The Sweetie Chronicles: Fragments

by Wanderer D

Summary That Never Was: The End of Ponies

Author's Note:

A 'summary that never was' is my attempt to fill in the blanks in The Sweetie Chronicles where we never got to visit but was mentioned or implied, or we were unable to finish the chapters. This is one such chapter. Since these are not complete and contain a summary of the events in some parts, I'm publishing them alongside actual updates.

This chapter was written alongside shortskirtsandexplosions for his story The End of Ponies. We never got around to finishing it, but I hope you all can enjoy what we had, and where it was going. For reference, we worked on this chapter from around July 2013 to mid 2014.

Sweetie watched through one of the various windows in Bruce’s ship as they burst through a dark, almost black cloud into the lighter shade of gray outside. She didn’t know what the ship looked like, so she imagined a metallic brick simply hovering out of the mist, leaving a contrail of vapor and smoke behind it.

Although the idea was amusing, it did little to cheer her up. Outside, the world was nothing more than a light gray, windy, swirl of clouds and distant thunder, full of snow and ash. It held too much similarity with another world she had visited, although it seemed that at least this particular destruction wasn’t caused by active war.

“So, let me see if I got this straight… all of that, is Equestria.” She motioned with her hoof at the windows. “And it happened because the moon suddenly crashed down on it?” She looked at the dismal world outside, pressing her face to the window, trying to look down and see if she could see the ground far below them. “And there are literally two ponies left as far as anypon-anyone knows, and that includes me.”

Bruce stopped singing long enough to glance at the young mare. “Da. No one knows vhy moon suddenly crash land of ponies. But many still blame ponies for it. Not Brucie!” The squirrel chuckled.

Sweetie sighed. “At least it wasn’t because we engineered the weapons that did it.” She pondered the sky outside for a moment, and she imagined pegasi flying in blue skies. More than the other Wasteland, this one gave off a sense of loss. “So, what can you tell me about this ‘Harmony’ pony?”

“Harmony is good pony,” Brucie said after a few seconds of thought. “She is treasure hunter, and very good one!” he said with a rumbling chuckle. “She very serious. Too serious! Ha! Vhy, Brucie can’t count how many times she’s gotten into fights! Very, how do you say it, bad-ass?”

Sweetie blinked. “She’s sick?”

“No, no, no… just violent.” He gave Sweetie a considering look. “Going into M.O.D.D. looking like dat is not good idea. Costumers very violent group, you need armor. Brucie has something that might fit.”

Sweetie pondered for a moment. “This M.O.D.D. place, you said it was a bar, right?”

“A wretched hive of scum and villainy, da.”

Sweetie nodded. “So I need something threatening.” She smiled. “I think I have just the thing.”

o.0.o

The ‘Monkey o’ Dozen Den’, was the type of building Sweetie had only seen in Scootaloo’s comics, back home. It was a ramshackle, stinking pile of refuse that had been put together to somehow simulate a one-story building on top of a cliff, jutting above the discarded remains of several airships.

A faltering neon sign announced the name with as much pride as a place like that could muster, and it was clear that Bruce had not been exaggerating when he had shared his dismal opinion of the place.

There were a few patrons lying on the hard ground outside of the M.O.D.D., either passed out, or almost unconscious, lying in pools of their own bodily fluids and oil.

A few of the slightly sober ones gave her hateful glares that slowly deteriorated into confused stares. Some seemed scared, and others whimpered in disbelief, stealing glances from her to the empty bottles next to them, and back to her.

When she finally reached the door, she hesitated. ‘Brucie said that I had to be careful and fight if necessary. Don’t let them see any weakness. Don’t let them take advantage of anything and be ready to kick ass.’ She frowned. You’ve been to bars before, Sweetie, she admonished herself. ‘You’ll be fine.’

Nodding to herself, Sweetie took a deep breath and stepped past the swinging doors and into the bar.

The first thing she noticed was that it stank. It reeked, actually. She couldn’t quite place the aroma, but it was so offensive she almost gagged. Almost. However, she trudged on. The last pony’s location should be known to the barkeep, and honestly, she could use a beer. Even if it was in this place.

Creatures of all types were huddled together in small clusters, mostly by species, but one thing she noticed immediately was that every glance directed her way was full of hatred, and then confusion.

“Hey, hey, if it isn’t the glue stick!” A very drunk diamond dog drawled out, pushing himself away from his table and stumbling onto its feet. “Whatcha doin’ here, eh?” he started shambling towards her. “Can-can’t have enough, killin’ some of our best?”

Sweetie scrunched her nose at the fetid smell emanating from the dog’s muzzle. But instead of answering, and risking more exposure, she simply pushed past him.

“H-hey! Just because you’re using a metal armor and grew a horn don’t mean you can do as you want, glue stick!”

There was a sudden silence in the bar. It was even deeper than the one she had initially caused when she had walked into the M.O.D.D.

“Shit,” another dog swore, pulling his buddy back to stick his nose right in front of Sweetie’s face.
“It’s not Harmony! It’s a fuckin’ unicorn!”

“No!” Another dog slobbered. “She has metal wingsss!”

“It’s an armor, ya dimwit!” Another dog growled.

“How many silver stripes can you get for a unicorn horn in the market?”

“I don’t care! I bet her coat alone will fetch a good price!”

“I say we just rip her apart and eat her!”

Slowly, several patrons stood up. Large, hulking creatures, and several diamond dogs. Little green creatures she knew from having read about them in the library were goblins and even some overgrown racoons and a group of gryphons on the bar itself.

“It’s another pony!” Someone shouted, she wasn’t sure who, with the growing mass of bodies around her.

“They’re coming back! They destroyed the world and want to claim it!”

“I don’t want to claim anything!” Sweetie countered. “I want to find Harmony, that’s all. If any of you know where she is, tell me, and I’ll get going.”

“What makes you think you’ll be leaving alive, glue stick?” One of the larger creatures, an ogre, asked, using the back of its long arm to wipe away some drool.

Sweetie lowered herself a little, spreading her legs and casting a warning glare around as her horn began to glow. “I’m warning you, this will not end well if you fight me.”

“Daaaw,” one of the more stinky little goblins snorted. “We’re not gonna fight ya, we’re gonna kill ya!”

“I’ll deep-fry you and feed you to a dragon,” Sweetie threatened, earning a few chuckles from the patrons. She thought she could hear someone hollering for them to stop, but her attention was in the angry and hateful faces of the creatures surrounding her.

And yet, the group remained still for a moment, until two braver (or drunker) diamond dogs rushed at her. Their movements were a mess. Uncoordinated and impulsive. Predictable.

Instead of stepping back, Sweetie stepped in, sweeping around the first one, and combining a mild electric shock with a kick to the lower back, sending him stumbling and swearing into the bigger group, while the first one tried to slice at her armored head, only to find his claws dragging through the air when she was no longer there.

His eyes widened when Sweetie reappeared next to him, twirling her mane and somehow, in a move too quick to follow, his clothes were on fire.

There was a moment of stunned silence, which Sweetie hoped would be the end of it. But then several of them rushed at her, pushing aside tables and chairs to get to her.

Instincts kicking in, Sweetie’s horn flashed as she double-cast, activating her darkvision in time with her dome of darkness. Her telekinesis levitated the crushed chairs, shoving them into the faces of the ogres, or between their legs, making them stumble and fall.

She rolled to the side, gracefully standing and ignoring the few brawlers that slipped and crashed on the ice trail she had left behind. Her position shifted as she leaned down and followed the motion of a diamond dog keeping her back to his as they twirled in place, each tap of her hooves sending a flame or bolt into the body of another brawler, who would, in turn, punch in the direction where the blast had come from, slamming their fists and claws into the confused and terrified dog.

It didn’t take long for her impromptu, unknowing shield to pass out after a particularly vicious encounter with the ripped-off leg of a table, and Sweetie found herself facing the remainder of her opponents. All others had backed away, either waiting for the victor to emerge tired, or content to letting the fray occur without interference.

Allowing her magic to flow through her horn, she projected her voice to the last of the ogres. “You’ll never catch me alive, losers!”

The effect was immediate. The lone raccoon that had joined in howled and launched itself at the ogre, followed by two dogs and a goblin. They all piled up on him, completely oblivious to the fact that she was much smaller than an ogre and started pummeling on him and getting hit harder in return.

After a couple of seconds where her only worries were dodging flying teeth and splattering blood, Sweetie concentrated, creating a whirling bubble of wind in the midst of her opponents. With a burst of magic, it exploded, sending all five combatants flying through the air to crash on the floor, tables and other patrons, with the notable exception of the goblin, which literally flew through the roof.

Sweetie cantered to the center of the room, and, after making sure she looked nice, lifted her darkness spell, revealing the resulting carnage to all other patrons in the M.O.D.D.

The floor of the bar around her was scorched, covered in water, frozen and cracked, and all of her attackers were either unconscious or groaning in pain at her hooves, not even bothering to try and get up. She had dominated the fight in the most efficient manner possible, taking advantage of their ignorance and surprise to dismantle their attacks and take advantage of their weaknesses.

Sweetie looked up smugly, ensured that her show of skill had dissuaded further attempts at attacking her. She was therefore very surprised when another goblin, drunk and stinky threw himself on top of her, circling its arm around her neck, while two ogres tackled her to the floor. She barely had time to register what was happening before a boot was headed towards her face.

Sweetie raised the metal-clad forelegs, protecting herself from a broken muzzle. She managed to block the kick, but the strength behind it smashed her legs onto her face, not breaking anything, but still stunning her and making her see bright flashes for a second. Her eyes searched desperately for a way out, some way to slide between the increasingly heavy pile of bodies that kept landing on her.

She could feel someone trying to pry her armor off: her helm was being pulled in one direction, each metallic wing in another. Someone was tugging painfully at her tail... It was getting hard to breathe under so many heavy creatures. Something smacked against her protected withers, making her wince and earning a clang, another attempt and another followed. She tried futilely to use spells to counter them, but someone noticed her horn glowing, and a heavy blow on it sent lightning bolts of pain into her head, making her cry out in pain and fear.

Sweetie squirmed and pushed, but they had her pinned down. She could feel the warm, fetid smell of her attackers on the few areas of exposed skin that the armor didn't cover. Sweetie cried out a primal, incoherent call for help. She heard something chuckle evilly, saw a metal blade flash in the reflected light of the bar around her.

'This is how I die...' Sweetie thought, desperately gasping for air. 'In the soiled floor of a bar... like a common drunk. Blueblood and everypony else would be proud of me.' She almost chuckled through the pain. Couldn't even get a drink for myself, no wonder I'm not wanted.

Another kick and another thump. The pressure against her protected horn increased, and it felt to her like it was beginning to crack under the constant abuse. The thought of losing her magic terrified her even more than the promise pain by losing her horn. They would strip her of her very essence and make her feel that loss before they took her life and skinned her for cash. It would be like dying twice... but there would be no coming back, no reset to allow her to fix things, no chance to see Twilight or home ever again.

Sweetie closed her eyes and screamed again and again, through the kicks and punches and pressure until something even louder was heard.

The sound was very similar to the time that she had pushed Akela to the most extreme speed she could muster before sending it shooting out with all her power and had managed to fell a stone golem.

It was a loud bang; a cracking sound, akin—and yet so much more violent and deep than—the snap of a whip. Something warm splashed on her face, running down her closed eyelids and the side of her muzzle and was immediately followed by the horrified shout of one of her assailants. The attacks on her horn ceased immediately as the howls of pain increased in volume.

Quickly the pressure on top of her was relieved and Sweetie dared open her eyes, staring without comprehending at the ogre kneeling a few feet away from her, clutching its left ear and hollering in pain, eyes wide and wild. She scanned the faces of the drunk and beaten patrons of the M.O.D.D., following their gazes away from the brute and towards an imposing winged figure seating next to the bar.

A smoking object was pointed steadily at the group as the griffon smiled, golden eyes scanning everyone in front of her with disdain. "Anyone else wants to suck on some lead?" the griffon asked, her tone almost teasing.

She grinned humorlessly at the silence. "I thought as much. You all should know the glue stick is mine. I have work for the wannabe mule marshmallow and I don't want you losers to damage her for real before she gets me my strips."

The goblin that had thrown itself at Sweetie spat and cleaned his mouth with the back of his fore arm. "And since when do you own a unicorn? I think you're lying!"

The other patrons carefully stepped away from him, some even raising objects to clearly intercept any pieces of goblin that might be sent splattering, making him a bit more nervous than he already was, but thanks to either the alcohol or it being as stupid as it looked and sounded, the goblin stayed in place, gulping a little, but still bold enough to give the griffon a challenging look. "What claim or proof do you have to it? I say you let us to our prey instead of trying to steal it from us!"

That's when Sweetie remembered that she could talk. And not only that, the griffon in question was someone she was familiar with, even if they had never talked to each other. "G-gilda?" she gasped, recognizing the griffon from her visit to ponyville and more than one session of Rainbow Dash-worshiping-while-looking-at-old-pictures-of-her-with-Scootaloo.

There was a resounding lack of noise. Then, the goblin simply turned around and walked despondently to sit down and drink the first thing that he saw.

Gilda's eyes had widened slightly at the name, but her confident smirk never wavered. With an inclination of the head, she motioned for Sweetie Belle to join her at the bar.

o.0.o

In the bar, Gilda recognizes Sweetie Belle. Short conversation, she finds out that a group of trolls went out after Harmony. Gilda sends Sweetie with a couple of her crew to drop her off where Scoots was last seen.

o.0.o

The wind pushed ash and snow into the air along the road, blasting around the Last Pony as if were the Windigoes of old themselves trying to entrap her.

She didn't flinch at the biting cold or the howling winds, however. She was used to it, after all, it was the nature of the wasteland. After the moon had crashed, everything on the face of Equestria was pretty much the same.

Scootaloo slowly observed the area, trying to pinpoint the disturbance she had noticed earlier. It was not often that something was dropped around with such ruckus, and the beating of wings had made it sound like it could have been harpies. She didn't like harpies. They were noisy, stinky and deadly, except when they were hunting. Then they were just stinky and deadly.

Scanning the skies from her hiding spot, she narrowed her eyes, trying to see any sign of flying creatures between gusts of swirling ash, but there were none. She seemed to be alone, except for whatever it was that they had dropped.

Scootaloo made her way down the road, clinging to the shadows, and always ensuring something protected her from being seen from above until she reached her objective.

The unicorn in armor had been a young mare, roughly Scootaloo's current age, if she were to guess just from the size. Her body had been well preserved, probably by ice and snow and her armor. But just like all the others, she was gone. Maybe the armor had gotten the attention of the harpies, in which case she needed to hurry.

It was nothing like she had seen before, except perhaps on Luna's guard, although Luna didn't have any unicorns in her service, as far as Scootaloo recalled. It was inscribed with runes, and certainly worth a few good silver strips, but there was something more important to Scootaloo right now; she was running out of horns.

With absolute detachment, she pulled out her saw and other instruments, and glanced around once more. No harpies, yet. They must've gotten into a fight. Well, she wouldn't give up the opportunity to take it now.

She brushed the unusually-well-preserved mane out of the unicorn's face and settled the saw as close to the forehead as she could. She leaned down on it, pressing it against the horn. She hesitated when the unicorn moaned and shifted, then rearranged the saw and prepared to push down on it when it clicked on her.

Scootaloo dropped the saw and stepped back, eyes wide as the unicorn groaned and turned to lie on her stomach, revealing the wings on the back of the armor. Scootaloo's eyes widened when the unicorn pushed herself up and blinked, shaking her head and obviously trying to make sense of what was happening.

Scootaloo scrambled back, hooves sliding on the ashes and sending puffs of white dust around her. She fumbled, drawing out her rifle, and trying to load it unsuccessfully due to her shaking. "T-this isn't happening..."

The unicorn winced and rubbed her withers with her hoof, before looking up and locking eyes with Scootaloo.

They stared at each other until the unicorn's eyes widened. "Scootaloo?!"

“What the?!”

Scootaloo scrambled back away from the unicorn as she struggled to stand up.

“This can't be happening!” Scootaloo sputtered. “I'm the last pony! Nopony else survived! You can't be real!”

The armored unicorn groaned. “If I ever meet Gilda's crew I'll make sure she is the last of her species.”

Scootaloo started screaming.

The unicorn jumped, then stared at hear, saying something that Scootaloo couldn't understand because she couldn't hear her.

Scootaloo took another step back, and another, until she bumped onto a trashcan, and she hiccuped in surprise, causing her scream to end.

“Um... Scoots? Are you—”

She didn’t say anything to the unicorn, ignoring its ramblings. Everypony was dead. Only she had survived.

“Hey! Scoots, I'm talking to you, are you okay?”

Scootaloo turned around and galloped as fast as she could.

o.0.o

Sweetie stared in surprise at Scootaloo when her friend started galloping away. She looked down at herself, making a face when she saw her armor. “Maybe she didn't recognize me?”

Shaking her head, she set after her friend. “Scootaloo! Come on! Don't be like that!”

One thing she had to give to Scoots. She was fast, but Sweetie hadn't trained with the best spies, knights and... models... for nothing. Moving swiftly, she jumped past debris, used her I Quatri Elementi training to not lose momentum when going around corners and her magic to freeze the floor at her hooves and slide through certain areas,, such as under low-hanging pieces of metal or rocks.

She was cutting a lot of corners and giving chase like nopony's business. Hay, a changeling might only be faster because they would change into some sort of bird or something.

And still, Scootaloo was faster.

“Ugh, she's acting like I'm going to eat her!” Sweetie groaned, putting as much speed as she could into her legs. “At least I'm an adult, trying to catch her as a filly...” she muttered to herself before clenching her teeth and charging.

She could see Scootaloo up ahead reaching some sort of ship. [insert Harmony description]

The ship's entrance was already lowering for her friend, and Sweetie knew that if she was stuck outside, she wouldn't be able to make it in time.

Thinking fast, Sweetie cast more ice in front of her, then she jumped on it, sliding forth. She balanced onto her hind legs, and muttering a quick prayer to any Princess that might be listening, she opened her forelegs to the side and used her magic to spread the fake wings of her armor open... then blasted her back with a wind blast.

“Ooooh haaaaay nooooo!” She screached when the air bubble pushed her like a huge hoof against her back, faster and faster. Her eyes widened and she screeched as she created more and more ice desperately.

Scootaloo had barely made inside her ship when the door started to close behind her.

She wouldn't make it in time! Sweetie considered her options until something caught her eye. Gulping, she headed in that direction, blasting herself with wind spells more powerful than the last.

Forelegs flapping wildly, Sweetie propelled herself onto an outcropping and suddenly she was airborne. The feeling of her hooves leaving the ground made her shudder, but the fact that she was halfway there and the door was almost closed was more worrying.

“Dammit, Scootaloo!” She shouted, blasting herself once more with as much air as she could pump onto her back.

She crossed the remaining space within seconds, barely able to brace herself when she slammed onto the Harmony right above the entrance and slid down, landing painfully on the hangar's floor before the door behind her slammed shut.

She groaned and looked up in time to see Scootaloo running through another door and closing it behind her. “Ugh... if this is how she greets her friends, how does she react to strangers?”

o.0.o

Scootaloo slammed the metal door shut behind her, and turned. “Stupid. I let that thing in! Why didn't I shoot it?! It's in the Harmony now!”

She heard the metal-clad unicorn outside, it was calling for something, but Scootaloo didn’t care.

“Think, come on... think. I need to get rid of it, but I can't just waltz out and shoot it, I don't even know what type of creature that is!”

It was when the door handle tried to move that she pulled out her rifle and trained it on the door.

The creature outside banged on it, unable to open the metal door, or apparently burst through it, but Scootaloo was not going to bet her life on it.

She kept her rifle steady, waiting for the moment the creature pretending to be a pony would burst through and attack her. “Come on... make your move...” she whispered, waiting for the creature to break down the metallic door. It was only a matter of time before it tried to break it, right?

She waited and soon the banging stopped. Had the creature quit?

She strained her ears, trying to figure out what the creature was doing. It was rummaging outside.

Scootaloo gritted her teeth. “Come on! Stop going through my stuff! Let's get this over with!”

She heard a gasp.

A flash of light reflected from under the door, and some weird noises, as if the pon-creature were moving things carefully.

Scootaloo frowned. “What are you doing?” She muttered. “There's nothing out there you can use jus—”

She stopped, eyes wide when she heard a familiar sound.

o.0.o

Sweetie coughed and pushed herself up, wincing when her sides hurt. “That's going to leave a bruise...” she muttered. “I'm just glad I had the armor on...”

She looked around at the inside of the Harmony. There was something about it that was very, very... sad. It wasn't the way it was designed, it was the air about it. The way things were laid out. It was just... lonely.

“Scootaloo!” she called, slowly making her way to the door the pegasus had disappeared through. “Come on, Scoots! It's me, Sweetie Belle!”

When no response came, she tried to open the door, but it was locked, as expected. She listened quietly and thought that she could hear some muttering, but she couldn't make out what Scootaloo was saying.

“Scoots! Open the door!” she called, trying again to open it to no avail. “Come on, you can't be scared of me! I'm not some sort of monster!”

She banged the door with her hooves in frustration, before sighing and looking away. “What am I going to do with you? You don't even want to listen!”

Sweetie started walking about, trying to find some clue as to how to open the door without trying to break it down. There was not much around, a few books a few records...

“Huh, I wonder what sort of music Scoots likes to listen to?” Sweetie mused, making her way to the vinyl discs.

She picked one up with her magic and stared at it, gasping in surprise. “Is that—” She grinned. “This is so cool!”

Putting down the record, she summoned her book. After storing her armor away, she took out her bookmark and let it change into its full size. Picking up her cello, she carefully stood on her hind legs and looked down at the disc.

“Damn... I don't know any of those...” She thought for a moment, trying to figure out what sort of melodies they were, just from the title alone. “A bit somber, I think.” Sweetie hummed for a second, before her eyes lit up. “Okay, something simple then.”

She started playing, letting the music envelop her, and closing her eyes as she played for her friend, hoping that it would draw her out.

o.0.o

Scootaloo leaned against the wall, next to the door, listening intently. At first, she had suspected the creature had used one of her Octavia disks, but she didn't know the melody, and it was happier than most of Octavia's pieces.

It was clear that whatever it was, had not simply put one of her records for its own enjoyment. It was somehow playing the cello.

She listened in silence for a couple of minutes, before slowly putting her rifle down and taking a deep breath.

Her mind wandered over what had happened just earlier, and through muddled and panicked thoughts, some of the things the creature had shouted at her finally made their way through her confusion.

“Hey! Scoots, I'm talking to you, are you okay?”

“How did it know my name?” Scootaloo wondered. “Even if it had heard of me, it should call me Harmony, or glue stick. Everyone else does.”

“If I ever meet Gilda's crew I'll make sure she is the last of her species.”

“Come on, Scoots! It's me, Sweetie Belle!”

Scootaloo's eyes widened. The music played soft and comforting past the metal door and walls behind her. “It's impossible.”

She shook her head. “It's impossible,” she repeated. “She's gone, just like everypony else. I'm the last one. She couldn't have survived.”

And yet. And yet there she was. The more she thought about it, the pony under the armor had looked familiar. She hadn't given it a second thought, but now...

The music was what made her pause. It was beautiful. Unique, something that felt like the past, and she had never heard before. It was... it was fun.

“Don't do this to yourself... don't...” she muttered, curling up. “Please.”

And yet, the images came. Running through Ponyville trying to get their own cutie marks.

Laughing.

Flying.

Rainbow Dash.

Sweetie Belle.

Apple Bloom.

Everypony she had only been able to see again thanks to Spike, if only briefly. But this was not the same as being herself as an adult back when... this was... innocence.

Scootaloo pushed herself up from the floor and took hold of her rifle. Slowly, she opened the door and pointed her gun through it, keeping it steady.

She was much calmer now, able to think rationally. But that didn't mean she would let her guard down.

She carefully made her way out, trusting her instincts to know the mysterious creature's location. There was no way it was really Sweetie Belle, but it somehow knew about her.

Her sight finally rested on the pony-like creature. It had taken its armor off, and now stood, on its hind legs, playing a cello it had produced from [gods]-know-where.

The creature was clearly not normal. It's fur had a certain quality to it, as if there were some inner glow that the rest of the world, including Scootaloo, were somehow missing.

Scootaloo shifted forward, maintaining her guard and sat down across from the creature, setting her rifle on the table so she wouldn't have to carry all it's weight, but keeping it trained on the creature in front of her as it played.

It was clear that it was lost in the music. It's eyes hadn't opened when Scootaloo had come out, and it swayed and moved its head in tune with her playing.

It had taken the armor off, as well. Underneath it, the creature looked like a normal young mare would have looked back when there were ponies around. Her coat was white, and her mane was purple and pink, just like Sweetie's had been.

Scootaloo's eyes strayed to the unicorn's flank and she narrowed her eyes when she noticed the cutie-mark.

Still, she said nothing, waiting for the unicorn to finish.

o.0.o

Sweetie Belle drew her bow through the strings one last time before sighing and letting her arm fall to the side.

Everything was quiet for a moment, until Scootaloo spoke up, snapping Sweetie out of her reverie.

“What are you? Some sort of Changeling?” She asked, making it clear by the tightening on her rifle that she was not in a joking mood. “And how did you know my name? Did Gilda put you up to this? Because it's not funny.”

Sweetie Belle carefully put away the cello and bow into a case, before closing it and turning to face Scootaloo.

“Um... no, I'm not a changeling,” she said, looking at Scootaloo with a small smile. “It's really me, Sweetie Belle.”

“That's not true,” Scootaloo growled. “Sweetie Belle is dead. Apple Bloom is dead. Babs is dead. All Crusaders are dead, except me.” She lifted her rifle. “Tell me the truth!”

“I am Sweetie!” she insisted. “Just... from another place and time.”

Scootaloo raised an eyebrow and Sweetie took it as a sign to continue.

“I'm traveling through time and space, that's why I'm here when the local Sweetie...” she sighed, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “I know it sounds crazy, but I'm really me. Just not the me from here.”

Scootaloo snorted. “At least you sound like her, completely confused.”

“Hey! I'm a smart pony!”

“So you say.”

They looked at each other for a moment, before Scootaloo lowered her gun and rubbed her temple. “This is just—” she shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

Sweetie's stomach grumbled. “Uh... maybe you have something to eat?”

o.0.o

o.0.o

Scootaloo watched Sweetie Belle close her book, frowning and muttering to herself.

Whatever she had written there was clearly not much of a comfort for the young mare.

To be fair, Scootaloo herself had really not written anything at all in her own, only a recount of her findings that day, and little else, but the scribbling had helped ease her mind a little, and bring her thoughts to order. Her mind was still reeling from encountering her old friend again, and whether she was really her friend or a changeling pretending to be her.

Having never seen a changeling herself, it was hard to guess. But so far, unless it was incredibly subtle, there had been no action that might have given it away. For all she knew, this really was Sweetie Belle.

Which still didn't make any sense.

Was she a time-traveler as well? But why hadn't she assumed an enthropic form then? She eyed her guest as Sweetie slumped down on the makeshift bed she had set up with several rags and such, casting some sort of spell to clean them up.

Scootaloo's eyebrow rose at that. She had had a white blanket all this time?

Sweetie didn't seem to care much about whether Scootaloo would shoot her in her sleep, because, with a disgruntled mutter, she laid down her head and soon was snoring softly, chest rising and falling calmly.

Scootaloo shook her head. This Sweetie Belle could not have been from this time and place. She would have never been able to survive if she slept so soundly.

At least her being silent and asleep gave Scootaloo a chance to think without being disturbed.

How much could she trust this unicorn claiming to be Sweetie Belle? Sure, she did look like her old friend would had she had the chance to grow up... it was odd for her to trust this quickly, and not simply dismiss this as a trick. But there was something about Sweetie Belle.

It could have been her eyes, honest and actually glad to see Scootaloo. It could have been that it was simply a unicorn, and Scootaloo hadn't seen any other ponies in such a long time... perhaps just the fact that it looked like a pony, even if it was a changeling, had broken down her defenses.

Or maybe... maybe it was that glow around her. Something that was otherwise missing in this world. She had noticed it earlier, despite her surprise and panic. Sweetie had an otherworldly quality to her that she could only find in the past with Spike's aid.

Her eyes rose to the rusted, metallic ceiling of the Harmony. Could it be... that Sweetie had somehow been thrown forward in time? Was it destiny to find her here?

No. Sweetie had mentioned Gilda. What did she have to do with it? Was the gryphon playing some sort of sick game? She would be the type to send a changeling after Scootaloo to mess with her an— no. Gilda was a lot of things, but this was beyond what she would stoop.

Scootaloo's eyes strayed down from the ceiling and to a small bottle she had carefully placed on the counter before straying out to scavenge for more treasures.

She stared at it silently, looking from it to the sleeping unicorn and back. Wouldn't that be ironic? She snorted and smiled slightly as the idea played in her mind.

Then she paused. “But what if...” she whispered, letting her thoughts trail off for a moment.

Her eyes narrowed and she nodded. There was only one thing to do. And if this Sweetie Belle proved to be fake... well, she would have to pay the consequences.

Whatever happened, Sweetie Belle would not get away without answering plenty of questions. But it wouldn't be Scootaloo alone asking them.

o.0.o

(scene to be moved up to Gilda and Sweetie)

Sweetie sat gingerly next to Gilda at the bar, wincing a little due to her bruises and well-aware of the looks other patrons at the Monkey O' Dozen were giving her.

Gilda growled under her breath and glanced at some of her followers. Soon, there was a small clear area around them, letting them speak in very relative privacy.

“How do you know me?” Gilda whispered harshly, somehow maintaining her composure.

Sweetie could tell the gryphon was bothered however, by the slight ruffle of her feathers and the sense that she was about to pound on her and tear her apart any second now.

“Y-you might not remember me, but I was a filly when you went to visit Rainbow Dash in Pony—”

Gilda cut her off with a glare. “That place is gone.”

Sweetie was silent for a moment. “I gathered.” She nodded towards the door. “There's not much left out there. Is Harmony really the last pony?”

Gilda snorted and downed her drink, motioning for a baboon to serve her another.

Sweetie remained silent when he approached, giving her a very curious look. He opened his mouth to speak, but Gilda growled, making him scuttle away quickly.

Once they were alone, Gilda shook her head. “Apparently not. Unless you're some sort of elaborate prank.” She took a swig of alcohol. “But you smell like a pony. And you can't be. All of them stupid glue-sticks are gone. Except for Harmony.”

“I... I was away.” Sweetie said softly. “Very far away.”

“Wherever you went they should have taught you to fight better than you did.”

“I'm not a fighter,” Sweetie complained, raising her voice. “Besides in a fair fight—”

Gilda rolled her eyes and smacked the back of Sweetie's head so hard she almost slammed her head on the bar.

The griffons around them sneered and more than one patron croaked a laugh.

“Hey!”

Gilda shook her head and put a foreleg around Sweetie's shoulder, pulling her uncomfortably close.

Sweetie could smell not only what passed for liquor here, but also whatever it was that Gilda had eaten that day. She tried to pull away, but Gilda's grip was like steel.

This time her voice was not low.

“Listen, candy mane,” she grinned maliciously. “I'm going to do you a favor, only the one, favor and tell it to you straight: There are no fair fights here. Ever. You shouldn't have brought your fancy tricks unless they included explosions, fireballs or lightning.” Her claws dragged against Sweetie's armor. “If you don't have any of those, you should have brought a gun or something that can blow someone's brains out. Next time, you'll either heed my advice or I'll let these... guys... take care of you.”

A few patrons laughed and other cheered, looking at Sweetie Belle almost hungrily.

“So,” Gilda laughed. “What do you have to say, marshmallow? Do you have any of those?”

“Wait.” Sweetie raised a hoof. “You mean to say I could have blasted someone's brain out with my fireball spell, or electrocuted that guy over there...” she pointed at an ogre. “Until his brains ooze from his ears and I wouldn't get in trouble?”

Sweetie looked around the room.

“So... I could levitate the raccoon, smash him through the table, then use them both to pummel the goblin into a pulp and no-one would say anything? I mean... so, I can split the floor in half and watch everyone without wings or magic fall down the mountain and I would get respect?

Sweetie's eyes went wide. “Hey! So, what happens if I use your shot glass and use it to spear through the Diamond Dog? Or tie everyone's necks together to two ships and make one fall from the sky? What do you use to make it float? Hydrogen? That thing lights up like the sun!”

She was starting to really get into it. “Or-or imagine if I got everyone's guns out, and pointed at each of their owners and shot at the same time?”

The whole room had gone completely quiet, all patrons staring at Sweetie as if she had grown another head.

Gilda slowly closed her slightly open beak. “I think you've had too much to drink, marshmallow.” She pushed Sweetie away from the bar.

“Aww! But I was just starting to get into it!” Sweetie whinnied.

“Yes, and that is the problem,” Gilda muttered, motioning with her head for her crew to follow. “Let's go to my ship, and we can talk there.”

The group stepped out of the silent bar, the patrons giving them a much wider berth than usual.

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Author's Note: This is as far as Skirts and I got through writing. There was originally a plan for Sweetie to have a dark side to her, and this was one of the instances where it would start emerging.

After a bit of discussion, Sweetie was to meet with Spike, and eventually travel to the past, where she was to meet with the CMCs and Harmony. Sharing some of the time-traveling experiences.

Harmony and Sweetie travel for a little while together while the story of what happened is retold to Sweetie, who although happy to see her friend is still in a much darker and despairing mood due to her evil side starting to dominate her personality.

They get a message from the Diamond Dogs, if they want Bruce to live, they must get for them a mysterious purple flame that recently appeared in some ruins (place to be decided) which leads them to Twilight’s fragment at the center of it.

Sweetie then has to decide whether to leave Bruce to die and turn her back on Harmony, or cling to hope, like her friend, and rescue the squirrel... Sweetie doesn’t want to, but Harmony forces her to help if she wants to carry on.

Sweetie embraces Harmony's words and rescues Bruce, with the Fragment being absorbed shortly after. She bids her friend goodbye in this world, hoping that Harmony will achieve her mission... and save everypony.

The pair rescue the Squirrel, which leaves Sweetie with mixed feelings of happiness and relief as well as anger and indifference. Harmony’s last piece of advice before Sweetie leaves is to remember the happy days and hope that they can return. Sweetie leaves, not knowing whether to laugh or cry as one of her best friends is left behind, the last of her kind.

Comments

[KMCA]

The best part about Sweetie's little tirade of destruction is that I can hear it in her voice, cheerfully listing off the death and destruction.
Yeah, I'd go quiet too.

[tsaukpaetra]

"wait, you mean I wouldn't have gotten in trouble?!? Well why didn't you say so!" *initiates murder*

[RoboRed]

The End of Ponies was one of the earliest, earliest stories that I read when I got into the fandom and still one of my top favorites. I remember way back when you said that Sweetie Chronicles would be crossing over with it next I was really excited (dang was that like a decade ago now?). I was especially interested to see how Scootaloo would react to encountering another living pony in present time, particularly one of her foalhood friends.

...Well, then there were the long delays and crossovers into other universes in the meantime, Skirts never published out an official continuation and the story went from hiatus to cancelled, and that crossover never materialized.

...Until now, anyways. I'm happy to at least see what you two had put together with what you had. Skirts eventually put some closure on EoP with explaining the story plans and ending in a stream a few years ago, and now there's closure here. Thank you for sharing this.

center]o.0.oIn the bar, Gilda recognizes Sweetie Belle. Short conversation, she finds out that a group of trolls went out after Harmony. Gilda sends Sweetie with a couple of her crew to drop her off where Scoots was last seen.

I don't know if you plan to fix it since this is a scrap/summary but there's a broken tag here.

[harts fire]

awesome chapter.

[My name is R]

When she finally reached the door, she hesitated. ‘Brucie said that I had to be careful and fight if necessary. Don’t let them see any weakness. Don’t let them take advantage of anything and be ready to kick ass.’ She frowned. You’ve been to bars before, Sweetie, she admonished herself. ‘You’ll be fine.’

I doubt barhopping through Canterlot with Blueblood is even close to preparation for this. The Wastelands would be a more apt comparison.

Her eyes rose to the rusted, metallic ceiling of the Harmony. Could it be... that Sweetie had somehow been thrown forward in time? Was it destiny to find her here?
No. Sweetie had mentioned Gilda. What did she have to do with it? Was the gryphon playing some sort of sick game?

Technically, she could have been thrown forward to a week or so ago. After all, that's basically what happened. She didn't appear right on top of you, she had to go find you.

You shouldn't have brought your fancy tricks unless they included explosions, fireballs or lightning.” Her claws dragged against Sweetie's armor. “If you don't have any of those, you should have brought a gun or something that can blow someone's brains out.

Sweetie's not incapable of killing, so much as unwilling. She did win round one after all. And I wouldn't be surprised if some of those attackers died dispite her playing nice.

So, is this canon that just never got fully written, or non-canon?

Also, I've really been enjoying this story. Haven't been commenting thus far since there's already so many, but I really like it.