starswirl walked in, a shoddy little flower-print apron draped around her neck. “We’re almost done, want to come eat?”

“Later.” Twilight waved a hoof dismissively, not taking her eyes off the equations on her desk.

Starswirl trotted over. “What is it that you’re doing, exactly?”

Twilight leaned back and took a deep breath. “Working on a mathematical model for that Manehattan airplane.”

Starswirl’s eyebrows raised in interest. “Airplane?”

“That’s what they call it. It’s a heavier-than-air craft that flies like a pegasus instead of a balloon.”

Starswirl’s head lifted up in excitement. “Really? You ponies figured out how to do that?”

Twilight’s mouth twisted quizzically. So I guess we do have a few things figured out that your world doesn’t. The thought made her feel better. “Yeah,” she answered, nodding happily. “Well, we’ve known the basic concept of lift and wings for a long time now, but we’ve never been able to get good stability and control on our prototypes. What the Manehattanites have done is add fins onto the tail, and that seems to solve the stability problems.”

The other unicorn’s eyes glanced down at the ground as she rubbed her chin. “... Like a bird!”

Twilight smiled. “Exactly.” She shook her head. “Such an obvious solution, looking to birds for examples instead of just pegasi. I can’t believe we never thought of that.”

“I’ve never either,” Starswirl said, her eyes wide. “That’s amazing!” She looked down at Twilight’s desk. “So, um, what exactly is it that you’re doing with that?”

“Trying to come up with a mathematical model for the airflow.” Twilight shifted over one particular piece of paper and pointed her hoof at one particularly troublesome equation. “I need to figure out how to integrate this function.”

Starswirl glanced at the function for all of two seconds before lighting up. “Oh, you can’t integrate that!”

“What?”

She floated over a quill and started scribbling on the page. “Yeah, functions like that don’t have integrals, that was proven by—” Realizing what she was about to say, Starswirl lifted her eyes towards Twilight and smiled embarrassedly. “By uh, an old pony in my timeline. Anyways, you can’t integrate this, but you can do this...” Ink met paper with blinding speed as Starswirl scribbled out an alternative formula and slid the page back to Twilight.

Twilight glanced at Starswirl’s solution. It took about half a minute for her to work through the math in her head and conclude that she was right. An inexplicable pang of annoyance shot through her chest. She pushed her glasses up higher on her snout, then looked at Starswirl and lifted the corners of her mouth. “Thank you very much, you’ve probably saved me several hours of work.” And at this rate, you’ll run me out of a job.

Starswirl tried to smile in return, but her expression faltered at Twilight’s decidedly unnatural attempt to be friendly. “Uh, well,” she said, rubbing the back of her head awkwardly, “I’d better go set up dinner.”

The entire week had been like this. It was mind-boggling how much Starswirl knew that Twilight didn’t. Not just about magic, but about history, math, relationships; there was literally no subject Starswirl couldn’t school Twilight in. For a pony that had always been at the top of every class she had ever been in, it was an utterly bewildering experience. As Twilight watched the other unicorn walk away, a twisting sensation welled up within her that she could not put into words. It was a completely unfamiliar feeling, one that she felt she had heard the name of before, but could not remember.

What she could put into words was the knowledge that Starswirl—Other Twilight—was just better than her at everything.

The doorbell rang, interrupting her reverie. Twilight blinked and tilted her head. Who could that be at this hour?

The doorbell rang twice more before Twilight had trotted through her living room to reach it. She twisted the handle and swung it open with magic, revealing a familiar sandstone-colored unicorn.

“Sharp Ink?” Twilight asked..

“Hi.” Sharp Ink’s tone had all the enthusiasm of a pony that had been assigned to scrub toilets. “The General-Secretary wants you in the Secretariat Building, Room 121, at your convenience.”

Translation: right now. Twilight furrowed her eyebrows. “Did she say why?”

“No. Dress formal. Goodbye.” She walked away so quickly Twilight could have sworn she had teleported.

Twilight stood there in the doorway for several long seconds, feeling as though she had just messed up the time travel spell again. Dress formal? What in the world could she need me to do that for?

Dressed in his red military uniform, Shining Armor walked along the open hallway. The hotel was lushly decorated with purple carpet and floral wallpaper, with golden crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. It was the kind of high-class establishment usually reserved for Canterlot nobility or industrial titans from Solarium, and any one of the rooms would devour most of Shining Armor’s monthly paycheck to sleep in for a week. Trust that pony to stay in a place like this. He inspected each of the room numbers emblazoned on the doors in turn. 245, 247, 249...

And there it was. Starshine Towers, Room 251. He rang the doorbell. There was a short delay, then the door opened to a familiar white and purple unicorn.

Crystalline seemed to have her annoyed expression already pre-prepared, as though she had known Shining Armor would be on the other side. “Well, whatever brought you to grace me with the pleasure of your presence?” Her acid tone belied the courtesy of her words.

Shining Armor gave nothing away. “Can I come in?” he asked as neutrally as possible.

Crystalline raised an eyebrow. “My mother always told me not to let strange stallions into my room.” Shining Armor was impassive. She sighed and backed away from the doorway to make room for the stallion in question to pass through.

“Thank you.” Shining Armor walked through and closed the door behind him. The inside of Crystalline’s suite was every bit as lavish as the hallway outside. The carpet alone was softer than some beds the commando had slept in. “I suppose you got the message to report for mission briefing?”

Crystalline gave a noncommittal nod. “Yeah. My answer’s still no. Is that it?”

Shining Armor took a deep breath and sighed. “I want to know why General Chess Blitz wants you to work for us so badly.”

The unicorn mare shrugged. “Why don’t you ask him?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he walked to a nearby window to gaze out at the beautiful Canterlot cityscape. “I pulled up your file. Every team mission you were ever in you were always the last one in, first one out. And you always survived without a scratch even when your team took heavy losses. But you always succeeded, so you kept advancing through the ranks.” He paused. “The files didn’t say it, but I can read between the lines. You were a coward that left your teammates to die, and you took the credit for their sacrifice.”

Crystalline walked over to the bar and poured herself a drink of white wine. “And why should that matter to you, Captain? I see no reason why you have to be so personally concerned with me.”

Shining Armor’s head snapped towards her, his eyes burning. “You killed two of my friends. Of course it’s personal.”

The mare shrugged, downing the glass and smacking her lips. “And? How many Manehattanites have you killed, Captain? Hundreds? You can take your hypocrisy elsewhere, Captain Perfect.”

Shining Armor stomped over to the other side of the bar and glared. “I don’t think you heard me right. You didn’t kill two of my subordinates. You killed two of my friends.” Crystalline was expressionless. “Twinblade’s parents invited me over for dinner once. His mother baked the worst pumpkin pie I have ever tasted, but she was the nicest little old lady. He had a girlfriend. Her name was Meadow, a delicate little pony that started her own flower shop. They’d been going steady for three years. Two months ago he asked me if he should propose to her.”

His gaze grew distant, looking past Crystalline into his own memories. “Spear Shot was always the dark and mysterious type. He never told us much about his personal life, always keeping it professional. But then one day we found him trying to throw himself off the side of the city. Turns out, he had been suffering from depression for years. Nopony ever guessed. I managed to talk him down, and after a few months of therapy I saw him laugh for the first time.” Shining Armor’s eyes refocused and met Crystalline’s. “They’re dead now, because of you.”

“Yeah, well, sucks to be them.”

Before he knew it his hoof flashed upwards and smashed into the side of Crystalline’s face. She crumpled like a house of cards. Shining Armor stared in horror, first at her, then at himself.

Crystalline slowly got back up, staring at the carpet as she rubbed her cheek. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

Shining Armor didn’t argue. Eyes wide, he quickly backed out of the room. But before he left the doorway, he gave one last message. “I don’t know why Chess Blitz wants you so badly, but I’m glad your answer’s still no. Goodbye.”

The bar was dark and stank of sweat and alcohol. The neon signs that lined the walls were the only source of light, casting everything in pale hues as they broadcasted messages of varying appropriateness. Loud techno music blasted from the far corner as Shining Armor sat on his stool, staring at his reflection in the empty mug before him. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“She had it coming, mate.” Nightfall downed yet another mug of frothy golden liquid.

Shining Armor shook his head, not taking his eyes off his drink. “I know she did. But I shouldn’t have done it. I’m better than that.” Better than her, he added silently.

“Oh come on, the lady’s a complete b—” The glare Shining Armor blasted at him made Nightfall quickly backpedal his words. “Uh, a complete jerk, is what I meant to say.” The commando sighed and returned to staring at his mug. “Stop being such a sourpuss, Shiney,” Nightfall said, gesticulating wildly with his glass. “Enjoy the night. Here, I’ll order another round.”

“Can’t,” Shining Armor grunted. “I ship out tomorrow morning.” He raised an eyebrow and glanced at Nightfall’s mug. “And you should probably lay off the drinks too.”

“No way, this is only like my... sixth? I think?” The black unicorn hiccuped and shifted upwards in his wheelchair. Shining Armor had to try hard to avoid looking at the stumps where his hind legs used to be, but Nightfall was too drunk to notice. “Hey,” he said, pointing at a yellow mare on the far side of the room. “That lady’s quite the looker, isn’t she? Think I have a chance?”

Shining Armor glanced over. “She has a mole the size of a ten-bit coin.”

“Does she?” Nightfall hiccuped again. “Can’t spot it.”

The white unicorn sighed and shook his head, getting up from his seat. “Good luck, loverboy.”

“Hey, you should consider chasing some girls yourself.”

Shining Armor chuckled. “I couldn’t even get a date for the Graduation Dance, remember?”

“That’s because all the mares kept fainting every time you got close enough to ask.”

The commando snorted. “That’s not how I remember it.”

“And I’d always be the one to catch them.” Nightfall tried to drink from his mug again,only to realize it was already empty. “You know, you could probably bag a princess if you actually cared enough to try.” He looked up at the white unicorn. “Wouldn’t you like to settle down and go steady with a nice girl?”

Shining Armor sighed again, smiling and looking at the door. “Have fun, loverboy. I’m going home.”

Dressed in a blue gown that had lain untouched since her first meeting with the General-Secretary, Twilight Sparkle slunk into the conference room. The space was large but full, the walls adorned with maps and charts, and the dark chestnut table and chairs took up most of the space. Despite all the furniture, however, the room was decidedly empty, with only four other ponies seated at a table with room for dozens.

Blacknote was the closest, seated right next to the door. Surely it was impossible, but Twilight thought she looked even more serious than usual. The other three ponies were an unfamiliar bunch. Two were extremely dark gray, nearly black pegasi that might have been identical twins, though one wore a dark, ornately-decorated cowbell around his neck. The third was a female Earth pony, only a slighter lighter shade of gray than the pegasi, her body so light and stringy it looked as though she had been pulled in an industrial press.

All four pairs of eyes fell upon Twilight, who suddenly felt very small. “Welcome,” Blacknote greeted, and motioned towards a chair.

“Hello,” Twilight said uncertainly, taking her seat next to the General-Secretary. She glanced around the table.

The Earth pony stood up, a simple act that was somehow made unnatural by the sheer thinness of her limbs, as though it would be more proper for her to collapse like toothpicks at any moment. “Greetings, my fair lady. May you be the esteemed scientist that Madam Blacknote mentioned?”

“Uh.”

“Yes, she’s the one,” Blacknote answered, saving Twilight from having to come up with an answer to that.

The Earth pony nodded and made a deep bow. “If you would be so kind as to allow me to introduce myself, then. I am Light Unseen, official ambassador of Tartarus.”

Twilight blinked several times. Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly as myriad questions tried to work their way out of her throat all at once, but the only thing that got through was, “Huh?”

“Tartarus,” Blacknote repeated, her eyes not leaving Light Unseen.

Twilight looked at the General-Secretary. “I... didn’t know there were ponies from Tartarus.”

“Indeed,” was all Blacknote said.

“We are but an isolated tribe,” Light Unseen explained. Her voice was slow, like undulating waves washing up onto a beach in the early hours of morning. “Three hundred years ago, our ancestors sought to leave great suffering at the hands of the Lord of Chaos. In their flight to the gray mountains of the far north, they discovered the entrance to Tartarus. Their desperation great, they descended through the gate into the Lightless Realm and made the home of our tribe.”

This is a joke, right? Twilight couldn’t process what was happening. She kept expecting Blacknote to suddenly leap to the air and shout, “April Fools!” All she could do was shake her head in disbelief.

“Solarium first became aware of their existence during the Second Rune War,” Blacknote continued, still staring at the Tartarian ambassador. “A small skirmish took place between us and remnants of the griffon army a short distance from Tartarus. Then they came out and slaughtered both sides.”

Light Unseen made a deep bow. “Our greatest apologies. None had come close to the Outer Hall within the living memory of our tribe. Fear for our own safety was great amongst us, and regret has stained our thoughts ever since.”

The grand, elaborate gestures that accompanied her every word gave Light Unseen an air of insincerity, but perhaps that was simply a quirk of what was surely a strange and otherworldly culture. Twilight was completely out of her element here. She could read nothing from any of the ponies in the room, not the perpetually-smiling ambassador, not the eternally-expressionless General-Secretary, not even the stoic and unmoving pegasi in the far corner. They could all have been plotting to murder her and she wouldn’t have been any the wiser.

Blacknote blinked, the most she had moved since Twilight entered the room. “This is the first contact between us since that event.” Though her head did not turn, her eyes shifted towards Twilight.

Twilight looked down. Well, that explains the suddenness. The General-Secretary obviously had had little more warning of this than her. The Tartarians were as much an unknown to her as they were to Twilight, so...

“What do I have to do with this?”

Light Unseen took a deep breath. Her gaze wandered, seemingly seeing things around the room that nopony else could. “Troubles plague our time. A great fracturing of the powers that we rely on. We have but few unicorns, and none who are so knowledgeable in the magic arts. We need the aid of one who does.”

Twilight stared at the desk for a long time. “But... why me?”

“Because you are exceptional,” Blacknote answered. “And as there are no ponies alive who have any degree of expertise in this subject matter, a unicorn who is flexible in mind and creative in thought is the best-suited.” Twilight looked up at her, the little purple unicorn’s eyes filled with uncertainty. “Do you accept?”

Do I have a choice? Twilight closed her eyes and breathed. Her heart seemed tight, as though invisible ropes were constraining it. “Yes, of course,” she said firmly.

“Good. The Tartarians will tell you more once you arrive. Report to Tock Airport at ten o’clock tomorrow, Gate B.” Blacknote stood up and gestured. “Come with me for a moment.”

The two unicorns walked into the hallway and shut the door, where Blacknote bent down to meet Twilight’s eyes and whispered. “Sparkle, this mission is of critical importance. These Tartarians have pledged their assistance in the war if you succeed in helping them. I watched one of those pegasi cut a rock the size of a locomotive in half, and Tartarus undoubtedly has access to ancient magic beyond our imagination. If you cannot make any real progress in helping them, then convince them that progress has been made. Understand?”

Twilight nodded.

“Good. Take extensive notes and report back once you’ve returned. You will take one pony to accompany you. One pony.” Twilight could see Blacknote watching her eyes for the light of understanding. “No more, no less. Understand?”

And with that, all the tension in Twilight’s heart disappeared, replaced by the sinking feeling of disappointment. Yes, she understood, and this explained everything. It wasn’t Twilight that Blacknote wanted at all. It was her.

“Yes ma’am,” Twilight answered, and Blacknote stood back up.

Back at her apartment, Starswirl and Fluttershy were washing dishes when Twilight stormed through the door. In one swift motion she magically tore off her gown and shoved it into the corner with altogether too much force. She glared at Starswirl’s frightened and confused face.

“Start packing. We’re going to Tartarus.”

Unknown Correspondence

Dear Princess Celestia,

You’re probably never going to read this, so I feel silly writing this. But I have too many thoughts in my head, and I need to put them down on paper.

This world is so wrong. Every time I look at the newspaper, it’s all about war and killing. Even the advertisements all talk about buying things to support the war effort. I’m trying to understand it, but none of it makes any sense to me. Nothing I’ve ever learned has ever prepared me for this. The other me, this world’s Twilight Sparkle, is the same. War’s all she thinks about too. Every time I tell her about a spell, she tries to think of a way to use it to make war. And everything she works on is about making it easier to kill other ponies. When I look at her, it scares me. But it’s not because of what she’s like. It’s the thought that I could have been like that, if I had been born in this world.

Why? Why is everything so wrong here? Why does this world exist, and why is it so different?

I’ve learned a lot about their history, as much as they know, which isn’t much since they have almost nothing from before they defeated Discord. But everything I’ve learned points to a single fact: when you and Princess Luna fought Discord in this world, for some reason, Discord won. I don’t know why yet, but I’ve been thinking. Starswirl the Bearded’s time travel spell doesn’t let you change the past, it only lets you do what’s already been done. But maybe another spell could. Maybe somepony—no, someone could do it, someone with incredible magic, someone who would want you and Princess Luna to lose...

But Discord’s good now, isn’t he? He can’t have been that bad to actually want you dead...

I’ve been trying to teach this world’s Twilight about all the things I know, about magic and friendship and everything else. But every time I help her she just gives me that smile. I know it’s fake, I can tell because it’s my own face. But I don’t understand why.

I want to go home, I miss you and my friends so badly. I’m sure you’re all trying to find me, but I don’t know if you can succeed. And I’m not sure I would go back if you did. I want to fix this world. These ponies don’t know what’s wrong with it, but I do. They need my knowledge, they need me, but I don’t know if I can do it. It’s like a test of everything I’ve ever learned.

Actually...

It IS a test of everything I’ve ever learned.

... and I’m going to ace it.

Thanks for everything, Princess, and wish me luck.

Your Faithful Student,

Twilight Sparkle

Author's Note

I can't figure out how to make Fimfiction put those last two lines on the right side of the page, if anyone here knows please let me know.

Anyways, we're at last getting to the fun parts of the story. The next chapter's going to focus on Rainbow Dash a bit, but after that we'll get right back to Twilight(s) and Shining Armor and their... dangerous new challenges.

Chapter 10: White Orchestra

Chapter 10
White Orchestra

“To be brave is not to believe that there is nothing to fear. It is to know that some things are more important than fear.”
- Unknown

Of the many players in the Third Rune War, Trottingham was amongst the smallest. More of a town than an actual city, it was a place steeped in history, being one of the few places to have survived Discord’s reign intact and to have escaped the fallout of the ensuing wars. The light of the quarter-moon reflected off ancient humble cobblestone streets and black-tiled roofs, and the city’s age showed in the unassuming brick row houses and the lovingly maintained, but hopelessly outdated infrastructure. It was the capital of its own homegrown democracy, a beacon of freedom that had the great misfortune of being on the wrong side of the Chaos Mountains.

The city was abuzz in activity. Squadrons of pegasi patrolled the skies, shaping the cloudscape above to be favorable for defensive positions. Teams of Earth ponies piled sandbags up into makeshift fortresses and strung long lengths of barbed wire across cobble avenues. Aging weapon systems had been dusted off and brought forth from storage to arm fortifications at the city perimeter. From her vantage point on a cloud high above the outskirts of the city, Rainbow Dash listened to the sounds of industry as the ponies below prepared to defend their home. The skies were still dark and the moonlight was weak, rendering it impossible to see much detail at all. Despite the darkness, however, Rainbow Dash felt no urge to sleep.

The sun was due to rise in two hours.

Her eyes scanned back and forth across the horizon like a radar dish. After the attack on Solarium, the Cloudsdale airfleet had retreated to Trottingham. Cut off from the other Free States by the Chaos Mountains, Trottingham could not expect much other help from its allies. Its greatest defense was its inconsequentiality—though nominally at war with the Imperial States, in truth it possessed little offensive capability. Its strategic value lay in its ability to act as a base from which espionage and harassment missions could be launched. Which was why they were here now, reinforcing the Trottingham defenders.

Dash sighed, seeing nothing but ordinary clouds as far the horizon. Defending is so boring, she thought. Being part of the first attack wave of the entire war had been exciting and all, but now it came at the price of being stuck guarding this little backwater town for the foreseeable future. If only they had been assigned to Baltimare—the siege of that city could last for months of nonstop fighting as massive artillery batteries traded blows and Cloudsdale’s Cumulofortress rained kilotons of firepower upon the city’s shields. Rainbow Dash’s blood pumped harder just thinking about it.

Just then, a blue-green streak slashed across the sky, catching the corner of Rainbow Dash’s eye. The pegasus sprang to her feet as the dot grew larger, eventually emerging as the familiar face of Lightning Dust.

Lightning Dust blasted through the air towards her, coming to an unusually rough landing on top of Dash’s cloud. She was gasping for breath, and a shiver ran down Rainbow Dash’s spine as she took in an expression hitherto unseen on Lightning Dust’s face: fear. The exhausted pegasus put a hoof on her heaving chest, head faced down towards the ground. “I need to get to General Spitfire!”

Rainbow Dash gauged the mare, carefully keeping worry from gracing her face. “What’s going on?”

Lightning Dust looked up and met Dash’s eyes. There was none of the cocky, arrogant swagger that Rainbow Dash had come to associate with the mare. “Solarium’s crossed the river! They’ve built a bridge; tanks, crossing now!”

Dash’s eyes widened. Maybe this won’t be so boring after all! “How many?”

“Umm...” Lightning Dust closed her eyes. Her mouth worked as though counting the remembered enemies out loud, and she shook her head several times. When she opened her eyes again they were struck by a kind of bewilderment at sights unseen.

“All of them, I think.”

Solarium’s Rapid Assembly Vehicle was the pinnacle of wartime industry. Straddling two separate railroad tracks, it was nothing less than an assembly plant on wheels, pulled along by six hulking metal steam locomotives. As the train marched across the grassy, moonlit fields on its way to Trottingham, metal and concrete continually flew out from the supply carts linked behind it, propelled through the air by the RAV’s titanic telekinesis engines, endlessly coalescing into new lengths of railroads as fast as the locomotives could pull. Using prefabricated parts, it could raise military bases from the ground within minutes, span rivers with steel bridges in hours. Such a feat of military industry was essential for Solarium to drive its largest machines into battle: the many-barreled Hydra artillery pieces, the gargantuan Leviathan superheavy tanks, the enormous Mobile Shield Engines that protected its sieging armies...

Oversight watched the RAV’s progress from the Second Airfleet’s flagship, the Magnificent. Solarium’s entire Second Army Group marched towards Trottingham. It was an altogether excessive amount of force for the tiny city, but morale was at a low since their failure to stop the Manehattanites from escaping into the Obsidian Caves, and the ponies of Solarium cried for vengeance.

“Trottingham should be visible in approximately fifteen minutes,” the navigator from up higher on the bridge.

From his command chair, General Greenblade cracked his neck and turned to a gray pegasus besides him. “You there, deliver a message to Trottingham. Tell them they have half an hour to surrender, or we’re going to steamroll their little village so flat their great-grandchildren won’t even be able to figure out where it was.”

The pegasus saluted dashed off. Greenblade turned to the rest of the bridge to bark orders. “Alright, mares and stallions. This is a textbook assault operation. Take it slow and steady and play it safe. Once the path for the Princess is clear, we’ll roll her in and be done by dinnertime.”

Oversight flicked open the gate of the dominator engine’s cage and stepped inside. As he took his seat, the noise of the engine’s cores rose in pitch, mirroring the rise in his own feelings of anticipation. This is it. There had been constant skirmishes between the city-states over land and politics throughout the so-called peace that had filled the land in the past decades, but city sieges were a phenomenon relegated only to the Rune Wars themselves. They were the crown jewel of warfare, the ultimate field of battle for every soldier and commanding officer.

It was time to make history.

Spitfire, three-star general of the Cloudsdale Air Force, shook her head once more at the map on the table. “This doesn’t make any sense. Trottingham’s never been anything but a tertiary objective in any of our simulations. They’ve brought the Second Army Group—the entire Second Army Group!”

The heads of the Trottingham military were arrayed around the room. Their shadows flickered in the candlelight against the worn stone walls and aging wooden furniture that made her feel like an old-fashioned knight rather than a modern commander. The old keep of Trottingham Castle had been requisitioned as their military headquarters due to the prestige and impregnability of the place, but the very durability of the walls that made them so attractive defensively made it a difficult facility to modernize.

“What do you suggest we do?” the one and only Trottingham general asked. Though decades Spitfire’s elder, the yellow pegasus had more combat experience in one hoof than he did in his entire body.

Spitfire sighed. They weren’t going to like her suggestion, but she saw no other option. “Retreat. Get as many of our forces across the mountains as we can. We don’t stand a chance, and every soldier that gets out is a soldier than can fight.”

“And abandon our home?” By the look on the general’s face, Spitfire might as well have suggested he go mount himself. “Some of our families have lived here for centuries. We will not give up so easily.”

Yeah, I didn’t think so, but it was worth a shot. Spitfire sighed again. But she would not resign herself, and more importantly, the ponies under her command, to such a fate. “Fine, Plan B then. We’ll engage their first wave, then when they overwhelm us we’ll retreat behind the city shield and try to last as long as we can.” Yeah right.

“The shield should be able to last a few months...” one of the other commanders suggested.

Spitfire scoffed. “I doubt that. A few weeks, at the most.”

“A few weeks.” The old stallion repeated her words like they were acid. “A shield designed to last the entire length of this war... will last a few weeks?”

Spitfire crossed her hooves and flicked her tail. “It wasn’t designed to last against Solarium’s entire Second Army.” She glanced at the window. Imbeciles. These Trottingham ponies were noble, but they had no idea what they were getting into. And it had been her job to somehow teach them, but it was far too late for that. This has got to be the worst assignment ever.

“It’s not all that bad,” she continued. “Even the worst scenario I can imagine, we should be able to hold out at least a week. That’s a week in which half of Solarium’s firepower is tied up attacking—” a worthless target, she had been about to say, but that would have gone over poorly, “—us, so that’s a week where the rest of our forces can exploit that.” And it’s why I can’t fathom why they would do this, she added mentally. Solarium hardly had the kind of resources to tie up in frivolous pursuits.

“And is a week long enough for Manehattan or Fillydelphia to reinforce us?”

Spitfire shook her head again. “Wouldn’t matter. Their air forces aren’t big enough to ship enough soldiers across the mountains to make a difference. We’re alone here.”

The general looked at the map again. "Then we shall fight to the end. Every inch they take of this city they shall pay for a thousandfold in blood.”

Yeah. You do that.

Watching Shining Armor’s reaction as Crystalline entered the briefing room was amusing. The emotions were subtle, and a pony that wasn’t looking for them might not have noticed, but they were unmistakably there. First was confusion, then indignation, then fury. Taking her seat next to him around the table, Crystalline merely flashed a smile to him and the Intelligence officer on the other side.

“Ma’am,” she nodded towards the small brown mare.

“Miss Crystalline.” The lieutenant’s response was curt and cold. That was fine; Crystalline didn’t expect to be warmly welcomed by anypony in Canterlot. Not after she went rogue. “I will inform General Chess Blitz you’ve arrived.” She quickly left via the back door.

“Why are you here?” Shining Armor asked, his eyes fixed on the far wall.

“To spite you,” she answered.

He turned towards her, eyeing the slightly-swollen side of her face as he tried to decide if she was joking or not. “Somehow, I don’t think you’re the type to risk her life just to spite me.”

“You don’t know me.” Her tone added, and this conversation is over.

The door opened again, and Chess Blitz walked in. Shining Armor leapt to his feet and saluted. “At ease, Captain,” Chess Blitz said. “Captain, if you’d give us a few alone, please...”

Shining Armor visible tensed, unsure what to think. “Yes sir,” he begrudgingly answered, and slowly walked out, eyeing the back of Crystalline’s head the entire time.

Chess Blitz sighed and sat down across from her. His eyes were shadowed, weary. “Why are you doing this?”

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Wanted, yes. Expected, no.” Chess Blitz frowned. “I know how much you hate that place. What could possibly make you want to go back?”

“That’s my business, and none of yours.”

Chess Blitz closed his eyes. “Please, Crystalline. Don’t try to prove yourself anymore. Give up your blades and come home. Your parents miss you.”

Crystalline snorted, looking away towards the maps on the wall. “You used to believe in me.”

“And I still do. I know you’ve got an independent streak so wide I’m surprised you haven’t burned off your cutie mark yet. But this just isn’t the life for you.”

She shook her head. “I’ll decide what’s the life for me, thank you very much.”

Chess Blitz sighed. “You always did make me feel like a tired old stallion.” He breathed, seeming to surge with new energy. “Very well, I’ll let you go. But you will take orders from Captain Shining Armor this time, and you will not antagonize him further, understand?”

Crystalline still refused to meet his eyes. “Fine.”

“Do it as a favor to me.”

She looked down as the old general left the room.

There wasn’t much to see from the inside of a cloud, just a suffocating white fog in every direction. Claustrophobia was fairly common amongst Cloudsdale pegasi, who lived the majority of their lives in the open sky, and even their homes were open and roomy, for construction was much easier when your material was mere water vapor. For Rainbow Dash, there was just a twinge of nervousness as she sat hiding within the cloud. It was intensely disorienting to have her eyes open, looking around, and yet the view never changing from the omnipresent whiteness.

So she closed her eyes and listened.

The wind howled, distant but clear, as it always did at these altitudes. Far below, an owl hooted, and some birds twittered—early risers preempting the coming dawn. The faraway din of Trottingham ran like a low current beneath the surface, the ponies of the city scrambling to defend themselves now that the Solarium attack was almost here. And below even that tumult, and only if Rainbow Dash truly strained to hear it, was the ceaseless rumbling of endless divisions of armor and mechanized infantry.

The thunder-like booming of long-range artillery announced the start of battle. Artillery shells whistled through the air, followed by the shockwaves of their sonic booms. Flames roared as great gouts of dragonfire burst forth from the ground, Second Rune War-style flamethrower mines that would incinerate infantry and even scorch through the armor of light tanks. The pounding of cannons as Solarium tanks met Trottingham gun emplacements grew into an unending thunderstorm, shaking even the skies above.

Rainbow Dash continued to wait. Every muscle in her body was screaming to spring into action, every fiber of her being tense. There was no way to tell, from sound alone, what was happening, if the Solarium attackers were effortlessly crushing all resistance or the Trottingham defenders were holding their ground.

And then, the trumpet. Three short notes, shooting upwards in tone. Rainbow Dash could not hear the rising flutter of thousands of wings as Cloudsdale’s squadrons took to the air. She tensed at the imagined sound, but it was not yet her time. Only in her mind’s eye could she see the vast cloudscape, the roiling white spires and twisting spires of gray thunderclouds. It was an artificial battlefield, one crafted by the defenders themselves from the waters of the Sunsong River that flowed by Trottingham, and honed to their needs. The cumulofrigates, warships of water vapor, would detach themselves from the cloudscape, strike without warning at the Solarium airships with wind and lightning, then merge back into the cloudscape to await their next target. It was a brutally effective defensive tactic, one that had served Cloudsdale well in their wars afore, for it left the attacker no safe avenues of attack except to waste endless lives trying to destroy the cloud cover.

Hooves landed on her cloud, and Rainbow Dash heard First Lieutenant Copper bark, “Private, quit sleeping in there and prepare to launch!”

With practiced ease Dash burst upwards out of the cloud, flaring her wings dramatically against the moon. Ah, fresh air! “Yes ma’am!”

Copper turned and pointed to a bulbous white, black and gold form of a Solarium frigate crashing through the clouds ahead. It was being swarmed by colorful dots attempting to tear holes in the balloon, while its own escort of pegasi and gun chariots fought them off. As Rainbow Dash watched, a massive bolt of lightning suddenly erupted from a nearby pillar of cloud, striking the side of the airship’s gondola. The battle was too far away from her to tell if the attack had been effective; thunder roared, and more lightning flashed in the distance, engaging the dozen zeppelin frigates of Solarium’s first wave.

“That’s our target,” Copper said. “Follow me, and hit it on my signal.” She motioned to a mechanism on her back with a control button attached to her front left leg.

The two pegasi blasted into the air, soaring towards the chaotic swirling combatants. Rainbow Dash climbed high into the air above the battle, feeling the icy chill in her coat and the pressure of her helmet against her head, clinking the metal claws on her front shoes together in anticipation. She watched as Copper joined the fray, four other pegasi trailing behind her in a V formation as she tore across the upper surface of the frigate’s balloon, cutting small slits in it at she went. The balloon’s material was a tough, metallic fabric, and did not tear easily—due to the tiny pressure difference, even the biggest holes would take hours for the ship’s helium to leak out substantially. Which of course, was why Dash was here.

The mechanism on Copper’s back surged, emanating a bright white light. Dash dived, punching through the air with all her strength, her rainbow trail cutting apart the sky. She judged the distance between her and the airship, adjusting her direction to aim exactly at the largest hole Copper’s squadron had just cut, and timed her speed increase perfectly...

She tucked in her wings, and slipped right through the hole. A millisecond later she punched into one of the ship’s gas bags, the wall of air built up in front of her by sheer speed blasting right through the thin fabric. Then she flapped her wings one last time for that final burst of speed.

Ssssh-ch-pyuum!

The sonic rainboom tore apart the inside of the airship’s balloon, obliterating gas bags and twisting the steel frame into mangled fingers. Rainbow Dash twisted her body, using the force of the rainboom to blast her up and out of the airship as it violently exploded around her. As she screamed into the air the frigate fell apart. The gondola itself plunged through the air, still attached to a rough third of the balloon. Dash could see bodies jump out the doors, some spreading their wings into flight, others not so lucky to have such appendages. The little aerial battle quickly ceased as the Solarium pegasi nearby all dived to save their comrades.

Rainbow Dash was met with cheers from her friends. Chest swelling with pride, she flew on towards the next target...

The bridge of the Magnificent was a swarming hive of activity. Scrolls flew through the air, appearing and disappearing into flames, shouts echoed with the metal confines of the command center, levers flicked up and down as operators mashed buttons repeatedly. “Get a Shock Trooper team to take out the artillery battery behind that hill!” Greenblade shouted, his voice rising above the din. “Hydras, focus on the major turrets on the first gun emplacement line!” The view out the window swung as the airship swerved around to bring its main guns to bear, and the massive broadside rocked the floor. The shells rained down onto the cyan shields of Trottingham’s giant stationary guns, huge triple-barreled turrets embedded on great towers surrounding the city.

The battle was going well. Once the fields of flamethrower mines had been cleared, there had been a minimum of delay before the tank divisions started rolling. The eastern field was already taken, the northern one all but, and the southeast field was only delayed by fierce resistance on a well-fortified hill, already withering in the face of massive artillery bombardment. The first line of tanks were being held up by the Trottingham’s outer ring of defensive turrets, but as more Leviathans crawled up to the front those too would fall.

Oversight could feel the eager anticipation of the new recruits, the grim determination of the veterans, contrasted like the roaring hotness of a fresh flame against the soft methodical coals of a mature blaze. The battlefield for him consisted of hundreds of such flickering mental flames, like little candles that lit up the psychic darkness. Only those ponies with special training, “receivers”, as he thought of them, could open their minds up to this benign version of the dominator engine, so his view of the battlefield was scattered and incomplete. Sometimes this frustrated him as he struggled to form a clear picture of what was going on, but the full force of tens of thousands of minds would have obliterated his psyche, magical protection or no magical protection.

The sonic rainboom splashed across the sky, clearly visible even from the bridge of the Magnificent, its colors penetrating even the cyan shield bubble that surrounded the vessel. For a moment, the swarm ceased as all the ponies all watched the circular rainbow expand and dissipate. “She’s here,” a lieutenant said, simply stating the obvious.

Oversight frowned, mentally zooming in on that particular patch. There were three receivers in that area. Two were plunging to the ground, one was flying outside. He could feel the rush of wind, the panic, the pain. One candle flame caught another, while the third flickered out. It was hard not to be sympathetic, but his job demanded his attention. “Shall I implement a capture order?” Oversight asked.

Greenblade shrugged. “You can try.”

Colonel Stonehammer, a large, burly gray pegasus that had been scooting little metal icons across the tactical map, turned to the general. “That confirms that this is the same regiment that attacked Solarium.” His face was etched with a grim thirst for vengeance.

Greenblade merely smirked. “That’s hardly news, Colonel.” His eyes turned towards the tactical map. “Our initial probes indicate that the bulk of their aerial defenses are concentrated on the northern side. Curious. Why do you think that might be, Colonel?”

Stonehammer’s eyebrows pressed together as he pored over the map. “It’s a terrible position to cover their primary defenses from. They’re too far from the battlelines on the ground to respond effectively. They haven’t committed, but it’s too open a position to commit from.” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Greenblade tapped his hoof on the table. “Think politics, not tactics. The land defenders are from Trottingham, the air forces are from Cloudsdale.” He looked up. “General Spitfire is well aware of how untenable their situation is, and is refusing to commit her forces to a position where it might be hard to retreat from. Give her a good crack of the whip and she’ll probably break and run.” He grinned. “Makes our job easier.” He turned to the dominator engine. “Oversight? How would you propose we crack said whip?”

Oversight scrunched up his eyes, concentrating on the layout of the battlefield. It was obviously a rhetorical question, and one with an exceedingly obvious answer, but that was exactly what made him unsure if the obvious answer was the right one. He tried to crush the uncertainty from his voice. “Have the Task Group Cyclone line up at half a click from the enemy lines and broadside with vortex cannons.”

To his relief, Greenblade nodded contentedly. “Make it so.”

“Roger that.” Oversight closed his eyes, letting the dominator engine envelop his psyche as his mind reached out across time and space to the calm and confident thoughts of the airship captains of the Second Airfleet.

Rainbow Dash was soared into the air, racing around a cloud pillar in an effort to lose her pursuers. They were coming for her—they always came for her. The Solarium gun chariot blasted straight through the cloud pillar and climbed after her, its unicorn gunner firing weak stun bolts from his horn. Dash spiraled around evasively before twisting back downwards, racing past the less agile gun chariot. As she did, she felt the unicorn’s telekinetic pull on her tail, but he could do little except slow her down. Six Cloudsdale pegasi blew past her towards the gun chariot, and Dash smiled at the chariot’s predicament. Reckless! Rushing beyond your friends like that! Those chariot-pullers could have used some of good ol’ Sergeant Cumulus Catcher’s drilling.

Pegasi were dogfighting down below, trying to pierce each other with lances or slashing with claws on their hooves and blades on their wings. Dash snarled. She knew her place: retreat, hide in a cloud until the next airship comes along. It wasn’t her job to deal with the pegasi fliers—she was too valuable, too irreplaceable an asset, and every time she flew out it was with an entire squadron escorting her. Still, it burned that she had to hide when her friends were fighting. War for her would always be impersonal. She fought metal and helium, not flesh and feathers.

A horn rang, but it wasn’t the distinctive Cloudsdale trumpet. Rainbow Dash watched as the Solarium ponies suddenly began peeling off from their dogfights and retreating en masse. She slowed down to a hover, watching curiously as they sped away...

… into an incoming line of airships.

She grinned. My turn. But even as she thought those words, she noticed something was wrong. Rather than closing into beam cannon range, the airships were slowing down, coming to a stop half a kilometer away from the tip of the Cloudsdale defensive line. Dash squinted. These airships were different—there were strange mechanisms on the sides, like nothing she had ever seen before. They were wiry, circular frames embedded in a rectangular machine, and didn’t look like any kind of weapon.

Then, as one, the mechanisms transformed. The wiry frames extended long poles, around which were arrayed long blades, waving in incredibly complex patterns that confused her eyes just to follow them. The design looked as if it was inspired by an electric fan, in the sense that the design of a surgical scalpel might have had some relation to a flint machete.

Then they began to rotate, drawing and compressing air within them into circular patterns, creating rising cylinders of wind that quickly surpassed the airships themselves, cylinders that were all too familiar to Rainbow Dash. Each ship was summoning two massive tornadoes on either side.

“Get out of the way!” she shouted, plunging into a dive. Moments later, Task Group Cyclone unleashed their broadside, a wall of roaring, twisting wind that stormed towards the enemy lines, vaporizing the hurriedly-crafted cloud defenses. Impossibly, the tornados continued to grow in size and strength even once they had left the mechanisms which had birthed them, and Rainbow Dash realized it was much too late to escape.

The onrushing storm smacked her from her trajectory like a gigantic hoof, sending her spinning head-over-tail. The world blurred into a giant gray soup. She tried every trick she knew to fight to tornado and regain control of her own path, but she might as well have been trying to reason with it. Dark streaks rushed past her, other pegasi caught in the storm. Dash tucked in her wings and curled up into a ball, figuring it might at least minimize her injuries if she hit something. Any good flier could make a small tornado, but only the best could regain control over one that raged out of it, and she had never even heard of it being done to ones this large.

The wind began to slow down. At last, the vortex was dissipating, but not before it spat Rainbow Dash out like a sunflower seed shell. Immediately Dash flared her wings and fought the air—she was plummeting almost straight down towards the Trottingham city shield, and flapped desperately to try and gain altitude.

Too little, too late. Dash had just enough time to reflect on the appropriateness of her childhood nickname before smashing into the cyan bubble face-first. She remained there for a few moments, all six limbs flattened out to the sides, before beginning to slide down the bubble, making a long squeaking noise.

Still better than that time I broke the roof of the Thundercloud Manufactory...

Once her brain had stopped bouncing around inside her skull, she flipped around so as to be sliding on her back. She was racing down the side of the bubble shield, gaining speed all the while. Dash flared her wings, trying to catch the wind, but there was no way to take off from this position. She clenched her teeth, trying desperately to think of something, as artillery fire pounded against other parts of the shield, sending vibrations to rattle her bones. Trottingham was returning fire as well, as small holes opened up in the shield for artillery shells on their way out.

One such hole opened up right in front of her. Rainbow Dash had just enough time to register its existence before she fell through. Less than a millisecond later, a shell all but grazed her mane, and the hole closed back up.

Her heart thudded like somepony was beating a gong in her chest. She opened her wings once more, and this time the wind caught the right way, and she felt lift fill her feathers in a proper glide. She sighed, glad to be off the knife’s edge of death at last.

The trumpet sounded, echoing in the distance. Three notes, each lower than the last. No. It couldn’t be.

But it was. All across the sky, Dash saw tiny colorful shapes turn away from the battle and soar away. Her mouth hung as wide open as her eyes, unable to comprehend what was happening.

They were retreating. No, they were running away. Leaving Trottingham, abandoning all these ponies on the ground fighting desperately for their lives...

Abandoning her.

She didn’t even think to flap her wings until after she flew face-first into the clock tower.

“Enemy air forces in full retreat, sir,” Oversight reported, with no small amount of satisfaction. All across the battlefield, there was a lull in the enemy fire. Artillery pieces went quiet, machine gun emplacements stop rattling as the shocked defenders watched their allies retreat.

“We’re going to have to work on that coordination,” Greenblade responded coolly, not even turning from the bridge windows to crush Oversight’s sense of accomplishment. “We want to stagger the attack pattern vertically to maximize the the space covered, and fire off from the edge inwards so there’s minimal time to escape.” Oversight’s heart sank—the fact that Greenblade treated everypony like cadets in a training exercise was what made working for him the fast track to promotion, but it could get so irritating.

Greenblade paused and smiled, evidently aware of Oversight’s discomfort. “Now then, ladies and gentlecolts,” he addressed the entire bridge crew, “I think it’s time to roll in the Princess.”

One hundred thousand tons of gleaming metal, shining brightly in the white, obsidian and gold colors of Solarium, clanked its inexorable way to Trottingham. Its octuple tread systems left deep furrows in the soft soil that could have been the foundations for a highway system. Princess Morningstar was far too large for the even the mighty double-rail system laid down by the RAVs that transported Solarium’s other gargantuan war machines. It traversed the earth on its own power alone, a landship that could rival or surpass any of the great battleships built to sail the world’s oceans, and it was a silent hint at the awesome power contained within that the titanic vessel could keep up with the much smaller, nimbler vehicles of Solarium’s armed forces.

Timberwolf and Minotaur tanks scattered before it like mice before an elephant. Not just to avoid being crushed beneath its awesome treads, but to escape the hailstorm of fire that rained down upon it. Princess Morningstar was many things, but subtle was not one of them; its arrival onto the battlefield was immediately met with every available Trottingham artillery piece turning against it, and simply being near her was enough to risk death by metal from the sky. Which of course, was the point: every shot effortlessly absorbed by its shield was a shell that was not spent on the Solarium squads bearing down on the artillery batteries themselves. And as she advanced, Morningstar’s guns responded in kind, each of the four triple guns booming with the strength of a thundergod against distant stationary turrets, bullets raining down in sheets that obliterated barricades and bunkers through sheer mass of metal.

Finally, she reached the edge of the Trottingham city shield. And here even this mightiest of war machines seemed small against the vastness of that cyan dome, stretching miles into the sky in every direction to envelop the city and its surroundings entirely. It was a defense built to withstand the test of time, to hold out for an entire war, powered by rune cores the size of buildings and tended by an army of engineers and technicians, the single most expensive piece of equipment in all of Trottingham that had more magic surging through it than entire civilizations had burnt through in their lifetimes, and yet this shield did not even compare to the still mightier defenses of Solarium or Manehattan. One by one, Morningstar’s guns fell silent. Its own shield shrunk and vanished into nothingness as it crawled up to the city shield, so close a pony standing on her deck could have hit the shield with a thrown rock.

It was then she revealed her primary weapon.

A massive round aperture opened in her front end, like the opening of the maw of some great carnivorous ocean beast, rising up to swallow ships whole. There was a sound that filled the air, the sound of gargantuan rune cores accelerating to their maximum speed, then a descending tone as colossal capacitors discharged their energy.

A ten thousand ton rod of metal exploded out from the maw at almost 100 meters per second and smashed into the city shield like the hammerblow of an angry god. The shockwave sent up enormous clouds of dust on the ground as the shield itself shuddered from the titanic blow. The ten thousand ton metal rod, the mother of all battering rams, slowly sunk back into the maw.

The entire battlefield fell silent, as all turned to watch the surreal, impossible sight in glory or horror. Princess Morningstar recharged. The descending tone filled the air again, and the city itself seemed to shudder from the blow. The battle began once more, as the shock wore off on either side, and the Trottingham defenders lashed out ever more desperately. Again the battering ram fired. Tiny, barely-perceptible cracks began to appear in the shield that was supposed to protect the city for the entire war. The sledgehammer struck again. The cracks crawled and splintered across the face of the shield like shards of slow-motion lightning. Once more the world shuddered, and ten thousand tons of metal knocked out shards of the shield, creating tiny gaps in the impact site.

Finally, on the sixth blow, the shield crumbled. Huge jagged shards of crystallized magical energy shattered and rained down onto the city in torrents, dissipating into nothingness, as a sound like ten thousand mirrors breaking echoed throughout the valley.

Then the panic began.

Shouts and whinnies filled the air as the population of Trottingham took to the streets. Already the main roads were clogged with carts as thousands of ponies sought to flee the city, carrying with them all that they could fit on the shoddy wooden constructions and piling all else that they could onto their own backs. Smarter, more desperate, or simply poorer ponies overflowed into the narrow alleyways, while some of the more athletic ones leapt across rooftops. A few pegasi soared across the sky, keeping low, well below cloud level, some dragging pony-filled carts behind them—families that had undoubtedly paid hefty sums to the few pegasi living in Trottingham to get them out as soon as possible. Further up in the sky above them were the ominous silhouettes of the Solarium armada, outlined against the clouds and torched red-orange by the rising sun.

Rainbow Dash made a slow, flat arc over the rooftops, unsure what to do. The Trottingham military was nominally trying to maintain control, but at this point it was questionable if it was even in control of itself. The battle was clearly lost, the pounding of distant artillery growing more and more infrequent. Dash didn’t know what was happening outside the city, and dared not fly high enough to find out, lest those airships hovering threateningly overhead decide she was a target.

Why aren’t they attacking? The airships were just floating there, not even bothering to fire their weapons. And other than the massive landship, no Solarium forces had breached the city boundaries. It didn’t make any sense; they were giving the defenders time to regroup. Maybe they just didn’t care, so smug in their superiority that they couldn’t conceive of any actions the defenders might take making any difference, and were already lounging on their chairs and drinking tea, congratulating themselves.

She grit her teeth. She could leave with the civilians, following her countryponies back to Cloudsdale, or she could stay and fight it a futile battle in which her contribution would almost certainly make no difference. It wasn’t much of a choice. She started searching for a Trottingham command post. Surely this city of Earth ponies could find use for a pegasus.

“General, Colonel Hardhelm would like to reiterate his opinion that we should press the attack now.”

Greenblade lounged back in his chair and lit a cigar, puffing happily now that the Trottingham forces were in full retreat. Somewhere, a lowly officer was brewing him a cup of tea. “You can tell Colonel Hardhelm,” he mumbled, then put the cigar on the table, “it would be most ungentlecoltly of us to attack before they’ve had a fair chance to evacuate their civilians from the forward areas. And then you can tell him where to stuff his opinion.” He put his cigar back in his mouth. The general atmosphere on the bridge reflected his attitude.

Oversight rubbed his gently throbbing head and stared out the bridge window, taking a well-deserved break from psychically coordinating ten thousand soldiers. There were about two hours left before the attack would recommence, plenty of time for him to get some food. Trottingham hung below. Already the thin columns of smoke were rising up from the city, and they hadn’t even begun attacking yet. He wondered what they’d face in terms of urban warfare. Probably not much, as the defenders likely hadn’t done much in the way of preparing defenses inside the shield.

He squinted. Oversight lacked the more-developed eyesight of a pegasus, and in fact had pretty poor vision even for a unicorn, but he was just able to make out the tiny swarming dots that were the panicking civilians. They trailed out from the far end of the town, streaming across the land like a migrating colony of army ants. Some of them would be bunkering down in safer parts of the city, some would be leaving to make the dangerous journey across the Chaos Mountains, and undoubtedly some of the more stubborn ones would be sitting tight in their homes. Two hours ought to be enough for most of who wanted to get out to get out.

He squinted harder, trying to gauge at how wide the streets were, and wondered how the tanks were going to fit.

As it turned out, they didn’t have to.

Solarium Vehicular Tactics Primer - Solarium Field Manual (Excerpt)

Through advanced technology and intensive training, the Solarium armed forces are, pound for pound, the toughest in the world. Though they may be outmanned and outgunned, they are never outmatched. Solarium vehicular design emphasizes quality over quantity, and every vehicle that comes off of the assembly line is superior to its combined counterparts on the other side of the Chaos Mountains. “Combined”, because Solarium vehicles integrate multiple roles into a single platform: for example, the Parasprite Light Tank, which serves not only as a fast attack vehicle, but also as the primary infantry fighting vehicle, supporting Solarium infantry divisions and overrunning enemy positions. And whereas Manehattan and Fillydelphia have developed specialized anti-air vehicles, Solarium tanks are more than equipped to deal with gun chariots and low-flying airships...

The standard Solarium assault tactic can be best thought of as a steamroller. Minotaur Heavy Tanks form the core of the Solarium assault line. These house-sized tanks serve as mobile bunkers, creating what is essentially a moving line of fortifications that advance across the battlefield. Although invulnerable from the front to all but heavy stationary defenses, their bulk renders them easily outmaneuvered, and so are always supported by Timberwolf Medium Tanks, which prevent fast-moving enemy vehicles from exploiting their weaker side and rear armor. When all else fails, however, Solarium turns to the Leviathan. Standing at three-and-a-half stories tall, this superheavy tank lives up to its reputation of invincibility, and can duel with even the most powerful stationary defenses. Named for the mythological beast said to dwell in the deepest depths of the ocean, many an enemy’s last sight has been this advancing wall of steel, wreathed in flame, crushing bunkers, barricades and the husks of lesser tanks beneath its treads, spitting fire from every port...

Chapter 11: Hell March

Chapter 11
Hell March

“I’ve had my fill of war. Trouble is, I don’t think war’s had its fill of me.”
- General Spitfire, after the Manehattan Civil War

The orchestra of war once again echoed across the city. The somber gray clouds had rolled back, letting the early morning light stream down from the blue skies above, giving the Solarium airships a clear line of sight as they obliterated troublesome buildings. The weather was bright and cheery, which annoyed Rainbow Dash to no end.

The Trottingham army could accomplish remarkable feats, if they put their mind to it. In two hours they had managed to clear out the major avenues and barricade them. Rainbow Dash was running behind one such makeshift barrier of sandbags and assorted junk, carrying sacks of ammunition and supplies on her back.

Running, not flying. She had already seen what happened to pegasi who tried to fly more than a few feet above the ground. Poking more than a helmeted head over a sandbag wall was a bad idea. It wasn’t where she wanted to be, but Trottingham’s newfound distrust of anything to do with Cloudsdale slid the option of being on the front lines away from her. Still, even the most distrustful soldier wouldn’t say no to ten boxes of bullets when staring down a Solarium infantry rush.

She darted through an alleyway and, after checking some street signs, found her destination. A long mound of furniture, vendor stands, and carts packed in with sand and rubble blocked half the four-lane avenue, and the soldiers were hurriedly dumping more on the rest of the road, protected by an APC that guarded the unbarricaded half. A pair of machine guns mounted on top of the makeshift wall rattled away at something down the road, while an anti-tank gun was being set up to their rear, behind the broken corpse of another one. The gunners took no notice of Rainbow Dash as she dumped her sacks near the machine guns, so she chanced a peek over the barricade.

Solarium was slowly advancing down the street. The ruins of a Solarium light tank with a gaping hole in the side of its hull was the temporary cover for a squad of enemy Earth ponies, pinned down by the machine guns. Further down, a massive Minotaur tank was obliterating the paving bricks as it rolled forward, its turret aimed to the right to deal with some unseen foe. More Solarium squads were trying to make their way against the enemy lines, with slow progress, dashing from cover to cover. Suddenly, a massive column of purple fire burst forth from the ground, consuming the Minotaur. Rainbow Dash started to cheer, but the sound died in her throat before it could leave her mouth as she saw the house-sized tank roll out of the flames, edges glowing red-hot but otherwise quite unscathed.

The sound of gun chariots swooshed in overhead, and everypony behind the barricades ducked. Rainbow Dash caught just a glimpse of one as it swerved and flew off to parts unknown. As it passed, the soldiers resumed their work; the Solarium soldiers had taken advantage of the lull in the fire to advance another dozen meters.

They weren’t getting the worst of it though. The fiercest fighting was taking place in buildings and back alleys, where the labyrinthine paths made for no clear battle lines, just a confused brawl. It was sword-work in there, and the Trottingham ponies knew their city far better than any invaders, making for many a nasty ambush. Solarium, however, was less concerned about the collateral damage, and could make their own paths by knocking holes in walls between buildings with towed guns. On top of that, they owned the rooftops as well.

None of this registered with Rainbow Dash, who only knew to take stuff given to her from Point A to Point B. So when a trio of Shock Troopers teleported down from the roof of the building opposite to her, it was as if they had come from nowhere. They blinked into the middle of the barricade-builders and instantly began slaughtering the lot—five ponies were dead before the rest even had time to react.

Not that it mattered much when they did. Swords and spears scratched uselessly against the full-body armor of the Shock Troopers, and even the bullets from the machine guns ricocheted off them. One teleported up to the machine gunners and ran one through with a hoof-blade, then threw him at the other gunner before finishing off the other with a heavy metal kick.

The Trooper down bore down on Rainbow Dash. There was a flash of light, and suddenly he was right in front of her. But Dash’s reflexes were honed by a lifetime of thrill-seeking, and the blade only stabbed the air as she rolled back. She bucked, catching the Trooper in the side, but whereas an unarmored pony would have buckled, the metal knight merely stumbled. The Shock Trooper whipped around and stomped down on Dash, who propelled herself backwards between the Trooper’s legs with a burst from her wings and attempted to slice at the legs. The little claws on her shoes, however, only managed to scratch the paint, and she had to roll again to avoid another downwards stab.

Her roll put her right underneath the Shock Trooper’s face. She punched upwards, trying to aim for the helmet’s optics, but the Shock Trooper caught her hoof. She tried again with the other one, but the metal knight caught that one too.

She grinned. Powerful wing muscles flexed, and her extra two limbs swept out the Shock Trooper’s hind legs from underneath him. Rainbow Dash leapt up and away, but suddenly smacked against the ground as something pulled on her tail. She turned; the rainbow hairs were enshrouded by a green aura, as the Shock Trooper, tired of the nonsense, prepared to finish her off.

Rainbow Dash grinned again, and the Shock Trooper looked up. Maybe, in his last moments, there had been just enough time for his brain to recognize the barrel of the anti-tank gun.

Sound and dust consumed her world. When she could hear again, she first heard a shout, “Fall back! Fall back!” She crawled along the ground, choking on dust and so numb she couldn’t be sure how many of her body parts were still attached. Just when she was about to collapse again a mouth clamped down on her tail and began dragging her along. Darkness took her.

When she woke up, she was lying against a pile of bricks. Everything was a blur; she could barely make out a light blue blob beneath her. She blinked. It was her own body. Somepony had taken off her armor and wrapped a bandage around her chest. Blood had soaked through the gauze and fabric.

Some part of her thought, Awesome! Battle scars! The rest of her thought that part was a moron and started working out how alive she still was. She wiggled her head, arms, and legs experimentally. They seemed to be in working order. But the moment she tried to shift her posture, pain ripped down her chest.

“Don’t try to move too much,” a voice said to her left. Rainbow Dash turned her head, and a light gray stallion swam into view. His helmet had a red cross on it. “I think I removed all the shrapnel, but there might still be some left. You’ll live, though, which makes you luckier than those folks.”

Dash turned her head in the direction he had nodded. There were a dozen other ponies—or in some cases, most of a pony—lying against the same rubble pile.

“Mom, help, it hurts, it hurts, help—”

She turned back. The medic was gone. She listened to the soldier crying for his mother, and decided she wasn’t going to stay here. Her hooves touched the ground gingerly. Breathing was hard, but getting easier. She could stand without too much difficulty.

She looked around. They were in the middle of a wide avenue, probably one of the main roads of the city. Rainbow Dash thought she recognized it from when she had been flying overhead—it cut a winding path through the town that eventually lead to Trottingham Castle. The castle wasn’t there anymore, but the road was still the major artery into the heart of the city, and there was sure to be heavy fighting here. Judging by the smashed barricades, the ruins of armored vehicles, the broken buildings and piles of rubble, there had already been, and the lack of gunfire told her the fighting had lulled.

She wandered around another pile of debris and gazed down the street. The Trottingham defenders had set up defensive positions behind enormous piles of rubble. Several APCs were parked on the sidewalks. Gun barrels stuck out of windows. Most of the soldiers were sitting down, tending their wounds or just resting. There didn’t seem to be much coordination. Certainly there was no spirit. Solarium had taken their morale and ground it into a fine powder beneath their treads. It’s all a mess.

“I thought I told you not to move!” The shout came from the medic, who was hunched a body behind the remains of a barricade with four other ponies. Their grim looks pitied her, and that part of her that had thought about battle scars rebelled against it. Rainbow Dash took a deep breath and marched forward, trying not to let her exhaustion show. “What’s going on?”

One of the soldiers, a dark blue stallion, nodded over the barricade. “We just held off their second assault.” He said the words matter-of-factly, without pride. “They’re bringing up reinforcements.”

Rainbow Dash looked around again at the broken soldiers, the smashed barricades, the damaged guns. “Why not retreat to a better position?”

There were some grins. “There aren’t any.” As if on cue, a deep rumbling echoed out from the far end of the avenue, the heavy, unstable percussion of breaking bricks coupled with the steady clanking of metal treads. “Damned Discord, they’re starting again.”

Like targets at an arcade shooting gallery, heads popped up over all the barricades. Dash’s eyes stared fixedly as something white, something huge rounded the corner. “Oh shi—”

“LEVIATHAN INCOMING!”

A wall of white steel filled the road. Three massive gun barrels emerged from beyond the corner and swiveled on their gigantic turret. A thundergod struck his hammer, and in a cruelly flagrant display of overkill, the avenue exploded.

Rainbow Dash pressed as closely against the barricade as possible as debris rained down everywhere. Two other rubble barricades had detonated, the ponies hiding behind them simply evaporating, while an APC had turned into an expanding cloud of metal shrapnel. Discord’s black bones...

The Leviathan was too wide to fit in the avenue, but that meant little. As it advanced, it tore through the fronts of buildings on either side, ripping apart facades and storefronts like paper mache as it towered above them. The paving stones cracked and popped beneath its treads, which crushed flat the feeble defenses and barricades that foals had thought could hold back the might of Solarium. Its main guns might have been reloading at a glacial pace, but the Leviathan bristled with lesser weapons that filled the space between the buildings with bullets and magic. Accuracy wasn’t even an issue; with so much firepower, simply existing in the space in front of the tank was enough to guarantee a hit.

She peered through a tiny hole just big enough to see through and watched as the wall of steel advanced. Ponies that tried to leave the temporary safety of their barricades or piles of rubble were cut to pieces. Ponies that stayed could only whimper helplessly as the inexorable wall of steel rolled over them.

She pulled away from the hole and looked at the soldiers next to her. One was staring at the ground dejectedly. One had his eyes closed in prayer. None were holding their weapons anymore, none moved to fight. There was nothing left to do.

“It hurts, mom, it hurts so much—”

It didn’t seem real. The sound of the guns, the screams, the implacable, inescapable wall of steel, might have been silent. Even the pain in her chest was numb. She blinked, and it seemed the simple movement of her eyelids took an eternity. She felt her mane flow in the wind, and looked up at the sky. The Leviathan advanced, merciless, and in that moment, with all its guns roaring in every direction, rock and brick and blood mixed in its treads, it seemed like the beast of mythology itself, risen from the darkest depths of the ocean to drown all that stood.

And at last, that part of her, the part that had always been there, the part that had reveled in the glory of destruction up there in the sky, in the adventure killing the enemy, the part that had fumed when she wasn’t allowed to join in the great dogfights of aerial combat, that fought against every precaution, every restraint, forsook her.

She looked down at her hooves as the thought came, unbidden, unwanted, but inescapable. I’m going to die. It filled her mind, her soul. It was not a thought she had ever considered herself capable of having. Death was something that happened to other ponies. Not her. Not Rainbow Dash.

Until now.

“Hey.” The voice was like a mirage in the desert. “Hey.” There was a nudge. Rainbow Dash turned. The mirage crystallized. All five of the other soldiers were staring at her. There seemed to be some sort of agreement. The medic was speaking. “Get out of here. We’ll distract them.”

She just stared, and blinked. “W- what?”

The medic turned to his fellows. “We’re Earth ponies. We don’t have a chance of getting out. But you’re a pegasus... you can fly into one of the side alleys and get out of here.”

“But...” Dash stared into the stallion’s eyes. Were they watering, or was it her own? “You’ll die.”

The ground trembled as the Leviathan tore through another building, causing it to collapse. The obvious did not have to be said. The medic touched her shoulder.

She turned to the others, burning their smiles into her memory.

As one, the six ponies sprang out from behind the barricade. Rainbow Dash pumped her wings. She could hear the shouts behind drown in gunfire. She didn’t look back.

She screamed into an alley, scraping along the wall until landing again. Trembling, she looked down at her body. I’m alive. Her left side was bleeding from scraping the wall and her wing cried out in agony, but she couldn’t have given less of a damn. I’m alive!

Metal hoofsteps thudded behind her, punctuated by the rattling of steel. Alive, but far from safe. She ran as fast as she could down the maze of alleys. It didn’t matter where to—as long as she was running. As long as she was running, she was alive.

Incredibly, she wasn’t the only one. There were still ponies, unarmored, ununiformed ponies, running through these alleys. Civilians or deserters, didn’t matter. She caught no more than glimpses, her interactions with them as fleeting as those of meteors with Equestria’s atmosphere. The hoofsteps were getting louder; Dash dared not look back, but she knew they were gaining on her.

She couldn’t outrun them. She was too tired, too injured. She had to hide. She found the nearest door and tried it. It was locked. No luck on the next one either. The third, however...

The building might have been an apartment. Dash raced down the hall and up to the second floor, not knowing what she was looking for, trying some of the doors along the way. As she ran down the new hall, there was a single open one. She stepped inside.

The place was an absolute mess. It was a tiny room, with a single worn couch and small, scratched table. Food and furniture and clothes were strewn everywhere. The owners had left in a haphazard way, having left even a small pile of money on the table. Probably their entire life savings. It seemed strange to go to the trouble of taking all that out, only to leave it on the table.

Dash walked over to the window and peered out. The building was facing the same avenue she had escaped, and so was temporary shelter at best. The Leviathan was still advancing, and the street didn’t get any wider down here. Its guns had gone quiet, and that could only be because there were no targets left.

Rainbow Dash sighed, and for the first time that day, felt exhausted. She took off her helmet and threw it aside. If she ditched the clawed shoes, the helmet, and the blades on her wings, she could pass for just an ordinary civilian. Maybe that would be enough, or maybe they would just shoot her anyways. Dash just knew that she didn’t want to fight anymore. She could see those five smiles every time she blinked.

Hoofsteps came echoing down the hallway. Dash froze. Somewhere to hide, somewhere to hide... The hoofsteps were almost on her now. There was no time to find a good hiding spot. She had to fight. She leapt over the couch and pressed herself up against the wall next to the doorway. Please don’t look in here, please don’t look in here... But if they did, she had to be ready. I don’t want to die, I’m NOT GOING TO DIE— She stretched her good wing and tensed, prepared to cut down the first thing that walked through that doorway...

The hoofsteps came ever closer, then stopped for a moment. A yellowish-orange body stepped through the doorway. Rainbow Dash pounced, drawing her wing across the pony’s chest and then stabbing its side with her metal claws...

And then she realized her mistake. She stepped back until she hit the table. Horror was inscribed on her face. “I’m sorry!” she said as the civilian collapsed, limbs splaying out across the floor, blood seeping into the carpet. “I’m so sorry!”

The mare paid no attention to her, raising her head back towards the doorway. “Run!” she cried.

Then she died.

Dash poked her head out the doorway and saw the tip of a tiny purple tail disappear down the stairs. She collapsed onto the floor and buried her face in her hooves. “No,” she moaned, “no, I didn’t mean to, this can’t be happening—”

But it did. And the blood on her wing, her hooves, now staining her face as well, proved it.

Slowly, as though in a trance, she threw away her shoes and blades, casting them out as though they carried the plague. A deep rumble shook the apartment, the sound of the building next door collapsing as the Leviathan tore through it. Rainbow Dash made for the door, but heard a small, high-pitched cry from outside the window.

“Help! Somepony help me!”

Taking care to not be seen by the Leviathan, Dash looked out and down. There, trapped in the rubble, was a small orange filly. The color of her tail was unmistakably the same shade of purple as the tip that had disappeared down the stairs.

“Please, somepony help!”

There was no one. The Leviathan continued to advance. It didn’t even know the filly was there, it couldn’t know the filly was there. Not that it mattered; its treads were already smeared with blood...

“Help!”

Guilt pounded at her.

I don’t want to die.

And she saw that part of her that had left. It had been the reckless bravado, the fearless daredevil, the arrogant athlete. It was the part of her that reveled in death and destruction as adventure and glory, but it was also the part of her that stood steadfast in the face of adversity, the part that fought alongside her friends when they needed her most, the part that would never, ever let somepony down. That part of her stared her in the eye.

But can you live like this?

Dash opened the window and dived.

It was a clumsy, inelegant dive—her injured wing didn’t want to extend fully. She hit the ground with a force that shocked her legs and torched the nerves in her chest. She ignored it, and began pushing the rubble off the little filly, grabbing her tail in her mouth and pulling her free...

She felt, rather than saw, the machine guns turn towards her. She swung the filly onto her back and looked up the black barrel.

She waited.

The Leviathan shuddered to a halt. The unstoppable wall of steel stopped.

For a long time, nothing happened.

Rainbow Dash turned, and ran away.

Applejack waited on the worn wooden bench nervously. The rooms of the Manehattan military command center were all rather thinly decorated. The city did not believe in spending extra money on pomposity for its armed force, although it seemed to have no trouble doing so for its government. The walls were lined with white wallpaper and the floor gray tiles, with a rather worn red carpet leading down the center of the hall.

The officer at the desk on the far side of the room was busy sorting through papers. It was a big room, with lots of benches, and Applejack was the only other pony in it, but she was too nervous to be lonely.

Without any cue that she could discern, the officer spoke up. “You can go in now.”

Applejack opened her mouth, but thought better of it. Wordlessly she ambled over to the double doors and cautiously pushed them open.

General Frozen Thought, five-star general of the Manehattan armed forces, was sitting at the distant wall. It was a large desk, but simple, a mere wooden block on four legs, with neatly stacked papers, an inkwell and quill in the corner, and a single closed dossier in the middle. The rest of the room was equally spartan, giving the entire place the air of a hospital, or perhaps an asylum. The utilitarian lights were not fully lit, and the corners of the room were drenched in darkness.

Frozen Thought was small for an unicorn, but his gaze had a focus that belied his thin frame. His large, green eyes seemed to have been watching Applejack even before she had entered the room, focusing on a point about half a meter behind her head. He regarded her as she walked in, and smiled. His voice was thin and sharp, much like his appearance, and his movements were coated with a smooth courtesy that would have been more appropriate on a politician than a general. “Hello, Corporal Applejack.”

“Er, howdy, sir. I uh, thanks for takin’ yer time to meet me...” Applejack had not requested to meet the general, of course. That would be ludicrous for a mere corporal. She had applied to speak to the company commander, but instead had been bumped up to the highest military authority in the land. Why was utterly beyond her.

“To meet a courageous hero such as yourself? I think I always have the time. I was merely looking over the reports from Trottingham.”

He don’t care much for military discipline, does he? Tradition would have dictated that a five-star general be a gruff, tough, no-nonsense sort of pony, who cut past the chatter politics and got things done. You could not have found a less accurate description of Frozen Thought, unless perhaps you added “stupid” to the list. He was better at politics than any politician, which perhaps was precisely why he wasn’t a politician.

“Uh, are they good, sir?”

“No. They are awful.” Frozen Thought’s smile did not change in the slightest.

Applejack squirmed. The way Frozen Thought’s eyes seemed to see through her head was distinctly unnatural. It was as his gaze was breaking her down into components for analysis. In desperation, she glanced around the room. It was then she noticed the window behind Frozen Thought. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. “What’s goin’ on out there?!”

Still smiling, Frozen Thought stood up, turned around and watched Manehattan burn.

Fire was raging through the slums like a wild beast, merrily devouring the makeshift homes. The impoverished sectors, built by refugees and immigrants that had come to the city seeking a better life, were the perfect tinderbox for even the smallest spark.

Applejack stared at the distant reddish-orange blaze, transfixed. “Wh- what’re they doin’ to the bridges...?”

“Ah, yes. I see our richer and worthier citizens are bravely demolishing them.”

“... Why?”

Frozen Thought realized that he would have to tone down the sarcasm for this one. “I imagine they would find it quite problematic if the less worthy were to try and escape into their districts.”

Applejack gaped. “S- shouldn’t we all be... doin’ somethin’?”

“They have already closed the river gates.” And indeed, denied its usual path into the sea, the river was already overflowing its banks, flooding into the streets in great torrents. Soon the land of fire was merely a series of flaming islands, and a great cloud of steam covered the sky.

“They’re floodin’ the whole city to put out the fire?”

“Of course not.” Frozen Thought returned to his seat. “Just the slums. Now, Corporal Applejack, let us turn our attention to you.”

“I, uh.” With great difficulty, Applejack tore her eyes away from the city. The words she had been rehearsing out in the waiting room had fled her mind entirely. “Uh, well, you know sir, I come from a big farmin’ family down in the south, with mah siblings and mah granny—” She swallowed. Why in the world was she talking about this? But Frozen Thought seemed to radiate uncomfortable silence that Applejack felt compelled to fill. With what, it didn’t matter. “And mah parents, and mah pap was in the Civil War, and—”

“Your grandmother is too old to work your farm, while your mother’s injuries sustained in the Manehattan Civil War render her equally helpless,” Frozen Thought said. He had steepled his hooves again, and was resting his chin on top of them. “Therefore, you, your father, and your brother support the family. However, all households subject to Manehattan law are required to have at least one member in the armed forces, in potentia. You argued that you were the youngest and, in terms of farm work, the least valuable. This alone, however, would not be reason for you to preempt the draft card and volunteer. Thus, patriotic duty compels you to ah, ‘do your duty for our nation’, as it were.”

Applejack just stared. If he had asked, “Am I right?”, that would have merely made it irritating. He, though, simply read her head as though her life history were written on it.

The uncomfortable silence returned. “I, uh... yes, sir.” That seemed the only appropriate response.

Frozen Thought put his hooves down on the desk. “Do you want to die for your country?”

“Sir?”

“You showed remarkable courage on the battlefield. Running to deliver a desperate message, capturing a Solarium tank and using it to achieve a breakthrough for a division that was not even yours, operating a gun in a destroyed tank to cover the retreat of an important package that you did not know the nature of. I have received no less than sixteen commendations for you, four of which have been for the Cross of Valor.”

“I just did what anypony else would’ve done, sir.”

This seemed to amuse the general. “Ah. Modesty.” The way he said it suggested he thought of it as a trait best reserved for insects. “So then, Applejack. Do you want to die for your country?”

Applejack worked her jaw. Sweat dripped down the side of her head. This meeting was not going the way she had imagined.

“No, sir.”

Frozen Thought smiled. “Good. I have no use for ponies that want to die for their country.”

“Sir.” It was a half-statement, half-question that didn’t really have any purpose except to fill the void. Applejack had given up trying to grasp the conversation.

“My purposes are better served if such ponies are on the other side.”

“Sir.”

“And what of your purposes, Applejack?”

“Sir.”

Frozen Thought looked. He opened his mouth again, speaking slowly. “What do you want, Applejack?”

Applejack blinked. “Um, sir...”

“Everyone that enters this office wants something, Applejack, even if it is only to leave it.”

There was a slight pause. “I’d like to be transferred to the army, sir.”

Frozen Thought leaned back in his seat. “Is that all?”

Weeks of being yelled at by a drill sergeant were barely able to keep Applejack from staring at the ground. “Yes, sir. Uh, the navy’s nice ‘n all, but it was really mah second choice, cause the army wasn’t recruitin’ Earth ponies then...”

Frozen Thought rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Corporal Applejack, there are entire rooms of ponies in this building that want to see me, and all of them are either very wealthy and powerful, or think they are, and not a single one of them would dare to trouble me with anything unless they had absolutely nowhere else to turn. And yet I have inserted you into my busy schedule after the Director of Science and Technology and before the CEO of FlimFlam Industries, on the basis that such an unusually-phrased request to meet higher authority by such a remarkable young mare ought to be important indeed. Now, are you going to tell me that you will make no use of this opportunity to make any other requests of me?”

Applejack’s legs suddenly felt like they were made of warm ice: brittle, heavy, and melting rapidly. “... Sir.”

“Very well. I will have you transferred to the Armor Division Zero.”

A jolt ran through her body. Everypony knew that Division Zero got the best training, the best equipment, the best—

The incongruity of the situation hit her, and suddenly she wasn’t sure if what had just happened was good or not. Frozen Thought was smiling though, and so she tried to smile back. “Thank you, sir.”

“Excellent. Now I am sure you have many promotions to receive, medals to enjoy, training to endure. We will probably not see each other again.”

“Yes sir.” Applejack turned and left the room. As the doors closed behind her, she shuddered.

The lieutenant at the desk glanced at her and smiled. “Yeah, he does that.”

Frozen Thought watched the orange pony leave. So that was the fabled Earth pony that had ensured the successful retrieval of the Element against heavy odds. Interesting.

His eyes returned to the dossier on his desk that he had been looking at before she had walked in. He magically opened the file and looked over the pictures of a beautiful white unicorn with a floridly curled purple mane, showing off her fashions. He did not profess to understand this alternate universe business, but he was a fast learner.

There was much to learn. Oh yes, there was much to learn. The nature of the game had changed, this much he knew. His hoof swirled in the air, tracing out mental arrows on an imaginary map of Equestria. Leaving war to your generals now, are you? he mused about the Solarium Supreme Commander. A chessboard with a thousand pawns, and suddenly the Supreme Commander was no longer interested, all because of the appearance of a single queen. Ah, but there were five other queens concealed on this board, colored neither black nor white. History finds a way, does it?

Still, events were already in motion that could not be stopped. The Third Rune War would be fought to its bitter end. But Frozen Thought had always considered it more useful to direct a runaway train to hit an irritating building. Two birds with one stone, as it were.

They would come for the Element, soon. That much was obvious. The Supreme Commander would let them.

He smiled.

A tiny perturbation in his command, the confusion, then clarity of a single pony down there on the battlefield, alerted Oversight to the message. “General,” he reported, “they are offering to surrender.”

“Ah, jolly good,” Greenblade said, imitating the famous Trottingham accent. “Unconditionally, I presume?”

Oversight furrowed his brows. “I... can’t tell. The sense is too indistinct...”

Greenblade nodded. “Very well, have our forces stand down then. We can await their pegasus in the meantime.”

Oversight nodded, and pushed his mind out onto the landscape, giving the little psychic nudges that told the ponies to cease the attack.

“Let’s assemble down by the staging area. Have the Rapid Assembly Vehicles begin preparing a track to the Valley of Death in the meantime.”

This last bit was not directed to Oversight. He sighed and finally relaxed. The battle was over. Cheers and congratulations erupted all over the bridge. He stepped out of the cage of the dominator engine and walked over to the window. The muddy trails the Solarium armored divisions had ploughed, the smoke rising from the ruins of Trottingham, it all seemed so distant, so controllable from up here. The offensive had been a complete success. The casualty counts would take some time to assemble, but Oversight could give a good guess based purely on his mental maps. There wouldn’t be that many on the Solarium side, he was sure.

Textbook.

Rainbow Dash climbed to the top of the hill and turned around. The Solarium forces were withdrawing, their giant airships turning around in the sky. As much as she would have liked to imagine it was because they were beaten, even she wasn’t that stupid.

Stupid. That word really summed her up, didn’t it? Just a few hours ago—it seemed like a lifetime!—she had been thirsting for battle, been so disappointed that she couldn’t be in the first wave, couldn’t slice and slash at other ponies in the air and instead just blew up airships with Sonic rainbooms. That Rainbow Dash seemed like an entirely different pony now. Flaming cola rain, she had been such a foal.

The little pegasus filly on her back hadn’t said a word. Dash figured now was as good a time as any. “Hey,” she said, turning her head to look at her with one eye. The filly was staring at the grass. “What’s your name?”

“S’.” The voice was so quiet that the only way Dash knew for sure she had said anything at all was the movement of her mouth.

“Hey, speak up, kid.”

The filly looked up at her. “Scootaloo.”

Dash nodded. “I’m Rainbow Dash.” The words came out of her flatly, and sounded almost completely different, as though they belonged to somepony else. She had always worn her name as though it were a badge of honor.

“Thanks for saving me.”

Dash’s insides twisted. She doesn’t know, she thought. The filly hadn’t seen her when she... she killed that mare. She tried to hide it, tried to smile. “Where’s your dad?”

“Don’t have one.”

She frowned. “Everypony has a dad.”

Scootaloo shrugged. “Mom never talked about him.” Suddenly, as if the words were a magic spell, she broke down in tears. “Mommy! She- she had- l left the—”

“There, there,” Rainbow Dash said in a tone that she thought was soothing, though in truth she had less experience being soothing than a turtle did flying. She lifted up her good wing and stroke the filly’s back. “I’m... I’m...” She gulped. What was she?

A murderer.

No! It had been an accident. She hadn’t meant to. It wasn’t supposed to have happened. None of this was.

The crying subsided, reduced to mere sniffles. Scootaloo rubbed her nose. “Sorry.”

“D- don’t apologize.” Dash couldn’t bear to look at the filly any longer. She turned and gazed at the plain. Thousands, no, tens of thousands of multicolored dots were streaming across the hills out of Trottingham. It seemed as though the entire city had left, but of course that couldn’t be true. They must have been making for the Spiral Pass that would take them across the Chaos Mountains to Manehattan. Where else could they go?

For that matter, where could she go? A life of patriotism told Rainbow Dash that she should return to Cloudsdale, but she wasn’t sure if she could make it through the hurricane with an injured wing. And besides, she couldn’t just leave the filly here. Not when she had... she had... done what she did.

“Ever been to Manehattan?”

She felt Scootaloo shook her head. “No.”

“Wanna go now?”

There was a pause. “Ok.”

Well, it was decided. To the greatest city in the world they would go.

Manehattan Central Intelligence Services Archives - Classified: Eyes Only - CIS Intelligence Report: Dominator Engine - Abstract

Of Solarium’s multitude of secretive rune engine variants, the dominator engine is perhaps the most insidious. Despite multiple attempts at obtaining a model or blueprint of this device, the workings of the dominator engine remain completely incomprehensible to us. Even more worrying, the Ministry of Science and Technology has remained unable to even suggest a viable magical theory to explain the capabilities of the engine. As of the time of this writing, CIS believes the dominator engine is derived from remnants of magic from the pre-Discord era being held at Area 06 [See CIS Intelligence Report: Changeling Queen Chrysalis].

Whatever its source, the nature of the dominator engine is well-established. In its most common form, it is a mind-control device. CIS first discerned the existence of the engine after multiple operatives were captured and later seen collaborating with known Solarium operatives. Through a process referred to as “rehabilitation”, the dominator engine is capable of entirely reprogramming a pony’s mind and memories down to the unconscious level. As of the time of this writing, no method of countering the effects is known. Solarium frequently uses the engine in counterespionage to great effect, as well as pacifying dissidents within its own population.

The second form of the dominator engine is as a long-range communication device. Through unicorns known as “Battle Commanders”, Solarium is able to assert instantaneous communications over a vast battlefield. Specially-trained officers on the ground called “seers” relay thoughts to the Battle Commander via the dominator engine, who then can form a picture of the battlefield based on real-time information.

The existence of the dominator engine’s third form is inferred from third-party reports from the Battle of Los Pegasus. Due to the insanity of surviving witnesses, few details are confirmed, but it is hypothesized that Solarium deployed an experimental version against the griffon army that resulted in massive collateral damage to its own forces and the citizens of the city. Little else is known of the event except that the disturbance was psychic in nature, and gathering coherent information from the survivors has been notoriously difficult. What happened to the weapon afterwards, if it existed at all, is the subject of speculation.

Author's Note

And that's the last of RD we'll see for a while. Next up, Twilight and Twilight embrace the darkness that is Tartarus...

Chapter 12: Abyss

Chapter 12
Abyss

Through here thee passes into the city of woe.
Through here thee passes into eternal pain.
Through here thee passes into everlasting sorrow.
Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.
- Inscription on the Gates of Tartarus

Twilight Sparkle leaned back into the armchair and momentarily panicked as she sank so far into the cushions she thought she would be swallowed by it. Such luxury was unknown to a pony that spent half her nights curled up on a desk in the laboratory. The airship was huge, lavishly decorated with royal purple and golden spirals meant to be reminiscent of pre-Discord Canterlot. Twilight had wasted a good hour just exploring. Blacknote evidently wanted to spare no expense in impressing the Tartarian ambassador. A hall fit for a Princess, Twilight thought, glancing uncomfortably at Starswirl, who was seated next to her. The other unicorn seemed at home, humming to herself happily as she flipped through the newspaper.

The Tartarians were on the other side of the extravagant dining room. The ambassador herself had retired to one of the private bedrooms—Twilight wondered what kind of sleep cycle Tartarians had, if any. The two pegasi, who Twilight assumed were bodyguards, were seated by the window, eyes glued to the glass. One was reclining on a couch, while the other with the bell around his neck seemed to consider comfort radioactive, and was sitting on the least soft bit of carpet he could find.

Starswirl put down the newspaper and leaned over secretly. “Hey,” she whispered, “do you know anything about Tartarus?”

“Other than that it’s full of evil monsters?” Twilight shook her head. “Do you?”

Starswirl’s gaze grew distant. “Well, I know it has a gate guarded by the giant three-headed dog Cerberus. And that it’s old. Very old. It was already old when ponies first came to Equestria. Princess Celestia said even she knew only myths about the place...”

That name again. The way it found purchase on Starswirl’s lips, it might have been holy. Every time she spoke about that pony, it was with such loving adoration, and it made Twilight feel...

She didn’t know how it made her feel. It certainly stirred something in her, but she didn’t know how to describe it. A kind of wistful longing, perhaps, to meet the mare her twin seemed to regard as an adoptive mother, but there was something else to the feeling, something darker, visceral. She didn’t understand it, and it frightened her.

“Really? A dog with three heads?”

Starswirl grinned embarrassedly. “It sounds silly when you put it that way, I suppose...” She told her about a time when Cerberus left Tartarus and came to Ponyville, only to be lured back by with a ball.

“You’re making that up,” Twilight accused.

“No, really! It happened!”

Twilight looked at her queerly. It was too crazy to be true. Epic, yet harmless adventures of that sort just didn’t happen. The kind of world where you could tame an ancient monster older than Equestria, run all the way to Tartarus and be back to the next day... that was the stuff of dreams, not reality.

Yet she knew that Twilight Sparkle would never make up stories like that.

And so deep down in some subconscious crevice of her mind, a childish part of her, like a foal that had yet to learn to recognize the pony in the mirror as something other than a new playmate, thought, She can’t be Twilight Sparkle. After all, I’m Twilight Sparkle.

But even that childish part of her was defensive, as all liars are when reality hangs over their heads by a thread, threatening at any point to strike down the flimsy foundations of their false reality...

That feeling again.

There was a chortle from the far side of the room. Starswirl glanced over, then leaned back in. “That pony with the bell keeps looking at you.”

Twilight turned her head. The black pegasus quickly snapped back to looking out the window. She looked back at Starswirl, but saw out of the corner of the eye that the pegasus was looking at her again. She tried to sink further down into the chair. When she looked again, the stallion again quickly turned his head. Then the other pegasus poked his head from around the couch, grinning, and called out, “He is fond your color.”

… What.

“It is most vivid.”

… What.

“Silence, brother! You know not of which you speak!”

… What.

Starswirl leaned in. “I think he has a crush on you.”

… What.

Twilight prayed desperately for the chair to swallow her. Starswirl giggled, and a moment of infantile how dare you! twinged through her.

The bell-less pegasus walked over. “I am Void. That is my brother, Null.”

Starswirl blinked. “So together you’re... Null and Void?”

So apparently Tartarians had a sense of humor. Twilight filed this away for future reference. She got up out of the chair and locked eyes with Void, who was just slightly taller. “I’m Twilight Sparkle, and this is my... sister, Starswirl.” ‘Starswirl’ waved. The other black pegasus approached at a distance, as though he had only come to watch Void.

“It is our pleasure to meet you,” Void said, bowing. Twilight noted the usage of the word our. “We are most grateful for your aid. It shames us to impose upon you. You must understand, our desperation is great, to look to the outside world for help...”

Twilight glanced at Starswirl for a moment. “What, uh, exactly do you need help with?”

Void’s eyes flickered in introspection. “Perhaps it would be best to explain once you have seen it for yourself.”

Twilight coughed. “Well, you know, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be of any help. I’ll try, of course,” she added hastily, “but if I can’t make any promises without knowing what I’m supposed to be doing.” Try as she might, her eyes could just not avoid glancing back at her “sister”.

Void nodded. “That is, of course, entirely within our expectation.” There was a long, awkward pause.

“So,” Starswirl said, “what is it that the two of you do?”

Void glanced at Null, who was looking down at the ground. “We are the Shadow Guard, sworn to protect our tribe against all foes at the cost of our lives.”

“Ah.” It was the kind of “ah” a pony used when they didn’t know what else to say, Twilight noted with some tiny degree of pleasure. “Umm, so you said you were brothers?”

“Yes. Twins, though I am the elder.”

Starswirl and Twilight nodded at the same time. So it wasn’t just some kind of appearance spell that rendered the two pegasi identical in appearance. With their cutie marks obscured by their indistinguishable gray armor, the only way to tell the difference between the two was the bell Null wore. “So, is that why you wear the bell? So that we can tell you two apart?” Twilight asked.

The two ponies seemed to shrink back. “It is... not a thing he speaks of with strangers,” Void finally said, looking at his brother.

“He doesn’t seem to speak much at all,” Twilight noted. Starswirl glanced at her as though she had said something rude. Twilight happily ignored her.

“Yes...” Void said uncertainly. “Please forgive him. He has given more than his share in the duty of the Shadow Guard.”

More than his life? Twilight opened her mouth to ask, but Starswirl elbowed her in the side. She glared at her, but was fortunately spared the effort of making a response by the intercom.

“Please prepare for turbulence. We are descending into a chaos storm.”

Twilight noted the roiling crimson clouds outside. Odd, chaos zones hadn’t really worked their way into this part of Equestria. A map would have shown the corrupted landscape radiating out from Ground Zero, yet inexplicably parting around this area, leaving it a pristine green zone.

A thought occurred to her, and her eyebrows drew together. Perhaps it was Tartarus itself that had kept the chaos magic at bay? If that was so, then the sudden presence of chaos storms would mean...

Suddenly her stomach felt queasy, and it wasn’t because of the shaking.

Shining Armor finished rolling around in the dirt and stood before Crystalline. “Well, how do I look?”

Crystalline inspected the unicorn. He was entirely filthy, the normal white sheen of his coat now rather yellowish-brown, like old paper. His mane was ragged and unkempt, looking as though it had been cut by a small foal armed with safety scissors. But his teeth...

“Open your mouth,” Crystalline ordered. Shining Armor raised an eyebrow but obliged, then swiftly dodged the incoming hoof-ful of dirt.

“Hey!”

Crystalline sighed. “Your teeth are too clean.” She tried unsuccessfully to shove the dirt into the stallion’s mouth some more. “Hold still!”

“I can do it myself, thank you very much.” Good grief, we haven’t even gotten into the prison and I already want to punch her in the throat. He gently scooped up some dirt, put it in his mouth, and chewed.

“Good, now show me those pearly whites.” Shining Armor smiled, and Crystalline made a suitably disgusted expression.

“And what about you?” he asked.

Crystalline turned, looking at him with one eye. “What about me?”

Shining Armor scanned the mare. Her coat was unkempt, ragged, and filthy, her mane was frazzled with stray hairs everywhere, and the curls at the bottom now were more akin to hairballs than the swirled candy they once resembled. Yet she retained some essential elegance, something fundamentally Crystalline about her that made her still look pretty, and that annoyed him to no end.

“Never mind.” If he could just get through this one mission without strangling her, then he’d never have to see her face ever again. Shining Armor turned, but Crystalline stepped back in front of him.

“No, seriously, what about me?”

His eyebrows furrowed. He looked closely at the mare’s face. Her expression was nothing but genuine, as if she honestly cared about his opinion. But like hell he would admit that she was still attractive even when looking like she had spent a week living in a cave.

“Nothing. Why do you care anyways?” He stomped off.

“Because being pretty in prison is about the worst thing a mare can wish for,” she muttered at his retreating back.

Shining Armor climbed to the top of the boulder and gazed out over the windswept badlands. A single dirt road wound its way across the landscape, the lonely route used by Manehattan to maintain their underground prison of Pitchblende.The reddish-brown dust did not extend very far—in one direction he could see verdant green fields, in another the dark, tortured landscape of a red zone. Behind him stood the foreboding black cliffs of the Chaos Mountains, and hidden beyond them, the Palatium fields and the ruins of the Chaos Capital.

He found Captain Thunderstone not too far from his position. Thunderstone, a large, burly Earth pony, was the head of an special operations group of about a dozen ponies that had been roaming the area near the Manehattan side of the Chaos Mountains for some time now, keeping an eye on troop movements. Pitchblende was not a particularly secret facility. It was inescapable enough already.

“Any sign, Captain?” Shining Armor asked.

Thunderstone, who had been scanning the horizon with his binoculars, shook his head.

Shining Armor glanced over to the rest of the soldiers, who were occupying themselves by gambling. It was a common pastime in yellow zones: flipping a coin and betting whether it’d come down or not. So far, the results had been tails, edge, heads, butterfly, edge, six minutes, last Tuesday, and a research paper titled Prospects for Making a Bose-Einstein-Condensed Positronium Annihilation Gamma Ray Laser. Then a coin zoomed off into the upper atmosphere, leaving a small sonic boom echoing across the badlands.

They decided it was probably a good idea to stop playing after that.

Three long hours later, a moving cloud of dust appeared on the horizon. “Get up, you maggots!” Thunderstone shouted.

They took up ambush positions. Shining Armor handed Crystalline a golden cylinder with a hole and straps. She eyed the device warily. “Magic sink?”

“It’s a fake one,” Shining Armor said, affixing an identical device to his horn. “Only the outer layer is made of lightstone, you can overload it easily.”

Crystalline didn’t seem satisfied, but she took the magic sink anyways. They were a mandatory feature wherever unicorns were imprisoned—the lightstone cylinder would absorb any magic that tried to leave the horn, and release it as harmless light.

The convoy, consisting of three trucks and and two IFVs, approached. The ambush began when a column of green flames erupted from underneath the first IFV, lifting it bodily into the air and flipping it upside down as a heap of twisted steel. Then a wall of pure force hit the first truck as six unicorns working in concert sent the vehicle tumbling off the road and landing on its side. As though emerging from the land itself, a small army rose from the rocks and bushes and swarmed the convoy.

The response was immediate. Flares leaped into the air from the remaining trucks and exploded in brilliant scarlet displays. Guards leaped from the trucks hefting heavy spears as cyan beams lanced out from the guns of the IFV. These weren’t run-of-the-mill grunts—their speed and ferocity belied combat experience. But even they had their hooves full, for the prisoners were taking every advantage of the confusion to make their escape. Chains suddenly found use as weapons, striking like heavy whips while legs linked by heavy hoof-cuffs were effective hammers, bashing heads and breaking limbs. Overwhelmed, the guards soon found themselves prisoners, and like dust the ponies dispersed into the wild.

But the badlands were vast and empty. Mere minutes after the battle, chariots from Pitchblende took to the sky. Some went to help the remains of the prisoner convoy, while others hunted down the escapees. Only about half would evade the shadows of soaring wings and piercing light of stun bolts.

In all the confusion, not a single guard noticed that two of the prisoners hadn’t been there before.

Twilight descended the boarding ramp onto the stony plateau and shivered.

It might have merely been the cold, for they were close to the top of the colossal mountain. The ground was unnaturally smooth, a sign that the plateau had not been hewn from the stone by nature, and indeed a long, crawling staircase descended the entire length of the cliff, carved roughly from the rock itself and then rounded by weather. The air was eerily still, and so clear one could have seen the horizon in perfect clarity were it not for the massive crimson storm clouds that broiled in every direction like the wall of some great thunder giant. Surely there was magic at work here, keeping the chaos storms at bay.

Before her rose Avernus, the Outer Hall. Built like a rectangular temple that extended deep into the core of the mountain, massive columns of gray marble, large enough to have been considered towers in their own right, soared to support the entablature, on which rested a triangular pediment so high above her head she could scarcely see the roof. The architecture was reminiscent of old Cloudsdale—or rather, old Cloudsdale was reminiscent of this architecture, for there was no question which of the two were older.

“I’ve only ever gotten as far as the base of the mountain,” Starswirl whispered. “It’s... a lot bigger close up.”

“This way, please.” Light Unseen lead the way down the center of the hall, Twilight and Starswirl trailing close after, while Null and Void hung back, pulling carts of various instruments and mechanisms Twilight had brought along just in case. Darkness descended swiftly as they left the sun outside, and Twilight quickly became unable to tell whether her eyes were open or closed. A single hoofstep could echo a dozen times in the silence.

“Can’t... can’t tell if you’re still there,” she called into the dark.

A hoof brushed against her side. “Hold on to me,” Null said, or was it Void? Twilight reached out and touched what felt like his mane.

Soon they had passed through Avernus and were standing on the rocky shore of a river. By now her eyes had adjusted, and she could make out the black water gushing from rocks on their left high above, sliding down a waterfall and then smoothly gliding out in flat planes across the width of the cavern.

“The River Styx,” Starswirl murmured, and Twilight nodded wordlessly.

On the river’s other shore there was an immense rectangular aperture in the cave wall, closed off by the largest door Twilight had ever seen, a titanic wall of black steel and gray stone, studded with spires and spikes. The Gates of Tartarus may not have been built by evil, but they certainly looked the part.

“Come,” Light Unseen said, motioning to a small boat tied to a rock. Twilight didn’t think they would all fit, but surprisingly there was room to spare. She brushed a hoof over the wood, feeling the centuries ingrained deep within the timber, and stared at her reflection in the water. The river was supernaturally smooth—water was not supposed to flow this way. For that matter, where was the water coming from? There was no way snowmelt could produce this much.

As they neared the other shore, her ears picked up a deep rumbling noise. She stared at the gate. It took a while, but eventually her eyes were able to pick out a great black shape in front of it, rising and falling in sync with the rumbling.

“He’s asleep,” Starswirl murmured as they disembarked.

They passed by Cerberus without trouble. “Not very good, for a guard dog,” Twilight muttered.

“They’ve got a magical lyre,” Starswirl pointed out. Twilight squinted—indeed, there was a small golden frame right in front of one of the beast’s three heads, its strings plucking away. Twilight hadn’t heard the sound over the snoring, but now that she was listening for it she could just make out the lullaby.

The Gate was ever so slightly open, one of the great doors just barely ajar. White light streamed through the crack, just barely wide enough for a pony. Light Unseen disappeared through the crack, followed by Void. With Null nudging them onwards, Twilight swallowed, and stepped through.

All words left her.

Surely... surely a cavern this large could not possibly fit within the mountain. The walls seemed to stretch out forever such that they gave a much better idea of infinity than infinity did, darkness dancing within the recesses like a living thing, streaming from pool to pool with such fluidity that the waters of the River Styx seemed like mud by comparison. Stalagmites like mountains stretched from the floor, while equally colossal stalactites stretched down towards them.

But whereas the floor and ceiling might have been merely the stuff of nature magnified beyond imagination, the walls were clearly artificial. Erebus, City of Darkness, covered the walls with its architecture in the form of great massive slabs that jutted from the walls, huge towers that reached that rivaled anything in the greatest cities of Equestria, structures of hexagons suspended from gigantic chains fit to imprison a giant. It was like a reverse Canterlot, for where Canterlot was a city built onto the side of a mountain, Erebus was a city built onto the inside of a mountain. The comparison even extended into the design, for while Canterlot was a vivid city of golden spirals and white circles and purple swirls, Erebus was all jagged lines and harsh angles, and so colorless as to be indistinguishable from a monochrome image.

Yet all of this paled in comparison to what stood at the center of the cavern. A tree of white crystal or perhaps frozen lightning dominated, larger than worlds, its branches seemingly extended both outwards and inwards into an infinity of impossible geometries. It was the source of the brilliant white light, a pillar of awesome radiance that pushed back the dark, sending it fleeing into its manifold coves. It gushed magic, a reservoir as limitless and ancient as the sea.

Finally, irresistibly, her eyes were drawn along the length of its trunk, down, down into its roots, embedded in the sides of an immense pit, the Pit, whose darkness made all else seem bright by comparison, a yawning aperture into the void on the far shores of reality.

Starswirl was the first to speak.

“Something’s wrong with the tree.”

Twilight looked. Yes, now that she mentioned it, there was something wrong. The entire thing should have been pure white, incorruptible in its majesty. And yet there were regions of... of darkness, a yellowish taint upon some edges, as though the tree were diseased.

Light Unseen turned towards them. “You see now, why we asked for your help.”

Twilight shook her head wordlessly. I don’t even know where to begin.

Starswirl, having more familiarity with saving the world, stepped up the challenge. “We’ll get started as soon as possible. If you can show us to a place to set up, we can begin taking measurements immediately.”

The heck with that, Twilight thought bitterly. Not about getting started as soon as possible—she had no trouble with that idea—but with the idea of letting Starswirl take the lead. “Somewhere with a good line of sight would be ideal,” she said commandingly, “like a tall tower without much in the way. Normally, the closer we could get the better, but that tree is so magical I think my instruments will be overwhelmed if we’re too close, so something further away would be perfect.”

Light Unseen nodded. “I believe we can oblige. But, as your kind says, first things first, yes? You must proceed to our village; it is not safe here. To my great sorrow, it is here we must part ways.” She bowed deeply. “Fear not, for I assure you that Null and Void shall protect and guide. I must go.”

“Uh, bye?” Twilight watched the ambassador descend a thin staircase into Erebus. She glanced nervously at the Shadow Guards. “What now?”

“The wait shall not be lengthy,” Void said. “Look, Butter Pie approaches.”

Butter Pie? Twilight mouthed the words, trying it as one would try an unfamiliar dish.

A tiny splotch of darkness seemed to detach itself from Erebus and grow. Soon Twilight could make out the silhouette of a pony pulling a chariot. As it approached, spikes and spirals of dark steel and a pair of huge bat wings distinguished themselves. Then when it landed, her mouth dropped.

It wasn’t a pony pulling a chariot. It was half a pony pulling a chariot. Where the rear half of Butter Pie’s body should have been there was a cradle of black metal, not merely affixed to the scarred stump but conjoined with the flesh. And the enormous bat wings didn’t belong to Butter Pie, who was an Earth pony, but rather the chariot itself, flapping like some living thing.

Staring is rude, Twilight, her mother said in her head. She tried to smile. “Hello...”

Butter Pie nodded. Her coat was caramel, but only just, as though someone had sucked all the color out of it and just left a tint behind. “Greetings to you, outsiders. And to you as well, Null, Void.”

The two unicorns piled into the chariot with their luggage. Butter Pie’s wings unfurled, and with a single flap they soared out over the edge into Tartarus.

The Tartarian ponies had made their home on a series of large hexagonal platforms, each big enough to fit several city blocks. Gray bridges of stone and iron linked the platforms to each other and to the rest of Erebus. The buildings themselves were crude things of stone, and judging by the lack of spikes, had not been part of the original construction.

They called it a village, but it was easily big enough to qualify as a large town. Butter Pie touched down before a foreboding iron gate, manned by two dozen guards that looked at the new arrivals with guarded curiosity. “Welcome, to Elysium,” she said, as the unicorns left her... back. The stone felt like ice beneath Twilight’s hooves.

The gate creaked open. Twilight was vaguely familiar with the myth of Elysium, a paradise-like part of the afterlife for heroes favored by the gods. Paradise this was place was not. Everything here was shades of ashen gray. The ponies, when they had any color at all, were like Butter Pie, possessing just a bare tint. Twilight and Starswirl couldn’t have stood out more if they glowed.

A gray Earth pony ran down from the gate. “Void!”

“What be the matter, Bauxite?”

Bauxite glanced at the two outsiders warily, but when he turned to Void his face was grim. “Your wife, she gave birth not six hours ago.”

Happiness seemed to struggle with Void’s features briefly, but then Bauxite’s grim tone set in. When he spoke, his voice was controlled, prepared for bad news. “What happened?”

Bauxite winced. “The child... was stillborn.”

A long breath left Void’s chest. He turned to Twilight and Starswirl. “My deepest apologies, but I must go.” He paused. “My brother shall be your guide. Trust in him; he shall not lead you astray.”

He flew off. Bauxite gave the outsiders one more glance and returned to the gate. Twilight and Starswirl exchanged glances while Null took the lead. “Come.”

“What was that about?” Starswirl asked.

“Void’s wife has been pregnant for some time now,” Null explained. “She must have given birth whilst we were Outside.”

“And the baby...?”

“Dead, it would appear.”

“... I’m so sorry.”

Null shrugged, not even bothering to face her. “Death is a fact of life. You will scarcely find a pony here who has not lost friend or family. If we stopped to mourn everypony, then we would never have a chance to live.”

Twilight stared down at the cobbles. Starswirl looked at her disappointedly.

Ponies were streaming into the streets now to watch them, but despite the multitude the air remained eerily quiet. They must all walk like cats, Twilight thought, meeting their gazes. There were myriad emotions in the crowd: fascination, fear, joy, caution. We’re the monsters here.

Null lead them to an impressively large home with a tall tower, built on top of what might have been an artificial escarpment on the highest platform. The house was made of plain gray stone like the others, but unlike most of the houses here, this one looked as though the residents had attempted to decorate it, though they had been none too skilled in architectural design.

“Welcome to my home,” Null said, shoving the metal door aside.

“Great view,” Twilight said, looking out over the cliff. The platforms of Elysium stretched out below, and beyond, the rest of Tartarus.

“It’s a big place. You live here alone?” Starswirl asked.

“Yes. It belonged to my family, once, but after Void married, I am all that remains.”

“I guess your parents…?” Twilight let her voice trail off.

Null nodded. You will scarcely find a pony here who has not lost friend or family.

The inside of the house, though spacious, felt little more homey than the outside. The few doors were made of metal and most of the furniture was made of stone, with the occasional cushion. Twilight and Starswirl each got their own bedroom. The beds were plush, at least, the blankets made of some unidentifiable cloth and the bed filled with mysterious stuffing.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Twilight asked.

Null motioned to a chamber pot.

Right… no plumbing. “Uh, what do we do for baths?”

“There is a bathhouse three blocks Clockwise and one block Treewards.”

Twilight and Starswirl blinked and exchanged glances.

“Clockwise around the edge of the Cavern and towards the white Tree.”

“Ah,” the two unicorns said simultaneously.

“You may find the stairs to the tower at the end of the hallway to your left. I hope it is suitable for your tests. Do you require sustenance?’

Twilight wondered what exactly Tartarians ate. She couldn’t imagine it being tasty. Or healthy. “Um, not hungry.”

“Neither am I.”

“Very well. There is to be a great festival later, as the bell strikes six after the Second Tremor. You shall be as guests of honor.”

“A festival? Why?” Twilight asked.

“To celebrate your arrival. You are the first ponies from Outside since our ancestors first came here. If there is anything you require, ask it of me and if it is possible, I shall ensure that you receive it. I shall be downstairs. The Guarding Dark protect thee.”

Twilight shook her head as Null’s hoofsteps faded away. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how desperate those ponies centuries ago must have been, to have thought settling here was better than whatever fate befell them in the outside world. She grit her teeth. Discord, you corrupt, evil bastard, may you rot forever in Ground Zero.

“Guess we better unpack,” Starswirl said.

“Mmhmm.” Twilight levitated her luggage into her room. Most of it was magical instrumentation; what few personal effects she had was in the dainty little flower-print chest on rollers that had been given to her by her mother. That took little time to unpack, but she wasn’t even close to being done with the equipment when Starswirl walked in.

“Need any help?”

“I’m fine,” Twilight said, having some difficulty trying to snap the lightstone capacitor into a heavy-grade thaumometer. “C’mon you little…”

Starswirl looked concerned. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah I’m—” The capacitor slipped off a spring, launching itself across the room before being caught by Starswirl.

“Yeah, sure.”

Twilight glared. “I don’t need your help. You don’t even know what any of this stuff is, anyways.”

Starswirl sighed, her ears flopping downwards. “Why won’t you just let me help you?”

“Alright, go assemble the sixteen gauge diametric optical hexmeter, connect it to the thaum ray tube oscilloscope and set it to an amplitude of two megaprimes.”

Starswirl blinked and looked around helplessly. Twilight smiled in self-satisfaction. “Right, well, if you can’t do that then leave me be.”

The other unicorn sighed and slinked away. Twilight felt a twinge of guilt. Why had she just done that? Starswirl had only been trying to help. She stared at her hooves. Why was she so afraid of letting her help? What was this twisting feeling deep in her heart?

Thump, thump, thump.

Null stood on his hind legs, striking the stone slab repeatedly with his front two. Thump, thump, thump.

His hooves chipped at the gray stone, causing it to buckle and crack beneath his strikes. Thump, thump, thump. Nothing more than punches strong enough to break rocks. No skill, no finesse.

“You’re really strong,” a voice said from behind him. “Are all Tartarians that strong?”

Null pulled away from his training to look at the blue unicorn standing in the doorway. Starswirl, he thought her name was. “No. Most ponies would only hurt their hooves.”

“That sounds pretty normal.”

“I wouldn’t know. There are those far stronger than me, however.”

Starswirl tilted her head. “Really? How strong?”

Null paused. “A friend of mine, named Tear, could lift a house off its foundations and throw it.”

Starswirl narrowed her eyes. “That… doesn’t sound possible.”

“It is said her veins run with the ancestry of stone giants.”

Starswirl walked in. “How would a stone giant have a child with a pony?”

“The spirit of a stone giant possessed one of her ancestors.”

“Oh.” Starswirl paused and looked at him. “Is… that a thing that can happen?”

“I have seen stranger.” Null resumed hitting the slab. Thump, thump, thump.

“Your bell doesn’t seem to ring,” Starswirl said, looking at the ornate red and gray metal instrument around his neck. “Is it broken?”

Null stopped midway through his swing. “No.”

“That’s an unusual stance. Most ponies would kick with their front legs. You punch, like a… a creature that stands on two legs.”

Null returned to standing on fours. He turned to look at Starswirl. Her eyes were wide, inquisitive. He didn’t detect any fear or malice in them.

“Is there something you desire?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Starswirl said, shaking her head. “I just wanted to learn more about you.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “Do you like, um, Twilight?”

Null looked away. “She is… beautiful. Both of you are. Your color…” He looked back at her. “You have probably noticed that few of us have much color. It is a most valued trait here. It is said that a pony with color still has life and hope in her, and that that joy will carry down her line. Color is life. Color is beauty.”

“Does that mean you’re… hopeless?”

He looked down for a long time. “I am beyond hope. However, I do not think my brother is.”

There was a long pause. “Why do you think you’re beyond hope?”

Null didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to the wall. This training room was the only room in the building that he had made an attempt at decorating. Rough sheets of paper adorned the walls, each covered in intricate sketches of ancient Tartarian scenes. “When I first went Outside, I would have thought I was dreaming, if it were not for the fact that it was more colorful than my wildest imaginings. I stared at the great light in the sky until I hurt my eyes. I didn’t dare look away, because I was afraid I would never see it again if I did. And I thought to myself, ‘How can one so undeserving see such beauty as this?’ Then I saw your Solarium. It was more frightening than any monster I have ever fought. So much light, so much color, so much life. I understood at once why you fight each other. Who would not battle to claim such beauty for themselves? What I fight for seems so hopeless in comparison.”

It wasn’t even close to an answer to Starswirl’s question, and the unicorn knew it. She didn’t seem happy with the response. “But fighting each other is wrong,” she said. “They—we should accept our differences and try to help each other. There’s nothing ponies can’t do when we work together.” Null merely stared at the wall. “Why do you stay here?” Starswirl asked. “Not just you. Your whole tribe. Your ancestors came running away from Discord. But Discord died a long time ago. Why stay?”

Null closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I… I do not know. I have never thought about it before.” He looked up. “Perhaps it is because we are afraid of what lies beyond our walls.”

“Then why aren’t you afraid of getting involved in a war that isn’t your own?”

He shrugged. “Death and combat are old friends to us. Every day the Shadow Guard stops countless horrors from destroying Elysium.”

Starswirl chewed her tongue. “Fear of the unknown is very common, but I don’t think it should control us.” She looked at the sketches on the wall. “These are very nice. Did you draw them?”

“Yes.”

She looked at his cutie mark. “Ah, I see. That’s a graphite stick, isn’t it? So your special talent is drawing? Why are you a Shadow Guard then?”

“It is a noble task. And… I am fit for nothing else.”

Starswirl looked at him oddly. “Why is that?”

Null did not answer. The two of them stared at the sketches for a long time. Eventually Null noticed that the unicorn seemed to be moving her lips.

“You can read this?”

Starswirl looked at him. “Oh, yeah! The symbols on these walls are an old Classical Era script. The dialect is different, but it’s not impossible to work out.” She brought up a hoof to her mouth and cleared her throat. “‘Beyond these doors lies the prison of Domitian the Harvester, Necromancer King of the Minotaurs, Sovereign of Steel, Master of Murder…” She stopped and looked at him sheepishly. “The titles go on for a while.”

She looked at Null, and realized the pegasus was staring at her with mouth agape. “You mean… you can’t read these?”

“No pony ever has,” Null whispered.

Starswirl smiled. “Well, if you get me some more of these sketches, I can write up a translation in a jiffy!”

“Yes,” Null said, almost to himself. “Yes. You must. Wait right here.” He disappeared so fast he might have teleported, returning a few minutes later with a large stack of sketches, graphite sticks, and blank sheets.

“That’s… a lot of paper!” Starswirl said, feeling like she had taken on a bit much. “But, umm…” she added upon seeing the look on Null’s face, “We’re probably going to be here awhile, so I’ll get started!”

Null nodded wordlessly and dropped it on the floor. “You can use the study,” he said, before flying out the door of the house into the wild gray yonder.

Twilight Sparkle sat on top of the tower, staring furiously as the oscilloscope screen as a bright purple dot ran across the screen repeatedly, running up and down. Furrowing her brows, she quickly grabbed a roll of paper being printed out from another machine and inspected it. Grumbling, she peered back at the oscilloscope and gave it a few good thumps with her hoof. The purple dot resolutely refused to change.

“Well that makes no sense.”

As if on cue, the ground began to shake. A great rumbling issued out from far below, filling the entire cavernous void of Tartarus, while a huge wind sucked her papers out towards the giant tree. The chains attaching the platforms of Elysium rattled as the entire place shook. Then it stopped, as suddenly as it began.

Twilight looked around. “What was that?”

Moments later, Null’s voice floated up from the bottom of the stairs. “Miss Sparkle!”

“Yes?”

“The time of the festival is here! Please come down!”

Scowling, Twilight descended the stairs. “What was that shaking just now?”

“It was the Second Tremor.” Null was dressed in ceremonial black armor with white trimmings, and even had a gilded sword strapped to his side. Starswirl was standing close behind him. “The monster imprisoned at the bottom of the Pit breathes once per day. Its inhalation is the First Tremor, its exhalation, the Second. We use it to set the day and night.”

Twilight was still stuck on the word “monster”. She briefly tried to envision a creature large enough to make all of Tartarus shake by breathing. She failed miserably.

“Ok, um, do I need to wear anything? I didn’t pack any dresses…”

“You are beautiful as you are.” Null blinked, seemed to realize what he had said, and then hastily added, “I mean, garments are not necessary. I wear the ceremonial armor for reasons of my own.”

Twilight’s eye twitched. She wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or creeped out, and felt a small worry about what this pegasus might get up to when she was asleep. “Well then, let’s get going shall we…?”

They stepped out of the door. “Woah.”

Elysium had transformed. Banners and flags were draped from buildings, streamers hung across streets. Glowing white ribbons dangled from post to post like little streams of light, while luminescent balloons drifted through the air. As they walked down, one came close to Twilight; she reached for its string, only for it to turn, smile at her, and flap away. The quiet somberness that had draped over the city like a heavy blanket had vanished, and the air was filled with joyous raucous. Ponies were out in the streets wearing fancy clothing and armor and masks, dancing and playing beneath the stalactites. Even in monochrome, it was worthy of the finest celebrations in Canterlot.

“Is this all really for us?” Starswirl asked.

“Yes.”

Ponies that saw the two unicorns would point and look, waving and smiling enthusiastically. Twilight even found herself waving in response.

“These ponies sure know how to party,” Starswirl commented. Null made a noise. “You don’t like it?”

Null shook his head. “I used to enjoy it, long ago. Not anymore. Now I merely attend out of respect for the Hostess.”

“Hostess?”

“The Master of Ceremonies. She plans and organizes all our celebrations.”

The crowd continued to swell as they neared a large platform prevented only by lengths of gargantuan chain from plummeting into the abyss. Every pony in the city seemed to be heading for it. It would have been hard to move, but the streets parted like water at the approach of Null. It was then Twilight noted that some of the ponies weren’t focused on her and Starswirl; instead, they seemed to be regarding Null with a strange kind of respect, even fear.

It was all so different from what she was used to. Ponies in Canterlot wouldn’t point and wave. It was beneath the prissy manners of the city that regarded itself as the most proper in all of Equestria. Canterlot ponies walked around with their necks straight and their noses lifted slightly in the air, giving off an air of supremacy over the world around them. And Solarium ponies tended less to walk than slink, always trying to look submissive and non-threatening, looking around as though they were always being watched. She wondered what ponies were like in Manehattan, or Fillydelphia, or Cloudsdale. Would they, too, have some unique air to them?

A small ocean of ponies had gathered in the central plaza. Null and the unicorns skirted around the edge towards a large, raised platform off the side. The plaza was filled with vendors selling all manner of what Twilight assumed was food—it certainly didn’t resemble anything edible she had ever seen.

“Can we get something to eat?” Starswirl asked. “I’m starving.”

Null looked at her, then walked over to a nearby vendor. After exchanging a few words, he came back with two long wooden rods impaled with… things. Some of them glowed. Twilight could have sworn she saw one of them wriggle.

“Um, thanks.” Starswirl levitated one over. Null offered the other one to Twilight, who eyed it carefully before floating it towards her mouth.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Plump Criss and Glowing Mane Mushroom.”

Twilight stared at the kebab. It looked more like a plastic children’s toy than food. She watched Starswirl sniff it, then cautiously take a bite.

Her face lit up. “It’s good!”

Dubious, Twilight nibbled the edge of one of the glowing mushrooms. It was… delicious. She couldn’t describe it any other way. The flavor was utterly unlike anything she had ever tasted before, but it was incredible. She could feel warm energy running down her throat and spreading throughout the rest of her body. She devoured the rest of the kebab with gusto. Wow, with food like this, I can understand why somepony would decide to stay here.

“I like it,” she declared.

Null seemed relieved. “Would you like some more?”

“Sure! Uh, do we have to pay…?”

“No exchange required of our esteemed guests of honor!” piped the vendor, who had been watching from his booth.

Null grabbed two more kebabs and handed them to the unicorns, and they proceeded up a set of stairs. At the top of the stairs was a wide viewing area, filled with fancy chairs and important-looking ponies.

“Ah, Miss Sparkle and Miss Starswirl,” Light Unseen greeted them, bowing. “Welcome to our festival. I trust that you have found our hospitality to have not been wanting?”

Starswirl took the lead. “Your hospitality has been most gracious,” she said, bowing in turn. “We thank you for your kindness.”

“You are most welcome. Now if I may introduce you…” Light Unseen gestured to an old, pale unicorn. “This is Zero, Princeps of Elysium and chief of our tribe. Zero, this is Miss Twilight Sparkle and Miss Starswirl.”

“It is an honor, sir,” Starswirl said, bowing. Twilight followed.

Zero staggered forward. Despite his advanced age and clumsy movement, there was a purpose to his gait that belied his strength and wisdom. One did not grow to be old in Tartarus without learning to be very good at survival. “You need not bow in my presence, esteemed guests. I am merely the first amongst equals. Great things shall come of the alliance of our nations, I am certain.” He handed over two glasses of reddish-black liquid to the two unicorns and raised one of his own. “To the future.”

“To the future,” Twilight and Starswirl said together. Twilight toasted her glass, eyed the liquid, and took a sip. It tasted like a mixture of grapes and raspberries, and smelled slightly of alcohol.

A small gray Earth pony dressed in black armor and wearing a cape bounded towards them. “Null!” She leapt onto the pegasus, swinging around his neck with a hoof.

Null didn’t budge an inch. “Hello, Tear.”

“Oh, it’s been ages, Null!” She kissed him on the cheek. “How have you been? How was the Outside?”

“Fine. I would take you to see it next time, Tear, if you could be spared from the defense of Elysium.”

“Ah, defense, defense.” Tear waved a hoof dismissively. “Always so busy. We could have used you, Null, about two days ago when the ice giants were being restless.”

“I trust you handled them well?”

“Broke them like glass,” Tear said with a wink. “I had to work overtime to make it to the festival. I’m the temporary master of ceremonies, you know.”

“Ah. Is the Hostess not here?”

Tear smile vanished. “She and Void are performing the last rites for their child’s burial. She will arrive at the end of the festival to meet our esteemed guests… and give her greetings to you, Null.”

Null nodded. There was a loud tolling of a bell from above. “Ah, the time is here.” Tear said. “Where is the Magnifier…?” She looked around, grabbed a fancy cone-shaped object from a chair, and put it to her mouth. “Testing, testing!” The artifact not only amplified her voice, but gave it a screaming demonic reverb effect. She grinned, gave a salute, and then jumped.

The unicorns gaped as the Earth pony rocketed off the balcony and landed on the stage a few hundred feet away and several stories below, cape fluttering in the rushing wind of her wake. Then the music started, and the din of the crowd quieted.

“ELYSIUM! WELCOME TO THE FESTIVAL OF FIRST CONTACT, TO HONOR OUR ESTEEMED GUESTS FROM THE OUTSIDE, TWILIGHT SPARKLE AND STARSWIRL!”

A huge mirror swung around behind a bonfire to direct a beam of light squarely onto the two unicorns. Twilight blinked, dazzled by the sudden light, while Starswirl waved cheerfully.

“OUR FIRST PERFORMANCE TONIGHT SHALL BE THE PLAY ‘WALPURGIS NIGHT’ BY THE ACTORS GUILD!”

Again Tear leapt off the stage in that astounding way. A troupe of ponies dressed in outlandish costumes and masks trotted onstage. “Hear ye, hear ye!” one began, “This tale tells the great Walpurgis, and her great adventures amidst the twilight days at world’s end…”

The play involved a lot of dramatic speeches and some singing and dancing. Constant references to things Twilight had no clue about made the plot difficult to understand, but as best she could tell it was about a unicorn witch who had made a deal with a monster for power and was hunting for an artifact that would let her avoid paying her soul. There were some other ponies involved somehow, and a lot of betrayals and monologues about trust and pony nature. Three times she thought it was over, but then the play had continued on. By the time it actually ended she was quite confused.

“AND NOW, RECITATIONS OF POETRY FROM OUR BELOVED ARTISAN’S GUILD!”

This Twilight fared no better in understanding, and she spent most of the time focused on sipping her Tartarian wine. She had never been one for alcohol, but this stuff was quite good. After the poetry came a small orchestra with some dancers. Twilight was impressed by how coordinated the dancing ponies were, making all sorts of shapes and symbols with their bodies, moving as one across the stage. The next group of dancers twirled about with glowing white streamers, and made beautiful swirling patterns. The groups after that were less impressive. The music wasn’t quite to Twilight’s taste, but it was a far cry better than what came after…

“ELYSIUM! ARE YOU READY TO RUUUMMMBLEEE?!”

“The Band of Rocks” took the stage, so called because all their instruments were made of… rocks. The cheers from the crowd were ecstatic. Twilight couldn’t figure out why for the life of her, because the music sounded like they were playing the wails of dying cats. But the crowd loved it, stomping in time with the beat until the ground began to shake.

Then the acrobatics started. Stunt fliers took the air, streams of white light trailing behind them as they danced above the crowd. Ponies leapt across the stage, doing cartwheels and jumping on each other’s heads. There were a pair of fire-breathers, the gouts of flame soaring dozens of feet into the air before dissipating. Then Tear jumped onto the stage, and Twilight watched as two spherical boulders the size of a Timberwolf tank were rolled down a pair of chutes above the stage.

“She’s going to be crushed!” she shouted, standing up as the boulders fell down towards her. Then her eyes grew wide as dinner plates, and slowly, she sat back down.

Tear caught the boulders as easily as if they were made of paper mache. More boulders rolled down the gutter, and she began to juggle.

The crowd roared, stomping even harder until the entire platform began swinging on its chains. With the ground beneath her now swaying like the deck of a ship, Tear rolled over onto her back to juggle with all four legs, then lifted herself off on one front leg and juggled with the other three. Starswirl clapped her hooves together. “These ponies definitely know how to party!”

Then there was a roar that was most certainly not the crowd. It came from above; an immense skeletal dragon, pegasi swarming around it like ants, flew in from Treewards. It cruised above the streets, and freezing everything beneath it with its breath.

The Tartarians screamed. “Get down!” Null shouted, jumping on top of the two unicorns and drawing his sword.

But Tear, not missing a beat, turned around and bucked her boulders one by one into the air. The dragon swerved, trying to dodge, but it was far too large to be agile. The first two missed, the third dealt a glancing blow, the fourth hit it right in the center, and the fifth sailed through its chest, causing it to explode in a shower of bones.

Twilight peeked up. “Was that a part of the show?” she shouted over the noise of the crowd.

“No!” Null shouted. He turned to Zero. “Princeps! The lower Clockwise-Edgewards watch must have been broken! Allow me to go—”

Zero shook his head. “No, Null. The crisis is already over. As our greatest warrior, you must continue to protect our guests above all else. Tear shall go.” He turned towards the balcony and signaled to the stage.

“SORRY, MY FRIENDS! IT SEEMS OUR FESTIVAL SHALL BE CURTAILED TONIGHT! FEAR NOT AND SLEEP SOUNDLY, FOR NO MONSTERS SHALL TROUBLE THEE TONIGHT!”

Slowly, the crowd began to calm down, and gradually streamed out towards the rest of the city. Swarms of pegasi took to the air to collect the bones of the skeletal dragon before they reassembled.

Null and the unicorns walked back to his house in silence. Twilight was still stunned from how suddenly the dragon had appeared and how suddenly it had been destroyed. She had trouble processing her thoughts. Maybe it was the alcohol; she did feel a little tipsy. She couldn’t help but keep looking at Null. The look on Starswirl’s face told her she was thinking the same thing. “Our greatest warrior”? So he’s stronger than a pony that can jump hundreds of feet and juggle boulders like nothing?

When they got back to Null’s house, there were two ponies waving from the escarpment. One was Void, the other an Earth pony mare who Twilight assumed was the wife she had heard about. The trio proceeded up the stairs onto the escarpment, where the other two ponies met her.

Twilight felt Starswirl freeze behind her.

“Hello, Void, Hostess,” Null said.

“Null,” the Hostess said wearily. She was an average-sized pony, gray like the rest of the Tartarians but tinged slightly pink, with long straight hair that fell to her shoulders. “When can you at last return to using my name?”

“Perhaps one day, Hostess.” There was a small, sad smile on his features.

Void smiled and gestured with his hoof. “Twilight Sparkle, Starswirl, this is my wife—”

“I can introduce myself perfectly fine, dear,” the Hostess interrupted, smiling widely. She turned and bowed.

“My name is Pinkamena Diane Pie.”

Author's Note

Prospects for Making a Bose-Einstein-Condensed Positronium Annihilation Gamma Ray Laser is the title of a real research paper, and in my opinion wins the competition for the most badass-sounding science paper ever written.

Chapter 13: Oblivion

Chapter 13
Oblivion

“The reason children are told to believe the small lies, like the tooth fairy or Santa, is to prepare them to believe the big ones. Justice. Friendship. Love. Happiness. In the end, there is only death. Only the harvest.”
- Domitian the Necromancer, King of the Minotaurs

Twilight nodded and bowed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Pinkamena. I must say, that’s a bit of an unusual name for a pony.”

“I have an unusual family,” Pinkamena answered. Her smile was genuine, but Twilight could see that her eyes were still red. “Also, you can call me Pinkie Pie, for short.”

“Pinkie Pie,” Twilight said, testing the words in her mouth. “Easier to say than Pinkamena, that’s for sure.”

Pinkie giggled. “I trust you enjoyed the festival?”

Twilight nodded eagerly. “Yeah, it was great. I especially liked the acrobatics. Shame about the dragon.”

“Oh,” Pinkie said, cheerfully dismissing the undead with a wave of her hoof, “that sort of thing happens all the time. All the noise attracts the monsters. I do not mind, it just means I get to use the unused ideas for the next festival! I am very happy you liked it by the way, I have been planning for your arrival for a very long time.” She started to smile, but her eyes fell on Starswirl. “Is… is your sister alright?”

Twilight turned around. Starswirl was as still as if she had been hit by the skeletal dragon’s frost breath. Twilight felt a strange temptation to prod her and see if she fell over. “Starswirl?”

There was no response. She tried again. “Starswirl?”

Still nothing. Pressing her lips together tightly, Twilight leaned in close to Starswirl’s ear and whispered, “Twilight Sparkle!”

Starswirl jolted out of her catatonia. “Wha- huh?” She looked around wildly.

Twilight looked at her with a concerned expression. “Are you ok?”

Starswirl’s eyes flickered back towards Pinkie Pie. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine.”

Pinkie and Void were looking at her with worried curiosity. “Well, it’s getting late,” Void said. “We best be going, Pinkie.”

“Very well, Void,” Pinkie answered, and waved at the two unicorns. “Goodbye!”

“Good night!” Twilight said. Starswirl didn’t reply. The two unicorns returned to the house.

“Null, a word, if you please,” Void said as they started walking away. Null walked over, and his brother pulled him in close. “Look, you’re living alone with two beautiful young mares. Don’t spend the whole time in the training room. Loosen up a little. Make some conversation. Have a little fun, understand?”

“Void is right,” Pinkie added. She looked up and down Null’s body. “You know we only want the best for you, Null.”

Null looked away. “Thank you for your concern, brother, Hostess. I shall endeavor to do as you say.”

“Goodbye.” Void walked off. Pinkie looked torn for a moment, then grabbed Null in a bear hug too quick for the pegasus to respond.

“Good night!” she called as she descended the ramp.

Null watched the two ponies walk away. After they had vanished from sight, he turned and trotted down towards the town.

Back in the house, Twilight was starting to feel a little woozy. Entropus come, what was in that wine? I only had one glass! She collapsed into the chair closest to the door and rubbed her head.

Starswirl sat down in the seat across from her, taking absolutely no notice of the other unicorn as she stared at the floor. Finally the silence became too much for Twilight.

“What was that all about?”

Starswirl looked up, her gaze still distant. “Hmm?”

“Don’t ‘hmm?’ me. Why did you freeze up like that?”

“Oh,” Starswirl said, her eyes finally focusing on Twilight. “That… that was Pinkie Pie.”

“Yes, that was her name.” If it was possible to nod sarcastically, Twilight was doing it.

“No, you don’t understand!” Starswirl squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before continuing. “Remember my friends that I told you about?”

“Yeah,” Twilight said, nodding. Then the light of realization sparkled in her eyes. “Oh! That Pinkie Pie!” She rubbed her chin. “She didn’t really seem like the Element of Laughter to me.”

“I know, that’s why…” Starswirl’s voice trailed off. She shook her head. “She’s completely different! You, Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash are all pretty much the way you should be, but Pinkie…”

Anger roiled in Twilight’s chest at the words should be. “Well,” she said carefully, leaning back in her chair, “you can’t expect everypony to stay the same when the timeline’s changed so much.”

“I guess…” Starswirl was staring at the floor again. “It’s Tartarus. It’s all Tartarus. She can’t be herself here. It’s like the rock farm back in my world. All lifeless and unhappy. She didn’t become who she truly was until she saw the sonic rainboom.” She looked up. “That was how I got my cutie mark. That was how we all got our cutie marks.”

Twilight leaned back in her chair even more. “I’ve never seen a sonic rainboom,” she said wistfully. She somewhat regretted missing the opportunity at Solarium; there had been two sonic rainboom then, but she had been underground when the first one happened and thrown off a building for the second. “I think Solarium’s been trying to capture that pegasus for years. Oh, what I’d do to get my hooves on her. Just imagine how powerful a weaponized version could be!”

“That pegasus is one of my best friends!” Starswirl snarled. She snorted, shaking her head. “Why does everything always have to be weapons with you? Is killing ponies more effectively all you think about?”

Twilight growled. “Well, sorry if I can’t be all sunshine and rainbows in golden meadows. Some of us have to deal with reality.”

Starswirl shook her head. “This is reality! What’s real is that you don’t have to kill each other to solve your problems! If you’re all good ponies, then you can just all sit down and talk your problems out and come up with a solution together! There’s nothing we can’t do if we work together!”

“You try working together with ponies that are trying to kill you so they can steal your technology.”

“Well, why don’t you just share your technology?”

“Because even if we did, we’re still competing for the same resources! And there’s not enough to go around! I already explained this all to you, Starswirl, only some of us can live in the end and I’d rather it be us than them!”

Starswirl shook her head in disgust. “You’ll never make the Elements of Harmony work thinking like that. They’re channeled by love and friendship. By this,” she said, tapping her heart, “not this.” She touched her head.

Twilight scoffed. “Tick Tock made the Elements work just fine using a machine. He didn’t need love. He didn’t even need to put them on his head. The Element Bearers helped fend Discord off, but they weren’t necessary in the end.”

“Well, that was the Elements of Chaos,” Starswirl said pointedly. “And besides, that didn’t work out so well for the world.”

“Don’t you dare!” Twilight snapped. She was half off her chair now, front hooves on the ground. “You can’t judge him! You can’t even imagine how bad things were back then! Just look around you!” She waved a hoof in the general direction of Elysium. “How desperate do you think these ponies had to be to prefer Tartarus to Discord! You heard Null, they die by the hundreds in here, the city’s filled with orphans and widows and widowers! And that’s still better than Discord!”

Starswirl paused. “I’ve met Discord. I’ve fought him. I’ve beat him. And I can say from personal experience that you don’t need to destroy huge parts of the planet to stop him. Not when you’re using the magic of friendship.” She looked down. “Even Discord learned about friendship, in the end. All he needed was to be shown a little kindness.”

Twilight stared. “... What?”

Starswirl looked up and smiled awkwardly. “We… after we imprisoned Discord in stone, Princess Celestia told us to try and reform him. So we set him free again.” Twilight’s eyes bulged. “I… I didn’t think he could be reformed. But Fluttershy… my world’s Fluttershy, she did. And she took him into her home, and showed him kindness, and became his friend. And… it worked. Discord realized how important her friendship was to him, and said he’d use his power for good from then on.” She paused. “Well, I mean, I still don’t trust him, but Fluttershy does, and I trust Fluttershy. We still keep the Elements close by though, just in case.”

Twilight just… stared. “I… I don’t believe it.”

Starswirl nodded sadly. “It’s true.”

“No. It can’t be.” Twilight’s head turned from side to side. “That’s… you’re lying. There’s no way that can be true. You… you really expect me to believe something like that?”

“I’m telling the truth!”

“No!” Twilight was up on all fours now, screaming. “It can’t be! Discord was pure evil! He was pure, undiluted evil that murdered and tortured ponies for fun and ruined the world and is responsible for all our suffering and he had no redeeming qualities whatsoever!”

Twilight slowly slumped back into her chair. Neither of them spoke or even looked at each other for a long time. Finally, Starswirl broke the silence.

“I know it’s a lot to take in. You don’t have to believe me. But ask yourself, ‘Would I lie to myself like this?’”

Twilight glared. “You are not me.” It was as much pleading as it was forceful statement.

They sat in silence again. When Starswirl spoke once more, it was in a whisper. “I’m not stupid, you know. I know that when you asked me to teach spells to you that you want to turn them into weapons. That’s not something I want to help with, and I don’t have to.”

“Yes you do.”

Starswirl looked up and jumped a little at the ferocity of Twilight’s gaze.

“I brought you to this world. My machine. My spell. My magic. Without my data, you can’t hope to understand the vortex that brought you here and make another one. So you can choose to help me, or you can choose to never go home. To never see your precious friends again.”

Starswirl stared, wide-eyed, blinking. Tears collected in the corners of her eyes. She shrank back. “I… I… I never thought I could be so cruel.”

Like a key, the word unlocked the floodgates behind Twilight’s rage. “CRUEL?! DON’T YOU TRY AND TELL ME WHAT’S CRUEL!” she screamed, jumping off the chair and slamming onto the floor between them. “You think you’re so much better than me?! You don’t know what it’s like! Everything good about you was given to you on a silver platter by an alicorn princess! Without her you wouldn’t be any good at magic or have any friends! If it weren’t for her you wouldn’t even be able to control your magic! You’ve never had to struggle! She gave you everything!”

Her horn began to spark uncontrollably. Furniture began to rise up into the air. Twilight knew it was happening. She couldn’t stop it. She never could. Unlike some other unicorns, magic always came to her so easily, forever within easy reach, but that didn’t mean it was easy to interpret, to control, and if magic always came so easily whenever she wanted it, it meant that it also came even if she didn’t. Magic always has a mind of its own.

“You want to know how I got my cutie mark? I was taking the entrance exam for the Canterlot Unicorn Academy! When the store across the street exploded in a terrorist attack! And that set me off, made my magic surge uncontrollably! I brought down the building. I killed the test proctor. AND THEN I SPENT THE NEXT THREE YEARS IN A SOLARIUM LAB AS THEY STUDIED ME TO FIND OUT WHY I HAD SO MUCH MAGIC!”

Chairs and tables squeaked and groaned as magic tore at their joints. Starswirl curled up in her seat, trembling. Twilight was right in front of her now, jabbing her hoof into her chest. Starswirl knew that Twilight Sparkle would never hurt her, but what was before her wasn’t just Twilight Sparkle.

Magenta lightning began to arc around the room. She tried to stop. She tried. But it was too late. She was no longer in control. The dam was broken, and it would not stop until it was empty.

“So don’t you dare to try and judge me! You have a Princess that teaches you everything she knows and gives you everything you need! You have a brother that doesn’t have to run off to war and then every second he’s gone you worry if he’s going to come back! You have a dad who’s still alive! You have friends that love and care about you…”

The furniture imploded into balls of crushed wood and stone. Twilight took her hoof off Starswirl’s chest and tried to wipe away her own tears. “I- it’s n- not fair… You d- don’t deserve it… I could have b- been you… I should be you… T- the only reason I’m not… the o- only reason you’re so much better than me… is luck.”

She sat down on the floor. The crumpled balls of furniture fell to the ground. The lake of her emotions had finally emptied, and what flowed now were the tears, coming in great rivers, and despite her best efforts she could no more stem them than she had her feelings.

Starswirl shook her head, her face despondent. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never thought… I never realized I was making you feel that way…”

She reached out a hoof. Twilight slapped it away.

“Don’t touch me.”

She ran outside.

When Null came back up hefting two large buckets of water dangling from a bar on his shoulders, Twilight was sitting on the edge of the escarpment, her puffy red eyes fixated on the city below. He placed the buckets down and stood there for a few moments. “Are you ok?”

Twilight nodded slowly, not looking away from the city. “Did you hear me shouting?”

Null opened his mouth, then closed it. Then, deciding honesty was the better virtue, he said, “Yes. I was concerned you might wake the dead.”

Twilight looked at him. If anyone else had said that, she would have automatically assumed they were kidding. But Null looked utterly serious, and this was Tartarus, so…

“Was that a joke?”

The pegasus pulled up next to her and also looked out towards the city. “Yes. The dead are not so easily woken.”

They sat in silence for a while. “Is there anything I can offer you?”

Twilight shook her head. “Not unless you have some magic that can take back words already said.”

“Perhaps a shoulder to cry on, then.”

She smiled weakly. Suddenly, the long drop below no longer seemed so inviting.

“I’m… I’ll be… I’ll be fine,” she said.

Null may have only been slightly more adept at reading emotions than the buckets he was carrying, but even he had a dim sense that the best thing he could do right now was to make this pony feel useful. “I had been purposed to ask you a question,” he said, “but perhaps the time is not now.”

Twilight waved a hoof dismissively. She was willing to talk about anything, as long as it took her mind off what had just happened. “Sure, why not?”

“When our ancestors fled into Tartarus, they did not think Discord would ever be defeated. How did it happen?”

Twilight looked out at the tree. Her tone was hushed. “It began in the north. The Crystal Empire was the last free city in Equestria. King Sombra had ruled it since before Discord, unaging and immortal. With the power of the Crystal Heart, he kept Discord out of the Empire. But he wasn’t content with just that. He wanted to liberate the rest of Equestria, and he knew the Crystal Heart was the key. But it took hundreds of years for there to be born a pony capable of unlocking its power.”

She took a deep breath and smiled. “That was pony was Tick Tock. Using the Crystal Heart as his inspiration, he built the first rune engine. With its power, the Crystal Empire began its slow liberation of Equestria. Its armies marched from city to city, and with the power of Tick Tock’s rune engines behind them, could meet Discord’s forces face to face But it wasn’t enough. They could beat Discord’s minions, but Discord himself was still far too powerful. True, he couldn’t be everywhere at once, but where he went, he was unstoppable. Only the Crystal Heart itself could keep him away. And then Sombra learned about the Elements of Chaos. He heard they were a corruption of a powerful magic from before Discord’s reign. They were even more powerful than him. So he tasked a team of six ponies, some of them Crystal ponies and others refugees from other parts of Equestria, to steal them. Their names were Emeralda, Paradise, Ricochet, Twister Blitz, Ragtime, and Orion Down. They were the six Element Bearers. They snuck into Discord’s palace, the Palatium Entropus, stole the Elements, and brought them back to the Empire.”

Her smile faded. “It was a trap. With the Elements inside the Empire, Discord could manifest himself through them. He turned the Crystal Empire into rubble and killed everypony that lived there. King Sombra died fighting to the end.”

She closed her eyes. “But Discord didn’t kill everypony. Tick Tock and the Element Bearers escaped the destruction of the Empire. They wandered Equestria for years, trying to gather the resources they needed, starting rebellions everywhere they went, inspiring Equestrians to stand up against Discord. And then finally, when they were ready, they returned to the Empire and laid a trap for Discord. They lured him to the Empire and activated the Chaos Engine, killing them all.”

She looked down at her hooves. “Those seven gave their lives to save the world. I wish I could do half as much.”

Silence again. Null abruptly became aware of a presence behind them. He turned and saw Starswirl standing by the house’s door, levitating a sheet of paper in front of her, watching the two.

“Yes?” he asked.

Twilight turned her head, saw Starswirl, then bitterly turned back towards the tree. Starswirl just looked down.

“I… um… maybe now’s not the best time.”

Null stood up. “What is it?”

Starswirl pawed at the ground. “Um… I went to go translate some of your sketches, to take my mind off… certain things. And, um, I found something… interesting.”

Twilight shook her head as she stared at the tree. Null walked up to Starswirl, who showed him the page she was holding.

“The inscription refers to the ‘the original hall of Tartarus, most ancient of temples, where lay the tale of the Lord of Storms’, and gives a location. I can’t make heads or tails of where it is, but maybe you can?”

Null scanned the page. “Yes, I know of where it speaks, though I do not think anypony has ever been that deep into Erebus.”

“Well,” Twilight continued, “I think if it’s really the original hall, then it might give us a clue to Tartarus’s nature, and maybe give us a clue to why the tree is sick. It might even tell us how to heal it!”

The pegasus’s eyes ran up and down the lines of text. “Yes, I agree. It should only be a day’s journey there and back. We will go tomorrow. I will inform the Princeps. You two, sleep well.”

He flew off. Starswirl looked out at Twilight’s back, then went into the house. After a long while, Twilight did as well.

“You’re going past the Abyssal Dark?” Void asked.

“Yes,” Null answered.

Pinkie had a worried expression on her face. “Shouldn’t somepony else go with you?”

Void shook his head. “Out that far, they risk the attention of the Requiems. Any more than three is no longer safe.”

Pinkie shook her head. “I don’t like this, Null. It is too dangerous.”

“We will be fine, Hostess. I shall not let harm come to them.”

“It is not them I am worried about,” Pinkie muttered under her breath.

Null turned across the street to the other members of his party near the outer gate of Elysium. Twilight and Starswirl were talking with Zero and Light Unseen, the latter of whom were giving the former advice about how to behave beyond the borders of Elysium. The two unicorns were standing noticeably far apart, and didn’t seem to want to meet each other’s eyes. “Are all ready to depart?” he asked.

All four ponies looked at him. “I think so,” Starswirl said. Twilight merely nodded.

“Good luck, and safe journeys,” Light Unseen said.

“We are trusting you with their safety, Null,” Zero added. “The darkness guard thee.”

“Be safe!” Pinkie called, waving her hoof wildly. Void simply smiled at his brother.

Butter Pie, the half-pony half-chariot, was waiting outside the gates. The unicorns piled in, edging as far away from each other as possible, and within moments they were flying out over the floor of Tartarus, soaring betwixt the mountain-like stalactites. Despite its size, Tartarus was still only half an hour from end to end as the pegasus flies, and in no time at all the ponies had landed on the rooftop of a large square building studded with nasty-looking metal stakes.

“This is as far as I can go,” Butter Pie said as the unicorns hopped off.

Twilight looked around. Before them was a long chasm spanned by a thin stone bridge. The light of the tree seemed strangely faint and distant, despite them being no further away than when they were in Elysium. The darkness here hung like a heavy fog, closing in around them like some kind of predator. She shivered. Was this the Abyssal Dark they had been talking about?

She cast a light spell. It didn’t help. She turned to Null. “What’s going on?”

“It is merely darkness,” the pegasus explained, striding towards the bridge. “Do not worry, it will not harm you unless you stay here. But it would be wise to stay close to me.”

The two unicorns nervously brushed up on either side of him. Twilight peered out over the edge of the bridge. The chasm below seemed to extend all the way down to the Tartarian floor, and was filled with the ruined hulks of strange metal contraptions, in the middle of which was a massive metallic pyramid on which was inscribed alien, unreadable letterings.

The bridge was too narrow to cross except one pony at a time, so Twilight and Starswirl trailed behind Null. Twilight mildly resented being in such close proximity to the other unicorn, but nervousness was outweighing all other feelings now. She felt tempted to clamp onto Null’s tail with her mouth just to make sure they didn’t get separated.

Then, as they approached the center of the bridge, the tip of the pyramid opened up. A beam of light enveloped the three ponies, and the writing on the pyramid’s surface shifted, transforming into the standard Equestrian script.

PERFECT MACHINE
PERFECT JUSTICE

A slow murmur began to develop, a low ominous chant to which she could not make out the words. “What’s going on?”

“Do not worry, it is harmless,” Null said.

“You seem to say that about everything,” Twilight muttered. But they made it across the bridge without incident, and the light shut off.

Before them was a massive citadel-like structure of stone battlements and turrets ringed with iron. Null walked up to the doors and, with some effort, pushed them open. The doors creaked aside, revealing a large entrance hall with several doorways that ran off to the sides, and a central staircase that branched off both right and left. In the middle of the staircase was a colossal statue of… something. It was vaguely amoeba-like in form, like the sculptor had wanted to convey a sluggish liquid, but there were jagged, crystal-like protrusions coming out of it, and the walls behind it depicted a red tidal wave consuming a city. As they came closer, a plaque at the base of the statue said, Cruor Mors, the River of Death.

“D- did that plaque just talk?” Starswirl asked.

“Umm, Null?” Twilight asked nervously.

“It is of no danger,” Null said.

The two unicorns shook their heads, exchanged glances, then quickly looked away from each other.

They went past the statue and up the stairs into a maze of labyrinthine corridors and staircases that spanned black abysses. Twilight and Starswirl clung closely to Null, knowing full well that if they got seperated there was no hope of finding their way back. The pegasus proceeded through the maze with determined focus, always moving purposefully forward, never once stopping to doubt their path. In the silence, the echoes of their footsteps could be heard a dozen times before fading.

“Have you been here before?” Twilight asked.

Null nodded. “Yes. Void, I, and the Hostess used to explore here in our teenage years.”

“I thought I recognized some of these places from your sketches,” Starswirl murmured.

They closed in on a particularly evil-looking building partially embedded in the cavern wall, composed entirely of metal twisted into terrible spires that looked perfect for impaling ponies on. “This is a shortcut,” Null said as he knocked at the door. The two unicorns looked warily at the metal thorns as the barbed gates swung open.

They walked into an enormous hallway made of the same twisting metal as the outside, wide enough to drive several trains down side-by-side, with a roof that arched several stories overhead. The doors shut behind them, causing Twilight to jump. The hall should have been completely dark, but there was an eerie light that illuminated the steel contortions, tinting the silvery metals the color of blood.

And then spirits began to rise from the floor, ghostly red images of ponies and griffons and minotaurs. They lined the edges of the hall, thousands of them, all staring at the ponies as they walked by. Spectral flame burned at their feet.

They began to sing, a long, haunting chorus in a language Twilight did not understand.

“This is it, isn’t it?” Starswirl whispered. “The place from the sketches. Domitian's prison.”

Null nodded.

“What are they singing about?” Twilight asked.

Starswirl shrugged. “I don’t know.” She looked at Null.

The pegasus was silent for a while. Then he began in a low murmur.

“Pain and heartbreak, the tears of sin.

The judging scythe glows shining silver.

The flower of love blooms and sinks into the pit.

Cut by the scythe that glows filthy silver.

The tears of sin change into its voice.

Judging my love, the abyss takes all.

The scythe of my hand glows bloody silver.”

He paused, and added, “would be a rough translation.”

The hallway opened up into a large circular chamber, at the center of which was a raised dais with a massive throne that looked to be made entirely of broken weapons: swords and spears, maces and hammers, axes and staves. Seated on the throne was a gargantuan figure, clad all in steel armor and a helmet that shrouded the face in darkness. Twilight took one look at those hands and shivered; the enormous gauntlet could have crushed her head in its grip like an orange.

“That must be Domitian!” Starswirl whispered.

Whatever he was, someone had very evidently not wanted him to escape. Every inch of the metal figure was wrapped in chains that extended out in every direction, shackling it to the walls, floor and ceiling via almost a hundred different points. Twilight had to keep jumping and ducking to avoid the chains, taking great care not to touch a single one. She didn’t know what might happen if she did, but she had the distinct feeling the face underneath the helmet was watching them. They made it to the other side of the room without incident. Null pressed a spot on the wall, and a door opened up into another hallway, with more hallways branching off of it. “Past here I am not familiar with the path, so tread lightly and stay alert.”

And as he turned to face them, Twilight noticed that the bell around his neck had the exact same patterns of ornamentation as the metal figure…

The paths here were darker. They were deep within the rock now, and the light of the white tree no longer reached. Twilight and Starswirl both cast light spells and made the darkness retreat, at least a little bit.

They came to a place where the path forked into three identical black tunnels. Null paused at the split, squinting down the leftmost hall. “Would one of you kindly shine your light this way?”

Starswirl trotted over and pointed her horn down the path. Twilight scanned the other two. There was something about the one on the right…

“Does anypony else hear that?” she asked.

Null and Starswirl looked around. “Yeah,” Starswirl said. “Like a dripping sound.”

Twilight peered down the rightmost hall, but that wasn’t where the sound was coming from. She followed the echoes of the slow drips to a small black puddle on the ground right by the entrance. She looked up; liquid was leaking through a crack in the ceiling, falling in the occasional small drop. She held out a hoof to catch one of the drops, then brought it close to her eyes.

“Is that… blood?”

A stone wall suddenly slammed down from the ceiling with a sound like the crack of thunder. Twilight jumped and rolled forward as the wall came down, sealing off the hall and the other two ponies behind her. She heard Starswirl screaming on the other side, and scrambled against the wall, beating on the stone with her hoof.

“Starswirl? Null?”

“Twilight!” Starswirl shouted. Her voice was barely audible through the barrier. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine! Are you?”

“We’re ok!”

“What is happening to you?” Null asked. It was probably the loudest Twilight had ever heard him speak.

Twilight looked around, the light from her horn scanning the hallway like a searchlight. There was nothing, just darkness and rocks. “I don’t know! I can’t see anything!”

“Have you been blinded?”

Twilight paused. “No! I can see, it’s just an empty hallway!”

“We will come! Wait there, but don’t hesitate to run if you believe you are in dang—”

The voice was cut off. Silence fell. Twilight pounded at the wall. “Null? Starswirl?” She paused. “Twilight?”

The only answer was from her echoes. Twilight turned around to face the hallway again… and noticed that there were now two hallways. An opening on her right had appeared where that had only been stone, leading into another identical hallway.

She sat down on the ground and took deep breaths. “Alright,” she whispered to herself, taking comfort in her own voice, “it’s fine. It’s going to be fine. They’re going to come get me, and there’s nothing to worry ab—”

Thump-thump.

A sound like the drumming of a tremendous heartbeat echoed from the right.

Thump-thump.

It was getting closer.

Twilight stood up, looked down that hallway for a moment, then bolted down the other one.

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump…

The heartbeats gradually faded away behind her. She kept running until she came into a large chamber where the path forked into three. Oh no, not again…

She inspected the three paths. The one on the left went up, and she could see some sort of eerie green light at the end. The one on the right went downwards into complete darkness and smelled of rotting flesh. The one in the middle was straight, and seemed to be filled with tree roots. She took a few steps into that hall and poked one of the roots. Nothing happened. She went back, looked between the left and central paths, then went down the latter.

The heartbeats now gone, she trotted along at a stately place. The roots gradually grew thicker and denser, climbing out of cracks in the walls. But what kind of trees could possibly be growing here in the rocks? And why only this hallway? It soon became hard to keep going due to the number and size of the roots strewn along the path.

Something brushed her leg. Twilight jumped, then turned around, shining her light all around her. There was nothing, only the roots.

Then she noticed that some of the roots were moving…

Twilight yelped and ran back the way she came, galloping as fast as she could without tripping over the roots. A dead end met her, a solid wall of stone in the middle of the path.

“What?!” she shouted at the wall. “I just came this way!”

The wall refused to answer. Twilight turned around and galloped down the hall for a third time. Now the movement of the roots was unmistakable, wriggling and writhing like tentacles. She tried very hard to ignore the fact that they were beginning to act more and more like snakes.

A root raised itself off the ground, causing her to stumble and fall. It coiled around her leg. “No!” Twilight cried, kicking herself free. But more roots were extending towards her, snaking around her legs and tail, pulling her down…

“Stay back!” She cast a spell that threw up a brilliant magenta bubble that expanded out from her horn, pushing back the roots as it surrounded her. She started to breathe a sigh of relief, then noticed the roots were now crawling over the surface of her shield, piling onwards in ever-thicker layers.

She tried to move the shield. She couldn’t. The roots had completely covered her bubble and were still trying to squeeze their way in. She was trapped. Twilight sat down on the ground and looked around nervously. They better get here soon…

She felt it before she heard it. A crack in the bubble. A sound like breaking glass. She looked behind her in horror to see the roots beginning to force themselves through her shield.

Twilight screamed. The bubble shattered, and like water through a broken dam the roots came rushing through, wrapping around her body like snakes, dragging her down onto the floor. She tried to blast her way through, but for every root she destroyed, ten took its place, and soon she was pinned to the ground, unable to move, the roots crushing the life from her body, the last part of her still visible just one hoof, reaching up towards the ceiling. Then that too was pulled into the darkness.

“We’ve been searching for hours,” Starswirl complained. “Do you think she’s alright?”

Null looked up the chasm they were in at the long bridges spanning the distance. “Do you desire reassurance, or honesty?”

“Um. Honesty?”

Null tilted his head. “She’s probably already dead.”

Starswirl stared. “W- why do you think that?”

The pegasus looked down. “That wall did not come down out of coincidence. There was a will behind that, one filled with malice. It chose to separate Twilight from us. That is why it cut off our sound.”

Starswirl blinked. “Why?”

“I do not know. I believe it may have sensed she was the most vulnerable of us.”

The unicorn closed her eyes tilted her head downwards. “Then it’s my fault…”

Null looked at her strangely.

“I… I shouldn’t have been so judgemental… it’s so silly of me to be judgemental… after all, if I were in her place, I would have made the same mistakes…”

Null had no idea what she was talking about and wasn’t intrusive enough to ask. The conflict between the two was none of his business. All he knew was that if there was even the slightest chance Twilight Sparkle was still alive, they had to keep searching.

Of course, there were worse things than death lurking in the bowels in Tartarus.

Twilight woke up.

She was in the middle of a stone… floor, for a lack of a better word. The stones extended out for a dozen meters in each direction and then simply turned into darkness. It wasn’t the thick, suffocating darkness she had encountered when Butter Pie had dropped them off, but the simple darkness of emptiness. Beyond the stones it was completely black, and it was impossible to tell if there was anything there or it was just empty space.

The floor was dimly lit by a single candle sitting in the middle. Beyond it was a wall. Like the floor, it extended up and sideways for several meters before abruptly vanishing into darkness. Unlike the floor, it was covered in scratches that looked like they had been made by a hoof.

At the bottom of the wall was the skeleton of an Earth pony, posture held stiff by the desiccated remnants of its tendons, its head and front legs still stretched out towards the wall in desperation.

Twilight backed away. “Oh,” she said, her voice unnaturally high-pitched. “How cliche.”

But an effective cliche, a little voice in her head said.

She turned around. Hovering in the darkness were a series of platforms, maybe fifty of them, that made a path up to a small wooden door. They were too high and too far apart to jump across.

At last, she smiled. Finally, some luck. The Earth pony must not have been able to make it up to the platforms, but Twilight Sparkle was not an Earth pony. She teleported up to the first platform, looked around in satisfaction, then teleported to the next one, and the next.

It was about six more teleports before she realized something was wrong. The floor and the wall were getting further away, but the door wasn’t getting any closer. She squinted, and counted the number of platforms between her and the door. There were thirty-two. She teleported five times, then counted again.

There were still thirty-two.

Twilight growled. Of course, there’s no way it can be that easy. She teleported back down the platforms to the floor. At least this time the numbers made sense. She paced around the candle for a few minutes, trying to figure something out, before she noticed the skeleton again.

I could have sworn it was over there a few minutes ago…

She turned around, closed her eyes, and counted to ten. Then she looked at the skeleton again. It hadn’t budged.

Sighing, she resolved to try walking out into the darkness. She trotted up to the edge of the stone area, then carefully reached a hoof out into the black area. It met a solid surface. She bent down to examine it. There was a floor there, completely black and therefore invisible, but it was there. She cautiously walked out onto it and turned around. It seemed alright. She jumped up and down. As sturdy as the stone was. She tried walking out further, but as the stone area grew smaller and smaller behind her, she still couldn’t see anything but darkness. Eventually, afraid that she might get lost forever, she walked back.

There was no mistaking it this time. The skeleton had moved again, and it was staring right at her.

A small whimper escaped her lips. She froze for several seconds, then carefully stepped sideways. The empty sockets seemed to follow her. She sidestepped some more, until she was out of what should have been the skeleton’s line of sight. It didn’t move.

She blasted it with a magenta bolt, sending bones flying into the darkness. She turned around, closed her eyes, then looked back at where it had been. The bones were still strewn everywhere.

Twilight sighed, backed up, and bumped into something.

“AH!”

She turned around to see a giant stone gargoyle looming over her, a grotesque demon-thing with horns and claws and razor-sharp teeth and tentacles with more mouths and razor-sharp teeth. She fell on her back and screamed at the top of her lungs before realizing it was just a statue.

She stood back up and walked around it. Where had it come from? She tentatively poked it with a hoof. Just… stone. She turned around again, and froze.

The skeleton pony was right behind her, frozen mid-stride, empty sockets glaring at her, mouth open, and for the first time she saw its teeth. They weren’t the vegetarian molars ponies were supposed to have, they were fangs…

Something bit her hooves. She tried to jump out of pure reflex, but couldn’t. The stone floor had turned into mouths, thousands of them, each ringed with little teeth that were clamping down on her legs, tearing out rings of flesh... The statue swung into motion, mouthed tentacles whipping down and coiling around her body, ripping long strips from her chest, spilling her blood out all over the floor to the delight of the thousand clamoring mouths, then blue lights flared in the depths of the skeleton’s sockets and it lurched forward, grabbing her head with its hooves to tear it straight off her neck…

She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. The skeleton closed its jaws on her throat. She fell. There was pain.

Then nothing.

Chapter 1: Rune Wars

Magic. The sensation of it was overwhelming as Shining Armor stepped out of the wire-frame form of the teleportation engine, like a wave of heat from the searing western deserts. The feeling was so powerful that he could have sworn he could almost smell it in the air, mixed in with the scent of ponies, steel, and runestone.

His forelegs wobbled ever so slightly as he stepped down the staircase. The sound of hoof-on-metal was lost in a mechanical orchestra—the percussive clicking of analog computers and clocks, the singing of electricity as it crackled out from hundreds of arc lamps, all welling up from the bass, tremulous thrumming of a ten thousand-ton cylinder of runestone rotating over his head.

Shining Armor paused at the edge of the platform and put his front hooves on the railing, staring up at the glowing cyan cylinder. Spirals of golden energy spun out from the bottom and gently curled upwards into the enormous sheathe that housed the cylinder, attached to the top of the spherical chamber. The cylinder was enormous—easily the size of an apartment building, and several times its weight. The chamber was in the shape of an upside-down cone, with long staircases running between the many concrete levels of the cone, each filled with endless rows of thundering mechanisms. Crawling back and forth like so many ants on each level the were the shapes of the ponies working here, outlined by the bluish-green light emanating from the crystalline cylinder.

“Ah, Captain!” a tinny voice greeted him. Shining Armor turned around and was met by a caramel-colored unicorn in a lab coat, with glasses altogether too large for his face. “My name is Wink, I run the teleportation array. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out a hoof.

Shining Armor took the offered hoof and gave it a firm shake. “The same to you.” His gaze wandered around the enormous chamber. “So this is what it’s like down at the bottom of the Solar Engine!”

Wink chuckled and gestured at the rows of strange machines. “Well, normally we don’t have all this equipment down here.” He wrung his hooves nervously. “But enough about that. I should probably take you to the director now.”

The two of them made their way up along the edge of the chamber. Shining Armor saw a few heads turn as he passed scientists and technicians on the staircases, but the pair mostly went unnoticed. The facility was a hive of activity, and the higher up they went the more the sounds of ticking machines faded away, replaced by the soft roiling of constant conversation.

They finally stopped at a large metal and glass box built into the side of one of the concrete levels. Wink presented his ID badge to an earth pony at the door, who peered at it before letting them through. Stepping through, Shining Armor found himself having to duck slightly to avoid bumping his horn on the frame.

There were at least a dozen ponies crammed inside a room clearly designed to hold half as many. A chaotic storm of researchers fluttered about, waving sheets of paper through the air and carrying delicate equipment. Squeezing through the tight corridors between complex-looking machinery past ponies seated at their consoles was particularly difficult for Shining Armor, who was a large pony by any measure.

At the eye of the storm a familiar purple unicorn was barking out orders, the glare on her glasses obscuring her eyes. “No, it’ll be fine, it’s been fine through all the tests, just make sure the rotational control on the third conduit gyroscope is below three hundred PSI or we could drain out all the engines on the entire eastern wall. And somepony get me that report from Solar Control, I asked for that fifteen minutes ago!”

“Twiley!”

At Shining Armor’s greeting the director’s head snapped around so fast one of the lenses on her multifunction glasses flipped down. Scowling, Twilight Sparkle flipped the lense back up and squeezed past another pony. “Big brother! Oh gosh, you’re actually here!” Finally reaching him, Twilight reared up onto her hind legs and gave her brother a hug.

Shining Armor chuckled and rubbed Twilight’s head with his hoof, frazzling her mane. “Overworking yourself as usual, I see.”

Twilight snorted. “It’s the amount of work everypony else should be doing.” She sighed. “But it’s my machine, and I’m the only pony that knows how to do half the stuff that needs doing.” Twilight then had to press herself against a console to make room for another pony to pass through. “Let’s get out of this room.”

Once they were back out in the main chamber Shining Armor sighed. Watching his sister brush her unruly mane back into shape he couldn’t help but smile at how far she’d come. “So this is all yours, huh?” he asked, gesturing out around the cavernous chamber to the hundreds of ponies working on twice as many machines that governed thousands of thick pipes and cables that criss-crossed the ground and ceiling.

“Only on levels one through three; that’s where the Harmony Device and associated machines are,” Twilight answered, trotting down the staircase, older brother in tow. “The rest of this stuff is all energy management, I didn’t design that.”

Shining Armor laughed quietly. “That’s not really what I was asking.”

Twilight looked back at him, momentarily confused. “Oh!” she exclaimed, the meaning of her brother’s question finally clicking. “Yeah, I’m in charge.” She puffed out her chest proudly. “It’s not just here at the Solar Engine; we’ve got conduits running to all the big factories and even the outer walls.”

“They’ve basically handed you the whole city, haven’t they?”

“All the big rune engines, anyways.” Twilight sighed and rubbed her head. “I’ve had to learn more about rune engines in the past six months than I’ve had to in all my university years put together. Nopony’s ever tried to hook up as many engines together as we have, and making it work has been one big headache for me. For pony’s sake, I’m too young to be having migraines!” When her brother snickered she scowled in annoyance. “Oh, you think it’s funny, do you?”

Shining Armor deflected Twilight’s remark with a swift change of subject. “You know, I had heard Solarium’s power was going to go down temporarily while they did some maintenance. But this is the real reason, isn’t it?” Twilight nodded. “So what are you doing that needs so much magical energy?”

His sister responded with a long, sly smile and gestured down to the very bottom of the chamber. “Well, that’s why you’re here, right? So I can show you.” Her smile disappeared, and her eyes turned inquisitively towards the ceiling. “I’m really surprised they let you come at all, big brother. It’s all been so hush-hush here. Hardly anyone gets to come or go and all our letters are triple-checked before they get sent out. I’ve only ever been outside the facility twice since arriving, and that was only to do quality checks on the outer conduits. And they just let you in, even though you’ve got nothing to do with the project and aren’t in the Solarium military, or even a citizen!” Twilight glanced back at her brother. “The Canterlot and Solarium governments must be getting really close if they’re willing to let you in here.”

Shining Armor tilted his head to the side in thought. “They probably wouldn’t have, if the Lord Magister hadn’t vouched for me personally. I guess being head of security for the most important pony in Canterlot has its perks, eh?”

“I guess it does.” The two of them descended the final flight of stairs. Taking up the entire bottom floor, at the very center of the chamber with the massive runestone cylinder of the Solar Engine suspended directly overhead, was a golden contraption the size of a small house. It was roughly egg-shaped in design and thinned inwards at the middle as though the egg had strapped on a very tight corset. Eight massive black energy conduits, each big enough to drive a train through, hooked into both the upper and lower halves.

“Climb up,” Twilight said, hoisting herself up on a ladder mounted on the side of the machine. Shining Armor followed, clambering onto the inner ring. The two halves of the egg drew inwards into a glass cylinder, from which emanated a bright light.

Twilight gestured her head towards the cylinder. Squinting, Shining Armor approached the cylinder. A sense of dread, of impending doom inexplicably settled in his chest, constricting his breaths. As he got closer, he began to discern a gray rock-like thing. And yet it possessed a distinctly metallic sheen. Whatever it was, it was clearly infused with powerful magic; it was floating above the bottom of the cylinder, the air around it was warped and distorted, and occasionally crackled with black lightning...

Suddenly it clicked, and Shining Armor jumped back from the object as though electrically shocked. He stared at his sister, eyes wide. “Is-is that-is that a Chaos Fragment?” Twilight nodded. “Is it... safe?” he asked, looking back at the cylinder.

“Of course. There’s not a chance we would put it right here in the middle of the city if it wasn’t.”

Eyes wide, Shining Armor looked back at his sister. “What are you doing with it?”

Twilight took a deep breath. “You know the Elements of Discord, right?” Her brother nodded. “Well, I found documents in the Canterlot Archives that seem to indicate that in the pre-Discord era, there used to be something called the ‘Elements of Harmony’. What we—well, I, really—believe is that Discord got ahold of them and corrupted them in a similar way to how he corrupted ponies. And if Discord corrupted them, then we can uncorrupt them.”

Shining Armor stared, having difficulty believing what he was hearing. “I... well... wow! That’s...” His gaze drifted back over to the cylinder. “Can we get away from that thing?”

“Sure.” As they descended the ladder again, Shining Armor felt the constriction in his chest loosen up, though he wasn’t sure if it was relief from getting away from the Chaos Fragment or some actual magical effect that the Fragment emanated. “So, uh...” His mind was swimming with questions—like how his sister had managed to convince the Solarium government that this was possible, or if she had considered the possible side effects of working with a piece of the Elements of Discord—but in the end, he trusted Twilight, and knew better than to think that she hadn’t thought through these kinds of things before investing so deeply into a project like this. So he picked a question that he knew she wouldn’t find annoying to answer. “How does it work?”

At that Twilight actually laughed, and Shining Armor raised his eyebrows in confusion, not expecting this reaction. When the laughter had settled Twilight pushed her glasses back up her snout. Still smiling at Shining Armor’s confusion, she answered, “You see, the whole point of the machine is that I have no idea how it will work.” She turned, gazing up at the golden device. “That’s why we’re funneling every bit of magical energy we can get into this thing.”

“You know that magic has a mind of its own, of course; that’s why we can think things like ‘teleport here’ without having to specify every single particle in our bodies and clothes and anything we might want to carry with us. The magic itself will handle all that stuff for us. It’s an inverse relationship. The less you understand a spell, the more power you need to do it, but the better you understand it, the less power you need. What we’re doing is really, at its heart, nothing more than just getting as much magical energy as we need and telling it ‘Turn this Chaos Fragment back into an Element of Harmony!’ and then hoping it will work.”

Shining Armor nodded along with Twilight’s explanation. “Alright,” he said. “Uh, so, what will they do? The Elements, I mean.”

Twilight shrugged and shook her head sadly. “I have no idea. I was lucky that I was able to find out as much as I did. There was never a lot in the Canterlot Archives that survived after Discord burned them. But well, if the Elements of Discord were capable of killing an almost all-powerful spirit of disharmony and unleashing the worst ecological disaster in the history of ponykind...” Her voice trailed off.

Shining Armor took a deep breath and sighed. “So... when are you going to turn it on?”

An eager smile spread across Twilight’s face. “Tonight.”

Solarium. So-named because it was home to the great Solar Engine, the pinnacle of rune engine technology, the magnum opus of Equestrian engineering, driving the sun and moon across the sky. Also sometimes known as the City of Motion, for the constant movement of the many machines that dotted the city gave it an impression of dynamism unmatched by any other city in Equestria.

Even high above the city, resting on a thin layer of stratocumulus clouds that completely covered the overcast sky, Rainbow Dash could hear the sounds of the machines. Combined with the diffuse glow that scattered through the cloud layer, she could guess that this was their target, even without having seen the city beneath or having been told their destination.

“Perfect cloud cover tonight,” a green pegasus behind her said, causing Rainbow Dash to turn. The green pegasus, who went by the name of Cloud Chaser, walked over from a platoon of fifty or so pegasi, each dressed in the standard grey armor of the Cloudsdale military, but each wearing a unique, brightly-colored sash. “Gotta thank the colts at the Weather Factory for whipping these up for us.”

“And us for pushing all of them all the way out here without the Solarium weatherponies noticing,” a big, burly stallion grunted from way in the back of the cloud they were on.

The green pegasus rolled her eyes. “Oh here we go again, everypony!”

The stallion waved a hoof dismissively. “Nah, not this time. Besides, I think Copper has something she wants to say.”

There was a loud throat-clearing from the front of the crowd, and the platoon reflexively formed up into neat, square rows. Dash’s eyes turned to rest upon a hazel-colored pegasus, a single silver bar on her armor distinguishing her as a commissioned officer. “Alright, mares and stallions. You’ve probably already guessed by now that we’ve flown out all this way to Solarium and that we’re part of a major offensive.” A wave of excited murmuring washed through the crowd, lingering for a moment in the back before dissipating as Copper continued. “If you haven’t figured that out yet, then I don’t know how the buck you managed to get here, since we’re supposed to be an elite platoon of smart ponies.” There were some chuckles in the crowd, and again Copper waited for her soldiers to quiet down.

“But in all seriousness, this is how it’s going to go down. We are part of an array of secret assault forces all across Equestria. Our mission is to serve as the vanguard for a Cloudsdale strike force that is hiding in the cumulus clouds eight miles west of here. In addition, there will be a simultaneous ground assault by the Manehattan army on the western gate. At some point around 3:00 AM this morning, Solarium’s defenses are going to lose power. All the cannons, the shields, the lights, everything. It will be completely vulnerable. When the lights go off in the city, that is our sign to go. Rainbow Dash?” Copper craned her neck up, looking through the crowd for the blue pegasus.

“Yes ma’am!” Rainbow Dash saluted from the back.

“You’re the signal to the main strike force. Get up to about eight thousand feet and do that rainbow thing you do. Make sure it’s the big one. That will blow a hole in the cloud layer we’re standing on. Everypony else, you were each given a sash with the insignias of one of the twenty-six flight groups that are participating in the attack. Fly down to the city, mark targets of opportunity, and return up here to guide the flight groups down. Look for factories, military and government headquarters, postal centers, and transportation hubs.”

“What about the wall defenses, ma’am?” somepony asked.

Copper shook her head. “The Manehattanites are going to handle those. Our job is to cause enough havoc in the city that Solarium can’t get enough troops to the western gate before the Manehattanites get too many of their ponies through. Any other questions? No? Ok, now who wants to take first watch?”

As the formation dissolved back into a crowd, Rainbow Dash found herself quivering uncontrollably. Her breaths came in deep and ragged as anticipation surged through her chest, bursting at the seams. She wanted to explode into the air, to scream in exhilaration; every bone in her body was trembling with an excess of energy, the folded metal blades attached to the front edge of her wings rattling loudly. But she forced that feeling down, forced her breaths to smooth out, her body to calm down.

“This is it,” she whispered to herself. After all the training, all the talk, all the scenarios she had imagined, this was really it. The mix of half-dread, half-excitement that had been sitting in her gut ever since Copper had told them they were about to take a long flight east was now churning like a vicious hurricane. Oh, if Fluttershy were here to see this...

“This is it,” Rainbow Dash repeated again.

“We’re going to start the Third Rune War.”

“Look, sir,” a lightly-mottled brown stallion muttered quietly to a dark gray unicorn sitting next to him. “She’s a Canterlot pony. Are we really, really going to trust a former Canterlot assassin to do a hit on Canterlot? That’s all I’m trying to say here.”

“That’s enough, Ace,” the unicorn replied, his eyes boring holes into the other pony. “What the buck do you want me to do? High Command’s chosen her to lead the operation; orders are orders. End of story. And like I said, it’s not like I can just toss her out after having flown all this way.”

“We could leave her on the plane,” Ace suggested. He opened his mouth to continue, but was interrupted by a light tap on his back. Head snapping around, he was met with the mildly-annoyed face of a unicorn mare.

She was a tall pony, long and slender, her coat a light, almost-white shade of pink, with a purple mane and tail and flowed out in smooth lines from her body then dissolved into numerous puffy curls at their ends. Tilting her head slightly to one side, she explained, “I’m a sword-for-hire, Lieutenant. As long as I can be reasonably certain I’ll get my paycheck, I have no reason to betray you in any way. Just don’t expect me to be taking any hits for you.” And with that, she turned around and gingerly sat back into her seat on the other side of the aircraft.

The gray unicorn turned back to Ace. “You should apologize to her.”

Ace rolled his eyes. “Do I have to?”

“Yes. That’s an order.” The unicorn sank back into his seat.

The brown stallion sighed and turned to the mare. “Miss Crystalline, I am very sorry for doubting your loyalty. Can you please forgive me?”

Crystalline let a bemused smile cross her features. “No hard feelings, Lieutenant. This job’s going to be hard enough without you being ready to stab me in the back the entire time.”

The gray unicorn grinned. “I don’t think it’s going to be as hard as you think it will be, Miss Crystalline.”

“And why is that?” Crystalline leaned back in her seat and calmly described their situation “Eight ponies, versus all of Canterlot. Our only way in or out is this strange flying contraption that I have none too much confidence in the reliability or durability of. Our target one of the most heavily guarded in all of Equestria. What exactly is our advantage?” She smiled. “Surprise?”

The gray unicorn unstrapped himself from his chair and motioned to the front of the vehicle. “Come.”

Curious, Crystalline followed the unicorn up into the cockpit. “Take us up a little,” the gray unicorn said to the pilot. Crystalline felt the floor beneath her hooves tilt gently upwards. The cloudy skies above drew closer and closer, and then a seemingly endless stream of clouds was whipping past the window until suddenly, there was nothing but clear blue sky.

No, that wasn’t right. The sky was filled with tiny gray shapes. Familiar-looking boomerang shapes, much too large to be any bird or pegasus with a distinctly metallic sheen, dotting the sky as far as the eye could see.

There was a sinking feeling in Crystalline’s stomach. The idea that the Manehattanites had created a rune engine-powered machine that could fly through the air indefinitely without need of any kind of balloon had been unsettling enough. It was a contraption that she would have expected to roll out of the gates of Solarium, not Manehattan. To think they had this many...

She snapped towards the gray unicorn, eyes deadly. “You left this out,” she accused, every word dripping with ice.

The unicorn shrugged. “Security issues. Not my decision anyways, it was High Command’s.”

Crystalline stared at the ground and took a deep breath before looking back at the gray unicorn. “I’ll finish this job, but consider this a premature termination of my contract. I’m an assassin, not a soldier. I won’t fight a war for you.”

“You do your job, and you won’t have to.”

For the five hundredth time, Applejack brought the binoculars down from her eyes and put them back in the tiny little rowboat. “This is bullshit. This is the biggest, buffalo-est kind o’ bullshit there ever was.”

Her partner, a cheerful mellow-yellow earth pony, nudged her in the side. “Aw, come on, Captain Applejack! It’s not all that bad! At least nopony’s likely to try and come and kill us here.”

“I did not join the Manehattan Navy so I could sit in a dinky lil’ rowboat and watch the most important darn thing of mah life happen from this dinky lil’ river! And stop callin’ me Captain, Bonnie!”

“But you have your own ship now!” Bonnie waved her hooves in the air and tried to rear up onto her hind legs, nearly tipping their rowboat over. “Woaaaah!”

“For goodness sake, Bonnie, wouldja stop doin’ that? Neither of us are unicorns, so if the letter-sendin’ fire goes out we got no way to lightin’ it again!” Applejack glared at her partner, causing her to cower, ears flattened against her head and mouth turned down in a tight little frown. “Oh, Ah didn’t mean it that way, Bonnie. Don’t be like that. I’m just mighty frustrated, is all.”

Bonnie smiled. “Oh, come on, Applejack.”

Applejack snorted. “I could’ve been on a battleship right now, steamin’ to Baltimare.”

Bonnie made a dismissive raspberry. “Enjoy what you can in life, that’s what my grandma always told me.” She wrapped a foreleg around Applejack’s shoulders. “It’s an exciting time to be in the Navy!”

Twilight Sparkle gave one last long look at her brother. An assuring smile warmed Shining Armor’s face that gave her the boost of confidence she needed. She smiled back, exhaling quickly, and took another deep breath. The smile faded from her face, replaced by an expression of iron determination. On the many platforms beneath her stood rows and rows of scientists and engineers in front of wall after wall of consoles. “Alright,” she declared, her voice ringing out over the ticking machines and crackling electricity, and then muttered quietly to herself, “Moment of truth time, Twilight.” Scanning down her checklist of systems, she started calling out each item on the list; each time the administrator in charge of that system would answer, and each time Twilight would check off that item on her list.

“Beginning status check! Procedures!”

“Procedures green.”

“RECom!”

“RECom green.”

“EEM!”

“EEM green.”

“Tracking!”

“Tracking green.”

“Energy link!”

“Energy link green.”

“Condenser!”

“Condenser green.”

“All systems green, we are go for launch.” The final item was checked. There was nothing else in her way. Her hoof rested on the big red lever at the center of the console. She hesitated. Then swallowed. Then pushed the lever.

And there was light.

In a place very far away and yet infinitely close, separated only by an imperceptible veil of dimension that forever sundered two points in space—permanently bound, and yet, unreachable, even unknowable—a very different Twilight Sparkle was reading. It was the early hours in the morning, too soon yet for the birds to chirp, and even as her mind absorbed page after page of information from the books in her library home, the veil, for the only the second time in its entire existence, since the moment of its creation two thousand years prior, trembled.

The first rays of the sun were falling upon her book before Twilight Sparkle realized that she had stayed up all night studying again. Drowsily she shut Terrific and Terrible: A Treatise on Techno-Animation and slid it up higher on the desk. Reshelving it could wait until after she took a nap.

Climbing into her bed, she gave one last gaze out of the circular bedroom window. The sun was rising over Ponyville, casting its warm glow over the village. The sunrise always reminded Twilight of her mentor; the Princess’s smile was a perfect reflection of the sunrise. Twilight grinned sleepily at the thought.

A piece of paper suddenly blew into Twilight’s face as the wind inexplicably picked up speed; before she even had a chance to pull it off a bolt of lightning knocked it away. Her eyes widened and her ears flattened against her skull as a swirling vortex of glowing cyan energy manifested in the middle of her bedroom.

Spike shouted over the howling wind and roaring thunder. “Twilight? W- what’s happening?”

“I don’t know!” Twilight cried. Books, potted plants, statues—everything that wasn’t nailed down was flying through the air, breaking and smashing into a hailstorm of ever-smaller pieces. Something like this had happened before once before, when Twilight had attempted to contact herself from the future. But this vortex was different; it was brighter, more powerful, more destructive, and it-

The vortex leapt at her, ending that train of thought.

For a single, instantaneous moment, the veil opened, and two points, forever divided in their individual planes, joined.

The soft glow that diffused through the bottom of the clouds faded, and the skies above Solarium went dark. The clouds were lit only by the light of the full moon, like a sea of silvery cotton as far as the eye could see.

Twenty-one years. No one in the governments of any of the myriad city-states that dotted Equestria would ever admit it, but they had all preparing for this moment for the last twenty-one years. Since the last war ended.

The time, at last, had arrived.

Rainbow Dash tensed up like a spring, every limb, every hair, every feather a dynamo of compressed energy, just waiting to be unleashed in a spectacular display of aerial daredevilry. “Let’s rock.”

The order came.

“DASH! GO!”

Rainbow Dash exploded off the cloud, streaking into the sky like a bolt of polychrome lightning, leaving a faint rainbow trail behind her that glimmered in the moonlight. Up, up, up she went, until the forms of her comrades beneath her shrank into tiny dots and were absorbed by the silver of the sea of the clouds.

Alright Dash. You’ve done this a dozen times before. Nothing to get worried about now. It’s not like you’ll be demoted to Private and sent back to boot camp and be the laughingstock of Cloudsdale forever if you mess up. It’s only the fate of the free world, after all- Oh, what am I thinking?

So fierce was the wind in her face that her cheeks started flapping. Her hooves began to meet that now-familiar wall of air, that kept building and building, becoming ever-stronger in its resistance towards her motion, sending off sparks of lightning that taunted Rainbow Dash to break it.

Dash poured in one final burst from her wings, and did.

There was a tremendous noise, and the hours of darkness were momentarily annihilated by an explosion of light.

In a Chrono-Khoraic vortex, no one can hear you scream.

That did not stop Twilight Sparkle from trying anyways.

Light and sound rushed past her head as she tumbled over and over, falling through infinite space, twisting and turning inside a glowing blue tunnel of energy. She saw things—images flashed through her mind, things she didn’t understand, things she couldn’t understand. And there were sounds: voices, machines, electricity, magic, and laughter; heart-shriveling, ear-rending maniacal laughter.

From the depths of the tunnel came streaks of cyan magical energy. They wormed and twisted, as though searching for something. Then they found it.

“N- no! Stay away!”

The streaks reached her, wrapped themselves around her, their suffocating grasp forcing away all other sensation—and then they were inside her, reaching into her body, her soul, forging connection, drawing energy-

And then it was over, as quickly as it began. Twilight’s face met cold, hard floor, and everything went black.

It was on the fifth revolution of the aerial armada circling west of Canterlot, waiting for the moment to strike, that the signal came. Towards the southeast, a rainbow flare of light and color burst onto the horizon.

The floor beneath Crystalline’s feet lurched as the transport pulled through a tight turn, and the triangular bat-winged planes of the Manehattan air force streaked towards Canterlot.

“Holy- that was hotter than a billy goat in a pepper patch!” Applejack shouted. Already the Sonic Rainboom that had just moments ago lit up the sky like an ephemeral sun was fading, the rings of color dissolving back into the inky darkness of the heavens. A massive hole had opened in the clouds overhead. It was as if a god had cast down a bolt of rainbow lightning to reveal the star-studded firmament above.

“Quick! The signal, the signal!” Applejack fumbled for the fire, contained safely in a metal bowl. Her partner was quicker to the draw, pulling a pre-made scroll from Applejack’s saddlebag and throwing it into the fire. The paper disintegrated into sparkling gray smoke that quickly raced off to the west, magic propelling it against the wind.

Her mission complete, Applejack turned her eyes back towards the heavens. In the sky, the last lingering remnants of the Sonic Rainboom were dissipating, as fleeting as the lives of the ponies that were now throwing themselves to the chaos of combat across the globe. Awe and hope and dread filled her heart as she gazed upon that night sky.

For the third time in two centuries, this Equestria would once again be consumed by the fires of the Rune Wars.

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The Comprehensive Canterlot Encyclopedia - Third Edition
Entry: The Rune Wars
Introduction

Scholars estimate that the history of Equestria spans at the very least over two thousand years, since the unification of the three races led to the founding of the first city on Equestrian soil after the Hearth’s Warming Migration. Although records from this era are sparse and by no means complete, those that we do know of indicate that first half of that history, when Equestria was still ruled by the pony races, was filled with continuous peace. Knowing this, it appears remarkable that only the most recent two centuries, after control of Equestria was returned to the pony races, have been so embittered with violence. Thus it seems reasonable to conclude that this is the lingering influence of Discord’s thousand-year reign. Although the Harmony Revolution is not considered by most to be a Rune War, it is included here for the sake of completion.

The Harmony Revolution was the first major war of the modern era. Indeed, many consider it to be the seminal event that marks the beginning of the Post-Discord period of Equestrian history. With the invention of the rune engine by Tick Tock in 32 BCE, resistance to Discord’s reign was finally practical. Although many historians regard Tick Tock as the father of the Revolution, the truth is that the Harmony Revolution was not lead by any single pony; rather, it was the rebellion of numerous small, disparate groups across Equestria, often unaware of each other’s existence but united by common purpose and opportunity, that gave Tick Tock the necessary time to steal the Elements of Discord and assemble the Chaos Engine that lead to Discord’s defeat.

The First Rune War was a direct product of the turmoil caused by the Revolution, with fighting beginning in 56 ACE and continuing until 71 ACE. Although Discord was dead, the effects of his reign upon Equestrian soil were not so easy to eliminate, and these effects were only compounded by the explosion of chaos magic from the Chaos Engine that defeated him. It was perhaps inevitable that the fledgling Equestrian Republic would flounder, as heavy taxation of an already-impoverished population was the only way to fund the government programs designed to repair the environment, enable productive farming, clean drinking water, and stabilize the sun and moon. The First Rune War would define Equestrian politics for decades to come; the splitting of Equestria into numerous individual, self-governing city-states is a direct result of the war.

The Second Rune War, beginning in 122 ACE and ending in 147 ACE, was sparked not by internal stresses as the First Rune War was, but by external influences: most notably, the systematic infiltration of pony societies by Changlings. Seeking to take Equestria for themselves, changlings that had assumed the forms of high-ranking government officials in all the major city-states exploited conflicts between the city-states to spark wars in a bid to weaken them for an eventual Changling invasion. Far from weakening the city-states, however, the Second Rune War strengthened them. By war’s end, due to political and military necessities, the city-states had organized themselves into two main factions: so-called “Free Cities” that governed by republican or parliamentary systems such as Cloudsdale, Manehattan, and Fillydelphia, and so-called “Imperial Cities” where rulers possessed absolute power, such as Canterlot, Solarium, and Baltimare. The war also lead to the enslavement of the Changling Queen by Solarium as well as the disintegration of the gryphon empires.

Following the Second Rune War was a period of uneasy peace, in which we now live. As the city-states rattle their sabres at each other across the mountains and hills of Equestria, it is considered by many that a Third Rune War is inevitable. Worsening tensions and the continued degradation of ecological systems due to inexplicably self-sustaining chaos magic would seem to indicate that this is indeed the case. It is my fervent prayer that the Third Rune War, if and when it does occur, will be the last.

Author's Note

These outro sections at the end of each chapter are mostly for world-building and are not essential to the enjoyment of the fic. Their primary purpose is to explains why things work in a certain way in this universe, and may sometimes be very technical. Feel free to skip them if you want, though this first one is probably worth taking your time to read.

Chapter 5: Love and Loss

“What do I think is the biggest tragedy in war? It’s not the burning buildings or lost lovers or torn families... It’s when good soldiers go down without the rest of us knowing they’re good soldiers. They die, without glory or honor, before they get a chance to prove it, to show everypony who they are... They’re diamonds, that’s what they are. Shards of diamonds in a sea of broken glass.”
- Admiral Aerial Ace (retired)

To call it a mere tank was as inadequate as describing the planet it walked as a mere rock. Relating it as a self-propelled city was closer, but still failed to convey a sense of its immense power and terrible purpose. Even to define it as a moving mountain, a juggernaut of steel and runestone that moved with impunity to crush all that had the laughable courage to lay in its path, was insufficient.

Princess Morningstar was war incarnate.

Moving ominously on eight individually-articulated, independently-powered treads capable of crushing entire buildings, sporting four triple-barreled turrets with cannons that matched the largest of stationary defenses, protected by a massive shining shield array more powerful than those defending most small cities, she rolled inexorably towards the city of her birth.

Light and medium tanks lanced out from her sides, closing like the pincers of a massive claw on the Manehattanite army, ready to clench it in an unyielding grasp. Against the anvil of the newly-activated Solarium shields would the hammer of Princess Morningstar fall.

“Prepare to fire on my order,” its commander declared from her bridge, at the tip of the pyramidal tower rising from the white slab of her main body. Deep within that form, rune cores the size of houses shuddered as their rotation gained speed.

“Fire.”

Twelve solid metal shells the size of chariots simultaneously broke the sound barrier. Morningstar’s cannons echoed off the distant hills as they annihilated the core of the remaining Manehattan army, leaving massive craters in the once-pristine fields as they reshaped the landscape with contemptuous ease.

By the time Princess Morningstar finally reached the gates of Solarium, all that was left was to mop up.

The vault was designed to shelter the top echelons of Canterlot’s government against an extended siege, and its builders had spared no expense in making it as impenetrable as possible: hallways lined with endless spell-locked steel doors, tunnels that could be flooded with water at a moment’s notice, a labyrinthine structure that would confuse and disorient even the most intelligent attacker, hidden passages that could be used to sneak behind and flank enemies when they least expected it.

But all that was meaningless when the attacker had the blueprints in hoof.

Like a praying mantis, Crystalline waited for her prey to come into striking distance. She did not have to wait long. The blast doors to the main chamber slid open, momentarily revealing a glint of light that shone down from the top of the tunnel. Three ponies rushed inside, the sound of their panting breaths echoing off the stone floors and walls of the bunker. The doors slid shut again; one of the ponies found the light switch. Lightstone lamps embedded in the ceiling began to glow softly, but it would be awhile before they could warm up enough to properly illuminate the chamber.

Crystalline’s eyes had already adjusted to the darkness. Those of the other three ponies hadn’t.

Four daggers lanced out in the darkness. The red guard pony had mere seconds to register the deadly projectile piercing through his eye and into his skull before death took him. The light blue guard dodged, the knives shooting past him and embedding themselves in the wall beyond, but that marginally-faster reaction time mattered little when Crystalline teleported behind him and slit his throat.

Blade extended, Crystalline approached the stunned survivor. The old mare was frozen, her eyes still on the first dead bodyguard as Crystalline placed a hoof on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Lord Magister,” her voice flowed, smooth and silky. “I promise you will not be harmed.”

----------

As Fluttershy watched the attacking forces melt away towards the east, dissipating like sand in the wind over the hills beyond Solarium, she couldn’t help but feel a strange pride, even knowing that it was her own side that she was watching retreat in defeat. Unlike most of her compatriots, even her friends in the medical corps, she had never felt the kind of swelling patriotism that drove them to hunger for a chance to fight to right perceived crimes. Nevertheless, she felt guilty for the feeling, knowing that the others would have found it inappropriate.

She glanced at the two purple unicorns. The one with the glasses was overjoyed, jumping and cheering, while her twin watched her with a mixture of satisfaction and embarrassment at the bespectacled pony’s celebration. Fluttershy then looked towards the sky. Her fellow pegasi were escaping through the gap in the top of the shield dome, thousands of multi-colored dots rising into the night sky amidst columns of black smoke that scattered the light of dozens of raging fires and thousands of rune machines.

Twilight—both Twilights—were busy, and Fluttershy had helped turn away several soldiers earlier. Maybe if she asked nicely, they would let her go...?

“Um,” she started, preparing to ask her question, but the sound of her voice was drowned out by a loud boom in the sky. Fluttershy looked up to see a glowing circular rainbow lighting up the darkness, with a rainbow streak screaming down right at them. Fear froze her in place, rendering her unable to move. By the time her voice returned it was already too late.

“RAINBOW, NO!”

The Twilight without the glasses saw it coming; she leapt to the side, out of the way. The other one was not so fortunate. The rooftop trembled and chunks of marble and steel flew through the air as a light blue mare smashed into the building at supersonic velocity.

Her eyes stinging and tearing, Fluttershy tried to find her way out of the multicolored mushroom cloud, but the toll of the dust in her lungs was too great as her entire body violently heaved into great hacking coughs. She fell onto the floor. As the cloud thinned, a pair of hooves suddenly grasped her beneath the shoulders and began pulling her out.

“Come on, let’s get out of here!” Rainbow Dash yelled as she pulled the yellow pegasus out from the dust.

Fluttershy managed to stop coughing long enough to shout a single word in response. “No!”

The pressure beneath her forelegs disappeared, and Fluttershy stopped moving. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” Rainbow Dash asked.

Blinking the remaining dust out of her eyes as her lungs recovered, Fluttershy looked up at the light blue mare. “Why’d you do that?!” she distressedly accused. “You might have killed them!”

Rainbow Dash stared at her, unable to comprehend what her ears were hearing. “They’re the enemy,” she finally said, her voice angry and confused. “That’s the whole point! I’m saving you!”

“They’re ponies!” Fluttershy cried, getting back up on her hooves and into her friend’s face. “They’re good ponies, and they weren’t going to hurt me, and there’s no reason for you to hurt them!”

Rainbow Dash’s jaw dropped, then slowly worked up and down. “I... I...”

The dust had finally settled. On the far side of the building was a massive gaping crater where the wall met the roof. Sitting several feet away was one of the Twilights. As her lungs finished expelling the rest of the dust, the unicorn’s eyes rose, locking onto Rainbow Dash and widening into big, glassy spheres.

The other Twilight was nowhere to be seen.

Fluttershy pulled herself away from the light blue pegasus and flew over the side of the building. Three stories down on the sidewalk was a massive pile of newly-created rubble, chunks of marble and concrete that were stained with the occasional marks of red...

Fluttershy’s heart pounded, tears burning at her eyes. “I’m going to go help her!” she shouted to Rainbow Dash.

Rainbow Dash gritted her teeth, still lost for words. It was a while before she could find her voice again. “FINE!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “You go and do that, you... you... you traitor! I’m going to stay loyal to Cloudsdale!” Furiously she beat her wings, shooting up into the sky on a rainbow trail.

Fluttershy dove. “Twilight?” she cried as she landed on the pile of rubble, pushing and rolling away stone chunks from the top as she desperately searched for Twilight. Her eyes flit around furiously, scanning from bloodstain to bloodstain, her legs and wings panickedly flitting about like the limbs of an insect, looking for a sign—any sign, living or dead, of the unicorn mare.

“Twilight!”

Shining Armor was reaching his limit.

Though his mind remained as sharp as ever, his body was dulled and failing. Cuts ran across his face and ankles, blood dripping down his legs. Where his opponents’ blades could not penetrate his chain armor they had battered the flesh beneath with blows from hammers and hooves. Exhaustion from the non-stop running and fighting of the past several hours had taken its toll. Battling six unicorn Rangers would have been a tall order even for an unfatigued Shining Armor.

Still, he fought on. With strikes raining down upon him from every direction and his limbs slow and sluggish, the most he could do was avoid the deathblows. His magic was depleted, his telekinesis feeble and his shields easily broken. Pain pulsed across every square inch of his body. But he pressed through it, crushing it down into a tiny corner of his consciousness and casting it away. Though his body might fail him, as long as his mind remained awake, he would never give in.

Nor had his opponents escaped unscathed. One was balancing on three legs, the fourth having been neatly broken on the upper bone by a well-timed kick. Another was clutching his side in attempt to stop the bleeding from a deep stab wound; without medical attention, he would likely die. And the most unfortunate of the six Manehattanites was already dead, his chest cut and his neck snapped. That one had tried to sneak past Shining Armor’s line while he was occupied with the other five.

None the others had tried to cross his line after that.

Two blows came in from the left and right, a bloodied blade and the tip of a broken spear. Shining Armor deflected one with his left hoof and took the other on his back, letting his plate armor absorb the blow. A third attack came from behind; he dodged, rolling forward across the concrete floor to let the strike sail over him. But before he was even out of his roll two of his opponents teleported into his path, two blades stabbing towards at separate angles.

There was no dodging both. Shining Armor twisted, allowing one to sink into the flesh of his thigh, while the other one glanced uselessly off the ground. He lashed out with a hoof, slicing across the ankles of his two opponents, causing them to fall to the ground.

The gray unicorn, grabbing the last unbroken spear, rushed at him from behind. Shining Armor saw it coming, but was equally aware that there was no avoiding the hit. Still, he tried, rolling onto his back and raising both hooves to try and catch the spear.

Then out of the blue, the sound of a distant horn-call blasted in from above, the faint but distinct sound echoing off the walls of the confined space. Shining Armor saw the gray unicorn’s eyes widen just a hair, his approach slowing down the tiniest of fractions, the spear deviating only a miniscule amount from its deadly path.

It was enough. Shining Armor pushed his hooves up against the wooden shaft, forcing the tip up and away from his head, passing so close that it could have sliced his tongue apart had he stuck it out.

The gray unicorn could have brought the shaft down onto Shining Armor’s face, he could have tried to finish the fight then and there, but instead he drew back. The other four ponies followed, their eyes lifting from the battered form of the Canterlot commando, Shining Armor no longer the focus of their attention. One by one they left, retreating up the staircase and disappearing like ghosts.

Shining Armor slowly stood back up, staring at the bottom of the steps with his mouth partially agape, his brows furrowed. It didn’t take him long to get over his confusion.

Energy suddenly jolted into his body. His limbs, as though by magic, were no longer slow and unresponsive. He rushed down the tunnel as fast as his legs could carry him, only barely able to arrest his momentum before crashing into the closed blast door at the bottom of the hall. He smashed the button that opened the access levers and flipped the levers so quickly he nearly broke the heads off one of them.

The doors opened, and darkness greeted him. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust.

When they finally did...

He rushed into the middle of the room to the two ponies lying on the ground, shaking each in turn. “Twinblade? Spear Shot?”

He turned his head, unable to look. It wasn’t the gore that disturbed him—he had seen far worse in his career as a soldier. No, it was something deeper, something that clutched with its black tendrils at his psyche, threatening to drag it down into the abyss of despair.

Light streamed through the darkness, and Shining Armor realized that a small, secret back entrance of the vault was open. He gritted his teeth and ran. Racing across the chamber and up the tunnel, he finally burst out from the side of the mountain and into the streets of Canterlot.

A high-pitched revving noise filled the air. At the far end of the street, Shining Armor could see the five Manehattanites he had been locked in deadly combat just moments before boarding one of their flying machines. Shining Armor ran for it, flooding his four legs with every bit of strength he had remaining.

The boarding ramp began to close. He searched for more, more strength, more power he could use to run, anything, everything—

The flying machine rose into the air, encased in a glowing aura of telekinetic magic. The droning of its rune engines rose higher as it accelerated, disappearing into the night sky amongst the hundreds of other retreating aircraft and pegasi.

Shining Armor stared at the point where the flying machine had vanished, as though through sheer force of will he could bring it back.

Finally his limbs gave out and he collapsed onto the street, to be consumed by his failure.

At the heart of Solarium, the Solar Engine blazed into flame.

In the central tower, rune cores the size of apartment buildings ponderously rotated. Magical energy exploded from thin air and surged through the central axle, rising towards the top. In the four secondary towers that surrounded it, smaller engines thrummed to life. Azure lightning crackled and thundered from glowing half-spheres, arcing across the distance to the central tower, where lightstone antennae received their energy and fed it into the main column. Above the highest point a massive ball of energy manifested and swelled, surrounded by enormous obsidian rings that orbited around it in erratic patterns.

The technomagical orchestra rose to a crescendo—the lightning multiplying, the energy sphere expanding, the rings accelerating—until finally, at its highest peak, its ultimate fermata, its energy burst forth into the heavens, a pillar of light exploding out from the glowing sphere into space.

The symphony pulled the sun up over the horizon, and a new day dawned over Equestria.

Shining Armor limped into the Solarium hospital.

As a commando, he had been the first priority of the medical unicorns in Canterlot. His body still ached, especially in the thigh where he had taken that deep stab wound, but it was nothing he could not tolerate.

The same could not be said for the less fortunate ponies lined out in stretchers against the walls of the hospital atrium. Canterlot, it seemed, had gotten off lightly in the attack. There were relatively few casualties there; the free-staters had made no real attempt to cause damage and seize major objectives. Solarium’s casualties had been much more extensive, as evidenced by the overflowing hospital and hastily assembled medical tents outside.

Casualties happened in war though, and Shining Armor was not here to attend to these strangers.

“Excuse me,” he asked, tapping a doctor on the shoulder to draw her attention away from a clipboard, “but I was told I could find Twilight Sparkle here?”

The doctor cast an annoyed snort in his direction. “I’m a little busy at the moment.” She returned to her clipboard.

A small, light brown stallion seemed to notice Shining Armor, however, and approached. Shining Armor noticed the insignia denoting his rank on the stallion’s uniform, and reflexively straightened up.

“Captain Shining Armor, I presume?” the Battle Commander asked, looking up at the commando.

“Yes sir,” Shining Armor replied, making sure not to look down at the unicorn stallion.

“At ease, Captain,” the stallion replied, chuckling softly. “It’s not like we’re in the same military.”

“Sorry, sir,” Shining Armor said, his shoulders slumping. “Old habits.”

The stallion smiled knowingly and turned to the doctor. “Please try to find Miss Sparkle for him, ma’am.”

The doctor, seemingly rather flummoxed by the request, took a few moments before nodding and running off towards the front desk. The stallion turned back to Shining Armor. “Battle Commander Oversight, at your service, Captain.” He held out a hoof.

“Thank you, Commander,” Shining Armor replied as he took the proffered limb.

Oversight nodded tiredly. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Captain of the Royal Guard, commando, claimed to be the best soldier in Equestria, a stallion without equal...” His voice trailed off and his head tilted, clearly waiting for a response.

Shining Armor shook his head, his mane flopping into his eyes. He brushed the stray hair away. “Not good enough, sir.”

Oversight sighed and looked down, an act that somehow seemed to age him by about ten years. “I directed the battle here at Solarium, Captain.” His eyes wandered out to the bloody soldiers in stretchers that lined the walls. “And I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t my job. I was only doing it because there was no one else.” He shook his head. “And I didn’t do a very good job of it. Each and every one of these casualties here, every last Solarium pony that died in this battle, is partly my fault. If I had been better, then they might not have gotten hurt.”

Shining Armor wanted to say something, like “There’s nothing you could have done,” or “You tried your best,” but he was smart enough to realize that there was a point Oversight was trying to make, and respectful enough not to interrupt him.

“And there’s more than that. This entire battle should never have happened. They should never have gotten the jump on us in the first place.” Oversight bit his lower lip. “And that was the fault of high command, who shouldn’t have gotten complacent, and the fault of InOps, who should have put the pieces together and seen it coming.”

Oversight’s gaze returned to Shining Armor’s eyes. “You’re a soldier, Captain. You go out onto the battlefield and risk your life fighting for us. We... we sit back and tell you what to do. And if you fail, then that’s not your fault. That’s our fault; for not giving you the right orders, for making you do something that you couldn’t.”

He sighed again, and Shining Armor noticed for the first time dust-free trails on the stallion’s dirty face that traced downwards along his cheeks. “The morale of the story is, Captain, that you shouldn’t blame yourself. I don’t know what it is that you’re blaming yourself for, but I can tell you that the burden isn’t yours.” He forced a smile, and glanced at the returning doctor as she approached the two stallions. “Take this time and spend it well. A pony of your talents and expertise... well, I doubt you’ll be getting much time with her for a long time.”

“She’s in room 178,” the doctor said. Shining Armor nodded.

Room 178 was clean, although it still smelled of blood and grime, the odor wafting in from the wall. As Shining Armor stepped inside, he saw two ponies, and for a moment, he couldn’t tell who was who. The unicorn mare that had appeared at the Harmony Device—it seemed like so long ago—was standing next to the hospital bed where a perfect duplicate of her lay, eyes closed, body covered in bandages, blanket drawn up to her neck. Shining Armor breathed—they looked so similar. Had they been twins and born of the same womb they could not have looked more identical.

The Twilight standing by the bed looked up at him, and it was then Shining Armor knew that she wasn’t the one. In her eyes he saw recognition, surprise, even a little confusion—but not her, not his Twilight, the one he had known ever since she was just a foal.

Pressing his lips together, Shining Armor approached the bedside. “Will she be ok?” he whispered.

Not-Twilight looked at her unconscious twin. “The doctor said probably.” Like their bodies, their voices were also similar, but this Twilight lacked something in her sound. Perhaps it was the hint of cynicism and weariness from living in such a world as they did. “There was a lot of internal bleeding and a lot of broken bones. But he said she would probably recover fully, thanks to the armor she was wearing and the very good first aid she had.”

Shining Armor nodded. “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t me,” Not-Twilight quickly responded. “There was a medic, her name’s Fluttershy.” Her eyes turned back to the unconscious mare. “I lifted the rocks off with magic, and she did her thing...”

Shining Armor breathed. “Well, if you see Fluttershy, give her my thanks.”

“She was a Cloudsdale pony.” Not-Twilight looked up at Shining Armor. “They put her with the other prisoners of war.” Her eyes seemed to be begging him for something. “Could you... is there anything you could do for her? She... she’s a very gentle pony, and she would never hurt a fly...”

Shining Armor shook his head. “I’ll try, but there’s probably not a lot I can do about it.”

Not-Twilight slumped, closing her eyes and nodding. “I understand.” There was a short pause. “I should probably go.”

“Take care,” Shining Armor called.

“Thanks, big b-” Whatever the purple unicorn was about to say, she seemed to have stopped herself, shaking her head. “Thank you,” she repeated, and closed the door behind her.

Shining Armor turned back to his sister. He wanted to run his hoof through her mane, and briefly he imagined her waking up as he did so, rubbing her head as he had so often done when they were younger. But it was just a fleeting dream, and he knew better than to try.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head. I failed Canterlot, and I failed you too. Slowly he opened his eyes again and stared at the unconscious form of his little sister.

“I promised I would always be there to protect you,” he whispered, his voice so soft it was barely audible even to himself. What a foolish, childlike promise that was, a promise made in youthful naivete, not recognizing that the forces that worked in the world were far beyond the control of any one pony. “I wasn’t. I’m sorry.”

The sun climbed and fell in the sky. Shining Armor did not leave Twilight’s side. As the Solar Engine thundered again and night fell, Shining Armor felt his eyes droop with the setting sun and exhaustion wore on him like a heavy blanket.

Sleep took him, and with sleep came dreams.

Autumn had turned to winter, and the gold and crimson leaves, now crackled and brown, had fallen from the trees. Huddled in the warmth of their living room, Shining Armor watched Twilight read a spellbook by the light of the fireplace. Such an unusual little pony she was. Whereas most fillies would be busy playing make-believe with their friends at a time like this, Twilight simply read. It was as if imaginary worlds weren’t enough for her; as if she needed the challenge and logic of reality to satisfy her developing mind. In earlier years, Shining Armor had often worried about her lack of friends. Although that worry still nagged at him from time to time, he knew now it was simply a part of who his little sister was, and that it was useless to try and change it.

And it wasn’t all bad. After all, it meant that the two of them had a relationship few brothers and sisters so different in age could boast of.

A knock sounded against the door. Their mother, who had been wrapping presents for Hearth’s Warming Eve, trotted out from the kitchen to open it. A blast of cold air blew its way into the living room, penetrating the cozy bubble of warmth and safety that was their home.

At the door were two pegasi, one white and the other light green, dressed in the well-decorated golden armor of the Canterlot military. Their expressions were grim. His mother, taking a deep breath, turned around to face her children.

“Shining Armor, take Twilight up to her room, please, and watch her there.”

Shining Armor knew better than to ask questions. Putting on a playful smile, he grabbed a protesting Twilight by the scruff of her neck and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom.

“But it’s cold up here!” Twilight whined as Shining Armor dropped her on the carpet.

“I’m sure it won’t be long.” Shining Armor walked over to a chest in the corner and took out a small gray doll. Even though it was only a few years old, the fabric was already worn and ragged, the dark gray dye already starting to fade—testament to the young, not-always delicate love its owner gave it. “Why don’t you play with Smarty Pants for a while?”

Twilight pouted cutely, but as the cloth doll floated down into her hooves her face broke out into a light grin. “Alright Smarty Pants, time to go to school...”

Smiling, Shining Armor quietly left the room. As the door closed behind him, the grin vanished, and he silently descended the stairs, taking great care to avoid the particular steps that always creaked.

Hidden behind the wall, he could hear his mother sob; a short, breathy, whimpering noise as she tried to control herself. The guards were murmuring something, and Shining Armor took the chance to peek out from behind the door frame.

The white pegasus had his hoof on his mother’s shoulder as she stood trembling, her body heaving up and down as she took deep breaths, trying desperately to stave off the tears. Her resolve, however, could only last so long, and as her willpower crumbled away she broke out into a quiet wail, sitting down onto the doorstep, her front hooves buried in the snow.

Shining Armor withdrew back behind the wall, and stared at the ground. As his mother’s cries continue to pour out, he found himself unable to stand the sound anymore. He ascended the stairs with much less care than he had descended them.

Twilight looked up as he entered her room, putting Smarty Pants down on the little wooden box meant to be his school desk. Her eyes were wide with curiosity as she inspected her brother, her head tilting as he approached.

Her mouth opened. “Where’s daddy?”

Shining Armor tried to smile. “Why are you asking, Twiley?”

“Those soldiers,” Twilight answered, tilting her head in the direction of the stairs. “They were wearing the same armor as daddy.”

Shining Armor took a deep breath, his smile feeling a little more genuine this time. “That’s very perceptive of you, Twiley. You’re such a smart little filly, aren’t you?” He crouched down and tousled her mane.

“I’m not little!” Twilight squeaked protestingly as she fought off her brother’s hoof. Chuckling, Shining Armor drew back, and Twilight looked up at him, her eyes questioning. “If those soldiers are back, then why isn’t daddy?”

Shining Armor sighed and closed his eyes. There... really isn’t any good way to put this, is there, he thought to himself. Finally he opened his eyes and tried to make his voice as comforting as he could. “Daddy’s not coming home, Twiley.”

Twilight’s little eyebrows furrowed, and her head tilted to one side. “Why not?”

The older unicorn took a deep breath, trying to work up the courage to tell her. “He’s... gone somewhere.”

Twilight’s mouth pouted, her eyebrows furrowing even more, perhaps understanding even at such a young age that her brother’s story didn’t add up. “Where?”

Shining Armor looked down at the ground. “... somewhere very far away.”

The filly unicorn didn’t like to hear that. “But... but...” Her mouth opened wide as she let out a high-pitched wail. “But he promised!” she bawled, her voice broken and filled with sobs. “He p- promised that he’d be h- home for Hearth’s Warming Eve!”

Shining Armor extended his hooves and picked Twilight up. He wrapped her in a close embrace, patting her back as she cried on his shoulder. “I know, I know,” he soothed, rocking her back and forth. “And I’m sure that he’s very sorry too, and that if he could he would... he would...” Shining Armor drew in air, unable to get his next words out. “He would be here with us.”

“I WANT DADDY!”

“I know, I know,” the older brother answered his sister’s scream. “And I’m sorry, but he’s not here... But I’m here, aren’t I? And I promise I’ll always be here for you.”

Twilight wails slowly died down, reduced to mere sniffling. She leaned back in her brother’s forelegs, looking him in the eyes as she rubbed her own with her hooves. “P- promise?”

“Promise.” He hugged her tightly, the crook of her neck resting against his shoulder. They stayed that way for a long time.

“... I miss daddy,” Twilight sniffled.

Shining Armor gently rubbed her head, his face softened with a small, sad smile.

“... I miss him too, Twiley.”

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Canterlot Office of Veteran’s Affairs
Completed Insurance Claims Report

Claimant’s Name: Night Light
Claimant’s Date of Birth: 06/23/156
Claimant’s Address: 188 Mountain Light St., Canterlot
Agent’s Name: Monochrome
Agent ID: 259-53946
Insurance Policy: 305
Claim: Deceased, combat-related injuries.
Claim Description: Received fatal chest injury during border skirmish at DMZ on 12/14/172, died of complications related to surgery 6 hours later at combat hospital.
Action Taken: 10,000 bits paid to family (Wife, child (2)), additional 25,000 to be paid in 5,000 increments over next 5 years. Written condolences and gift basket sent.
Other: Nothing of interest

Chapter 14: Heartbeats

Chapter 14
Heartbeats

“Some believe that outside the universe, there is nothing.
This is what is known as wishful thinking.”
- Starswirl the Bearded

Twilight woke up.

The first thing she felt was cold. She was lying on stone that felt like rough ice. As she opened her eyes and stood up, she looked first at her body. It seemed alright. What just happened? How was she not dead? She gingerly touched her face and chest and shuddered as the memory of the pain, so fresh, so strong, ran through her. It had felt so real…

She stood up. The stone floor was the stone floor, the wall was the wall, the skeleton was back to where it had been, the platforms were there. There was, however, one new addition. There was second skeleton lying on the floor, still soaked in fresh blood, with little bits of flesh clinging to the bones. A unicorn skeleton.

It was looking at her.

She closed her eyes and knew that there would be a third skeleton, then a fourth, a fifth, an army as she would die again and again, trapped in this place to be devoured by her own corpses, forever.

No.

It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t logical. Magic didn’t work that way. Things had to come from somewhere. The dead could not be brought back to life, time could not repeat itself infinitely. Nothing was forever...

Fear gave way to understanding. She sighed like a pony that had just realized they had been on the receiving end of a bad prank. It’s not real.

“This isn’t actually happening,” Twilight said to the darkness. “I’m still probably back in that hallway with the roots.”

She paced around the candle. It wasn’t real, but how was she going to get out of it? The roots might be excreting some kind of hallucinogen, but this was felt far too real and was far too specific to simply be an exotic drug. Magic, then, she thought.

Unfortunately, she didn’t know much about illusion magic, just what she had read in those ancient texts from the pre-Discord era. She knew it wasn’t a mere apparition; the pain, the fear had been far too real. That meant there had to be some magical component in her, a virus inserted into the depths of her mind that allowed the user to take control of her senses. If she could destroy that component…

She sat down and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths, and looked inwards. She had never done anything like this before, but determination made do where experience did not. Twilight followed the images, the fear, the pain through her mind, holding them in crystal clarity as she traced their paths through her soul.

There. A malevolent mass growing through her like a cancer, infesting her unconscious, extending its dark tendrils through her mind. She channeled magic into her horn and directed it downwards through her head and into her body, a cleansing holy flame that incinerated all evil in its path. The tumor retreated and shrunk before finally burning in the psychic inferno.

Then the firestorm reached reality.

Magenta flames roiled out from her body, obliterating the roots that had kept her imprisoned. The conflagration rolled down the hallway in both directions, leaving charred ashes in its wake. Twilight Sparkle stood up and grinned. The dying embers of the roots gave her all the light she needed.

She galloped onwards.

Starswirl and Null walked into a large hexagonal chamber, with each of the six walls holding a doorway that led to yet another hall. Starswirl groaned. “We’ve been here before!” she cried, shaking her head. “We’re lost, aren’t we?”

“No, we are not,” Null said.

“Yes we are,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“No, we are not,” Null repeated, a bit more forcefully. “We are merely trying multiple different paths, and some of them lead to the same place.”

“So in other words, we’re lost.”

“No. We are getting close to the original hall.”

“How can you tell?”

Null pointed to the walls of the chamber. “Look. Are the stones not more ancient?”

Starswirl intensified the light from her horn and squinted. Indeed, the stones in the wall were worn and rounded, unlike the sharp, jagged walls of Erebus. There was no erosion in Tartarus—no wind or water to wear away at the rocks, which was why even the structures that were thousands of years old looked brand new. Either there had been some kind of erosive force here a long time ago, or...

She shivered, and wondered how old these walls really were. How long had they stood in motionless vigil over the prisoners of Tartarus, watching the world beyond pass by, stars wheel overhead, civilizations rise and fall, species evolve and fall into the silence of extinction?

She ran a hoof along the wall, and felt very small.

“Let us go this way,” Null said, pointing down another hallway.

Starswirl pulled back from the stone. “Why do we want to go to the original hall? I thought we were trying to find Twilight.”

“Twilight will not have stayed where she was. Not unless she has grown weary of life.”

“But how do you know she’s moving towards the hall?”

“It is her nature. And yours. You will not turn back.”

Starswirl had to admit the logic of this argument.

The new hallway led into a vast, circular cavern with a lake of black water. There was another doorway on the other shoreline, but it was so far as to be barely visible. Starswirl bent down to examine the water; somehow, despite the blackness, it reflected her face perfectly. She squinted and prepared to dip her hoof in, but Null threw out his hoof in front of her.

“Don’t.”

Null turned around and gently let the tip of his tail fall in the water. There was bubbling and hissing as white smoke rose up from the surface, and when he pulled it back up the tip was gone. “Acid.”

Starswirl glanced down at the hoof she had been prepared to dip in the water. “Um, thanks.”

She looked at the far shore. “I could try teleporting across, but that’s really far. I’m not sure I can teleport the both of us. Maybe I could teleport myself, and then you can fly across?”

Null shook his head. “No. It would be unwise to separate. I shall carry you.” He turned away from her and lowered his back.

Starswirl stared. She had never ridden a pegasus like that before. “Can’t you… hold me, or something?”

“I need my hooves to be free if we are attacked.”

“Um.” Starswirl felt a drop of sweat drip down the back of her head. “Is that likely?”

“I do not know. But if it is possible, then we must prepare. If we are attacked, you must teleport down to the shore as quickly as you can.”

She nodded, then gingerly climbed onto the pegasus’s back and wrapped her front hooves around his chest. Pressing this close against an unfamiliar stallion was… awkward.

Then he took off, and she promptly forgot about the awkwardness.

She had been carried by a pegasus once before, when a mare had caught her after her near-death experience from the tornado at the Wonderbolts Academy. That had been a gentle ride. Null was anything but gentle; he flew like he was trying to murder the air, and Starswirl could barely keep herself from falling.

Then things began detaching from the ceiling, and suddenly murdering the air seemed like a really good idea.

“Go!” Null shouted.

Starswirl immediately teleported down to far shore. She turned around and saw Null being attacked by swarms of dark shapes. She lowered her head and prepared to aim a spell, but his distant shouts echoed forth.

“Run! Get out of here!”

She hesitated. Then some of the dark shapes began flapping towards her.

Null breathed a sigh of relief as he watched her vanish into the hall, then turned his attention to his attackers. He swooped past one and dodged another, then brought his hoof up to the bell around his neck.

A single note rang out, high and clear.

Twilight Sparkle ran through the hall and into a large, square chamber. She shone the light from her horn around, scanning the room for any dangers. Seeing nothing, she closed in on the wall and ran her hoof across it. The stone was old, worn. I’m getting closer, she thought.

Thump-thump.

She froze. The heartbeat was back.

Thump-thump.

And it was getting closer. Her eyes were slowly drawn towards an open doorway. The sound was coming from down that hall.

Thump-thump.

She looked around. The only other way out of the room was back the way she had come. She clenched her jaw. No more running. She had defeated the roots and the nightmares, and she could beat this thing.

Thump-thump.

She pressed up against the wall, silently edging towards the doorway, horn charged and ready to blast the monster the moment it came around.

Thump-thump.

THUMP-THUMP.

Now! She leapt out into the doorway and fired a massive magical blast that tore through the air and hit the wall opposite, leaving a scorch mark.

The hall was completely empty. She looked left, right, then up and down. Nothing but air. And then, behind her—

Thump-thump.

She bolted down the hallway, not even bothering to turn around, galloping as fast as her legs could take her, following the path’s twists and turns wherever it took her, looking for someplace, anyplace to hide.

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump…

The heartbeats gently fell away, but she didn’t stop running. Panic gave her speed she would not have imagined possible. She began to tire, her legs crying out beneath her, but she ignored them, fighting through the exhaustion, knowing that if she stopped there would be no escape…

A door! She skid past a large metal gate decorated with ornate silver curls, then ran back towards it. She tried pressing against the portal, but it refused to open.

“No! Don’t be locked, please don’t be locked!” She tried forcing it open again, and this time it gave way, the gilded double doors swinging back on their hinges, revealing…

Her eyes widened. Her ears pressed against her skull. Her pupils shrank into tiny dots as she gazed through the door and saw… nothing.

Just… nothing.

She screamed, and ran away. The doors slammed shut behind her. She ran even faster than when the heartbeats had been chasing her, ran faster than should have been possible, than was possible, not even noticing the pain in her muscles, the way her heart thudded in her chest so hard that it hurt, exhaustion making her steps strange and uneven, until she tripped over her own hooves and fell, rolling forward several times before finally coming to a stop.

And then she cried, pressing her hooves into her eyes. She wanted to tear them out, to unsee it, and the only reason she didn’t was because she knew it wouldn’t help, that she would never forget, that there was nothing to forget, not light, not darkness, not color or shade, not shape or form, not space or time, not concept or thought or emotion or life or death, and it hurt, it hurt just to think about it, to remember, the memory was burning a hole in her mind, searing her soul…

“H- help,” her voice sobbed, barely coming through between the short, panicked breaths. “Help.”

Hoofsteps echoed down the hall in answer. Then, a voice. “Twilight?”

Twilight opened her eyes and looked up. There, standing at the far end of the hall, was Starswirl.

She had never been so happy to see anyone in her life.

“Starswirl!” she cried. “Thank goodness! Starswirl!” She rushed towards her with all the desperate strength she had left, the tears streaming from her eyes now tears of joy, running to her twin ready to embrace…

Pain flared across her cheek. She was knocked aside, sprawling on the ground. Slowly, she looked up in shock, rubbing the spot on her cheek where Starswirl had punched her.

Eyes like hers stared down in cold contempt. “The name’s Twilight Sparkle, you lavender WHORE!”

She kicked Twilight in the stomach. “You think you can threaten to keep me away from my friends? You dirty, useless slut, you think I need your help? I’m smarter, more talented, more clever, I’m better than you in every conceivable way. You’re just a nerd with no talent, no father, and no friends.” She stomped down on Twilight’s chest. Twilight felt two of her ribs crack. She screamed. “You’re a disgrace to my name, nothing more than a worthless, stupid imposter. I’m here to replace you. Nopony’s even going to notice when you die because they’ll be too busy marveling at me, not that they’d miss you anyways, you useless pile of crap. I’m the only Twilight Sparkle.” She punched her again.

Twilight caught it with her hoof.

Eyes like hers stared down in cold contempt, and they were met by identical eyes filled with white-hot fury.

“SHUT UP!”

Magenta light surged, blasting Starswirl down the hall. The blue unicorn twirled, landing on all fours.

Twilight stood up. Her chest heaved, sparking in pain with every breath, but she didn’t care. “You think I’m stupid? She would never say that. I would never say that. You’re not real, you’re just a fake, and—” she sucked in breath through her teeth “—I’m going to kill you.”

A deliciously evil smile spread across the fake Starswirl’s features. “You’ll have to catch me first.” She turned and ran down the hall, her laughter echoing off the walls.

Twilight grinned, a small, wicked upturn of the corners her mouth. At last, she had a target for her anger. She was going to enjoy this.

Starswirl ran down the halls, pursued by three of the dark shapes. They were vaguely bat-like in appearance, with wings like collections of spider-legs and a multitude of eyes that glittered silver. And they were fast, faster than her despite being large enough to fill the entire hallway, the flapping of their wing-legs creating a droning buzz that echoed in the deeps.

Without breaking stride, Starswirl turned her head and blasted magenta beams over her shoulder. A loud shriek told her she had hit one, and the droning buzz grew angrier, closer. It was no good. The blasts never seemed to do much more than annoy them, and no matter how many turns she made within the labyrinthine tunnels, she couldn’t throw them off.

Then suddenly, salvation came in the form of a doorway too small for the creatures to get through. She teleported through it and turned around. The monsters stopped by the door, scrabbling to get through, and she blasted one in what she thought was its face. It screamed, a multi-tonal screech bordering on the inaudibly high, then tried to tuck in its leg-wings to scramble through. Then it froze, its half-dozen eyes seeming to blink, staring at or perhaps past her. It gave a shrill, frightened screech and flew away. The other two followed.

Starswirl breathed a sigh of relief, turned around, and jumped.

Null put his sword back in its scabbard. “My apologies for frightening you,” he said, relaxing from his battle stance.

Starswirl tilted to the side, peering around him. There was a side doorway that he could have come through, but…

“What happened?”

Null frowned. “I killed one, and the rest flew.”

Starswirl tilted her head. “That’s… odd.”

“Yes. I know not what to think of it. I had expected more fight within them. Are you unharmed?”

Starswirl furrowed her eyebrows, but nodded. “Yes. Um, let’s keep going.”

She was just about to start running when another Null tumbled out of the side doorway, panting heavily and covered in silver blood. “Starswirl!” the he shouted, “Get away from him! It’s an imposter!”

She froze mid-stride, staring at the second pegasus, then the first, then the second again. She opened her mouth. “Wh…?”

The first Null merely narrowed his eyes. “I see. So that is why they fell back so easily.”

“Do not believe anything that he says,” the second Null warned. “Please, you must trust me.”

The first Null focused his eyes on her without turning his head. “Well, Starswirl, whom shall you choose?”

Starswirl backed away from both of them, eyes flickering between the two pegasi. Sweat dripped down her forehead “Um… Normally in books when this happens the characters would ask each other something only the real one would know…” She wracked her brain, but could think of nothing. She had known the pegasus for all of one day, what secrets between the two of them could there possibly be?

“I know you were fighting with Twilight last night,” the second Null said, the one covered in silver blood. “I heard the shouting when I was carrying water.”

The first Null stiffened. Starswirl backed away from him. He paid no attention to her, and instead walked towards his twin, a grim expression on his face. “I wonder. You can imitate my form, my personality, my memories. Can you also mimic my power?”

The bell on his neck rang. Starswirl didn’t understand what happened next—all she knew that red lines came out of nowhere and surrounded the first Null, then he was just a crimson blur, and a second later he was standing there, back to normal, and the other pegasus was lying on the ground in several large pieces.

“It appears not,” he finished.

He cautiously prodded the corpse, which crumbled into dust and blew away. He then turned to Starswirl. “It is safe now.”

Starswirl stared. “What… what just happened?”

“I destroyed my imposter. Cutting the knot, as it were. It would appear those monsters had been working with this fake, trying to fool you into going with him, perhaps.”

She blinked and shook her head. “So… you’re real?”

Null nodded.

“Then… what was that… that, thing you did?” She waved her hooves around in the air, gesticulating wildly.

“That was my power. The power of this.” He gestured to his bell.

Starswirl narrowed her eyes and snorted. “Ok, you have some serious explaining to do, mister.”

Null sighed. The expression on his face grew weary, instantly gaining several decades of age. His entire body seemed to sag and shrink, until one could hardly imagine had just cut a pony into a dozen pieces in the space of a single second. “This bell,” he said, his voice as slow and tired as his appearance, “belonged to Domitian. With it, I can summon his power to aid me in battle.”

Starswirl took a step back. She had had bad experiences with evil magical artifacts worn around the neck before. “Ok… so how did you get it?”

There was a long pause. “I sold my soul.” The way he said it, he might have been admitting to eating the cookies from a jar.

The unicorn blinked. “Literally, or figuratively?”

“Literally. When I am dead, I will join those spirits you saw in Domitian’s prison to serve him for eternity.”

Starswirl closed her eyes and rubbed her head. “Why?”

“It was the only way.” Null’s eyes grew distant, lost in memories. “That day, years ago… I was given a choice. I could watch my brother and my best friend die, and I along with them, or I could take his cursed bargain and gain the power to save us. And though I can never again feel the love that drove me to that decision, I shall never regret it.”

Starswirl opened her mouth. “Huh. Ok.” It wasn’t exactly the most profound of replies, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. It was the kind of revelation that ought to have been made in the most dramatic of settings, like on a cliff in a thunderstorm with figures silhouetted by lightning, and the words being shouted over the roar of thunder while tears streamed from their eyes to be lost amidst the rain. Null was so matter-of-fact about it he might have been confessing to having not followed a diet. Maybe it was a side effect of having no soul.

“I do believe Twilight still needs our help,” he said quietly.

“Yes…” Starswirl trotted towards him and took a deep breath. “You are the real Null, right?”

“Yes.” There was nothing but open honesty in his eyes.

“Ok then.” The two ran on down the maze-like halls, Null leading the way, and Starswirl still casting furtive glances at the black pegasus.

The fake Starswirl’s laughter rebounded off the tunnels, echoing from wall to wall, building off of each other until the sound came from every direction, a maddening, unreal torture chamber of cackles that shook the psyche until it no longer recognized reality from mere perception.

Twilight Sparkle was too angry to give a damn. “Show yourself!” she shouted at her unseen enemy, adding her own voice to the echoing laughter. She twisted and turned in the dark corridors, unable to find the source of her frustration.

“Oh come now, little pony,” the voice—her voice—said, laughing. “Why so angry? Is it that hard for you to find me? I don’t think the other Twilight Sparkle would have so much trouble...”

“Shut up!” she shouted, only to be met by more laughter, trailing off into the distance. Twilight scrunched up her eyes, trying to shut out all distraction. Her ears flicked and turned, following the sound.

On the left, she thought, and raced down that path. The laughter continued, and twice more she had to stop to listen for where it was coming from. The voice’s last words kept haunting her. What would she do…? Was there some magic in her repertoire of over two hundred spells that could find the voice? Or maybe was it just something simple, obvious, that she was missing and that the other Twilight would have noticed?

Her ears picked up hoofbeats and hard breathing on her right. She ran down that path, but before rounding the corner, she pressed herself against the wall and waited. The hoofbeats were coming closer, then they were almost around the corner, and then—

She saw Starswirl emerge. There was just the briefest moment of surprise. “Twilight?”

Twilight fired a blast from her horn. Starswirl twisted underneath her, just barely avoiding the beam as it left a scorch mark on the ground. She thrust out with her hooves and pushed Twilight off.

“Twilight, it’s me!”

“Nice try!” Twilight snarled, and fired another blast. As she let loose with the beam, however, something shoved her aside, causing her shot to hit the ceiling.

“Twilight, whatever it is you are doing, stop!”

Twilight blinked, staring at the black pegasus standing above her. “Null?”

“Yes. Why are you attacking us?”

“I- I…” She looked at Starswirl. The unicorn was confused and frightened. She swallowed. “I’m sorry, I thought you were—”

Pain shot through her head as Null kicked her in the face. Starswirl’s expression split into another wicked smile, and her insane cackles echoed once more through the halls. “You are so stupid!” she laughed, and the two ponies ran away again.

Twilight lay there on the ground, unmoving. Then, she began to tremble, every fiber of her being quaking against their restraints, convulsing so hard she had trouble standing back up.

She screamed, a thundering, guttural shriek that reverberated off the walls. There was no language behind it—it was a sound from before language, nothing more than pure, primordial fury in sonic form. The inferno of her rage melted down the chains of reason as her mind tore free of all thoughts but one:

Finding that thing that looked like Starswirl and tearing off its head.

“Wait,” Null said, suddenly coming to a stop.

“Hmm?” Starswirl asked.

They were in a great hall, much larger than any of the others they had been in. The floors were decorated with what looked like floral patterns, if flowers were entirely made of straight lines and sharp edges, and the vaulted ceiling rose up like that of an ancient temple.

Null inspected the wall. There were a series of large, rectangular slabs sticking out of it, looking almost like giant stone buttons. He pressed his hoof against one, but it didn’t budge. He tried the one next to it. Still nothing.

“What are you doing?” Starswirl asked.

Null pointed to a crack between two stones. “Turn off your light.”

Starswirl stopped the light spell. The room immediately became pitch-black… except it didn’t. There was a soft yellow light emanating from the crack between stones, forming a rectangular shape just wide and tall enough for a pony to walk through.

“Some kind of secret passage?” Starswirl asked.

“Perhaps.” Null frowned and continued down the wall, pressing the buttons.

Starswirl cast her light spell again and walked up to the wall, tapping her hoof against it. It sounded solid. She walked along the wall, continuing to tap at regular intervals, until she found one stone that sounded higher-pitched than the rest.

“Aha!” She pressed the button above it. It sank into the wall, and then…

Nothing happened.

Her ears pressed against her head. “Aw…”

“Oh.” Null’s voice echoed from far down the hall. “Did you do something?”

“I pressed a button, but it didn’t seem to do anything.”

“It did something over here, I—”

There was the sound of grinding stone. The section of wall between the cracks pulled back then slid aside, letting warm whitish-yellow light shine through.

The two ponies exchanged glances. Null stepped through, then Starswirl followed.

“Woah…”

They were in a huge, rectangular chamber, the ceiling above them rising so high it faded invisibly into the darkness. The walls extended out and forwards, seeming to stretch on into infinity. And on the floor were massive rectangular slabs of varying types of stone and marble, each of different sizes and uniquely decorated with intricate hieroglyphs. The whitish-yellow light was coming from a straight horizontal crack in each slab that ran all the way around near the top.

Null was the first to recognize them.

“Tombs. They are tombs.”

“There must be hundreds! Some of these are huge!”

She walked up to the closest one. Each tomb was covered in inscriptions, most faded and unreadable, but on the ends, near the top, were always two lines written in modern Equestrian.

Darion the Deathless
Increasingly Inaccurate

Albion Alastacar, Lord of the Third Dragonflight
Chew Before Swallowing

Moonrise Gloom, Creator of the Philosopher's Stone
You Have Failed

Princess Aestiva
Yes, Optimism Has Killed Somepony

Demise, Spirit of Death
Irony

They all seemed to be significant names, followed by a snide epitaph. Some of the names Starswirl recognized from history or mythology. Most she didn’t. There were a lot of princesses, but nothing appeared to be in any particular order, chronological or otherwise. The tombs seemed to all be of varying ages and states of decay. Some, especially the ones belonging to dragons, were the size of buildings.

It took a long time, but eventually the pattern revealed itself to her.

“They’re all immortals,” she whispered. The words echoed several times in the dark.

“What did you say?” Null asked from the other side of the tomb.

“They’re all immortals,” Starswirl said again, louder this time. “Every tomb. They all belonged to somepon— sorry, someone that was immortal. That could have lived forever if they hadn’t been killed.”

And as for the sardonic epitaphs… evidently whoever made these enjoyed laughing at their fates. A shiver ran down her spine. Some of the names on these tombs had been immensely powerful…

“Starswirl, I believe I have found something of note.”

She walked over and shone her light on the tomb Null was standing by.

Discord, Spirit of Chaos
Hell Hath No Fury Like A Pony Cornered

She put her hoof on the lid. The temptation to push it off and see if there was anything inside was great, but a little voice in her head told her that would be a terrible idea. She walked all the way around the tomb, looking at the inscriptions and hieroglyphs, but couldn’t make any sense of them. True to form, the tomb’s decorations were very haphazard and random. Then, when she was on the other side of the tomb, she turned around and froze.

Princess Cadance
Love Makes Fools of Mice and Mares

A feeling like cold ice rushed over her. “No…” The word was a quiet moan. “No…”

Null looked up in alarm. “What is wrong?”

Starswirl didn’t hear him. She took off, running through the rows of tombs, eyes searching wildly from epitaph to epitaph.

Thump-thump.

Null heard the heartbeat, but Starswirl didn’t seem to. “Starswirl?” he asked, chasing her through the rows.

She ignored him entirely, searching with abandon through the graves, rushing from slab to slab, reading each inscription then immediately moving on to the next.

Thump-thump.

Then, she stopped. Her eyes widened and her ears pressed against her skull. She collapsed onto the ground in front of the tomb, whimpering, one hoof pressed against the epitaph.

“No… it can’t be… it can’t…”

Princess Celestia
Forever Sets the Sun

Thump-thump.

Null had no idea what was happening, no idea why the unicorn was so distraught over this particular tomb. A foreboding feeling crept up his spine. “Starswirl. We should go.”

There was a short pause in which her heavy breaths were the only sound filling the graveyard. “No...” she finally moaned, “she couldn’t have… not her…”

Thump-thump.

The foreboding feeling was crawling up his neck now. “Starswirl. We need to go. Now.”

Starswirl shook her head, eyes distant as though in a trance. “Princess…”

“Starswirl! Twilight still needs us!”

The name snapped Starswirl from her reverie. She looked at him, as though for the first time, then looked down. “Yes. Of course, yes. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Null said, but the hairs on the back of his neck were beginning to stand up. “Let’s move. Now.”

They had just taken a single step when a tremendous, rage-filled scream issued forth from the distance. The two ponies exchanged glances. “Was that…?” Null asked.

Starswirl nodded. “That sounded like Twilight.”

They took off, racing through the rows of tombs, shot through the doorway then down the hall in the direction the scream had come from. Twilight exploded from around the corner, surrounded by crackling purple lightning. Starswirl’s face momentarily lit up in delight, then confusion, then terror.

Twilight’s face was murderous. “YOU!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, then leveled her horn at the other unicorn. The spell went off like a cannon as a gigantic magenta beam erupted from the tip. Starswirl leapt to the side as the column of light roared through the space she had just occupied, singeing her tail and blowing an enormous crater in the opposite wall.

There was no time to breath a sigh of relief, however, for a second later Twilight was on top of her, punching and kicking and foaming with rage. It was everything Starswirl could do to avoid getting hit. “Twilight! What are you doing? It’s me!”

“LIKE I’M GOING TO FALL FOR THAT AGAIN!” Twilight fired another blast at point-blank, barely missing Starswirl’s head.

At this point Null burst into action, slamming into the crazed Twilight and knocking her to the ground. He pulled out his sword and stabbed downwards at her chest—

“Wait!” Starswirl cried.

The moment’s hesitation this caused was enough for Twilight to pick him up with magic and slam him against the wall. She charged Starswirl again.

“Twilight! Stop! Please! Something’s wrong with you!”

“ME? There’s something wrong with ME?!”

It took Null a while to recover from having his head bashed against the wall with enough force to leave cracks in the stone. When he did, he saw the two unicorns locked in hoof-to-hoof combat, Starswirl desperately trying to keep Twilight’s magic surges contained. She was on top of her, wrestling the purple unicorn to the ground while Twilight had been reduced to trying to bite her leg.

“Starswirl! It’s another fake! Kill it!”

“I’m the fake?!” Twilight screamed.

“No!” Starswirl shouted. “She’s real, Null! I can te—AH!”

Twilight had used the distraction to knee Starswirl in the stomach, knocking her off her back and rolling around to sit on her chest. She immediately brought her hooves down on the other unicorn’s throat, trying to throttle her.

Null clenched his jaw. There was no time to think. Only decide. He leapt through the air, flying through the twenty meters between them in an instant, pulling Twilight off Starswirl and pinning her against the floor in a headlock, fighting through the pain as uncontrolled magical lightning surged through him.

“Let! Me! Go!” Twilight tried to blast him, but Null shoved her head aside so the beam missed and hit the wall.

“Twilight! Please! Calm down!” Starswirl cried.

For the first time in his life, Null was at a complete loss. One of the ponies he was supposed to be guarding was trying to murder the other, and the obvious explanation—that one was an imposter—was unacceptable to the very pony whose life he was trying to save.

Twilight managed to twist her way around in his grip so she was facing him. “Let go of me!” she bellowed right into his face.

He stared into those large, rage-filled eyes that had just been but half a day ago overflowing with tears, the face that had seemed so broken, so aggrieved, that had instilled so much pity in a heart sold long ago to evil and death but now only knew fury and hate. He didn’t know what to do or think.

So he did the unthinkable.

He kissed her.

Sheer bewilderment kept Twilight from resisting for all of two seconds. Then she kicked him in the chest so hard he flew up into the air. She staggered up, spitting and wiping her mouth with her hoof.

Starswirl ran up to her. “Twilight?”

Twilight stared at her. The inferno behind her eyes slowly faded away. “S- Starswirl?”

Starswirl nodded, smiling.

Twilight blinked and looked around as though having just woken up from a dream. “Are… are you real?”

Starswirl slowly reached out to her. Twilight closed her eyes, cringing as the hoof approached her face. Then Starswirl stroked her cheek, and she collapsed into the blue unicorn’s hooves.

One by one, tears began to drip down her face. “Starswirl! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“It’s ok, it’s all going to be ok,” Starswirl murmured, cradling the mare’s head, rocking back in forth. Twilight looked up at her in confusion and fear, as though still afraid she was going to hit her again.

“I’m sorry… I don’t… I don’t know anything anymore…”

Null slowly stood back up, watching. Starswirl was stroking Twilight’s head. “It’s alright, I understand. You’ve been through a lot.”

“You… you aren’t going to hit me?”

Starswirl shook her head. Twilight broke down completely, sobbing. “S- sorry, I- I thought… s- so many times…” She was still looking at her in fear, like a foal that had only ever known abuse being shown kindness for the first time.

Starswirl looked up at Null, who only shook his head. He had seen ponies descend into the darkness and come out catatonic, raving in gibberish and utterly unresponsive to anything, but nothing quite like this before.

“I’m s- sorry for everything I s- said about you,” Twilight moaned softly into the other unicorn’s chest. “I was w- wrong… You didn’t deserve those words... I’m despicable… I’m so sorry…”

“No, no, you were right,” Starswirl murmured softly. “I shouldn’t judge you so harshly. After all, I wouldn’t be any different if I’d been through what you have.”

They sat there in silence for a long time, Twilight quietly sniffling into Starswirl’s coat. Then, in an almost dream-like trance, the blue unicorn began to sing.

“Hush now, quiet now, it’s time to lay your sleepy head.
Hush now, quiet now, it’s time to go to bed.
Hush now, quiet now, close your sleepy little eyes.
Hush now, quiet now, my how time does fly.”

The notes faded into the distance, reverberating off the walls to give it an almost choir-like tone. The ponies stared into the air, then Starswirl looked down embarrassedly.

“... I forgot the rest.”

Twilight looked up at her and wiped away the last of her tears. “That was lovely. Where did you learn that?”

“My mom used to sing it to me when I was a filly.”

Twilight drew away from Starswirl’s hooves and stood up. “I’ve never heard anything like it.”

The two stared at each other for a long time. Then Twilight seemed to notice Null again for the first time. She turned towards him, and something sparked behind eyes.

“And you!”

Null stood there trying to look as innocent as possible as Twilight stormed up to him.

“You! What was that?! In Canterlot we’d consider that sexual assault!”

“... My apologies.”

“What made you think that was ok?!” The voice was angry, but it was a light, airy anger, nothing like the guttural rage that had filled it before. She wiped her mouth again. “You’re lucky you just saved my life, or else I would…” Her voice trailed off. She turned around and muttered to herself, “and it was my first kiss too.”

“At least it was with a stallion,” Starswirl offered. Twilight glared at her, and she grinned sheepishly.

And with that, everything was back to normal.

“Perhaps we should turn back,” Null suggested, a little nervously.

“No,” Twilight and Starswirl said simultaneously, then looked at each other oddly.

“We’ve come too far to turn back,” Twilight said.

“I agree,” Starswirl added. “And besides, we’re together now. Nothing can hurt us when we’re together.”

Thump-thump.

“... I would not be so certain,” Null said as two unicorns looked around in alarm. He turned around. “Come, let’s go.”

Behind them, the heartbeats faded away. And as they ran on through the dark tunnels of Erebus, hoofsteps, too many to be mere echoes, followed in their wake…

“This has got to be it,” Starswirl said.

Twilight looked up at the gigantic doorway built in the style of Tartarus’s outer hall. It was far more ornately-decorated than anything they had yet seen in Erebus and big enough for a whole family of dragons. “How can you tell?” she asked sarcastically.

“It is in the proper location,” Null answered, completely missing the sarcasm. “Across the bridge of the void and past the field of razor thorns.”

“Oh yes, I completely forgot about those.”

“Speaking of the razor thorns, thanks for saving me back there,” Starswirl said.

“Don’t mention it.” Twilight glanced at the other unicorn. “Shame about your tail.”

Starswirl glanced at the shredded remains of her tail and brushed her tattered mane out of her face. “Oh, it’s no big deal. Though I think Rarity would have a panic attack if she could see me right now.”

Twilight frowned. “That’s the one that’s obsessed about fashion, right?”

“Yep.”

“Ah, I see.”

They walked up the stairs across the doorway. The temple itself was larger even than the Hall of the Immortals, filled with massive columns that rose up to support a ceiling so high it could have been a gray-colored sky. The columns had once been lavishly engraved, but time had eroded the carvings into a uniform roughness. The floor had better withstood the test of time, and was so highly polished it formed a near-perfect mirror, giving the ponies the impression they were walking in midair, with the gargantuan columns stretching equally above and below them. And unlike every room they had seen in Tartarus thus far, every inch of the wall was covered in murals of alien scenes from untold eons ago. The colors had long since faded away, leaving just the slightest hint of pigment, but the forms remained.

On the other side of the room were three titanic archways that opened up into the main Tartarian cavern. Erebrus stretched its way around the cave walls while the white tree loomed above the Pit of Tartarus, its light filtering into the ancient temple, illuminating the murals, and the darkness of the Pit itself crawled up the sides, biding, always biding.

“Are you kidding me?” Twilight cried. “We could have just flown here!”

Starswirl shook her head. “I don’t think so. The inscriptions in Domitian’s chamber said the hall was protected. If you try to fly through that way you end up in some twisted space-time and get lost forever.”

“Oh.” Twilight narrowed her eyes. “I guess that makes me feel a little better.”

“Let’s take a look at these murals,” Starswirl suggested.

Null stood quietly on watch as the two unicorns inspected the walls of the chamber. He had an uneasy feeling. The shadows of the pillars were dark and numerous, and could be hiding any number of enemies…

“What are these creatures?” Twilight asked.

Starswirl shook her head. “I don’t know. They don’t look like anything I’ve ever read about.”

Twilight shook her head, frustrated at the atrophic state of the murals. The strange aliens were in every single painting. The decay made it impossible to make out much detail—Twilight couldn’t even tell how many legs they had, or which end was the head—but they clearly weren’t ponies or dragons or any other species known to ponykind. Given their omnipresence, however, they must have been important. “Maybe they’re the ones that made this place.”

“Could be.”

Twilight turned around to look at the doorway they had come in and jumped a little. Over the portal was a painting so huge that she didn’t know how they had missed it—or perhaps it was the very hugeness that had made it hidden, for they might have mistaken it for a mere pattern in the stone. Even in its advanced state of deterioration she could tell it was hideous, an image of some enormous monster with legs like hundreds of viper coils, manifold arms that ended in horrible claws like impalers, and a hundred dragon heads and a thousand eyes of burning fire. It was impossible to tell the scale, but she knew what it depicted was huge beyond imagination. Her frustration vanished; she was suddenly very thankful that the murals were so decayed.

“Do you think that’s what they imprisoned down in the Pit?” Starswirl asked. Her voice was very small.

A shiver ran down Twilight’s spine. “... I think so.”

Starswirl looked around. “That one has the tree… and I think that one is showing the creation of Tartarus… I think these murals are telling a story, but I can’t figure out what order they’re supposed to be in…”

Twilight walked up and down the hall, looking from mural to murals. “Perhaps it’s like a zig-zag pattern,” she suggested. “The first one might be that painting of the forest landscape, and then it goes across to the landscape with the giant storm clouds…” She paused, noticing that the storm clouds had thousands of flame-like points, almost like eyes. “And then it continues in the zig-zagging pattern.”

Starswirl followed the movement of Twilight’s pointing hoof. “I think you’re right. Ok, so this one might be something like ‘the destruction of the world by storm’...”

As the two unicorns delved deep into the mysteries of the hall, Null found himself increasingly drawn to their conversation. Slowly, his attention drifted away from the shadows of the pillars.

Twilight paused at one mural. “Does that look like the Elements of Harmony to you?”

Starswirl tilted her head and squinted. The painting depicted five colored shapes around a sixth, surrounded by what might have been flames or clouds. “Could be, but… the colors are all wrong.”

Twilight looked at her, and Starswirl continued. “The colors of the Elements are purple, pink, blue, red, orange, and magenta, representing Generosity, Kindness, Laughter, Loyalty, Honesty, and Magic, respectively.” She jabbed a hoof at the painting. “The only one that’s the same here is red.”

Twilight rubbed her chin. “Well, it could be that the paint has changed color over time.”

Starswirl shook her head. “The other paintings are all the right color. The trees are green, the skies are blue, all that. What are the odds this is the only one that would change?”

The two unicorns stared at each other’s hooves. Twilight was the first to speak. “I don’t remember what the six colors of the Elements of Chaos were, but I don’t think they were the same as what you just said…”

“Hmm. Well, I suppose it wouldn’t be unreasonable for Discord to have changed the colors of the Elements when he corrupted them. Then again…” Her ears perked up and she looked at Twilight, eyes wide. “Wait a minute! The Elements of Harmony from the book! Those were different! Those were magenta, red, blue, purple, yellow, and green!”

Twilight gave her a confused look. “What book?”

“The first place I learned about the Elements of Harmony was in a book with about the myth of Nightmare Moon…” Seeing Twilight’s blank expression, Starswirl added, “Don’t worry about who that is, just bear with me. Anyways, the book had a picture of the Elements of Harmony, and those were the colors. But those colors weren’t what my friends and I received when we actually summoned them.”

Twilight looked back up at the mural. “So maybe the Elements change colors over time?”

“Maybe more.” Starswirl pointed to another mural. “That one seems to show the creatures using the Elements to defeat the monster…” She pointed again. “And that one shows them using them to create Tartarus around the tree. The Elements are the strongest magic known to ponykind, but I don’t think they’re that strong.” She stopped, suddenly aware of several uncomfortable implications of her theory.

“So if the Elements can change colors over time,” Twilight continued for her, oblivious in her excitement at having potentially solved the mystery, “then maybe they can change their nature, too. Maybe our Elements are some kind of descendent of these.” She gestured to the painting of the Elements on the wall. “Well, if that’s the case, then we can probably use the Elements to heal the tree, whatever’s wrong with it!”

Then she too stopped, enthusiasm giving way to realization. “Right… so all we need to do is that thing I’ve been trying to do, and can’t,” she finished miserably.

Starswirl gave her a small smile. “Well, you’ve never had my help before.”

Twilight smiled back. “That’s true.’

“I failed.”

The two looked up at Null. The Shadow Guard was in full battle stance except for having his sword drawn, staring at the shadow of a pillar. “I’m sorry. I was distracted.”

“What are you talking about?” Twilight asked, and was immediately answered by the sound of hoofsteps.

Thirteen ponies stepped out of the shadows. Twilight blinked—no, they weren’t ponies, but they looked like them. Tall, elegant, terrifyingly beautiful ponies with fangs and claws on their hooves, and not one, but two horns, slicing upwards from their foreheads in a wicked curve like the blade of a scythe.

The largest smiled, showing off her canines. “Vell, vell,” she said in a thick accent, “zat is most perceptive of you, little slave of Domitian.”

Strangely, Null seemed to relax. “Oh. Bicorns,” he said to the two unicorns. “They are not very dangerous.”

The leader smiled again, this time opening her mouth to reveal rows of teeth that extended back like a shark’s. Suddenly, hoofsteps echoed around them, building into a veritable stampede as the darkness seemed to undergo mitosis, revealing a sea of bicorns.

“Oh.”

“I thought you said they weren’t very dangerous…?” Twilight asked, stepping closer to the other two ponies.

“Yes, thirteen would have been of little regard. Hundreds is a different matter.” Null turned again to the leader. “Why do you come with so many? There is not enough to share amongst all of you.”

“You misinterpret us, little pony,” the leader said, gesturing grandly with her hoof. “Ve are not here to devour zese two children of Astra. Ve felt the power from zeir battle. Such magic! I vould hardly have thought it possible had I not felt zeir power myself.” She lowered her head and stalked forward. “Vith zeir magic, ve can free our brood mother from her chains, and at last be free of zis accursed place!”

Null bowed his head. “This was my mistake,” he said to the two unicorns.

The three were back to back now, watching the bicorns close in, the circle of empty space around them gradually growing smaller and smaller. “No it wasn’t,” Starswirl said.

Twilight swallowed. “If I’m going down, I’m going down fighting.”

“Bicorns prey especially upon unicorns. You cannot use magic against them. They feed off it. It will only make them stronger.”

“What?!” Twilight risked a glance at Null. “What are we supposed to do then, gore them with our horns?”

“As good a tactic as any.”

The two unicorns simultaneously looked up at the stubby, rounded little cones on their head, and then at the long, wicked blades that belonged to the bicorns.

“Can you take the six directly behind us?”

“Yes!” the two answered together.

“Good. I will take the first hundred in all the other directions.”

The bicorns continued to close in. The circle contracted like the loop of a noose. Twilight swallowed again. Well, at least I already know what it’s like to be eaten alive.

“Tell me,” she asked, figuring if they were about to die anyways there was nothing to lose “were you the ones pretending to be fake versions of us?”

The leader laughed, a sound like razors scraping together. “Zat vas most likely ze Aetheliacht. It enjoys breaking little ponies like you.”

“Oh. And the heartbeats?”

The bicorn’s smile vanished. “Heartbeats?”

Thump-thump.

The circle stopped shrinking. The bicorns were all looking at each other. Even as monsters, their expressions were as clear as crystal: Did you hear that?

Thump-thump.

The leader’s pupils shrank into tiny dots. “Azlbach!” she shouted, rearing up into the air. “Knalak! Knalak mas fleugnen!”

In an instant, the circle of predators turned into a herd of frightened prey. Where moments ago was an organized army of zealots was now a terrified swarm of confused animals. The bicorns ran scattered in every direction, all thought of releasing their accursed mother gone, trampling each other in their desperation to get away.

Starswirl’s ears pressed down. “Somehow, I think things just went from bad to worse…”

Thump-thump.

Null snapped around. “Run!”

Thump-thump.

They took off through the temple, weaving through pillars. Null and Starswirl leapt down the stairs, covering the entire distance in a single bound. Twilight followed, but the shock of the landing sent bolts of pain through her injured chest. She cried out and bent down on one knee.

“Twilight!” Starswirl shouted.

Thump-thump.

“I’m fine!” Twilight wheezed and stood back up. “What about the field of razors? We’ll be too slow moving through it!”

“We don’t have to!” Starswirl shouted. “Look!” She pointed to a small herd of bicorns that were retreated through a hidden trapdoor down into secret tunnels.

Null flew forward, knocking aside the last bicorn before it could close the stone door. “Quickly!”

Thump-thump.

The other two ponies jumped through the door, sliding down the long slope before the tunnel finally leveled out. Null followed, then slammed the door shut before the bicorn could follow.

Thump-thump.

The tunnel was a long, straight shot through the rock, roughly hewn from the stone—it looked as though the bicorns had slowly carved it out over the centuries. As they raced along it they occasionally raced past entrances into side tunnels, and through these they saw glimpses of more of the monstrous pony-like creatures fleeing, shouting in their guttural tongue.

And screaming. At first they were but distant echoes that came occasionally, but gradually they started moving closer, louder. The ponies didn’t discover what they were screaming about until they ran across a crossroads with a bicorn—or rather, four hooves and a splatter on the ground of more blood than any creature of that size had any right to have.

Thump-thump.

Their hooves splashed in it as they passed by, leaving behind red hoofprints as they continued.

Thump-thump.

Pain shot through Twilight’s chest with every step now; she could feel the two ribs that the fake Starswirl had cracked shifting ever so slightly as she heaved every breath. Exhaustion battered her body. She was starting to fall behind.

“Twilight!” Null shouted, “faster!”

She had no breath with which to answer. She tried to shake her head in response, but the act threw off her balance. She stumbled.

Thump-thump.

“Twilight!” Starswirl cried.

“I… can’t…” she wheezed, trying to pick herself up off the ground. “Just… g—AH!”

Null swept one of his wings underneath her and flung her up onto her back. He looked at Starswirl. No words were necessary.

Thump-thump.

More and more screams sounded, the echoes of the last not yet having faded before a new one cried out, becoming a ceaseless, shivering, shrieking din.

Thump-thump.

From the darkness behind them tiny rivulets of blood raced across the floor, trickling in straight lines and turning at right angles.

Thump-thump.

The screams cut off, as suddenly as if someone had shut off a speaker. The blood was at their hooves now, overtaking them.

Thump-thump.

The tunnel began to melt, the stone softening beneath their hooves, every step leaving circular imprints in the ground as they ran.

Thump-thump.

The walls and ceiling dripped liquid stone, running down their backs and forming pools in their hoofprints. They were ankle-deep in the soup now, and slowing.

Thump-thump.

“AHH!” The ground beneath Starswirl’s hooves gave way, the stone sucking her in like quicksand. In seconds she was up to her neck.

Thump-thump.

“Starswirl!” Twilight grabbed the unicorn with her magic and wrenched her free of the floor, pulling her through the air towards them.

Thump-thump.

Null lifted off the ground, his wingtips almost touching the walls as they melted around them. “Almost there!”

Thump-thump.

Twilight swung around, grabbing Starswirl with her front hooves and wrapping her hind legs around Null. In that instant she gazed into the darkness behind them, and would forever wish she hadn’t.

THUMP-THUMP.

“Blast upwards!”

Both unicorns simultaneously unleashed on the ceiling. A purple column of light erupted upwards, and the stone melted away from it like ice.

THUMP-THUMP.

“Hold on!”

G-forces slammed the ponies as Null went vertical, wings clawing through the air, desperately digging for height. They soared through the hole made by their magic and burst out from the top of a stone cliff and into the open cavern of Tartarus.

THUMP-THUMP.

Thump-Thump.

Thump-Thump.

Thump-Thump…

Null crashed onto the closest available roof. The three ponies were strewn across across thirty meters of stone tile. Twilight picked herself up and groaned.

“Is it finally safe to say ‘We’re not going to die’?”

Null rubbed his head and blinked several times. “As safe as one can be in Tartarus.”

Author's Note

First time trying the "import from Google Docs" function, please comment if you notice any formatting errors.