Valey stood defensively between Chauncey and her friends in the empty, brightly-lit laboratory, Gerardo crouched on the observation platform guarding Nyala's empty body. "Alright. You've got our attention." Valey paced back and forth, eyeing him all the while. "Don't think for a moment we don't know you're doing shady stuff, but I'll talk. Explain yourself."
Chauncey didn't hesitate. "Allow me to start from the top," he began, "with what I want. You've seen the state of our kind in this empire, sarosian. Anywhere from second-class citizens to outright despised. Izvaldi is a unique haven built through decades of work, but its attempt at equality can't balance out the injustices taking place elsewhere. Look at this continent. Look at who runs it. Compare Izvaldi to the continent as a whole, the empire and Mistvale alike, and tell me who you think has done more for the benefit of our species."
From the back, Starlight frowned. "Well, the goddesses have been around a lot longer than you."
"And thus had much more time to work." Chauncey shrugged in acceptance. "So why have they done less? Why can a hoofful of mere mortals build something so much better with the pittance lifespans they're given to work with?"
Valey pointed a hoof. "Yeah, and we're supposed to buy that doing weird experiments and building things like Stanza and using poor mares as tools to grow bodies is a good thing? And don't you dare tell me the ends justify the means."
"I wouldn't dare," Chauncey calmly countered. "You know as well as I do that kind of thinking is a fool's justification. But do you hold our goddesses to the same standard? Suppose they forged this continent into a paradise, yet did so through means you also have a problem with. Would you condemn them too?"
"Well, duh." Valey frowned, halting her pacing. "Look, I'm not a hypocrite. I know you're about to tell us some really nasty truth about Garsheeva or the Night Mother or whatever, but to be frank, I don't really care for either of them in the first place and it's not gonna make me any happier about you treating ponies like machines. What do you want with all those moon glass foals?"
"One thing at a time, please." Chauncey waved a hoof beneath his robes. "What I'm about to ask isn't so much a truth as an idea: where do you think our goddesses came from? They may be immortal, but are they eternal? Have they always existed, or did they begin? And if so, how?"
Valey shrugged. "Sorry. Not a history buff, and I doubt any of these dudes are either."
Atop the platform, Gerardo cleared his throat. "Concrete historical records of the Griffon Empire cease about one thousand years ago, when our present dating system was structured into place. Historical evidence strongly suggests Garsheeva and the Empire existed long before that, but it swiftly becomes impossible to construct or date things outside of the histories of the houses kept by the nobility themselves, and those archives occasionally meet their ends at the paws of zealous rivals. Traveling abroad, most accounts of Garsheeva date back as far as another thousand years before that, though much remains shrouded in myth. Lore kept by the Church of the Nine Virtues in Yakyakistan is our best historical archive on the matter."
"You've done your research." Chauncey nodded in approval. "The world's distant past is shrouded in intense mystery. No one knows when or how it was created. However, the lack of creation myths speaks to a lack of immortals willing or able to take credit for it, so I surmise that this continent's goddesses did, at one point, come into being." His eyes flashed. "My dream is to rediscover that lost art. To find a way for mortals to create gods, and give sarosiankind the champion they deserve."
Valey blinked, then scratched her head. "And you're sure you're not insane? Gods are, like..."
"Sacrosanct? Forbidden? To be revered?" Chauncey took a step forward. "True divinity is an ideal, and if it can be embodied, our goddesses don't do that. Reality can be simplified to a set of rules, and science is the art of understanding those rules. I believe our goddesses to exist inside those rules, not above them. They are just... very intelligent. Good at using them."
"Uhhh..." Valey squinted. "Pretty sure you're making some big leaps of logic there, buddy. Look, as someone who knows a little bit more about how mortals and bodies and souls and everything else work than I probably want to, trying to find stuff like that out really doesn't sound like a good idea."
"Why? Are you afraid of what you'll find?" Chauncey fixed her with his gaze. "Afraid it will be an ugly truth, that whatever methods you condemn me for here and now have been in employ for millennia by the beings this continent worships and reveres? Or does it rub wrong against your moral senses that were instilled by their very teachings, which I believe to be taught precisely to keep their secrets hidden?"
Valey cleared her throat. "Yeah, no. I dunno about you, but I've never listened to any moral teachings. Used to be the world's pettiest societal nuisance for my entire life, and changed because I found something better. No one told me that was bad. No one told me this was better. I think you're off your rocker."
"When you say teachings..." Gerardo interrupted, raising a talon. "You're talking about the heresies, aren't you? That's why directly outside this room is a massive energy farm constructed in direct defiance to one of Garsheeva's commandments."
"Perfect." Chauncey stilled in approval. "What I want to do, Gerardo Guillaume, is create a champion of equal might to this continent's goddesses who will fight for my people when our own goddess will not or cannot, with her blessing or without. Everything I do to do that, from research making Stanza to extracting brands? If I fetter myself with moral constraints our goddesses or their creators may not have been bound by, I will never succeed."
"B-But..." Gerardo sputtered. "Willfully violating the heresies? You are aware of some of the things those contain? Prohibitions against cannibalism and incest, for instance?"
Chauncey shrugged. "Breaking them is neither important nor necessary. What matters is finding out the truth they conceal. That power array, for instance?" He turned towards the doors. "All of the Empire is connected by the same grid to a singular energy source in Garsheeva's citadel in Grandbell. Attempting any large-scale power draw or transference would change the balance of power in the entire array, instantly drawing Garsheeva's attention. That heresy in particular is a trap for anyone audacious enough to do what you just suggested."
"But you built it anyway," Starlight pointed out.
"I did. It will be my beacon." Chauncey turned back to her and nodded. "When I have met with success and everything is finished, this will be my signal to Garsheeva that a new competitor has appeared."
"Bananas, that's suspicious." Valey rubbed her head. "Look, you obviously want a favor of us. There's no way you'd be being this nice to someone who obviously knows you're a sleazebag and can do something about it otherwise. And I'm just saying, telling us you're trying to pick a fight with and overthrow a giant sphinx goddess is a really, really good way to make us want nothing to do with this."
"Are you leaving, then?" Chauncey sighed. "I can help you, you know. It's not just about your sister. You're in a body that isn't your own too, are you not?" He raised an eyebrow. "Ever wanted to fix that? I can guarantee you won't learn enough to preserve your memories across such a swap without descending to every level you condemn in me. I have knowledge. You can use it."
Valey gritted her teeth, winced... and looked back at Chauncey. "Fine. Keep talking."
"I've said my part." Chauncey shrugged. "You know what my end goal is. I think it's time to ask some questions of your own. Why Stanza, why foals, why brands... how you can help."
"We are not asking that last one." Maple spoke up, voice strong yet quivering. "It will take a lot more convincing before we want anything to do with this. I'm not okay with anything you've been doing."
Starlight nudged her comfortingly, then looked up. "What is Stanza?"
"Stanza is a machine made from emotion," Chauncey replied, slipping into an easy lecture. "A primary interest in my research regards the transference of brands from one creature to another. If you're familiar with Griffon Empire lore, one of the signs sphinxes use to claim rulership over all species is to possess griffonlike features ponies do not, yet also manifest brands. Extensive investigations into brands are a core component of this facility's research. However, transferring brands is a very slipshod and patchwork art, using many different tools and impractical combinations of methods. Stanza was an attempt to create a unifying method: a machine that could remove brands from anyone and imbue them in anyone else."
"An attempt." Valey raised an eyebrow at Nyala's body. "Looks pretty attempt-y to me."
"Stanza can remove and transfer brands as hoped," Chauncey continued. "But is only able to remove them from sarosians. I've also attempted to use Stanza for other research, such as into the workings of the Night Mother's communication network. With Puddles' aid, I was indeed able to weave Stanza's song silently into my Firefly Sisters' music and record observable effects on a widespread population of ponies... but it's difficult to encode those effects, and that experiment had to be scrapped when singing the song had deleterious effects on their brands."
Maple's eyes went wide. "Their cutie marks breaking like that was your fault?"
"As I said." Chauncey paced in a circle. "That's why the experiment was scrapped and Stanza scheduled to be brought back here for retirement. Though I was goaded into quickening things when you two raided the facility in Gyre."
Valey sighed. "So you're actually getting rid of that thing. Sweet. Bananas, did you never think singing a magical song of despair could be bad for ponies, or something?"
"Of course I considered it." Chauncey didn't stop, eventually reaching the base of the observation platform before turning back. "But it didn't change anything. As I said, however the goddesses became goddesses, I must be equally relentless in my pursuit of knowledge."
"Yeah?" Valey straightened herself out, taking a step forward. "So speaking of knowing things, what do you know about me? What makes ponies like those foals and their moon glass cutie marks so special? I already know what you're going to say about why you'd do that to their moms, so what makes collecting them important? And what does that mean you have in store for me?"
Chauncey blinked. "Why, I'm already researching methods of soul transference. Why else do you think I'd make a collection like this than to see to it that whatever god body I create, I can give it a fitting soul?"
Valey blinked harder, then leaned in. "Wait, what? You want to..."
"It's one thing to create an immortal being," Chauncey lectured. "Garsheeva, the Night Mother, the alicorns of the south. It's quite another, as our goddesses clearly demonstrate, to have one who uses their power in a wise, just and benevolent manner. What good would come of creating someone on their level of power when that someone would turn out just the same?" He shrugged. "I need a talent that will command godlike reverence coupled with a soul that exudes godlike presence. A ruler who can claim legitimacy and wield it justly upon whom to bestow a form with whatever powers I unlock. And so, with those foals? I search."
"You search moon glass," Maple insisted, glancing to Valey. "Instead of any normal pony? What's so special about Valey? Why?"
"Because..." Chauncey's eyes narrowed. "The Night Mother is not Luna."
Valey's face scrunched. "Is not who?"
"It's not a tale anyone in the empire will tell you," Chauncey began. "Actually, it's preserved only in the highest circles of Mistvale clergy. Sarosiankind were created long ago by the alicorn princess Luna, south of the mountains in the land of Equestria. One thousand years ago, in fact, shortly before the world was split between north and south. Luna did this by wielding a power known as the Immortal Dream, a physical incarnation of the hope and ambition of society to grow and amount to something more. That power was so great, it was said to be able to grant any wish the bearer made. Do you know of anything else said to do the same?"
Gerardo quietly tilted his head, and Starlight frowned... before Maple hesitantly spoke up. "Cutie marks. Brands. In my old town, it's said that for some ponies, when they have a dream they want to come true more than anything else, obtaining one gives you the magical power to make that happen. Of course, it isn't always true..."
"Brands," Chauncey agreed. "The Immortal Dream granted wishes by creating brands, each made to fulfill the bearer's every desire. And Luna created sarosiankind as receptacles for those wishes... or so the story goes."
"Bananas." Valey's ears fell. "Are you saying I'm..."
"Does it create souls, too?" Starlight watched him with intensity. "Are you saying that's where Valey came from?"
"Brands and souls are linked, yet separate," Chauncey said. "Now, some of this story you've likely heard before. Many modern legends are a variation on the truth. The part that's closely guarded..." He lowered his voice. "After Luna vanished to the moon, someone else appeared. The Night Mother exists, and there are a small few number of creatures in the world who have visited her in person. Meltdown is one. Mistvale obscures this fact, leaving it up to legend whether they are different or the same, but the truth is that Luna has had no contact with the world or her creations for over nine hundred years." He bowed his head. "Until the obsidian fell."
Valey raised a shaky hoof. "I see where you think this is going," she managed. "You're about to say you think Luna's been usurped by someone and sent down a load of cutie marks made especially so you could take them out."
Chauncey's grin widened. "Or that she abdicated," he said, "being unable to serve and protect her children, and sent down something else instead."