The keep was silent inside, at least at first. Daring Do found herself shivering uncontrollably. It was cold, and the walls inside were bleak constructions of enormous basalt blocks. Inside, it looked more like the windowless dungeon of a traditional castle. All of it looked far too much like similar, abandoned places that she had walked through countless times- -and in each of those cases, not once had the situation gone well.
Then, suddenly, they were not alone. A pair of ponies appeared at the end of a long hallway. Rainbow Dash was standing in the front, but for some reason she did not draw her spear. She had frozen, which was the last thing Daring Do had expected of her.
Not that it mattered. Daring Do and Zel both stepped forward and past her, the latter raising his own spear and the former drawing her whip.
“No!” cried Softwings, putting her hoof on Daring Do’s hoof as she raised the whip to her mouth. “You can’t! They’re not armed!”
“If arms they lack/ then all the easier our attack.”
White frowned deeply and pushed Zel back, shaking her head hard. Daring Do lowered her whip. She may not have trusted Softwings, but she certainly trusted White.
The two ponies were allowed to approach, and within ten steps Daring Do was glad that the pair had stopped her and Zel. The ponies approaching them were indeed unarmed, but they were also nude. They were a pair of white Pegasi with short white manes, with the barcodes tattooed on their shoulders clearly visible. Both of them were somewhat small and thin, and Daring Do was unable to tell if they were meant to be mares or stallions.
“Sisters! Sisters!” they cried, seeming to ignore Daring Do and the others.
White and Softwings ran to them.
“Brothers,” said Softwings. She hugged one of them, and the other joined in. “Brothers, what has…” Softwings trailed off as her hooves came back wet. White pointed to the bellies of the pair of young stallions, and even at a distance Daring Do could see the glimmer of silver cables connected to their navels. Softwings’s eyes grew wide.
“Brothers!” she gasped. “You’re too early! You weren’t meant to be born yet!”
“We had no choice,” said one of the pair, seeming to be on the verge of tears. “The gestation system is failing.”
“It had to be moved into auxiliary power to support those who cannot yet be born,” said the other.
“We were just born twenty minutes ago. But…” he trailed off.
White reached out and put her hoof on his shoulder. He looked into her eye, and seemed to understand. He nodded. “It’s out eldest sister. Something is wrong. She’s sick, she’s very sick.”
“So are the others,” added the other.
“Explain,” demanded Flock, suddenly pushing forward past Daring Do. He was no longer afraid now that he knew he was dealing with children still wet with artificial amniotic fluid. “EXPLAIN.”
The pair recoiled in fear, and Flock seemed pleased. White turned suddenly and punched Flock in the face.
Flock was sent reeling backward, but no one really cared. Daring Do stepped over him. “Please,” she said. “We’re here to help. Your other brothers and sisters. What’s wrong with them?”
“They followed the voices,” said one of the brothers. The other one nodded in agreement, as if this actually made sense.
“What voices?”
“Some of us listened. They went to her. They’ll get sick, like she is. But we didn’t. It didn’t want us.” They looked at each other, and then at Daring Do. “Only the good ones. The ones that came out correct, the ones mother loves the most. Those are the ones the voices wanted. Not us.”
“And not us,” said Softwings. “I have identity issues, and she’s an imprint-failure.”
“Then you might be safe,” said one of the brothers. “But we can’t guarantee it.”
Caballeron approached them slowly. At first the brothers recoiled, but Caballeron smiled.
“Is there anything else you can tell us? Anything at all?” His voice was surprisingly charming and calm. Daring Do had not heard him use that voice in a long time, and for moment had the absurd- -but probably true notion- -that he would be very good with children.
One of the brothers nodded. “Mother and the Grandmaster are trying to fix everything, but it’s not working. The big silver pony is keeping ponies out. And the squires…well, they don’t hurt us. But they’re very angry right now.”
“Are there more of you?”
The other brother nodded.
Caballeron turned to Rogue. “Rogue! I have a job for you!”
“Yeah, boss?”
“Go with them. Find the others. Get them out of here.”
Rogue looked surprised, if not somewhat insulted. “Boss, I’m not babysitter- -”
“Rogue, you’re the last one I have. Just do your job and do WHAT I SAY!”
Rogue took a step back, now even more surprised, and nodded. “R- -right, boss.”
“But the gestation pods,” said one of the brothers.
“We have an evacuation protocol,” explained Softwings. “In case Celestia ever found us. It’s time.”
One of the brothers’ eyes widened. “But we can’t! We don’t have authorization!”
“I’m giving it. Do it. At this rate this whole place is either going to be a warzone or it’s going to go up in flames in a matter of less than an hour.”
The brothers looked at each other, and nodded solemnly toward White and Softwings. “Yes, big-sisters. We understand.” They approached Rogue. “Come with us, Mr. Rogue. We will show you where to go.”
Rogue gave one last confused look at Caballeron, and Caballeron nodded. Rogue was led away.
“You just gave up one of our soldiers,” admonished Flock. “You know that, right?”
“If your dark wizard is as powerful as you claim, then it hardly matters,” retorted Caballeron angrily.
“I am,” said Scarlet Mist.
“Not that it matters anyway. From what you described, all we need to do is get Rainbow Dash into position.” Rainbow Dash shivered at hearing Caballeron say her name. “She will take care of the rest.”
“True,” said Flock, eying Rainbow Dash to make sure that she knew that the resolution was all in her hooves. “That is all we need to do.”
“Then stop talking and let’s do it,” said Sweetie Drops, forcing her way past them. “The faster the better.”
Daring Do nodded in agreement, and they started again. Rainbow Dash, though, straggled and stayed behind. Responsibility was nothing new to her, but there was always some aspect of stage fright associated with a big performance- -and when that performance decided the fate of Equestria, the stage fright was magnified greatly.
She supposed she had always known that. It was impossible not to. The whole time, though, she had forced it to the back of her mind. When Caballeron has said it, though, it was suddenly forced to surface. They were all counting on her to do something that she only barely understood.
Which is why she strayed behind the rest of them. Not because she was afraid- -her usual response to fear would have been to take the lead- -but because the rear was where Flock was hiding.
“So,” she said, falling into step beside him. “This is all up to me, isn’t it?”
“If there were any true gods still living, I would pray that the responsibility would fall to anypony else. Anypony at all. Even the mute girl.”
“Sure. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I’m not confident in any of this. Of course I’m not. Risk is always bad. If I had reclaimed the Hand when I had originally set out to, we would not have this problem.”
“No. You’d have it down the road a few hundred years or so.”
“Ah. So she told you.”
“No, it was obvious. I mean, come on. Evil wizard? Ancient artifact? Of course you were going to try to use it yourself.”
Flock looked somewhat taken aback. “Is there a reason you’re talking to me?”
“Well I wouldn’t do it for fun, would I?” Rainbow Dash sighed. “I need to know more about what I have to do. EXACTLY what I need to do. In the Wonderbolts, we go over flight paths and plans for hours before even putting our gear on…but nopony’s told me squat.”
“It’s simple. You have a spear.”
“I know that part.”
Flock sighed. “The Hand is interfaced to its host’s heart. That is the nexus of its connection. That is its only weak point. This is absolutely imperative, Rainbow Dash: your accuracy must be excellent. No. Perfect.”
“Everything I do is perfect.”
“I highly doubt that. But in this case it must be. One inch off, and you will fail. Only by driving the Spear of Extinction through her heart will you prevent the vandrare from manifesting in its entirety.”
“So, I poke her with the Spear…and that’ll cure her? Absence, I mean?”
Flock looked at her as if she were a moron. “No. You are going to drive an enchanted spear through her heart. That is not a survivable injury.”
Rainbow Dash suddenly stopped walking. “W- -what?”
“I assumed it was obvious. Absence will not survive this.”
“YOU NEVER SAID THAT!” screamed Rainbow Dash, suddenly. A look of horror had grown over her face. “You never said- -”
“Because it’s not important. She’s just a clone. A clone that was gone the instant she touched the Hand.”
“No! NO! She’s a pony! She’s my FRIEND!”
“What does it even matter?” snapped Flock. “That’s what the Spear is for, isn’t it? That seems to be its primary function, ending friendships. But it doesn’t matter. We already failed once because of petty loyalty. If you fail, the vandrare will devour everything. Every friend you have.”
Rainbow Dash was shaking and sweating. For some reason the Spear felt incredibly heavy. She had claimed- -and promised to herself- -that she would never be as abhorrent a traitor as its original owner. But now she was being told that there was no other option.
“I can’t,” she said. “I just can’t.”
“Then we will fail. Daring Do, White, Sweetie Drops, even Caballeron? They will all end here. Along with you. And your dear friend Absence will meet a fate worse than death. But I suppose you have a choice.” He turned away from her. “And though I have ridiculously little faith in an inferior like yourself, I also have little doubt that you will make the correct decision.
Rainbow Dash watched him start walking, and she hefted the Spear. It still felt heavy, and she could feel it humming under her grasp. Waiting.
Unlike Flock, she was not so sure.