//------------------------------//
// Epilogue 
// Story: The Pony Of Vengeance 
// by BradyBunch 
//------------------------------//

Twilight, propping the door open, opened the mail slot and shuffled through the papers until she found it. Gasping aloud, she ran back inside her castle, the other papers trailing halfheartedly behind her. "Spike! Spike, a letter from Dr. Brainstem! He's written a note back to us like he promised he would!"

Spike poked his head out of the kitchen and into the hallway as Twilight ran past. "What did he say he'd write about?"

"About his new job with Princess Celestia back in Canterlot!" Twilight explained as she went. Spike followed her to the throne room with the circular Cutie Map in it. Once there, Twilight sat down in her seat and slit the letter open. "It's been three weeks since we stopped Ironheart. Let's see what it is they've learned about him since then."

And without further preamble, Twilight began to read.

To Princess Twilight Sparkle.

I am glad to be back in touch with you. We've examined what it is we were able to recover from Ironheart's lair thoroughly, but I fear we are nowhere closer than the position we started in. Ironheart's progress in mechanical devices is far beyond anything the rest if Equestria has at present.

Thinking back on it, I should have realized the genius we were budding all those years back when we were all working for Celestia. He certainly earned his name of Bright Mind, I'll give him that. But it was because of our negligence that made him slip into such a terrible mindset in the first place. Had we not protected him and prevented hatred and prejudice from entering the lab in the first place, Bright Mind would have turned out to be a very different pony. But, what's done is done, and now that Ironheart is no more, I fear that no more answers can be divulged in the past. The problem now is moving forward.

To the best of my knowledge, I am the last living pony to have worked on Project 24. Coupled with my reluctance to repeat the projects we did before, and the absence of the blueprints in Ironheart's lair, I think that Project 24 will not be reactivated. Equestria is simply not ready for such weapons of ease. To be honest, I'm happy to put this behind me. At the moment, we're trying to go on the molecular scale and see how atoms work. Like I said before, I got my degree in anatomy, not chemistry, so I'm the manager instead. And this time, I will not be another Count Privilege. If anypony at all has problems they want to talk to me about, they need to feel safe in coming to me, because I care about them and I want them to realize that as well.

As for the rest of Bright Mind...you can keep the book you mentioned in your last letter. Revere it in a special spot in your library. The world must not be purged of Ironheart's thoughts, for those thoughts he has lie in all of us sooner or later; only his actions must be condemned. Refer to it often to remind yourself of what you should not become, but keep it away from public eyes. That book is a special book, regardless of how sickeningly twisted it might be. There is no other like it in all of Equestria, and I would like you to keep it in your possession. Out of all the ponies in the land, you are the one most qualified to treasure it and keep it intact.

And as for the one remaining part of Ironheart that was recovered, I believe that Celestia has managed to do a good job in isolating it.

Keep in touch. I will always respond happily and dearly.

Dr. Phineas Brainstem

"So...what now, Twilight?" Spike asked of her when she was done. "Its all over now. Rainbow Dash is almost done recovering in the hospital, Dr. Brainstem is in charge in Canterlot now, and you've locked away the, uh...the scary book in a place where it'll never do any harm again. What'll you do now?"

"Go on with my life, I guess. Write to the princesses. Play with my friends. Learn new lessons about friendship." Twilight's eyes shifted away from looking at Spike. "But it'll never be over, Spike." Twilight had changed her mood from excited to glum. "It will never be over for me. I'll always remember Ironheart." She sighed and circled a hoof on the table in front of her. "It's impossible for me to forget him now."

"I bet I can think of something to help you forget him for the moment."

"Really, Spike?" Twilight was curious now. "What is it?"

"You want to go get some lunch with Rarity?" Spike suggested. "I was looking forward to going alone, you know, but...you can come along if you want."

Twilight put on a relaxing smile. Spike was right. She could remove her thoughts of him by filling her mind with light. And friendship, above all else, was light. "Thank you, Spike. I'll gladly come."

The power of friendship really was the only power that really mattered.

And with that thought, Twilight, and Spike, with light in their minds, sat up and left the castle throne room to revel in the love of their friends. Another adventure was at last behind them, and another adventure, smaller but better for them, lay ahead of them for that afternoon.





The small wooden containment crate was labeled STORAGE #1653890 DO NOT OPEN. Inside the crate was placed the pitiful, shriveled heart that nothing could penetrate except the sword once wielded by its late owner. It was cool and quiet by now, and the long crack running down the length of it made sure of its unmovableness forevermore. The heart was black, and the crack was black as well, but the inside of it was the color of ash.

The crate had been sealed, nailed down, and taped on every side. Just in case. Once it was ready to go, the old, wizened pony loaded it onto his dolly and pushed it down the long, cool corridor.

This deep underneath Canterlot, it was ideal for long-term storage. Ancient pipelines and boxy air vents ran above his head as he went deeper into the vast storage space.

It had to be his luck to have to be in charge of sorting this mess. The order was confusing to him, and he was at the end of his energy already. He almost marched away in a huff, but he knew that wouldn't accomplish anything.

There were so many boxes in the storage area that he was all but clambering all over them as he patiently pushed the dolly towards his destination.

Ten minutes later, the box was loaded in its rightful place, and the old, stooping pony could breathe normally again. The shelf it was on was high up, and it had taken considerable effort to load it.

He was just pushing himself away when he heard it.

Confused, he stuck a hoof, numb with frigid cold, into his ear and wiggled it around. Dang, he thought. I need to get my ears checked.

He could have sworn he had heard a very faint thumping sound.

He patiently listened for it again. What could that have been?

The cold bit at his nose, and he sniffed. It was cold down there, underneath layers and layers of rock. He wondered what it was with the darned atmosphere down there.

He tried to listen for the faint thumping sound again, but he heard nothing.

Then he heard it.

Ka-thump ssssssssshhhhhhhhh klug

And a blast of warm air hit the top of his head, and all the cold and fear surrounding him instantly went away. He blew a breath of relief.

It was just the heater vent.