Living in Equestria proves to be more dangerous for Second Chance than she could've possibly imagined. Now an old enemy has followed her from an Earth destroyed by war. Can she save Equestria from suffering the same fate?
A year has passed since Second Chance arrived in Equestria. She has a loving adoptive family, one of the best teachers of magic in Equestria, and some fantastic new friends. Compared to a world destroyed by war, her new life seems like a paradise.
Unfortunately for her, Equestria isn't as safe as it sometimes looks. It has its own dangers; powerful evils that won't spare her just because she came from Earth. Between human dangers and natural ones, Equestria's ponies may not survive.
As usual, editing by Two Bit and Sparktail, with art by the talented Zutcha (who's got a Patreon now, if you're feeling generous!)
Second Chance looked upon the vastness of the great ruin and almost lost her breath. Massive lengths of stone rose at odd angles, each one as thick as the Golden Oak Library and coated with mossy growth. The ancient stone surrounded her and her fellow explorers, casting strange geometric shadows on the grass.
“You think it’s much further?” Sweetie Belle’s voice echoed strangely through the stone, her question splitting into a dozen different choruses. The unicorn was dressed much as Chance herself, in thick cloth and sturdy saddlebags that would resist spilling their contents.
Apple Bloom was the first to answer, though she stood out from the other fillies about as much as anypony could. Thin metal supports ran along her spine and down each of her legs, her body wrapped in soft padding but also tied tight into the exoskeleton.
Her new exoskeleton was made from polished aluminum, with slim motors and servos worked seamlessly into the construction. Instead of an awkward heating coil it had only a little blue tank on the back, albeit a tank covered with explosion hazard stickers.
Apple Bloom walked with none of the weariness her friends seemed to show, practically bouncing as the servos did most of the work. Of course, it was hard to see where the earth pony magic ended and the machine began. Both could’ve explained her endurance. Chance, on the other hand, was quite certain her cheerfulness came from the cutie mark on her flank, the apple-shaped gear and wrench that only hinted at the intellect underneath. “Shouldn’t be much further.” She gestured up with one hoof, and the metal moved right along with her body. “We have to be near the center by now, right?”
Chance walked a little slower than the others, levitating her rugged little tablet in faint gray magic. She saw the formation from the air, position calculated thanks to Scootaloo's valiant effort in the little airship that was even now soaring above the ruins. “Only thirty meters this way.” Chance flicked her tail, correcting their path.
“Thirty meters,” Sweetie Belle echoed, her steps slowing a little so that she shoved Chance’s shoulder with her flank. “If you’re wrong, I want the rest of what’s in your canteen.”
Chance answered by twisting sideways, flicking her saddlebags open. “Take it anyway. I don’t need it as bad.” There was no water around them, no streams or rivers that might’ve given them relief. Still, she was a little more active than Sweetie Belle. Twilight’s chores had made sure of that.
Something shimmered green and her last canteen emerged, levitating the short distance towards her friend. Sweetie might not be nearly as good with her magic as Chance, but at least she could handle basic unicorn levitation. Without the strength of earth ponies or the coordination of the pegasi, a little magic made life much easier.
“What are we lookin’ for, exactly?” Apple Bloom didn’t sound thirsty, servos grinding cheerfully as she cantered in the direction Chance had pointed.
Sweetie capped the canteen, returning the empty plastic to its place. She answered before Chance could. “A powerful Precursor artifact, obviously. Didn’t Truth say it—”
Apple Bloom cut her off, sounding annoyed. “I don’t mean why are we here, I mean what are we looking for here?” She gestured all around her. “Is the artifact right here on the ground?”
Chance shrugged, trying to remember what Twilight Sparkle had told her about the place. She didn’t remember, but fortunately, she wasn’t restricted to purely biological memory anymore. “Let me check.”
She stopped, letting her eyes lose focus. After having her implants for months now, she had plenty of practice getting used to the way she had to unfocus her mind, calling upon the command interface.
Ready. The text appeared along with a voice, faint and obviously artificial. Military strains like her Neuroboost were capable of far more, such as overlaying her entire world with tactical information, or creating false-color projections for targets concealed by active camouflage.
Chance didn’t say the command out loud, though novice users often had no other choice. She might be new to using this strain as a pony, but she had used Neuroboost for her entire adult life. It wasn’t that hard to remember how. Activate sensory recall, sound and projected image only.
Input time or record flag.
Flag: Twilight’s Precursor Ruin Lecture
Command accepted. You may use the cancel command to suspend playback at any time, or the exit command to return to the main command interface.
“Chance?” She heard Sweetie Belle from beside her, and realized both of them were staring at her.
“She’s doing it again.” Apple Bloom suppressed a giggle, though the effort seemed to be a little bit of a strain for her. “Just let her finish.”
Chance ignored them both, as a large screen appeared in the air atop their faces. It depicted the world exactly as she had seen it the moment she had activated the sensory recording. Twilight’s lab formed in the air, with soft wooden walls and the faint sound of distant machinery.
The massive bulk of Truth the OMICRON Core rested against one wall, his surface always illuminated with a faint glow now that his power didn’t depend on coal. Thick shelves had been erected along the entire wall, each cubby marked off with a different element or compound. Many were filled, stacked high with metal ingots or carefully wrapped packages. A few had stranger things, sensors or microprocessors Truth had made but not needed to use.
Twilight stood by her desk, surrounded by books. There was a map on the table in front of her, which she gestured to several times as she spoke. Twilight Sparkle had changed far less than Chance had over the last few months. She hadn’t grown an inch taller, nor had her fur lost any of its luster or its color. Twilight was, after all, a near-immortal Alicorn. “The Starlight Flower was discovered in—”
Fast forward ten minutes.
Light moved along the floor as Twilight gesticulated wildly, waving her hooves about in the air. Another second, and her voice returned to normal. “Despite the stories, nopony’s ever been able to find their way in. The stone resists magic, so even unicorn explorers weren’t able to teleport inside.”
Chance watched the view droop from the screen, filling with bright green limbs and a wooden floor. “So there’s no chance we could get in?”
Twilight shook her head. “No chance at all, my little apprentice.” She levitated a book off the table, for Chance to see. A strange circular pattern had been sketched there, in Twilight’s hoofwriting. The words were not Equestrian upon the edge of the circle, nor were they English. Even so, Chance could read them. She bit back her excitement, forcing her eyes back to her hooves.
It worked; her teacher didn’t even seem to notice the brief surge of recognition on her student’s face. “I visited with Rainbow a few months before you came to Equestria. She had really enjoyed spending time with Daring Do, and thought maybe she could make a few discoveries of her own…”
Chance saw something strange on Twilight’s face as she reviewed the memory, and smelled something different too. Probably would’ve been more familiar if she had still been human. “We couldn’t get in. Spent three whole days out there.” She gestured to the drawing. “I tried just about every spell there is, including a few destructive unmaking spells. Nothing worked.”
She closed the book, setting it down on the desk and rising to her hooves. “That’s why I think it’s a perfect first destination for your little crusade. Less than a day away, without any danger of you actually getting in.”
Chance couldn’t feel her ears droop, but she remembered the way they had, the way Twilight’s words had sucked the enthusiasm from her. Her guardian seemed to notice too, because the virtual screen filled with lavender coat and feathers.
“Don’t think of it like a failure! It’s an opportunity to be responsible, particularly with your friends. If you’d seen some of the things they’d tried…” Twilight shook her head, and the tight hug ended.
“But we might get in!” Chance heard her own voice insist. Unlike other videos or recordings of herself, it didn’t sound strange to her. It was, rather, her own voice exactly as she heard it. “It’s not impossible! And if we get in… there’s a human artifact inside!”
Twilight smiled sadly. “Some ponies think the Starlight Flower is a Precursor artifact. There are other theories too, though. Some ponies think the whole thing was made by Alicorns. After… some of the things I’ve learned, I think the latter group are probably closer.” She gestured towards Truth. “Humans were never much for magic, but the whole place radiates it. You’ll sense it when you visit… the stone that made the thing feels like a conjuration spell, which might be why—” She stopped, gazing pointedly at Chance.
Her own voice answered with a bored, rote recitation. “The third law of magic—the cost of modifying a spell cast by another is the factorial of the variance between the caster’s nimbus and your own.” Chance rolled her eyes, creating a brief blurring on the screen.
“Yes!” Twilight beamed. “Don’t underestimate the fundamentals, Chance. Ponies who master the laws soon master the universe.” She stopped, looking expectant. Chance didn’t answer, forcing Twilight to continue: “Taken from Thaumic Philosophy Volume One, written by…”
“Starswirl.” Chance groaned. “Obviously. Even Sweetie Belle knows he wrote the laws.”
“Discovered the laws,” Twilight corrected. “Ponies don’t write natural laws.”
Truth spoke from the wall, though his voice carried well. The OMICRON Core could do strange things with sound as its intellect grew, bending the waves around objects and making them echo from nearly anything in its presence. “That statement is not entirely accurate, user Twilight Sparkle.”
End Playback. The screen and phantom sound vanished from around her, as abruptly as they had come. She didn’t need to listen to Truth debate philosophy with her mentor. The OMICRON Core seemed to take perverse pleasure in debates with her teacher, though Chance couldn’t imagine why. She was grateful it didn’t give her such a hard time.
It was hard to judge exactly how much time had passed. The Neuroboost could rapidly increase the speed of thought when it was called upon to do so, though no organic brain could tolerate it for long. The implants knew these tolerances, and would never risk user damage.
Her friends had spread a blanket on the ground, though the dirt was already mostly clear and the growth here short enough that it didn’t interfere.
There was a plate on the ground between them, empty except for a single sandwich. “Where’d you two get this?” She walked up to the edge of the blanket, looking between her friends to the plate and back again.
Apple Bloom grinned. She hadn’t removed the exoskeleton, but it didn’t stop her from sitting on her haunches and grinning proudly up at Chance. “Apple sandwiches! Granny made ‘em for us! This one’s yours!” She pushed the plate towards her.
“You set up lunch?” Chance didn’t sit down, not with their time so limited. She did levitate the sandwich up to her muzzle, sniffing at it. It did smell like apples, though not as much as she had feared.
Chance bit into the dark, crunchy bread. The vegetables were so thick inside that she almost couldn’t close her mouth on it, all fresh and juicy enough they practically gushed. The apple proved to be the faint sweetness of apple butter, tying the whole thing together but not overwhelming it as the whole chunks of apple Chance had expected.
Even after nearly a year in Equestria, Chance was still having trouble getting used to the food. If her friends never tasted algae crackers, Chance would count them lucky.
“We never know how long you’ll take when you get like that,” Sweetie Belle squeaked. She had already eaten her sandwich.
Chance blushed, hiding her face in the sandwich. Eventually she answered, swallowing another delicious mouthful. “I went over everything Twilight told me, but… I didn’t take notes like I should’ve. You girls probably know how long-winded she can be…”
Apple Bloom nodded sympathetically. “Yeah. Must not be easy to be learnin’ all the time, on top’a all the learnin’ we do at school.”
“I don’t mind.” Chance looked down at her hooves. “Back where I come from, I’m used to being able to learn something as soon as I want to know it. Just ask a computer, and it’ll tell you everything there is to know. Equestria doesn’t have those, but Twilight’s kinda like one.” She walked past her friends, setting the rest of her sandwich back on the plate as she passed.
“Where are you—” Sweetie Belle hurried after her. “Chance, we’re not in that much of a hurry. We can finish lunch!”
“We have to be back in Ponyville by nightfall.” Chance glanced briefly at the tablet again, and the clock in the corner. “It’s a three hour flight back. It took an hour to hike here, so… we only have another hour before we have to go. No more waiting.”
“Really?” Apple Bloom hurried up beside her, wiping her face with the back of one hoof. There was impressive dexterity in her and the exoskeleton both, to allow such fine motor control. “Guess we better find this artifact thing!”
“Starlight Flower,” Chance muttered, stopping on the edge of the carved circle.
“Yeah, that.” Apple Bloom took a few moments of brushing with hooves and tail to clear the dirt and dust from the raised circle of carved stone, revealing the design beneath.
The center of the circle had a stylized moon, or maybe a squashed eye. Many stars dotted the space around it, melting gradually into words. Chance grinned, walking around the circle and muttering to herself as she read the largest writing, furthest from the center. “Contra vim mortis non crescit herba in hortis.” Her smile widened a little. “Glad Truth didn’t hear that, probably screwed up the pronunciation pretty bad.”
Her friends both stared, uncomprehending. “What does that mean?” Apple Bloom already looked like she was running out of patience.
Chance’s smile faltered a little. “I think this thing is a seal. Lots of old seals have their mottos on the outside, right? See anything familiar about the symbols?”
The other unicorn filly leaned in close, so close her eyes were only a hoof or so away from the surface. “Is it… the language your ponies use? The symbols look familiar!”
“The symbols are familiar. But the language is different. Latin is thousands of years older than Federation Common.”
Apple Bloom didn’t look any more satisfied. “What’s the motto say?”
Chance’s throat constricted a little, and she had to take a big breath before she could answer. “Loosely translated, it says… ‘No matter how hard you look, you can’t find a cure for death.’”
“It does look like Luna’s cutie mark in the middle.” Apple Bloom gestured, then looked back up at Chance. “Did you ask her about this place before coming out with us?”
Chance winced, then shook her head. “I didn’t know! I don’t see her every night anymore, so I try not to bother her with little things.” She reached out, scratching at the seal with one of her hooves. Well, she tried to, anyway.
Her hoof couldn’t even clear the space above the seal before striking something solid in the air. A shimmering field of blue energy flickered there, rippling up into the sky.
“Well.” Apple Bloom glared at the field. “That’s gonna give us trouble.” She turned, exoskeleton whirring and hissing as she braced herself on the ground. Spikes exploded out the side of her forehooves, anchoring her into the ground.
“I don’t think that’s gonna work.” Chance’s voice was matter-of-fact. “My mom said a shield like this held off a whole changeling invasion for days. Just one pony isn’t enough.”
“We’ll see.” Apple Bloom leaned back, then bucked with all her might. Metal strained as her hooves slammed into the surface of the shield. Blue energy filled the sky in a wide blue cylinder that continued to glow for nearly a minute after the little earth pony dropped sideways to the ground and clutched at apparently pained hooves.
“Well, that sucks.” Chance looked around the shield, brushing away the dirt near her, but couldn’t find any switches or obvious runes to break. “I don’t suppose you know any shield counterspells, Sweetie.”
“One.” The filly looked nervous, shuffling uneasily on her hooves. “I mean… I’ve heard about one way. It’s not a spell exactly, but…”
“Wait, you know a way in?” Apple Bloom looked doubtful.
“Hey, I’m a unicorn too!” She stomped one hoof, and seemed to grow a little more confident. “It’s not a spell, but… all these shields work the same. They’re only made to protect ponies, so they can respond to the way ponies around them feel. If everypony feels good, like safe and stuff… they’ll turn off. At least… that’s how the one in Rarity’s safe works…”
Chance’s eyes widened, and she found herself suddenly not wanting to know what occasion had taught Sweetie Belle this information.
“Is that useful?” Apple Bloom’s expression was unchanged. “We’re runnin’ out a time, we’re somewhere strange and a little bit scary. We’re not gonna be able to just make ourselves feel good just cuz we want to!”
Again, it was Sweetie Belle who answered. “Well, that depends. You girls feel like a song?”
Chance grinned, moving a little closer so she could hear better. Chance had been singing with Sweetie Belle for over a year now, as part of the Jr. Ponytones. They didn’t perform as often and their sets were never as ambitious, but it didn’t matter. Hearing Sweetie Belle sing was always a treat.
“Thank goodness Scootaloo is flying,” Chance whispered, gesturing for Apple Bloom to get closer too. She didn’t really understand how the magic worked, not like Sweetie Belle. She couldn’t start it like the other unicorn could. Once Sweetie actually started singing, it didn’t matter.
Her voice was clear as she sang, echoing around the strange stone pillars. Chance didn’t know the words of the song she had chosen, some kind of folk lullaby. After a few bars, she found they came anyway. Apple Bloom joined in, harmonizing with them and visibly relaxing with the words.
Even after experiencing this strange magic half a dozen times, it felt alien. She knew how to move, she knew what to say, and she felt the calm filling her.
Eventually the song ended, leaving all three of them a little sleepy since that was its intention. Nevertheless, Sweetie Belle leaned forward with one hoof, and nothing stopped her. Her tired eyes grew proud. “See? That… wasn’t so hard.”
Apple Bloom nodded. “Ah forget you can do that.” She leaned to one side, glancing at Sweetie’s rump. “Seems like you should’ve earned that cutie mark a’ yours by now.”
“Yeah.” Her ears drooped a little.
“Let’s… try to stay relaxed.” Chance crossed the shield, walking onto the now unprotected carving. “How long will the shield stay down?”
“Few hours?” Sweetie shrugged. “It would probably take a unicorn to reset it if they wanted it back sooner.”
“Well, the ones who built this place would’ve needed a way in.” Chance stared down. ”Since this is the only opening, and…” She gestured up at the massive stone pillars above them, growing at their strange angles. “There aren’t any markings on those, it’s got to be here. I figure it’s probably an elevator. We switch it on, and it’ll take us down into the ruins.”
“Makes sense.” Sweetie Belle walked onto the center of the carved circle, sitting down on her haunches. “Let’s go!”
Chance blushed. “I don’t… I’m not completely sure about how to get in. But I’m sure it’s on here!”
“I’ma finish mah sandwich.” Apple Bloom turned, walking slowly away. “I’ll help when I’m done.”
Chance called upon the pattern-recognition in her Neuroboost, soaking in every inch of the carved circle. There was more Latin here, woven delicately into the carving.
The Latin was fairly simple, and she translated to herself even as she read. “The infinite stars shine forever. Should one fall, the sky will not be poorer long, for there remain as many as before.” Around what might’ve been Luna’s cutie mark were near-endless stars, though their positions didn’t seem to matter.
Chance scanned the stone with her tablet, and learned it was stone. She sent a radio ping through with the help of her Neuroboost on as many frequencies as she had, without effect. She even tried the ‘mage sight’ spell Twilight had taught her. In the vision her horn gave her, she saw a faint shimmer around all the stone, indicating they were magical somehow. If they were part of a spell though, the nimbus that radiated from it was far too weak to read.
In the end, it was not Chance who solved the riddle. It was, rather, Scootaloo.
The little pegasus’s voice came in over the radio clipped onto Apple Bloom’s exoskeleton, sounding bored. “Hey, did you ponies figure it out yet?”
Apple Bloom whimpered, twisting around to speak into the radio. It was a small device, about the size of a hoof but curved into an oval. The back had a clip, and the front had only a grill to permit sound to enter and escape. Primitive it might be, but it was also one of the most advanced radios in Equestria.
There were perhaps two more advanced, one running all the way to the top of the Golden Oak Library, and the other strung into the rigging of their airship.
Apple Bloom sounded as embarrassed as Chance felt. “We’re working on it! We think we found the entrance, but… we haven’t found a way to get it open yet!”
Scootaloo’s voice dropped into a low mutter. “Horseapples!”
“Huh?”
Their friend ignored the question. “Truth just called. He said right about now you’re running out of time and you won’t be in yet. He said…” She groaned. “He said he saw Twilight’s drawings. The answer is Aleph-null.”
Chance’s eyes lit up. She dug into her saddlebags, removing the knife folded there and flicking it open.
“What? Apple Bloom looked between Chance and the radio, confusion growing. “What the hay is that?”
Sweetie shrugged.
The stone had already proven itself unyielding under their attack. None of her magic had been able to cut it. Still, Chance hadn’t ever tried to trace a pattern between the stars before. She searched, and her pattern-recognizing Neuroboost highlighted the ones already grouped into the shape she would need. Chance lowered the knife, and found the blade sank nearly a full centimeter without resistance. She drew, tracing a letter not all that dissimilar to a capital N, and the zero beside it.
“Please tell me it didn’t work.” Scootaloo’s voice sounded annoyed. “If Truth really figured it out before us, we’re gonna be hearing about this for a week.”
As if the ruins heard her, a deep groan came from beneath them, as the ancient stones ground against each other.
“Sorry Scoots.” Apple Bloom sounded sympathetic. “Looks like it’s going down.”
“We’re going to drop out of radio contact,” Chance called, hopping onto the little circle of stone. “This much rock will block our little transmitter.” It was only a few hooves down, and not going very fast. Sweetie didn’t join them right away, fumbling with something in her own saddlebags.
“Better hurry!” Apple Bloom looked up, their friend already nearly a full pony’s height away. “We’re going down!”
Sweetie Belle jumped about then, dragging a thick rope behind her. The rope tripped her as she jumped, and she landed in a tangled heap. “Dang.”
Chance tried to hide her smile as she reached out with her magic, extricating her friend from the length of rope before they could get much further. “Good thinking! We might need to climb out if the elevator won’t go back up!”
Apple Bloom looked skeptical. “Have either of you ponies ever climbed a rope? The only pony I’ve ever seen do it was mah’ big sister. No offense, but she’s a real strong earth pony.”
Sweetie Belle was undaunted. “It still might be useful! Like, if ponies come by, now they’ll know we went down!”
They were accelerating. Scootaloo said something, but her voice stretched into static before fading away entirely. There were no gears or shafts set into the stone all around them, just rough cut stone without strata or apparent weakness.
Chance gulped, wondering just how deep the shaft would go.
Chance screamed as she jumped, avoiding a section of stone large enough to squash her flat. The ground shook violently enough that she was nearly thrown from her hooves. She wasn’t, but Sweetie Belle almost fell and Chance had to steady her.
“We need you, Scoots!” Apple Bloom called from just beside them. All around, huge sections of the stone were crumbling away, the power that sustained them gone.
Well, it wasn’t gone yet. The power hovered in Sweetie Belle’s magic, a head-sized object of intricate metal curved in like leaves. Energy glowed from within, energy that wasn’t quite magic but wasn’t quite electricity either. Chance’s Nanophage lacked the resolution to get a good look.
She didn’t have the time to try something better, not when the whole world seemed to be crumbling around them. The dome of strange stone was miles and miles across, and the whole thing was crumbling. It was as though thousands of encroaching years were passing, all in the time it had taken them to make it out of the ruins with the artifact.
“I’m almost there!” Scootaloo’s voice was distant and clipped, surrounded by just as much of the grinding and crumbling sounds, and strangely distorted by the artifact they carried.
Apple Bloom turned her anger on Sweetie Belle, even as a spiderweb of cracks spread through the massive pillar beside them. “You didn’t have to pull it out so soon!”
Sweetie glared back, and Chance could practically smell the adrenaline coming from her. Sweetie Belle didn’t usually argue with them, not the way she would with her own sister. “We came here to get it! You ponies were taking too long!”
“We were trying to figure out if anything bad would happen!” Apple Bloom retorted, glaring. “You know, the smart thing to do?”
Chance ignored the argument. “We need to run!” She gestured up at the massive pillar beside them, curving as it was towards them. “I think the big one’s gonna break next!”
She didn’t wait, shoving Sweetie harshly forward with her muzzle before taking off as fast as her own hooves would carry her. Her fellow unicorn stumbled, then hurried after her. Apple Bloom caught up in only a few strides, gas rushing from the little tank as she demanded every ounce of performance the exoskeleton could give her.
“We should make more of those before we come here next!” Sweetie shouted, even as the massive pillar struck the ground behind them, sending a wave of force rippling across the ground and causing the fillies to stumble. Apple Bloom alone seemed unphased, reaching down to help the others back to their hooves.
“I can’t!” Her eyes were panicked, scanning the sky for the numerous other pillars of stone above them. They were all teetering now, wobbling in one direction or another. It was only a matter of time. “You’re not earth ponies! It’d break your bones!”
“She’s right.” Chance sounded defeated, though that might’ve been from the gigantic stone beams above them, the rain of rubble that would soon bring spectacular collapse. “Real powered armor takes some heavy implants to wear without hurting you. Apple Bloom’s exosuit only works ‘cuz earth ponies are so strong.”
“That’s what I said!”
Sweetie pawed at the ground in frustration, but she didn’t argue further. “Which one’s gonna fall next?”
Scootaloo’s voice shouted over the radio. “I’m coming in from the north! Looks like the whole dome’s about to come down on you, so I can’t stop! I’ll get it as low as I can! Get ready to jump!”
They turned, looking to the north. The outline of the Prism was there, zooming towards them as fast as propellers could take it. Even from a distance Chance could tell how old and worn-out a ship it was, though that was hardly her first thought now.
Their airship had been built for a crew of eight. Even with the human technology they had installed, it was still a strain for them to operate with just the four of them. Scootaloo’s orange and pink blur practically danced through the rigging, yanking on a sail with her teeth even as she guided the wheel with one hoof, before rolling to one side and adjusting an auxiliary propeller.
Chance hadn’t ever seen a pony sail like that. Hell, she wasn’t sure the best human pilots in the world could do what she was doing.
The ship was moving at its top speed, nearly sixty knots and bearing straight down on them. Scootaloo was flying low all right, barely ten feet above the ground. The great curve of its wooden hull would’ve been crushed to splinters against the many sharp rocks she skimmed over. A few were bigger, sections of collapsed pillar she had to surge over or dodge around.
“Can you do it?” Her friends crowded close to Chance, both looking at her expectantly.
“I think so.” She nodded, fixing her eyes on the ship. “Close your eyes. When I say so, breathe out as big as you can.”
“Why?” Sweetie tilted her head to one side, even as she lowered the faintly glowing object in her magic into her saddlebags. Above them, a massive pillar rumbled and cracked, before starting to tumble straight towards them. Would the Prism make it before the pillar squished them? No.
“Because Chance is terrible at this,” Apple Bloom offered. “If you don’t breathe out, the compression will rip your lungs out.”
Chance ignored them, turning and screaming at the radio. “Swerve left, Scoots! Jumping now!”
Her mind raced, even as she poured all the panicked energy and strength of magic her little body had into her horn. Light glowed around it as the pillar rushed up on them, so close now she could hear the sound it made. Only seconds—not even long enough for Apple Bloom’s machine reflexes.
Thaumcraft node activated. Chance stared at the deck of the Prism, at the empty place behind Scootaloo. She saw the position, felt the speed and the acceleration and the inertia. Her implants fed all that into the node, and more she couldn’t even guess at.
Chance felt control of her own magic leave her as the implants activated. Thoughts formed of their own accord, the intricate spell diagrams of a unicorn’s teleport. Gray magic built around them. Warp field stabilized.
“NOW!” Chance screamed as the world darkened, all gray stone and moss above them as far as she could see. Excursus engaged.
Light surged around her, and Chance squeezed her eyes defiantly shut against the void. The void would’ve frozen her and stopped her atoms in their motion if it contained matter that could’ve transferred heat. Pressure pulled at her lungs, but they were mostly empty, so they didn’t hurt much.
Air exploded all around them, even as the three of them collapsed to the deck. Chance’s horn steamed, and the whole world swayed in her vision. She felt the ground curve violently up as Scootaloo’s hooves hammered on the lift, though she was too far gone to know what Scootaloo was doing.
She couldn’t feel the thrill as they weaved between collapsing pillars, then broke through into clear sky. Teleportation with passengers was expert magic, even over such short distances. Chance’s implants took care of the mental labor, but they could do nothing for the magical demands. The price would be paid whether she wanted to or not.
Chance found herself pulled into a tight hug, pulled by one of Apple Bloom’s reinforced hooves on one side and Scootaloo’s on the other. “We did it!” Even through a stupor of magical deprivation, Chance could sense their excitement.
Medical control console.
There was no delay. Ready.
What is my condition?
Her vision filled with lines and lines of medical data, most of which she didn’t understand. A little of it was familiar, though. Native specimen suffering from mild case of thaumic starvation.
Her friends kept cheering, though Chance couldn’t really make out what they were looking at. They seemed to be complementing Scootaloo, though she couldn’t see why. Her friend didn’t look that different. Why does thaumic starvation create such severe symptoms? Chance felt like she was going into shock, her limbs getting cold and the world swimming.
The last time she had tried a teleport like that, she had spent days in the hospital. This one wasn’t nearly as ambitious, but she still felt awful.
Native species is dependent on thaumic energy. Sudden deprivation causes weakness and disorientation often followed by unconsciousness.
Can you treat it?
The medical data cleared, banished from her vision. The symptoms may be alleviated with a mild dosage of stimulants, painkillers, and muscle relaxants. As the treatment carries mild risk of liver damage, it requires subject authorization.
She didn’t have to ask if it was safe. The Nanophage wouldn’t present a treatment to her if it wasn’t. Instead she asked: How long is it safe?
At least twelve hours. It has not been tested for longer periods. Sustained high levels of Methylphenidate can cause liver damage in combination with—
Chance didn’t wait for it to finish. Do it.
The world rushed all around her, and she fell over sideways with a thump. Her legs twitched, scraping on the Prism’s rough deck. Time passed, she couldn’t say how much.
“Chance?” Something shook her. Chance looked up into Scootaloo’s face, full of concern. “Are you okay?”
The filly stretched, finding the longer she waited the more awake she felt. It would’ve taken much longer to feel awake had the substances been injected, but they hadn’t been. The Nanophage could make its own drugs, from chemicals already stored in her body.
“Y-yeah.” Her words came out slurred at first. “Just a little weak from the teleport. No big deal.”
Scootaloo wasn’t like her other friends. The pegasus took her at her word, offering a hoof. Chance took it, and rose again. She swayed a little, but only for a few seconds. A little longer, and enough of the cocktail appeared to have circulated through her blood to stop her shaking.
“Glad you’re okay, Chance. That was real hard on ya last time…” Apple Bloom offered, from a few feet away. She didn’t take her hooves from whatever control she was operating.
“Did you see?” Sweetie grinned, pointing at something in front of her. “Scootaloo got her cutie mark!”
She saw it now, a wooden helm flanked by a pair of wings. That was why Scootaloo had looked so proud. “Well, you did save our lives. That sounds like cutie mark material to me.”
With her system pumped full of drugs, Chance could grin and celebrate with all the enthusiasm her friends expected. As it turned out, they had escaped with two treasures, and not one.
Even the drugs weren’t enough for her to miss Sweetie Belle’s disappointment as they landed in their makeshift Sweet Apple Acres shipyard, and she was the only blank flank to disembark.
* * *
Sir Tullius Leonidas, honored knight of the Steel Tower and protector of mankind, had never been more proud of recruits than he was of the army before him.
In a rough stone chamber that had once been a mine stretched a training floor filled with dogs. There were perhaps five hundred of his recruits inside at this exact moment, and the smell of sweat and labor came from them all. Many ran the track in formation, with one of his lieutenants at the lead. Some lifted weights at the center, or climbed walls, or crawled under barbed wire. He could hear the bark of SARs as others practiced on the firing range in the next cavern.
Of course, part of his pride was not just at their results, but that recruits starting with such disadvantages could achieve as much as they had. Aside from himself, there was not a human in sight.
Leo’s army was not made of men, but of the rugged natives that called themselves diamond dogs. Within his army the practice of nudity was no more, and so every dog wore a practice uniform of sturdy brown cloth, with foreign legion pins on each shoulder.
The dogs were about equal with him in height, though some rose higher and some not so tall. Their bulk was far greater, at least twice that of any man. Their forelegs in particular had spectacular strength, enough to bend steel or rend rock in their grip. They had needed to adapt the SAR’s design to such unwieldy paws, giving it an elongated grip and a trigger-guard large enough to permit their meaty fingers.
Leo was not intimidated as he walked along the parade-ground, and dogs pounded past him on either side. Indeed, though they wore twice as much as he did even without armor, it was the dogs who bowed their respect to him as they went, giving him a wide berth no matter where he walked.
Leo wore a fine dress uniform over his new body, and he practically glowed in the white cloak of his office. The hem was high enough to permit him to walk without soiling it, billowing about him as he passed between the ranks. He shouted encouragement, correcting those who fell out of formation and offering suggestions to those who struggled to climb a wall or lift something correctly.
In the early days, Leonidas had worked only with the strength of Rover’s pack, not fifty dogs of fighting strength. That had changed, as stories spread of the pack where the Old Alphas had returned and meat and gems flowed like water.
Even so, he could always tell when new recruits were from outside by the look of scorn and hostility they gave him.
There was one in every batch of new dogs, usually whoever had been alpha among them. Today Leo found him in the practice ring, beaten down and covered with mud but dark eyes alight with hostility. “I don’t see why we listen to them,” the rough voice said, too loudly for Leo not to hear. He turned, meeting the eyes of the dog in question with his own icy blue. This was the dog’s only chance not to be humiliated.
He blew it, and kept going. “Already gave us tools. Gave us meat. We not puppies, listen to all master says. We’re bigger, stronger. We take.”
Leo turned, striding calmly to the practice ring. The dog overseeing this particular group was one of his first recruits, the female alpha of Rover’s pack. There was very little size difference in these dogs, and Maggie rose nearly as tall as any of the other dogs around her. She didn’t smell nearly so foul, but it was hard to say if that was the care she took as an officer or merely that she had lived in this “civilized” pack longer. “Don’t waste time, Knight. I’ll take the whelp.”
“No.” Leo’s voice was cold, loud enough that all around could hear. The sound of work and training abruptly died, as all nearby turned to watch. The dogs who had been here longer all got knowing looks, and already a crowd began to form.
The disobedient dog’s eyes were hard, and cracked teeth broke in a smile. His companions, probably all from the same pack, leered at him.
Leo stepped up to the side of the ring, standing beside the large rack of practice weapons. “What’s your name, son?”
The dog growled. “Bones.” Bones saw all the eyes on them, but didn’t seem to realize the real reason so many were watching. He stood straighter in the muddy practice field, puffing out his chest and baring his many teeth. “Listen, dogs! You bow to weak alphas! I should lead, I am strong!”
The crowd did not laugh—many of them had been in this dog’s position once. Leo never would’ve dreamed of permitting such barbaric methods of discipline in a human army, even one made of feeble organics. But dogs were not human, and some strategies of command had to adapt.
“Do you all agree that this dog, Bones, is the strongest of you?”
Bones, all dark fur and limbs like trees, turned to glower at his group. They all lowered heads and ears, whimpering in animal submission. It was understood.
“Very well, Bones. You wish to challenge me for alpha of my pack. So you will.” He swept the robe from his shoulders in a single motion, folding it with respect and offering it to Maggie. “Hold this a moment, if you would.”
Beneath his robe, Leonidas was a tall man, six feet of hard muscle and power. He would probably have been pale after so long underground, but artificial skin needed no sun to hold its color. Human eyes would’ve found it hard to sort out all the races that had made him. He smiled slightly to himself at the little technocrat’s attention to detail. Bree hadn’t just printed him a generic body, she had taken the time to give him his body, even if it lacked many of the advanced features that his last had possessed.
Leo’s dress uniform was pressed and clean, thick cloth with sharply tailored lines. He removed the jacket with its medals, offering it to Maggie as well. He removed the belt next, and the long metal sword that hung there. Instead he walked to the practice stand and its hard wooden weapons, in every variety used by dogs or men.
“Choose your weapon, Bones.” He gestured at the various stands and shelves.
The dog leered at him, raising sharply clawed paws. “I need no weapon.”
A murmur ran through the crowd, though it was hard to say for sure if the sound was impressed or rueful. Leonidas sighed. Bones wasn’t the first to think he didn’t need a weapon. It made these already stilted battles comically easy. Compassion without restriction, he reminded himself. I’ll try not to break any bones on this one.
“Very well.” Leo reached in, selecting a sturdy-looking wooden short sword, its surface smooth but covered with little dents and scratches. Leo raised it into a practice stance, swinging it once in the way he taught the recruits to do, then stepped into the practice ring.
The ring was exactly ten meters across, with bales of hay marking the outside. There was dirt within instead of stone, dirt scarred and torn by many sharp paws. Thick patches had gone muddy—Leo would have to avoid those.
“The terms are simple,” Leo called, raising his little sword. It looked almost comical compared to the dog’s mighty claws, and he heard stifled laughs from Bones and his crew, even as the rest of them clambered out of the ring. “First to yield. Do you accept my terms?” He turned, watching as Bones stalked towards him. He no longer even moved on two legs, instead prowling forward on four.
“I do.” His voice was harsher than gravel, and deeper too. “I will claim your pack, weak creature. They will serve a better alpha.”
The insults were part of the form. Leo twisted his sword once through the air, so all the watching dogs could see. It was a message more to them than him: I can take any one of you with the weakest weapon in my armory. If Bones didn’t understand what Leo said by it, he soon would.
Leo didn’t sound proud, nor did he retreat or turn as the dog prowled towards him. He stood as rigidly as the Tower. “I will strengthen the weak.”
Leonidas switched into combat mode. This field prosthetic was far more primitive than the one he had come to Equestria wearing, but even so it could do much a living body could not. The world around him slowed to a crawl, every breath and motion coming as though through thick amber. He watched as Bones jumped at him from one side, from an angle that should’ve caught Leo by surprise.
If he had been a dog. Leo could not move with the speed of his perceptions, but that didn’t matter. Compared to the dog, he was a blur. Leo jerked out of the way, moving just far enough that claws and teeth cleared him without ruffling his white undershirt. Dodging the spray of dirt and mud was a little harder, but not much.
As Bones continued his arc, Leo swung his sword harshly into one of his paws, against the tendon in one of his joints. He twisted aside, and let the world catch up.
Bones landed like a boulder, shaking the ground around them and spraying dirt everywhere. Unfortunately, Leo’s strike had spoiled the landing, and the dog tumbled, yowling in pain as his paw was twisted the wrong way. He slammed into the bales of hay, to the sound of raucous shouts from the dogs who watched on all sides.
“Luck!” The dog rolled onto its hind legs with surprising strength, clutching the paw close to its chest. “Lucky I missed! I will take your head!”
Leo faced him calmly, perhaps six inches shorter and a hundred kilos lighter. He didn’t flinch, didn’t look away or bow or show any of the customary signs of respect. “The Steel Tower has seven gates, recruit Bones. One of those gates is knowledge, which I have just used to sprain your ankle. Another is prudence; demonstrate your prudence by yielding to me now.”
“Weak creature—alphas need no weapons to be strong!” the dog bellowed, his angry voice echoing in the old mine.
Leo shrugged, tossing the sword from the circle. It pierced one of the bales of hay, and stuck there immobile. “Very well.” He spread his arms. “Yield Bones, or I will break one.”
In answer, the monstrous canine charged, his unwieldy body teetering as it tore the dirt up around him. His speed was inhuman, and the strength behind those paws could’ve shattered rock. It didn’t matter. Leo’s perceptions returned to battle speed. He spread his legs, bracing himself as the dog charged.
Dogs might be able to shatter rocks and turn mountains into dirt, but Leonidas was made from something stronger than either. As he closed for a swing, Leo brought one arm out violently to one side, palm flat against the weakest part of the bone. Force channeled briefly through his extended arm to his wide stance on the ground, driving Leo nearly six inches into the soft earth. Servos strained against the load, his titanium skeleton flexing briefly.
In the end, it was the living flesh that yielded. Bones went spinning, tumbling around Leo even as the bones in his upper arm cracked harshly through his skin. Blood gushed, and Leo dodged that too, calmly stepping sideways and out of the way.
Bones howled and twisted on the ground, frothing in rage as he looked up. Leo feared he might rise again, and that he might have to do even more serious harm to this dog. None had died on the training ground, but if this one was determined to make himself the first…
No. Bones lowered his eyes, tucking his tail into a cowering whimper. “Give up…” he croaked, coughing up a little blood and another chipped tooth. Probably bit his tongue too.
Leo watched with pity. Compassion without restriction. “Medic!” They were already waiting, two dogs with a stretcher on the side of the practice ring. It wasn’t exactly the first time he had taught discipline this way. Leo looked up, at the crowd of watching dogs. “Do not mock this dog when he returns,” he called, his voice carrying over the silence.
“Many of you have wished to do as he did! The Tower respects bravery and strength and he has demonstrated both. As you return to your duties, remember this lesson as you have remembered others. Those who lead you are the strongest, wisest alphas in all the world. Treat them with respect, and they will not force respect upon you with blood.”
He gestured with one hand, dismissively. A shout went up from his lieutenants throughout the crowd, calling the dogs back to their training. They began to disperse, leaving only Bones’s own crew and Maggie watching at the edge of the practice ground.
Leo pulled his jacket back on, then returned the robe to its place on his shoulders. He had managed to get a little dirt on his white dress uniform, so the robe would serve well to hide it until he had a moment to get it cleaned again.
“I told him.” Maggie’s voice was quiet, respectful as he dressed. “Told him what would happen if he spoke out. Other dogs did too.”
Leo shrugged, speaking loud enough that the rest of Bones’s group could hear. “No dog is a prisoner here. If he found the rules too difficult, or the alphas too weak, he could always take his leave of the Great Pack. The Tower does not keep slaves. His problem was that he wanted to enjoy our kindness without service. He wanted his place at the table without earning it.” He shook his head, then fixed the assembled group with another piercing gaze, as though daring one of them to challenge him. “The rest of this group seems wiser.”
“So they are,” Maggie echoed. “I am sorry again, Knight. Did not mean to take your time away from important work.”
He nodded. “Return to your good work, Lieutenant. You will make dogs from these puppies yet.”
Leo made his way from the training hall, through a nearby side-passage decorated with bright shields and bright spotlights. There was a heavy stone door at the end of the hall, with a prominent sensor mounted to the wall beside it. Leo held the hilt of his sword to the sensor, then retreated a step as the door swung slowly open.
Within was a round room, and at its center a table. Six dogs waited there, each wearing a cloak and a sword like his, save that the swords were steel instead of titanium and the cloaks were gray instead of white.
Leo nodded to each in turn, then sat at the head of the table, folding his arms. “I apologize for my tardiness, squires. I encountered… a brief delay.”
Hyde, a short dog with a white coat and a scar over one of his eyes, grinned sidelong at him. “Not so brief for the delay, I bet. Two weeks in the infirmary?”
The other squires laughed, though the gesture was far less raucous than it usually was with dogs. These were, after all, the best all the packs had to offer. From over a thousand fighting dogs male and female, Leonidas had found only six who would serve for squires. It was more than twice as many as he would’ve found from the same number of humans.
Leo didn’t laugh, only waiting for his squires to finish before gesturing to the table. The holographic display set into the center lit up at once, with a detailed image of the growing burrows and resources of the Great Pack. “Let us forget the puppy and return to work. We have much to prepare.”
“You don’t have to come.” Twilight spoke matter-of-factly, trying to hide the hope from her voice. “I’ve learned enough about Humans that I should be able to handle whatever on my own. Rainbow’s already offered to come if you’d rather stay and examine the artifact some more.”
Her apprentice looked much better than she had when she had returned from her adventure with the CMC a week ago. There was still a slight weakness in her magic, a weakness Twilight’s Alicorn senses couldn’t miss no matter what the filly thought about her ability to act healthy.
The filly was standing in the doorway to the little bedroom she shared with Spike, which they had made from the second floor with the careful use of shelves and a new divider. The room was quite cramped, just wide enough for a bunk-bed and a single squat desk they had to take turns to use.
To her dismay, the filly was already wearing her saddlebags, the same ones she had packed for “exploring.” “Truth’s on it, Mom. He doesn’t really need me.”
Spike grinned from beside her, looking almost as eager as the filly. “We shouldn’t leave her behind, Twi. Didn’t Celestia tell you she thought Chance’s people were involved somehow?”
Twilight sighed, but she didn’t argue further. No matter how much she wanted her filly to have more time to rest, Celestia’s evidence did point to human involvement. More rest might be better for the filly, but it wasn’t better for Equestria.
“Alright.” She glanced once at the saddlebags. “You’re ready to go? The train leaves in fifteen minutes.”
Chance nodded, flicking her tail towards the saddlebags. “I packed ‘em for anything! Ancient ruins… or trips to faraway cities.”
“Are you sure?” Twilight advanced into the doorway, into the room that was only just big enough for all three of them to stand up in. “Let’s be sure.” She flipped the saddlebags open, poking her nose inside. “Jacket… sleeping bag… fire starter… knife… tablet…” She leaned a little further, looking into the other half. “Canteen… dried food…” She stopped, frowning. “What are these?”
Twilight levitated the remaining two objects from the saddlebags. Both were made from reflective plastic, in the way that many human objects looked. One was a squashed rectangle, about three hooves long and two wide, made from bright red with a prominent white cross on the center. The other was less clear, a slightly thicker length of plastic with an opening on the front and protrusions around the bent half.
Chance’s eyes went wide. “Be careful with that one, Mom!” She snatched the bent object from her magical grasp, possible only because Twilight let her. She pulled it closer to her chest, wrapping one hoof around it. “This is a stun gun.”
Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t use Truth to make anything dangerous.” Twilight didn’t know that much about humans or their technology, but she knew what a “gun” was.
“It’s not!” Chance raised one leg defensively, even as her ears flattened and tail tucked between her legs. “Well… not supposed to be. It makes a pony sleep. It doesn’t do any permanent damage!”
Twilight frowned. “If it wasn’t for what happened at the conference, I wouldn’t want you to have that.” She gestured, watching as the relieved filly slipped the “stun gun” back into her saddlebags. “What about this one?”
Chance relaxed a little. “Oh, that’s a first aid kit. Case a pony got hurt.”
Twilight flicked the case open in her magic, peering inside. Four cylinders of plastic and glass were snapped snugly into the plastic, wrapped tightly in foam padding. There was human writing all over the box, though Twilight couldn’t read any of it or make sense of the diagrams. “Doesn’t look like any first aid kit I’ve ever seen before.”
“It’s better!” Chance tugged at the case, but this time Twilight didn’t let go. The filly was unusual in several ways, but not in strength. She didn’t stand a chance of taking something from Twilight if the Alicorn didn’t let her.
The filly frowned, but continued. “It’s called a Nanophage emergency triage kit.”
Twilight snapped it closed, though she didn’t give it back. “Doesn’t seem very useful to me. Four different drugs?”
Chance’s eyes grew glassy, losing focus. Twilight recognized the expression—her filly looked like that whenever she was remembering something that bothered her. It took her several long moments to reply. “Not four drugs. Two lives saved.”
Spike was suddenly beside her, tugging on her tail. “Twi, didn’t you say we only had fifteen minutes?”
“Oh!” Twilight tossed the case into her apprentice’s waiting saddlebags, turning away. “We should get going!” Twilight’s own bags were packed with far less. After all, they would stay in a nice hotel, not camp out in the woods. “Guess I don’t have to find Rainbow…”
They hurried from the library, out into Ponyville. The sun was setting then, casting the whole town in bright orange. Twilight spent a few moments in the light, locking the library doors and appreciating the beauty of her home.
It had changed little since Chance had come to live with her. Little, except for the squares of flat plastic called “solar panels” Chance had used to replace their coal generator and its smoke. Twilight didn’t even begin to understand how they worked, though she planned on setting time aside and figuring her way through it eventually.
Twilight looked almost longingly up at the clouds as they walked, searching for the one with Rainbow Dash on it. She didn’t find it, but since she wouldn’t actually get to make the trip with her friend that didn’t matter too much. Rainbow Dash wouldn’t have been that good at solving Precursor mysteries, anyway.
Soon enough they were on the train, set up in a private car at the back and settling in for a long trip. Her apprentice set herself up on one of the bunks, but then hurried back to Twilight and sat down, looking curious. “Why did Celestia think humans were involved?”
Twilight couldn’t hide a smile. Whatever else might be said of the grass-colored filly, at least she was diligent. “Well, see for yourself.” Twilight reached into her saddlebags, drawing out photos. They weren’t all that big, though the pony who had taken them had taken the time to develop them in color potion instead of black and white.
The photos depicted the inside of a warehouse turned into a maze of metal walls, wires, and cables. Twilight had rarely seen such sophisticated machinery, though she could make no sense of what it might be for from just a photo.
Her apprentice stared at the images in turn, biting her lip the way she always did when she was deep in thought. Twilight found herself drawing the filly close with a wing, looking down at the photos she had spread on the seat. The filly didn’t seem to notice. “Where’d they find this?”
“A warehouse,” Twilight supplied. “Stopped paying their rent, so the owners cut the locks and went in to see what they could sell. Found… all that.”
“Who owned it?”
“Well, that’s the mystery.” Twilight shrugged her other wing. “Private individual rented the place, somepony named Iron Blood. Nopony could get a hold of him though, and the city doesn’t have records of anypony by that name living there. Apparently he rented the place for at least the last few years… until he stopped paying last month.”
Chance frowned, levitating the photos closer to her. She examined each one, arranging them on the seat. Twilight realized she was trying to reconstruct the look of the warehouse, setting each photo according to where it had been taken, walls and windows and light serving to guide their placement.
Unfortunately, it covered only a small part of the building, and it was mostly empty seat cushion between them. She plopped down on her haunches, defeated. “No idea what those are. This thing here is called a Van de Graaff generator, it’s used for making extremely high voltages. No clue what they were using it for from just a few photos, though.”
“Do you agree with Celestia that humans were involved?”
Chance made an indecisive squeak. “I’m… it’s possible. But I’ve seen some amazing things from ponies before. Like those inventors who made our old generator.” Her tone grew distant and wistful a moment, staring off out into the window.
“No.” Twilight reached out, shutting the filly’s mouth with one hoof. “I know what you’re thinking—don’t. Those stallions are liars and troublemakers.” She let her tone grow a little stern. “Use your head for your thinking, alright?”
Chance blushed, her tail tucking itself between her legs. She stared at the carpet as she noded. “Y-yeah. Anyway… nothing in those pictures couldn’t be from Equestria. All that stuff looks advanced, but it might just be an expensive waste. I won’t be able to tell you for sure until I’m standing in that place.”
She looked up, though the filly didn’t manage to actually meet Twilight's eyes. Her own gray ones darted fitfully about the space around Twilight. “Why do you hate them so much, anyway? The generator they made worked fine, didn’t it?”
Twilight grunted, and couldn’t keep the darkness from her expression. She tried not to aim it at the filly, and instead took her into a hug. The filly squirmed and kicked, but couldn’t escape. A few moments later, and she had been sent into a fit of giggles. Twilight didn’t answer until she had gotten Chance to relax, setting her back down beside her.
“They’re slimeballs,” she explained, as calmly as she could. It wouldn’t do to use profanity around her daughter. The filly picked up enough of that from Apple Bloom already. “First time I met them, they took advantage of Applejack. Her family isn’t that great with their bits, and they sweet-talked them into wagering the whole farm against a machine in a cider-making contest.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t get better from there. Those ponies don’t care about anything but bits.”
“Ok.” Chance sighed, flopping sideways against the seat. “Sorry I brought it up.”
“Hush.” Twilight levitated the filly off the ground, setting her firmly down in the bunk bed. “Good little apprentices get a good night sleep.” She gestured with one hoof towards Spike’s bunk. “See? My number one assistant already went to be—” she trailed off, eyes narrowing.
Spike’s sleeping bag was glowing from within, the telltale sign he had brought a flashlight and a comic but didn’t want her to realize. She pretended not to notice. “It’s five hours to Fillydelphia.” She pulled the covers up over her apprentice, before the filly could protest.
“But I’m not tired!” Chance poked her head out, looking up. Despite her words, the filly looked quite sleepy. She sounded it too, whatever she might object.
“Really?” Twilight glanced at the lights, levitating the switch down into the off position. The only light in their car changed to the glow of stars and streetlights outside, blurring past as the train chugged along and forming strange orange line patterns that slid back and forth across the interior.
She sat down on the bench beside the bed, looking at the filly. One of Chance’s eyes was already closed. “We both know you stretched yourself on that adventure of yours. Just because your implants let you use more of your magic doesn’t mean you don’t have to recover afterwards like anypony else.”
Panic flashed briefly in Chance’s face, and she tugged the blanket over herself. Her voice came muffled. “I didn’t!”
“Sure you didn’t.” Twilight gently levitated the blanket back down, smiling at her. “Just rest, okay? We both know you need it.” She lowered her voice, just a little. “I know you didn’t tell me everything about your adventure the other day. If I was going to punish you, I would have already.”
She didn’t stay to see the filly’s expression, though she wanted to. Instead Twilight rose, levitating the door closed behind her as she made her way into the rest of the train. Neither of the car’s young occupants got up to follow. She waited behind the door a few minutes, making sure the lights didn’t come on. When she was satisfied, Twilight turned and made her way up the train.
There weren’t many ponies on this particular train, just a few lone buisness ponies with important appointments in far-away places. They mostly kept to themselves, resting in their seats or reading their papers. Each who saw her gave her respect, be it the formal bow custom dictated or a simple nod. On a night like tonight, she was happy to be alone with her thoughts.
Twilight made her way to the commissary car, where a miniature cafe prepared the same meal over and over. She bought a bowl of soup and a cup of coffee from the crotchety old donkey behind the stall, along with a copy of the paper, levitating all three to an empty chair to read.
Disappearances perplex police! read the headline. Hardly settling for Twilight’s nerves. The train carried the Fillydelphia Times, since that was their destination. Twilight scanned the article, searching for anything the police might’ve missed as she sipped at soup and coffee.
She didn’t find anything. The rest of the newspaper was a little more encouraging, uplifting stories about a new school, praise for a winning local athletic team, boring stuff about stocks and weather. Twilight found herself skimming more than reading, feeling uneasy but not able to place why. She watched the outside blur past, mostly empty wilderness with stretches of farm. Occasionally the train passed through other little villages, taking passengers or dropping them off, but mostly they continued without interruption.
“Something bothers you.” Twilight heard a familiar voice from behind her, and she didn’t turn around. Maybe it was her tiredness, or maybe it was how uncomfortable she felt. Either way, she didn’t consciously realize who was speaking. “Something is out of place. There’s a twisting in your gut, but you can’t say why.”
Twilight shook her head. “I know why. A dangerous monster is loose, and I’m not doing anything to catch him.”
“You’re new to being an Alicorn. Leave the important missions for ponies with more experience.”
Twilight turned, eyes widening as she saw the form towering beside her. Discord stood at his full height, strange body of disparate parts as strange as ever. She tried not to stare. “Shouldn’t you be out catching him right now?”
Discord looked as melancholic as she felt. He levitated himself into the seat beside her, without even bothering to bend the world around them. “Can’t do anything until he steals more magic. Then it’s just a matter of following the imbalance.”
“Yeah, sure.” Twilight rolled her eyes, looking back out the window. “You’re just putting off actually doing something useful.”
The draconequus sighed. “I want safety for Equestria.”
She couldn’t help herself—Twilight laughed. The sound was bitter even to her. “Yeah, right. After all you’ve done. I haven’t forgotten what you did to my daughter.”
“You ponies are too kind for your own good. First stray kitten to fall out of a rift and you’re adopting it and dressing it up like it’s one of you. Nine lives might seem to go on forever, but they still run out.” Discord didn’t look offended. He didn’t look properly embarrassed or remorseful either, which darkened Twilight’s mood even more. “Some of your anger is deserved—but some isn’t.”
“I don’t want to talk about deserved, Discord. Sometimes I wonder if you deserve to still be imprisoned.”
“Maybe so.” He gestured, and the newspaper zoomed over to him. He reached into one of the colorful ads for pastries as though it were a window, pulling one of them still steaming out in front of him. He sniffed, then took a big bite. Where Twilight could see inside, it looked like the thing had ink for cream filling. “You want my advice?”
Twilight shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
He ignored her. “Don’t get off this train. Ride it all the way to Trottingham. Catch an airship, sail somewhere far away. Take that pet of yours to see the zebras, maybe.” In a flash, his clothes changed, becoming tan and white and strange. Binoculars hung around his neck, and something very much like a gun rested against his back. “Make it a nice long safari. Forever, even.”
“What?” Twilight couldn’t keep the anger from her voice. Her horn crackled, and again she found herself boiling with regret that they had given up the Elements of Harmony. “Is that a threat?”
Discord’s strange clothes vanished as he floated to his feet. “It’s professional courtesy.” He lowered his voice, eyes narrowing. “Don’t think you’re the only pony willing to do something unseemly for the greater good.” He vanished.
Twilight wanted to shout, but of course she couldn’t do that. Even if the car had emptied as soon as ponies caught sight of Discord, she wouldn’t give the tabloids something to write about.
She thought about sending a letter to Celestia about Discord’s strange behavior, but that would’ve meant waking her assistant. By now Spike would’ve stopped pretending—no matter how much he wanted to stay up late and read, he was still a baby dragon.
Twilight walked back to her car, finding the chair closest to the door and plopping herself down on it. She went back to staring out the window, feeling even more uneasy than before.
* * *
Chance didn’t have an exosuit like Apple Bloom’s. Even so, she positively bounced around the warehouse, taking in the strange machinery and the flashing lights with an energy only the young could imagine.
Her week of recovery time had done for her magical strain, though her horn was still a little sore and she got a little headache if she levitated anything for too long. She hadn’t mentioned those symptoms to Twilight, and had no plans of doing so now.
The warehouse seemed positively giant from her filly’s height, at least ten meters high with a retractable glass ceiling. The various storage shelves had been incorporated into the machinery, like some kind of half insane mad-scientist’s creation.
She was only dimly aware of the police ponies watching from the doorways, extremely skeptical of the filly dancing around between machines and high voltage cables. Only her mom’s explanations had gotten her here, and only her persuasion kept her here.
Chance didn’t care. Unlike the ancient ruins, this machine actually seemed like her element. Parts of her mind long forgotten came into uneasy life again as she took the whole thing in.
Second Chance had been created as a last lifeline of her world. Into her mind the Federation had concentrated all the knowledge of engineering and science a living brain could contain, with instructions to bootstrap all the way from flint tools to nondeterministic quantum processors.
She had been sent into a world humanity thought was uninhabited, with instructions on how to build the stabilizer that would allow others to follow. It didn’t matter how long that mission took.
Unfortunately for the United Earth Federation, Equestria already had an advanced race living on it, one Chance wasn’t too keen on displacing. She would not be tearing wide the bridge in the sky to let humans flood this planet.
As a result, she hadn’t had the chance to use her instincts for engineering as often as she liked. The room’s machinery was one such rare opportunity, and she reveled in it. She traced each wire, coil, and component with her eyes, building the whole thing into a functional model in her head. Chance didn’t even really need the Nanophage, just her intellect and enough time.
Twilight tried to ask her what she was doing, but Chance didn’t answer with anything coherent and the Alicorn gave up. Even if she wasn’t really paying attention, Chance was grateful her mom trusted her enough to leave her to her own devices, trusting that she wouldn’t get herself hurt.
It was probably a little generous. Chance had gotten herself hurt plenty of times. Hell, she had almost died a week ago. She didn’t consider that particular misadventure her fault. Sweetie Belle had pulled the Flower out without thinking, not her!
Chance stopped after at least an hour, a grin spreading slowly across her face. “Twilight?”
The Alicorn emerged from around a corner, smiling faintly at her. “Yes, Chance?”
“I think I have it.” She beamed, bouncing up to the lavender Alicorn, junk thumping in her saddlebags as she went. They had already stopped at the hotel room, but Chance hadn’t left anything there but the sleeping bag and the jacket. It was much too warm in Fillydelphia for jackets.
“Alright.” Twilight gestured all around them, expectant. “What is all this?”
Chance didn’t see Spike, but she did see a cream-colored policepony beside Twilight, her expression stern. “Yes, please explain. We’re all very eager to learn what good it was to use this place as a playground for foals.”
Chance would’ve giggled at the policemare’s uniform and its striking similarity to old earth movies, were it not for how grumpy she sounded. Somehow she doubted the pony would take that disrespect of her position well, princess nearby or no.
She turned away, walking into the maze of shelves and coils and parts. “Follow me! I’ll show you!”
“Princess, with all due respect, I don’t think this—”
Twilight cleared her throat. “My apprentice knows what she’s talking about, officer. Please do not interfere.” She hurried to catch up, lowering her voice to a whisper as she got close. “You better know what you’re talking about!”
Chance grinned up at her. “I do!” She slowed her pace a little, clopping down the concrete floor towards the control area at the center. “Somepony was making an EMP. Pretty close to going off, too.” She looked behind her, puffing out her chest as she met the policemare’s eyes. She couldn’t help it! “You ponies are super lucky I got here when I did.” She frowned to herself, looking back down. “Although… I don’t know why you would’ve left it on. Why did you leave the electricity on, anyway?”
The officer sounded defensive. “There was no telling how important all this was. We thought the Crown was probably involved, even if nopony would admit it.” She glared, though not at Chance anymore.
Twilight raised a hoof defensively. “I assure you, the Crown wasn’t involved in this. I’ve been placed in charge of all research like this, and I would know if I had ordered something.” Twilight looked a little confused. “What’s an EMP, Chance?”
The filly’s frown deepened as they walked. The center of the room was a control area, with several tables taller than she was covered with makeshift controls. Huge old-fashioned switches had been bolted to the tables, along with spinning dials and whirring gears and levers. It was quite an intimidating display.
Intimidating enough that Twilight and the officer didn’t actually follow her, instead standing outside the control booth, though they still watched intently.
“An EMP is…” She frowned, searching for words in Equestrian that would explain what she was thinking. Eventually she found them. “Like an invisible explosion. It doesn’t hurt anything alive, or anything magic. But the power system… transformers, and circuits, and stuff like that… it destroys all of it!”
Chance hopped up onto the chair, staring at the control panel. She had seen the machinery now; she knew where every wire went and what each did. This machine couldn’t hide from her.
Twilight spoke from nearby, looking concerned. “What’s the range on something like that?” She looked like she wanted to tell Chance not to touch it, but she didn’t actually say that.
“This is a really clever way to make one.” Chance gestured all around them. “The easy way to make a big one is to get a nuclear explosion into the upper atmosphere.” She stopped, one hoof resting on a switch. With each she manipulated, the electrical noise around the warehouse began to settle. “Well, I guess that isn’t easy for ponies. But you get the idea.”
Twilight was still looking expectant, and Chance realized she hadn’t actually answered her question. “Oh, sorry! This one would’ve used your own electrical grid to amplify it when it went off. Pretty much everything electrical in the city would’ve been destroyed forever.”
Her mentor did not seem comforted by this news. Even as Chance continued at the controls and the lights started to dim all over the warehouse, Twilight walked right up to the other side of the table and looked seriously at her. “Do you think the ponies who built this used Precursor knowledge to do it?”
Chance nodded. “Without a doubt. These raw materials are primitive… but the technique is way advanced. Getting a non-nuclear EMP with a range like this took us hundreds of years longer than just figuring out electricity. To do it without an airburst…” She couldn’t keep the respect from her voice, so she didn’t try. “Your bad guys were smart. Smarter than most of the people in the labs I worked.”
Twilight nodded. “Just… finish shutting it down.” She smiled. “Good work, Chance.”
Chance beamed, and she didn’t really watch as Twilight and the policemare walked a little distance away. She didn’t even feel bad that they were having their conversation out of earshot. I’m a kid here, it’s not their fault. I wouldn’t want to scare a kid by telling them the details of a terrorist attack either.
Chance knew machines, particularly the ones with even tenuous connections to Earth. She hoped the bad ponies who had built this thing had spent lots and lots of bits on it, bits they would never get back.
Chance might be able to dissect the purpose and function of a machine with her eyes, but that didn’t mean she was perfect. In particular, when the machine was constructed with the specific purpose of deceiving her.
As she worked to discharge the machine’s massive capacitor arrays, she failed to notice the charge building around her own hooves.
At least, not until the trap sprung. Chance screamed in pain and terror as energy surged through her chair, sending her whole body into pained spasms. Blinding light filled the warehouse as every light flashed at once, and Second Chance went tumbling down into the dark.
Bree curtseyed with the grace of bubbling streams on far mountains, her dress all young leaves and strands of morning dew. Long red hair flowed behind her like sunlight, making her seem in digital space as though spring itself had been frozen in flesh.
King Richard had done no datamancy to enhance his appearance, either with more realistic things or the artistic flourishes that Bree herself used. Even so, Bree knew the reality was no less imposing. Richard was almost seven feet tall, with a mane of black hair and the fierce eyes of a king. Like the knights of his house he wore white, a regal uniform that needed no enhancement to stand for his authority.
Even in a data transmission, seeing him was an impressive sight. Bree looked with disdain on many of her fellow citizens of the Tower, knowing no equal in all the Infinite Realm. Yet in King Richard her pride was cowed, and she bowed with genuine humility and respect.
“It is a joy and honor to see you, Your Grace.” Her voice was as high as her age suggested, though there was melody and wisdom there that no true child had ever had. Bree was something the natural world had never made, an eternal Unseelie child. In the Infinite Realm she would never weaken or rot. Harsh nature, vindictive queen of all the world, would not take back the gift of youth she had given.
Richard stood five meters away, stance rigid in the virtual space within the transmitter. There was no furniture here, nothing physical beyond the two of them and a vague grayness all around. “I read your last report.” The king’s voice was deep, deep enough that Bree felt her chest vibrating with the force of it. “Your words disturbed me more than the news of the death of Sir Leonidas. I came to confirm the words of your missive for myself.”
Bree wilted before that gaze like a flower left without water too long in the sun. Within the transmitter’s buffer, datamancy required conscious effort on her part. The blue flowers in her hair went white, even as the leaves around her bare feet turned gray and brittle.
“What… what disturbed you?” All the grace and beauty in the world couldn’t make Bree feel less like a child.
The king of all mankind advanced on her, just one step. He did not raise a hand to threaten, and indeed she had never seen him do it. Of course, she had never seen him so angry before, either.
“This.” He tossed something at her feet, a sheaf of paper that struck and broke apart, sending paper flying through the air. She recognized the plan of course, for it had been sent as part of her last message back to the Tower.
“The…” She winced, retreating from him. It didn’t make a difference. “Invasion plan? Was something wrong with it?” Bree dropped, scooping up the mass with a flurry of wind and spreading the files in the air. They took shape around them, each one seeming gigantic in size by comparison.
Each page was filled with text, maps, diagrams, all showing her plans for an invasion of Equestria. The detail was exacting, right down to an attractive graphic design with colors she had taken from herself. “Your grace, I’ve run the simulations many times! I’ve accounted for every variable—I won’t soil the Tower’s mighty name with defeat!”
Richard gestured angrily, and the files vanished. Not burned away, not decompressed, just gone. Like his knights, the king had absolute authority. Their hands alone could bring true death to beings made of information, erasing it forever. Bree shivered, wondering if he could do it to her through a databand connection.
He didn’t shout or scream, as before. Only his eyes reflected the anger, and the imperious tone of his voice. It was a strength unlike anything the living world could know. “Tell me the gates of the Tower, Brigid Curie. What are they?”
She didn’t even hesitate. She had learned from long ago, back when she had actually been a child. “Intellect, bravery, knowledge, fortitude, temperance, justice, and prudence.”
Richard nodded, his anger not seeming the least bit tempered. “Does it seem just to conquer a nation that never lifted a sword against the Tower? Does it seem prudent to make ourselves enemies of a world we barely understand?” His eyes practically burned as he asked the last question: “How many nations has the Steel Tower ever conquered?”
Bree thought about it, about the union of Europe, Africa, the Middle East, and Russia. Many nations, large and small, had united to form the Tower. As she quickly considered the history, she realized that each one had always had large majorities clamoring for membership in the Tower. It was true, some of their governments had resisted. But the people… They had always been liberators.
That was the history she knew, anyway. Bree shivered. “N-none.”
“None,” Richard repeated, advancing towards her again. “Perhaps you thought it a charming story, or some kind of clever propaganda. Maybe you thought we built our gates from whole cloth and empty promises.”
“N-no!” Bree’s elegant dress wilted away to nothing, leaving Child_Female_Dress_111 behind, plain gray cloth without even a texture to it. “I didn’t!”
Richard glowered. “What did you think?”
“That…” she stammered, having not expected Richard to actually give her a chance to defend herself. “I was thinking of the long-term consequences!” She wasn’t sure where she found the words, but find them she did. Confidence returned, at least enough for her to turn her dress green. It was something.
She continued. “There are fifty million ponies in Equestria, and plenty of other creatures. All of them have near-human intelligence, all wasted on meat bodies. They live and die and rot and they’re wasted! An invasion could be over so fast it wouldn’t shed blood! Their government is fragile—strike swiftly at the head, and resistance would crumble! We could—”
Richard silenced her with another imperious gesture. Was that a little softness in his expression? He seemed to have noticed her fear now. Being young was sometimes an advantage there, too.
“I believe you meant well, child.” Richard folded his arms across his chest. “If I thought otherwise, I would have you replaced at once. Tesla has already assured me, however, that you made this proposal at his request. He assures me there is none better for your duty in all the realm. You’re the most talented drone designer we have, and the most resourceful.”
He reached out, resting one hand on her shoulder. She tensed, but there was no need. He didn’t hurt her, just turned her head up so she was meeting his eyes. “The realm will not punish a wrong you did not do.”
Bree wiped a tear from her face with the back of one hand, nodding. She did not touch the monarch in return, however.
“Hear the will of your king, servant of mine. Your commandment is the same—remain hidden, prepare for my arrival. Make no enemies in Equestria and kill none who do not lift sword first.” He released her shoulder, leaving her free to show her tears. She did, and they flowed freely.
“Your projections suggest you will be able to stabilize the rift in eight years. Serve me in faithfulness, and when I come I will crown you with glory. Do you understand?”
She nodded, and the king smiled. It wasn’t much, but it felt like sunlight on her face compared to what she had been watching before. “It will be done.”
“I do not doubt it.” Richard vanished.
No sooner was he gone than the tears vanished from Bree’s face, pretended emotions replaced with the collected calm of her natural state. She sent one command, and the transmission buffer vanished from around her.
Bree returned to consciousness in her android body, resting as it was on a chair of soft wood the dogs had given her in her first days.
Bree rose, throwing on her cloak as she hurried from the room and into the burrows proper.
Her assembly line was a vast space now, far larger than the single cavern she had taken in the first weeks. Every spare inch of space was filled, with bubbling vats or whirring machines or tracks for the little wheeled drones to roll. Further still she heard clanks, the tools of dogs as they mined her metals for her.
Everywhere she went dogs showed her respect, though she was half their size and no warrior at all. Even the mighty knew that Bree was the Alpha above all others, even brave Sir Leonidas. All in the Great Pack would bow to her command.
Bree watched a group of miners return, pushing old-fashioned carts around tracks they themselves had built. She watched as they dumped huge carts of rubble onto the conveyor, which would take and refine the ore into the metals that drove their industry.
As she watched, Bree felt a plan weaving itself in her mind, a way to adapt the invasion she had written for Leo. It wouldn’t take much—from what she had learned of Equestria’s history from her stolen books, the nation faced constant threats and frequently struggled.
It wouldn’t be so hard to wait a little longer. Sooner or later something disastrous would happen, enough that she could justify questioning Equestria’s survival. When that happened, she could act.
Tesla would be disappointed she had failed to convince Richard of their plan. She imagined his reaction would change, once he heard what she was planning now.
Equestria’s last day was coming, and Brigid Curie would make it happen.
* * *
“Chance!” Twilight screamed, teleporting past the policemare and back to the control station in the center of the room. Alicorn or not, even Twilight had been blinded by the sudden flash of light from all directions. There had apparently been more than just light by the control panel, because all the little dials and switches had gone black and the whole area smelled like ozone.
Second Chance was on the floor, huddled into a twitching mess on the bare ground. There were burns on the filly’s fur, her mane and tail a little blackened and all standing on end. Twilight shoved with magical force, breaking tables and prying the chair from the floor and flinging it all out of her way. She took the filly into her grip, terrified tears streaking her vision. “Please be okay please be okay please be okay.”
Twilight’s mind raced with all the awful things that electricity could do to a pony, and her heart nearly stopped as she considered them all. Pegasi were resistant to most of the damage electricity could do, as they spent much of their lives surrounded by it. Little unicorn fillies, on the other hoof…
Chance moaned from in front of her, coughing and spluttering. She opened one eye, looking weakly up at Twilight. “Guess I… s-screwed something up.”
Twilight knew she should’ve felt reproving. Instead she pulled her daughter close, holding her to her chest and remaining that way. “Sweet Celestia, don’t scare me like that…”
“Yeah,” the filly whimpered. “S-sorry.”
Police ponies swarmed around them, pouring into the warehouse from all sides. Twilight rushed her apprentice to the hospital, rushed with magic faster than anypony could gallop, but it proved not to be necessary.
Her burns weren’t nearly as bad as they had looked. They spent the night there, Twilight and Spike both sharing the single overlarge armchair in Chance’s hospital room, before catching an afternoon train back to Ponyville.
The filly got her proper share of scoldings then, as well she deserved. Twilight tried not to be too hard on her, not with the disaster she had apparently prevented. Whatever Chance had done, it had been in time to stop the whole city’s electrical grid from being destroyed. Twilight didn’t even want to imagine the damage that might’ve caused.
Her adopted daughter had a shorter mane, and a few darker patches on her coat, but otherwise she had made it through unskathed. So far as adventures went, it could’ve been worse.
Amber Sands had expected many things about the mission she had been created to serve. For many lonely hours she had sat in the dark, imagining what it might be like to impersonate the daughter of a princess.
Few in the swarm could have attempted such a feat, even among her sister queens. Amber hadn’t just stolen the young pony’s appearance, as any skilled changeling could’ve done. Even with all that was known about the pony she was impersonating, how could any of Amber’s sisters have known to do the things she had done?
How many would’ve known how to answer a cube of intelligent metal, explaining that her “nanophage transmitter” had been “shorted in the electrical discharge and would need time to repair?” How many of them would’ve known to refuse a booster shot, and known what to say?
Amber Sands knew all that and more. Her mind was so crammed full of knowledge she sometimes felt like she was going to burst. Strange visions waited in her dreams, visions of gray wastelands and rocks that never flew far enough. She looked up at evil skies in those dreams, and never knew what she was seeing.
Amber was restricted to the library the day they returned. She spent the day feasting on delicious love from the princess’s own hooves. It wasn’t anything like the love her own mother gave her, concentrated so sweet it made her head spin. Even so, Amber Sands found love from a pony far more satisfying because she had stolen it all on her own.
For the first time in her life, Amber was actually serving the swarm, instead of just wasting its resources.
Yet for all Amber had looked forward to this assignment, for all she had dreamed of it and all her mother had sacrificed to get her here, she felt one thing she had never imagined.
Guilt.
At first she dismissed the feeling, telling herself it was just the memories her creation had given her, stolen from the pony whose place she had taken. That worked the first day, as the princess she had been sent to betray rushed her to the pony hospital and saw to her needs.
Then came the second day, and her trip back to the pony’s home. Not allowed to leave the library, her friends had all come to her. Several young fillies and colts her age came to visit, each one with encouragement and congratulations for the disaster she had “prevented” in Fillydelphia.
Amber smiled and thanked them, enjoying the different flavors of love and appreciation each one brought.
Amber Sands shifted at her desk, staring down at the pile of books Twilight had brought her for “remedial study.” The words were very difficult for her—no thanks to the pony she had been made to copy.
“These too.” The Alicorn Twilight Sparkle seemed to tower over her, all long horn and feathery wings. It took great discipline for Amber not to shy away, cowering behind books or walls or anything else nearby. The Alicorn burned with a magic her senses could scarcely understand, enough magic to blast her off the planet and not even leave much of a stain.
As every previous time she saw her, Amber expected the Alicorn to be glaring at her with fierce anger, about to reveal that she had detected the deception and that the torture would begin for what she had done.
As in every previous time, Twilight only smiled. She levitated another stack of books beside the first. “I found a few more about safety for you, Chance.” She levitated something else down beside the books, another stack of blank paper.
A thought that could’ve come from the real Chance whispered that the torture had already begun. Of course, Amber would’ve tasted anger, or frustration, or vindictive revenge. She felt only love from the Alicorn, and sincere concern as pure as anything she had felt while living with her own kind.
No, more, Amber thought wistfully, as she levitated the first of the books down beside her stack of blank paper and squinted at the name. Mother loved me, but not the others. It seems like all the ponies love each other. Well, not just ponies. Spike the Dragon felt affection no less sincere than any of the equines, and if anything the sense of brotherhood and camaraderie she felt from him was even stronger.
“Well?” Twilight had been talking. Amber blinked, whimpering. But as in many other things, the ponies were softer when it came to correcting her. Twilight sighed, then sat down and proceeded to explain again. “I want at least a full page report on each book. So help me, you aren’t setting a hoof on that airship of yours until you finish these. I don’t care if it takes you all summer.”
Amber smiled up at Twilight in spite of herself. The Alicorn sounded stern, but she couldn’t hide the truth from a changeling. Amber tasted the sweet mercy in that tone, tempered with a kindness the Queen of all Changelings had never known. Twilight wasn’t really going to subject her to writing reports on a dozen books she could barely even read.
That didn’t mean she wouldn’t expect some good-faith effort on at least one, though. Amber nodded. “I’ll start right away!” She looked down at the cover, struggling over its title. “Electrical Safety-Related Work Practices. It sounds… exciting.” She feigned a smile, probably not better than the real Chance could’ve done.
This seemed to satisfy the Alicorn. “Good. You make it exciting, because it’s the first of many.” She rose, turning and walking from the room.
Amber read with no less difficulty than the real Chance would’ve, since after all her understanding of the pony language went exactly as far as the one whose memories she had stolen.
Each page crawled by, regaling her with things her memories told her were incredibly primitive and often dangerous. Something in her gut wanted her to go to Twilight and ask for a red pen so she could fix the book. She had a feeling that wasn’t quite what the Alicorn had in mind, though.
“Rough.” Spike came briefly into their room, stopping to look at her desk and the massive pile of books waiting for them. He set a little plate down beside her, a plate with three chocolate chip cookies and a single glittering red ruby. “Maybe these guys’ll make you feel better! Fresh out of the oven!”
Amber looked up, resisting annoyance at being interrupted. Spike had brought her food, though not the kind he probably thought he had. His savory sympathy went well with the hearty helping of concern and love Twilight had fed her for lunch.
Even so, she had to hastily stash what she had been writing under the many blank pages, concealing it so Spike couldn’t see. “Thanks, Spike. You’re the best.”
“Well, yeah. I think that’s established at this point.” He continued past her, to his bed. He rummaged around inside it, emerging with a stack of graphic novels.
You stole my life. Amber heard the words in her new voice, though the words had cold anger unlike anything Amber herself had used. She had felt such things from the filly though, in that strange time where memory melted into visions and came out the other side.
Amber ignored the words, instead levitating the ruby off the plate and in front of Spike. “You intend to give this one to me, too? I don’t think my teeth can handle it.”
“Whoops!” Spike caught the gem out of the air, tossing it into his mouth with a grin of sharp teeth. The gem splintered and broke like it had been made of ice, though the sound it made there was far closer to shattering glass. “Thanks! Must’ve snuck onto the plate by accident.”
He kept going to the open doorway. “Can’t stay, sorry. Twilight says I shouldn’t distract you.”
“Right.” Amber waved with one hoof, pulling the plate closer to where she sat. “You think Twilight would mind if I went for a walk in a few hours, say… right before dinner? So long as I didn’t go far?”
Spike shrugged. “Want me to ask?”
She nodded gratefully. “Please. If you ask, it means I can…” She groaned in the most exaggerated way she could. “Deal with this.” She levitated a cookie up towards her mouth, steam still rising from it. She didn’t actually take a bite, though.
“No problem!” He walked out the door. “I’ll ask once I get downstairs.”
Amber bit into the cookie, chewing with her best, happiest grin. “Thanks again, Spike! Best little brother ever!”
“Older brother!” he called back, though he was still smiling. “I was first!”
Amber didn’t argue, turning back towards the blank paper and pretending to enjoy the cookie. She kept pretending until Spike vanished down the stairs, before levitating up the little trash bin and the cookie up into it.
Pony food was vile and tasteless in her mouth, like chewing dirt. The cookie was particularly bad, with spots of melty, gooey, soggy stuff with a strange texture that stuck to her tongue and turned her mouth dark.
Whenever Amber found herself buying into the illusion of a happy pony society, she would eat some of the food and remember just how strange these creatures were.
She had disposed of the cookies before Twilight returned, granting conditional permission for “Chance” to go on a brief walk so long as she finished one of her reports first.
Amber returned to the painful exercise, but not so painful as the thought of what she had to do next. This stolen life was such a delicious illusion, even if the food was awful. The ponies here all loved each other, and she had slipped right into that love. They were soft, they were strange, but they were kind.
She shouldn't feel guilty that she had come to betray them. It wasn’t just the reason she had come, it was the whole reason she had been born. There was not even a possibility that Amber Sands wouldn’t carry out her mission, regardless of the consequences for Twilight Sparkle or any of the other members of her adopted family.
At least, that was what she kept telling herself. Amber finished her report, then took a few more minutes with her other task. With the other sheet of paper, she recreated a note with great precision, every curve and line coming out exactly as her memory recorded.
This was only the first part of the plan, of course. Amber didn’t know the whole thing, and she doubted anypony did. Changelings had survived so long, in part, because they were secretive. Their infighting and constant betrayals could never compromise more than a small number of their kind at once, with so many independent cells. Even the hives were independent this way, maintaining contact only through their queens.
Amber knew very little about her kind, though. She might die on this mission and neverlearn.
Forgery complete, Amber rolled up her fake note and stashed it in her replica of Chance’s saddlebags. None of the other objects she had gone to Fillydelphia with were inside of course, and excusing it had been harder than anything else she had needed to explain.
Amber was lucky Twilight had been so happy for her to be alive that she didn’t look too closely into her minor bouts of amnesia.
Amber felt like a lucky bug in many ways, though. Lucky as she headed down the stairs and gave her report to Twilight, and practically washed in the praise and joy. If anything, her guardian was impressed with her precision.
“You can go for ten minutes,” Twilight offered, in a tone that brooked no argument. “If you’re a second late, you don’t leave this library for a week. Your time starts now.”
Amber hurried from the entryway, though she didn’t move terribly quickly. Her body was sore all over from very real electrical burns. Amber thought about how she had gotten them as she walked purposefully through Ponyville. She could still see the tunnel under the warehouse, and feel the restraints her mother had tied her into.
“I’m sorry, daughter,” the queen had said. “All of us must sacrifice to serve the swarm.”
Amber had been frightened of course, though at the time she hadn’t had a clue what was about to happen to her. “I’m not afraid!”
Her mother would have sensed her lie, Amber wasn’t terribly good about lying. Even so, she didn't call her on it. That was the first sign something bad was about to happen—Chrysalis always punished her for bad lies, making her practice over and over until the ones she told came off believable.
She smelled something strange next, like a pegasus pony passing by very closely. The smell came with a strange crackling, one she had never heard before. “What’s that?”
Queen Chrysalis, Monarch of the Swarm, had drawn up two wires in her magic, their copper leads sparkling in the single candle. “When we exchange you for the princess’s filly, it will be under circumstances that would leave a weak pony in a state of injured shock. In order to preserve the illusion, you must be subjected to a similar pain.” She reached out, resting one hoof briefly around Amber’s neck. “Be strong, daughter. I will make it as quick as possible.”
It had been quick, but that hadn’t made it painless. Amber had never felt real pain in her life before that moment. Nothing in her true memories could prepare her for it, nor anything in the ones she had stolen. Kimberly Colven had experienced much pain in her time, but the transfer of memory and experience did not communicate the actual sensation of things.
Amber had heard Kimberly’s screams as her mother burned her all over, sending her whole body into painful spasms and charring the pony coat she had worked so diligently to recreate.
To Amber’s great personal pride, she hadn’t changed back into her true form during all that torture. She had been trained for nearly a year, and knew how to do that one task at least.
Eventually the pain had ended, and her mother had caressed her, showering her with love one last time before carrying her off to be dumped.
Now here she was, healed by pony magic and set to the most important task of her life. She felt quite justified in her pride at an existence given purpose at last. Her mother the queen had given her much of the swarm’s scarce food to get her to this point, and drones had starved because of it.
It was Amber’s turn to make good on the debt. So what if she felt a little guilty while she did it?
It had been a year since her creation now, and Amber had visited plenty of pony villages. Her mother had many contacts throughout the nation, and she took her along to visit with them all.
Never before had Amber felt such a friendly reaction from the ponies of anywhere she had visited. Everypony she passed waved cheerfully “Hey Chance!” they said, or “Enjoying the night?”
Healing magic had done for her mild burns, though it couldn’t do anything for her shorter mane and coat cut almost to the skin in places. A few ponies even noticed, and their concern was real as they asked after her health. “You didn’t get into too much trouble, did you? Those friends of yours…”
Amber was polite, though she didn’t know most of the ponies as well as they seemed to know her. Her own memories were almost a year behind, a year of friendships and adventures and time to learn the Equestrian written language.
It wasn’t as though her memories could’ve been updated, even if the real Chance could’ve been missing long enough to imprint again without attracting suspicion. A young queen could get new memories only once, so a new foalnapping would mean a new queen.
It would’ve meant her whole purpose for existing no longer mattered.
Amber straightened outside her destination, the Ponyville guardhouse. The building might look on the outside like any of the others around it, with its charming wood exterior and rustic thatched roof, but Amber knew better.
Through a thin veneer of wood was thick brick and concrete. The windows weren’t just shuttered, but thickly barred. One of the Solar Guard rested outside, unarmed but still armored and watching the streets with interest.
Amber had studied the way pony governments worked. She knew this small detachment of the guard were the only ones keeping order here in Ponyville, such as it was. The town was too rural to pay for its own police force, as other towns did.
In theory the guards also served for Twilight’s own guard, since she was far too new a princess to have her own. It was in both capacities her mother needed them.
Amber straightened, putting on the look of a pony with urgent business, a pony needed and expected. Her steps became more rigid, longer, her tail twitching about behind her as though she felt that any delay were too long.
If the Alicorn Twilight Sparkle had not detected her deception the instant she appeared, this was the next likely point of failure in the plan. The royal guard had been lax once, an easy target for her mother. Royal guards were a tougher bunch now, with techniques for detecting changeling infiltration.
Part of Amber’s act as she walked up to the guardhouse was to steel herself for the act. I’m a queen. I’m strong and brave.
Amber told herself that, but it wasn’t what she felt. She felt like a despicable pony who had no place in their town. The voice of Chance’s own memories was harsher than normal in her mind. They that sow the wind shall reap the whirlwind.
Amber wanted to argue, to defend herself. What am I supposed to do? You wouldn’t let your people starve! But there was no answer—Amber had stolen Chance’s appearance, but there was no other mind crammed inside her head. The voice of guilt was her own, even if it used Chance’s words.
The guard outside was a unicorn, his coat brown and his mane creamy yellow. He snapped to attention as she approached, no longer slumping or swaying with tiredness. Of course, that didn’t mean the respect was for her. She could taste differences like that—he felt only anxiety, though she couldn’t figure why and didn’t really care.
He needed only one look at her cutie mark. “Second Chance, right? You have business?”
She nodded, using the excuse of looking at the bag so he wouldn’t see how guilty she looked. Amber levitated her bag open, lifting her forged note into the air in front of him. “This is f-for the captain,” she squeaked.
The solar guard took the note from her, his expression relaxing. “Come on, filly. Aren’t we past this?” He glanced briefly at the instructions on the outside, which marked the note as for “Captain’s eyes only.”
Amber only blushed, tucking her tail between her legs. The taste of anxiety was gone, replaced with amusement and a sense of general fondness. Whoever this was, he apparently knew Chance.
“That serious, huh?” He turned. “Best come in, then. Captain may have questions for you.” He walked slowly in, levitating the door open behind him. As it opened, raucous laughter came rolling out, ponies joking and singing and generally enjoying themselves. Amber’s mouth started watering at the delicious camaraderie, the joy these guards felt in what they believed to be good work.
Turn yourself in. You know what your mother will do to them. Not in a year had the voice of her memories spoken louder. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.
There’s no mercy for us. Amber followed. The guard waited at the doorway, holding it open for her. Ponies killed hundreds of us during the Canterlot invasion. They’ll kill me too.
I was a stranger and they took me in.
Amber shook her head, clearing away the memories. Maybe this was why queens were always made with the memories of other changelings; other creatures had alien thought-patterns, patterns that couldn’t be easily confined or controlled in her mind. Amber’s mind was a boiling soup of three races, and she was drowning.
The guardhouse was lit not with electric lights but a roaring fireplace, which cast flickering orange on a room of low tables. The half-dozen guards of Ponyville were all here, drinking and singing and sharing in a game with cards.
The smell of alcohol was strong on the air, but it didn’t revolt Amber more than any other kind of food. It was, rather, a distant sort of burning on her nostrils, one she knew without doubt wasn’t for her.
Not that these royal guards would help a minor to drink. They did turn and grin at her. “The apprentice is here!” somepony shouted.
“To the princess!” Somepony lifted their mug, and everyone else joined them, metal cups clinking together with raucous cheers and stomping hooves.
The guard in front of her, with a cutie mark covered with his armor and a name the real Chance would’ve known, ignored the shout, gesturing for her to follow him up the stairs. “Captain’s in his office. Between the two of us, I think it’s just that he’s horseapples at poker.”
Amber nodded, eyes on her hooves. There were so many ponies… so many eyes on her, eyes that might at any moment discover her secret. Guards like these had killed changelings before. It would be better if they did kill you.
The captain’s name was etched onto his door, right along with his cutie mark and the single blue star of the guard. At least Amber could pretend to know him.
Her guide knocked twice, standing alert again.
“I told you salt-lickers I don’t have time to waste on your rutting game!”
The stallion in front of her cleared his throat loudly. “Sir, uh… messenger from the princess. She has a scroll for you.”
“Really?” Amber heard a few more muffled obscenities, and the sound of glass and papers rustling.
Her guide winked, his voice a whisper. “The captain is more relaxed than he wants everypony to think. You don’t need to look so nervous.” He reached out, mussing her mane with one hoof. “You did something with your mane. Princess’s dragon sneeze on you?”
These ponies will die because of you.
Amber forced herself to smile. “You know Spike.” Then more privately, I’m not going to kill anypony!
Of course, she was only arguing with herself. Every man is guilty of the good he did not do.
A light came on under the crack in the door, and the sound of rummaging and rustling stopped. “Come in.”
The guard levitated the door open with a click, stepping inside. The office was a little bigger than Chance’s bedroom, but not much. Instead of a bed there was a desk against the far wall, with numerous medals and plaques mounted to all the walls. The trash-can was stuffed with refuse that looked freshly moved.
For all that, Captain Valiant looked nothing of disorder. His reddish mane was styled and a little reflective, streaked with grey around the edges from age. His yellow coat was clean, and concealed a few wrinkles of his years quite well. His uniform was pressed, shining with medals around his collar.
The guard levitated her scroll onto his desk, setting it there still tied. It’s your last chance. Tell him you’re lying.
Amber didn’t. She stood still, watching as he unrolled the scroll and read quickly over it. His face grew grim as he read the words, though there was something of satisfaction there too. “I knew she wasn’t half the fool everypony said she was.”
The captain looked up, gesturing curtly with one hoof. The guard saluted and left without a word, snapping the door shut behind her.
Amber gulped.
“How much did the princess tell you about this?” He held up the paper, though the back was facing her so she could read very little of the words.
She told you to turn yourself in and tell the guards your mother’s plan. “Not much.” Amber didn’t have to pretend to look uneasy and unsure. “Just that it was really important. She said it was so important it stay secret she couldn’t even tell me.”
Captain Valiant nodded gravely, rolling the scroll back up. “She’s asked me to act immediately, and to send any response through you before you left. Can you remember a simple message?”
Remember? Amber’s eyes widened. Her mother was right about how unprepared these ponies were to face opposition. They had trusted her message just because of who it came from, no seals or passwords or anything. Maybe they deserve to have changelings take over.
Blessed are the meek— Amber silenced the thought, nodding vigorously. “I can, sir.”
“Good.” He rose to his hooves. “You can let her know the guard will be deployed as she requested at once. Got it?”
Amber nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He smiled. “Very good. Best be delivering that right away, Miss Chance.” He advanced towards her, walking around the desk. He drew up a sword from where it leaned against the wall, slinging the scabbard around his neck.
Amber retreated, and very nearly squeaked in terror. Good riddance. Equestria is better off with one less monster.
He didn’t attack, though. Just opened the door for her, his voice low. “I know I can’t tell you what was in that letter, but… best be staying inside tonight. If you see any of your little friends, tell ‘em to stay home too, alright?”
She nodded, practically galloping away from him. She took the stairs two at a time. She tasted appreciation from Captain Valiant as she left, admiration for such a responsible child eager to do her duty. It was a sweet thing, but in her mouth just now it tasted like bile.
Those ponies die tonight because of you. She cried her way back to the library.
The days were not so kind to Second Chance as they had been to the changeling that had replaced her. It was true the burns were not severe, true the voltage hadn’t been enough to do serious damage and that her body would recover on its own.
Second Chance was lucky her brain hadn’t been shorted out. Instead, the nanophage in her brain put her into a near-catatonic state as it self-repaired, consuming muscle and bone and anything else for the materials it needed.
Chance woke feeling not only the effects of the burns, but also the bone-deep hunger of a body consuming itself. She was barely conscious of her surroundings, the whole world a mess of gray blurs she couldn’t distinguish. She could find her way to her saddlebags, which hadn’t been removed from her back. Her coat stank fiercely, and the flesh there was red from irritation, but she didn’t notice that either.
Chance found her ration packs, and chewed them open with her teeth. She sucked the sugary paste from each one, swallowing enough food for a week and still feeling hungry.
She slept some more, couldn’t have said how long. Somepony moved her, from cramped containers that hadn’t felt so bad at the time. She wasn’t even aware enough to realize how filthy she was.
Sometimes ponies gave her water to drink, sometimes they didn’t. Sometimes she saw light through cracks in the ceiling, though she couldn’t tell if it was from the moon or the sun. She heard nothing over her radio, nothing at all from her implants except: Nanophage implants in self-repair mode. Please wait or contact a qualified systems administrator.
She was too tired to even be annoyed.
Eventually something changed. She was led somewhere, struggling to walk but too tired and sluggish to resist. Something removed her saddlebags, and she stood somewhere cold.
Water blasted her from all sides, scorching hot and smelling of chemicals. Her eyes jerked open in shock and sudden pain, and it was like someone lifting a fog from her eyes. Well, maybe it wasn’t the water. Self repair complete. Approximately 20 mg acepromazine neutralized. User should expect mild gastrointestinal distress as the waste is excreted. Error: system damaged. Please consult a certified nano-physician as soon as possible.
As the world came flooding into her eyes, it wasn’t just the hot water that burned at her. Chance looked around, taking in her surroundings. She was standing somewhere made of concrete, with drains in the floor and a row of water jets in the ceiling.
A slow row of ponies marched through the jets, mares and fillies and stallions and colts. They had very little in common, except they all looked dazed, and they were all unicorns.
Strange. Chance didn’t get more time to think about it, because something prodded her suddenly in the side, something harsh and pointed. She wheeled back into line without even thinking about it, forcing her eyes back to the ground the way the other ponies looked.
Outside the lane of ponies were at least a dozen changelings. Chance knew them now, knew them from pictures Twilight had shown her and the books she had read following her first kidnapping. These were the weaker kind of changelings, the drones that came in vast numbers and had attacked Canterlot all those years ago. They weren’t known for their intelligence, at least not from what she had read. Maybe she could pretend not to have woken, and they wouldn’t notice the difference.
It was harder than it seemed. Now that she wasn’t so sleepy, Chance felt fierce agony whenever the jets passed over the tender parts of her back. A little pus and blood dribbled from the openings, and the smell was like death. Nanophage, am I infected?
Affirmative. Subject is suffering from minor bacterial infection likely due to unsanitary conditions and untreated electrical burns. Repair not possible.
She shivered as the water went from searing hot to icy cold, marching forward at the same speed as all the other ponies. So long as she stayed in line, none of the black creatures with their glittering natural armor would goad her. Why is repair not possible?
Subject implants operating in emergency mode only. High-level immune functions not available.
Is it… electrical damage?
Affirmative.
She was almost to the end of the line. The room was filled with fans, blasting a fierce wind on the ponies as though this had been a car wash. Fortunately, the Nanophage didn’t make any sound, and she could still read the messages in front of her even as she started to shiver.
What about your self-repair functions?
System prioritized vital operations. Scavenging less vital implants was required to protect implants in the subject’s brain.
Chance cursed herself again that she had chosen Neuroboost of all the strains to inject herself with. There was good reason the general population didn’t enjoy its intelligence-enhancing and memory-sustaining operations. The cost was a brain that grew dependent on the implants, a brain that could not survive without them. As she had told Twilight Sparkle the day after she had injected herself, removing them would kill her.
The same was true of all strains of the Nanophage, in their own ways. The implants took on much of the work of the subject’s immune system, so failure to repair it would result in death by infection or minor ailment sooner or later. With how sore Chance’s back felt, probably sooner.
Past the tunnel was a desk, a desk with ponies behind it instead of changelings. Well, they looked like ponies. It was impossible to tell for sure with so many of the insect-creatures about. The ponies were what was holding up the line, as they scanned over plastic boxes of… stuff. Chance didn’t look closely, only conscious of the fact that the ponies were giving things to each pony in turn. They were too drugged to resist or argue, just watching as they were given a blanket and various other little objects.
Chance got to the front of the line, and dared an upward glance. The ponies at the table looked… strange, there was no other word for it. Their coats looked muted somehow, like all the color and life had gone from them. The hooves moved in a rigid, mechanical way, and now Chance saw what they were doing.
In the plastic tray was the contents of Chance’s own saddlebags. The two of them searched over it. They pulled out the knife, tossing it into a container behind their desk with a clank.
They ignored her tablet and the medical case, but took her last ration pack. To her horror, they also took the gun, tossing it rotely into their container. One was a mare and one was a stallion, but both were unicorns. Even so, neither used their magic, moving hooves instead with the clumsiness unicorns usually had when they didn’t use levitation.
Chance felt a shiver of revulsion pass through her chest, and she looked back down at the ground. A few moments later and they passed the whole container to her across the table, complete with a threadbare blanket tightly rolled at the front. Neither spoke.
Another pony opened a door just in front of her, with a pink coat that somehow looked too pastel. There was pain in his voice, and fear. Fear for her? “Come with me.”
She didn’t move, staring at him and trying to figure out what disturbed her. She stood in place long enough that the line was forced to stop, and insect anger chittered in the room behind her.
The voice in front of her was more urgent. “Come with me or they’ll hurt you.”
She didn’t resist, hurrying through the door. Chance wasn’t very good about pretending to be drugged from that point on, searching around the halls for any sign of where they were.
The halls were lit with rows of identical electric lights, without a window in sight. The concrete floor looked fresh, and there were cheerful paintings on the walls.
“What is this place?” There were no changelings around, at least, not that she could see.
The pink unicorn stallion didn’t rush, nor did he go slow. He dragged his hooves along, looking almost as drugged as the ponies in the tunnel had. They passed through a cafeteria of sorts, all white painted walls and plain tables. There was a cheerful tropical scene on one wall, the palm trees eerily whitewashed by harsh white light.
“Place,” the unicorn repeated. “Taking you to mares and fillies room. Stay in back—don’t be noticed. Maybe they take you later that way.”
She shivered as she realized just what was bothering her about the stallion. As they left the empty cafeteria, making their way into a long barracks of sorts, Chance saw the side of him. Despite being an adult stallion, there was no cutie mark there, just more faded pink coat. She gasped.
“Yeah.” He seemed to see what she was doing, though he didn’t stop to let her stare. He continued walking through the barracks, past rows of identical bunks. There were ponies in many of them, almost all adult mares but with a few fillies here or there. All were unicorns, and almost all were just as weak and faded as the unicorn who led her. None of those had cutie marks either.
The stallion took her all the way back to the end of the barracks, so far away that the single door was a pale outline. There were very few lights in here, enough that she could just barely see.
“There are two guards by the door. Stay back here, and they might not notice you. Stay hidden whenever they walk around.”
He left. Chance levitated the plastic tray onto an empty bed, ignoring a distant muttering from one of the nearby bunks. All were double, so she took the bottom bunk and covered up in the blanket, in a way she hoped would conceal herself from the ponies at the door.
I need to send a message to Truth. Do I have radio reception?
Radio functions not available while in emergency mode.
Chance muttered a swear, staring at her weaponless saddlebags and thinking. Whoever had kidnapped her had gone to enormous lengths to do it, building a machine that only might attract her to investigate it.
The scale of this place was even bigger than one machine in a warehouse. Was the whole thing underground?
I need to get back to Twilight. She needs to know changelings are trying something in Equestria again. How many barracks just like this were there? Were there hundreds of unicorns trapped down here? Thousands?
Why just unicorns?
Command not recognized.
She groaned, but not too loudly. The stallion who had put her here spoke as though he thought she were still in danger. Only remaining hidden would protect her.
Chance flipped her tablet’s flashlight on, examining her resources. The ponies at the gate had known what a gun was, or at least known it was dangerous. They had taken her knife too, as though she could’ve fought her way out of a place like this anyway. Alexi had always been the fighter—she probably would’ve known how to get out of this.
Aside from her tablet, Chance had her trauma kit, jacket… She stopped, her eyes going back to the trauma kit. The red cross and asclepius of human healing was set into the plastic, along with the english words "Healing is a matter of time, but it is sometimes also a matter of opportunity." Her hooves shook as she undid the clasp, and found the hard plastic pressure cylinders still intact.
Nanophage system.
Ready.
Prepare for interface with supplementary injection… she read from the side of the first red cylinder, universal_trauma_4481 and universal_trauma_4482.
Command acknowledged.
Chance levitated the red injector up to the back of her neck, right where spine met brain, and pressed the trigger. Her neck burned with a brief pain, along with the alien sensation of something cold crawling into her body. It didn’t last long, the pain quickly fading into the stimulants and analgesics included in the injection. She returned the empty tube to her medkit, lifting up the blue cylinder and putting it over her belly. As before she heard the rush of air and felt a brief flash of burning pain, then the sensation faded.
The drugs took away her pain, but they also took away some of Chance’s senses. She barely registered the words: Self repair systems restored, integration of Nanophage strain universal_trauma in progress.
Chance drifted for awhile in the river of time, conscious of little. Ponies near her moaned in some kind of general pain, but she wasn’t really aware of it. She couldn’t have said how long she lay there, awash in the warm feeling of painkillers.
Then she heard a familiar voice. Chance sat up, shaking her way out of the blanket but leaving it covering her possessions. Her ears perked up, listening.
“Celestia… Luna… Precursors… somepony… anypony…” The pony sounded almost like she was praying, though there was a despair in her voice Chance had rarely heard during her time in Equestria. It was like the wailing of the damned souls in Dante’s 8th circle, conscious of how helpless they were and knowing full well nobody would come for them.
Chance glanced once towards the front of the room, but the pair of changelings guarding it weren’t even looking in her direction. Mostly they seemed to be watching the room from the outside.
She got to her hooves, walking slowly and quietly so her steps wouldn’t echo too loud. She didn’t have far to go, just a few more beds down the line. There she found the speaker, twisted up on her blanket and shaking all over.
Lyra Heartstrings looked like a sponge someone had filled full of paint then squeezed dry again. There was no luster in her mint mane, no sparkle in her eye, and no cutie mark on her flank. Chance felt that same twisting of revulsion and horror in her chest, but this time she forced herself not to look away.
She walked along the bed, but the mare didn’t seem to see her. Chance made her way to the side, so that her head was only a few inches above the mare’s. “Lyra?” she whispered, her voice as loud as she could make it without being afraid she would be overheard.
Lyra looked up, focusing as much on Chance’s face as the space around her. She was unmistakably listening at least, which was something. “Honored Precursors…” she muttered, her words slurring. “Please… help me… spare my Bon Bon…”
Chance ignored the words, though she couldn’t ignore the guilt that mixed with confusion in her chest. Lyra Heartstrings was one of the members of an ancient cult turned modern archaeological group called the Precursor Society. Some of its members, Lyra included, still held on to the less modern beliefs.
“What happened to you?” Chance held Lyra’s face in her magic, forcing the unicorn to meet her eyes and not look away.
She tried, fear flashing there through the daze. She struggled a little more, wrapping herself up in the thin blanket. “Dark star…” she muttered, through a wave of faint sobs. “Falling forever… all gone…”
“What’s gone?”
Lyra wasn’t coherent enough to reply. She broke into fierce tears, curling up on herself in bed. Yet even as she seemed incoherent the mare turned up again, her eyes pleading. “Help me… Precursor… please.”
Chance was no Precursor, nor had there ever been any. The gods Lyra prayed to had burned cities full of children and murdered their own planet. Yet for all that, Second Chance was not helpless. Her injections weren’t called “Universal Trauma” for no reason.
Lyra whimpered and moaned as Chance left, grasping feebly towards her with one hoof. “Please… don’t leave…” It was all Second Chance could do not to weep as she heard those words.
She did not stay away long, returning with her remaining two canisters following her in her magic. She stopped beside the bed again, looking serious. They still hadn’t attracted notice—there were plenty of moaning, suffering ponies here. Chance could not help all of them—she hadn’t brought a whole hospital with her.
“Two lives,” she had told Twilight. The first was her own, already dependent on the Nanophage to keep her alive. The second would be Lyra’s.
“Listen to me, Lyra.”
The pony abruptly realized she was there again, falling silent and staring up at her. She was almost like a child. What kind of torture could do this to a pony? She didn’t look tortured—other than the missing color and cutie mark.
“Human science can help you. If I use it, though, you’ll be dependent for life. You can’t undo it.”
“Please…” Lyra squeaked again, reaching toward her. “Precursor… came to Equestria… save us… dark star…”
Chance lowered the first canister with her magic, placing it near Lyra’s neck. She held the other one over the mare’s belly, doing her best guess at where she could find a vein. It didn’t really matter, of course. A vein just meant it would work faster. “Be healed.” She injected both canisters simultaneously, holding them firmly even as the mare started to squirm and buck in bed.
Lyra didn’t fight for long. A few seconds of fighting and she went quiet and still. The twisted pain faded from her face, and she smiled vaguely out at Chance. “Thank… you…”
“Don’t thank me, thank modern medicine.” Chance sat down beside her bed, looking down at the plain concrete floor. “Well technically, I suppose you could just thank morphine. Guess it can even cure… whatever happened to you.”
Some time passed. Chance let herself drift, watching the room without much recognition. Her back stopped burning and started throbbing, and she knew her own body was well on its way to fixing itself. She tried to sleep as she sat, but was too nervous for that, too afraid for what might be waiting for her when she awoke.
Hadn’t she seen Lyra the day before she left? They hadn’t spoken, but the unicorn had seemed well. Either she was stolen the same day, or… or the changelings were involved in that too. Stealing ponies away to replace made enough sense, she supposed. Couldn’t have the real ponies breaking in to spoil the ruse.
Could changelings drain so much from their captives that they were left in this barely-alive stupor? Even if that was true, it didn’t explain why only unicorns had been stolen. Replacing Chance made sense, she was the apprentice of a princess and had a position of influence. But what was the point of replacing a relatively unimportant freelance harpist?
Was Lyra’s position with the Precursor Society important enough to be worth stealing? Chance didn’t actually know enough about the group to know, but judging by the disdain Twilight had expressed when she talked about them…
“Second Chance.” Lyra looked up from the bed, her eyes seeming to focus on her. However much time had passed, the mare looked much better. Color hadn’t really come back to her coat, and her cutie mark was still gone, but it wasn’t as though Chance expected the Nanophage to be able to treat either of those things.
Chance watched her, hooves resting on the empty canisters of Nanophage. “Are you back?”
“I feel strange.”
Someone shouted from the doorway. Chance didn’t really listen—she had been tuning out the business of this place as she focused on Lyra. “Congratulations Lyra, you’re the second pony in history to be treated with nanomedicine.”
Lyra smiled weakly. “That sounds great.” Her face grew more fearful, and she leaned up, glancing towards the door. Chance followed her eyes, watching the group of changelings there. There were nearly a dozen of them, all dark drones with strange lengths of wood levitated in their magical grip. They moved down the line of bunks in a systematic way, selecting ponies and dragging them out into the hall. “Did they take you yet?”
Chance shook her head. “Take me where?”
The unicorn gestured urgently, pulling the blanket up over them. “Quick, get under here! Don’t let them see you!”
Chance didn’t object, hopping up onto the bed, cooler than she expected after Lyra had been resting on it for so long. The mare hastily covered her with the blanket, then moved forward to the front of the bed and sat upright in that strange way of hers.
Chance shivered, trying to be as small as possible. She was a unicorn, which meant she was bulkier than pegasi but slimmer than earth ponies. Would that be small enough not to be noticed?
Insects chittered angrily, and she felt something shift on the bed. A second later and Lyra hit the ground, screeching. “No! Not her!” It made no difference. Something ripped the blanket off her back, and Second Chance was dragged screaming from the room.
* * *
Brigid Curie glided through the halls of the Great Pack’s domain with all the fire of mighty Lugh sweeping behind her. At her step dogs bowed and conversation stilled, as all assembled gave proper respect to their god.
Bree had many bodies now, each one identical to this one. Each one had a fork to drive it, a non-sapient copy of her thoughts and memories that could repeat actions or patterns she had done but never conceive of anything new. The dogs never noticed—never noticed that whenever they asked questions the forks didn’t know how to answer or did something she wasn’t expecting, that there was a brief delay, as Bree switched from one body to another and dealt with the situation personally.
In that way, she was more than a distant leader even to great numbers of dogs. Bree could be their tribal god, bringing order where it was needed and persuasion where dogs required it.
Of course, visiting dogs was only incidental in the mission Bree had given herself this night. She passed into the army cavern, where dogs stood with hard plastic rifles and thin alloy armor on their bodies. Even Leo had to show his identification here, but Bree did not. What mortal would ask their god for ID?
She passed the training cavern without even looking in, hurrying past soldiers that stiffened and saluted as she passed. Leo might be intolerable, she thought as she went, ignoring the dogs and their animal respect. At least all this training civilized them. Walking on two legs all the time and wearing clothes. It’s a start.
She reached the hall the knights used, slowing around the corner. Bree reached up, straightening her hair and brushing a little dust from her white dress. Bree couldn’t have said why she bothered. Either that, or she didn’t want to admit it. He’s so much like Charles.
The door opened at her wave, swinging outward toward her with the grinding of stone on stone. She strode swiftly into the meeting hall, white hem rustling around her legs.
The knight alone waited inside, his own robe as white as her dress in the harsh artificial light. She could dimly hear voices from another cavern, the voices of his “squires.” Well, the fool could play pretend with the dogs all he wanted so long as he did as he was told.
“Lady Brigid Curie.” He brought his fist to his chest in the characteristic Tower salute. “An honor as always to see the appointed regent of our king.” He gestured to one of the chairs, which were larger than was comfortable for humans but still about the same shape. They were more like stone thrones than real chairs.
I bet he was in his fifties when he went cybernetic, she thought, as she made her way to the chair. “The honor is mine, Sir Knight. Your service is a light to our mission and the whole Tower.” She hopped up onto the chair, which was too high off the ground for her feet to reach it. Instead they swung freely, and she frowned at the uncomfortable sensation. Pretending he’s still made of meat, sitting down like he’d get tired. Idiot.
“My light comes from God.” Sir Leonidas did not sit until she had. “I thank you for making time so quickly. This matter is urgent.”
“Too urgent to have used the radio?” She tried to keep the bitterness from her voice. Tried, and mostly succeeded. As though coming here makes the slightest difference. “Our mission requires much of me, Sir Knight. The Tower cannot afford for me to be distracted.”
“Indeed not.” He leaned across the table, seeming either not to notice or to care about her anger. To the knight’s credit, he didn’t react to her child’s body either, hadn’t ever treated her with any less respect than her position demanded. Perhaps slightly more respect. “His Grace knew as I knew that when you came, communication would not be possible. It was wisdom to send a regent as skilled and wise as you. I fear, however, that the direction our mission has taken must soon change.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t actually object. His complaint had been polite enough, so she could do him the respect of paying attention through the whole thing.
“The guards who watch our border have discovered something… disturbing. I know Richard ordered you to conceal our presence at all costs, yet… I wonder if he might change that directive if he saw what we have discovered.”
Bree raised an eyebrow. Leonidas had already tried to get their orders changed a dozen times or so. Often his objections were flimsy, and they knew it.
What Leo really wanted was to return to his friendship with the diarchs, to reassure them that he was well and discover from their own lips what had happened to Equestria and how the old war had ended. Because he was a knight and not a technocrat, the man had no subtlety at all, so he had just told her that the first time they met.
“I doubt it.” Her words were bitter, no longer bothering to restrain her annoyance. “Forgive me Sir Knight, but His Grace was quite specific. I don’t know of anything you could discover that would change our mission.”
“We will see.” Leo reached down with his hands to the holodisplay in front of him.
He doesn’t even use radio control. Of course she didn’t actually say that out loud, or let him hear the laughter which followed. After a few moments of manipulation, the holofield projector set into the table began to glow, an image already floating there waiting for her.
Bree couldn’t restrain a shiver at the sight of the bodies. There were five in all, each one an adult stallion of either the earth or pegasus tribes. They all had their throats cut, and were pierced all over by many other wounds.
“Where was this taken?” Bree collected herself, forcing her voice neutral again. The easiest way to do that was to stare at the table and not think about what she was seeing.
“In one of the exterior burrows. It doesn’t connect with the complex, and no guard was around. One smelled something strange a few hours ago, dug down to investigate, and found this.”
Leo did not look away from gore and death, nor did he look the least bit perturbed by it. He did seem somber, though. “Notice anything about their cutie marks?”
Bree couldn’t help herself. Despite the somber scene, despite the dead and the severity of the situation, she had to choke back a giggle. Only machine discipline made it possible. “Excuse me, their what?”
He gestured with a finger, pointing through the holospace at the bright shield on one of their flanks. “That’s what these are called. Simon told me the name hasn’t changed since I was gone.”
“Cutie marks,” she repeated the word, still sounding amused. Then she looked back up and felt sick all over again, sick that she could possibly find anything about this situation funny. “They’re all… weapons or armor. I’ve seen them on the Equestrian natives before, but I don’t see how they matter.”
“I regret the wise regent has not had the opportunity to familiarize herself with Equestrian culture. Despite the simplicity, I have no doubt the modern variant is just as rich as the ancient.” He gestured, and the image vanished from the holospace.
Bree exhaled, though of course she didn’t actually breathe anymore. Even so, she couldn’t help but feel better. It was wrong for the gruesomely slaughtered to be just laying there like that.
It brought back memories of London, of flattened buildings and bombs screaming as they fell. Of scavengers with thick masks over their head picking through the dead and dying alike with equal coldness. She shivered involuntarily. I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m not weak anymore.
“In any case, the marks demonstrate beyond doubt in my mind these ponies belonged to the guard—Celestia’s Solar Guard, since it was all pegasi and no bats.”
Bree nodded. “I… trust your men can see to a proper burial for them, in keeping with those rich pony customs of theirs.” Bree shook her head. “Don’t take me for callous, Sir Knight. It pains me greatly that this fate has befallen the Equestrians. Even so, I do not see how this changes our mission. Equestria is itself still a barbarian place. The ponies have made of it what they could, but that doesn’t mean it’s free of danger. We cannot get involved because a few soldiers die.”
“Indeed not.” Leonidas rose to his feet suddenly, a towering figure of dark skin and strong muscle. There was nothing childlike or graceful in those features. “Were this some skirmish, we might never have known what had caused it. I probably would have guessed their demise came at the hands of some monster from the Everfree, which is very near and full of wild creatures.”
Bree stood too, though her head barely reached the table. She probably could’ve stood on the chair and not been even close to a height with Leo. At least the king isn’t yelling at you again.
Of course, there was a still darker thought. What will Richard do when he discovers Tesla and I lied to him? Bree prayed she would never learn the answer.
Leo was still speaking. “I sent my squires to scout the whole territory and secure it. Dogs are always traveling out by night, I could not allow one of them to be hurt by whatever enemy had killed these ponies.”
She nodded, walking around the table so she could get a better look at him. “You do your duty well, Sir Knight. Our guard could have no better captain.” Even as she said the words, she felt dread growing in her chest. He wouldn’t tell me all this if he hadn’t found something.
Leo turned and shouted down one of the doorways that led into the squire’s barracks. “Bring the prisoner!”
Metal armor clanked as the squire came into view, dragging something along behind her. Yuna might be a female, but she stood taller than Leo and that was without powered armor. With it, metal joints glittering and servos grinding, she was nearly as large as the doorway. She held thick rope in both of her gloved paws, dragging until she was only a few feet away from Bree.
The young technocrat briefly disconnected herself from the puppet body, returning herself to virtual space. She dropped onto her knees and wretched in pure, animal instinct. There was no pain, and nothing came from her lips.
No pain but the one she remembered, from when she had been biological and subject to the weaknesses of flesh.
Bree snapped back to herself fast enough that she hoped none of the others would notice, straightening. “—interrogated it thoroughly. I am quite confident the beast is honest with me.” Leo’s voice, colder than a grinding glacier.
She forced herself to follow the rope to the pony on the end again. Well, it was only vaguely pony-shaped. Its skin was black and shiny, more like a bug’s exoskeleton than a pony’s coat. It had hooves and stood slightly smaller than an equestrian adult, with transparent wings on its back and a curved horn.
It might’ve been cute, had it not been tortured. She couldn’t look at the bleeding stumps that looked like they had once held antennae. Its horn had been hacked off as well, its whole body was torn with many wounds.
Wounds that could’ve come from the short knife Leo kept always at his belt. “Why?” She interrupted him, unable to hide her horror. “Why would you do this?”
Knights were supposed to be good! Bree was the one lying to the king, the one planning to take over Equestria! Knights of the Tower had a code, and honor, and all that stuff! Worse, Leonidas was more than just any knight. Leonidas was the knight mothers told stories about to their children. The unsoiled champion of the east God himself had taken to his bosom.
As Leo spoke, insect eyes looked up at Bree with unmistakable horror. “What one changeling sees the whole swarm may know. Without its antennae, however, it is powerless to report us. Even drones can kill with their magic… though they are mostly likely to kill themselves to prevent capture and interrogation. We didn’t give it the chance.”
Leo walked up beside the terrified captive, thick rope tied about its neck and green blood seeping from its wounds. “Tell the lady regent what you told me. What does the swarm intend for Equestria?”
It squeaked in a barely-intelligible slur of pain and loathing. “Invasion!”
Second Chance found herself corralled into a large line of ponies, with leering changelings preventing any escape she might’ve attempted. There were perhaps half a dozen ponies, all adults save for herself. Of course, what she noticed even sooner was how alive the ponies looked.
“Do you know what’s going on?” she whispered to the pony beside her, an older mare with a little gray in her mane.
“No!” Her voice was an urgent squeak. “I just woke up here! This can’t be allowed, can it?”
“No.” Chance sighed. “I don’t think it is.”
They joined up with another group of ponies somewhere in the halls, stallions and colts instead of mares, though all were unicorns and all still had their cutie marks. They walked for a while through the strange plain hallways, which seemed mostly empty and unused. Whatever this place was, it was way bigger than what was actually being used.
That wasn’t to say none of the ponies fought back. As they turned a bend, a stallion with a white coat and yellow mane turned and blasted the changeling about to prod him with a wave of telekinetic force.
Drones weren’t as big as ponies, and this one was no exception. It went flying, striking a stone wall with a painful crunch. As one, the other drones all around him descended with hisses and furious screeches, piling atop the stallion and slamming into him over and over with the butts of their weapons. Nopony else fought after that, and the stallion had to be dragged along with the group. Apparently whatever fate was waiting for them couldn’t be delayed by a beating.
Chance did learn one useful thing, though she had no way to communicate it. The changelings she saw didn’t carry spears as she had first thought, or clubs. Instead, each one levitated a rifle along in front of it, like something that could’ve been used in the American Revolution, save that they weren’t so long.
The stallion was lucky they hadn’t used their bayonets.
Chance herself toyed with the idea of trying to teleport to safety. Toyed with it, except that she knew even with her best possible range she would be limited to a few city blocks, and nearly unconscious on the other end.
Even if the “thaumcraft node” in her implants was still working, she needed a sympathetic connection to wherever she wanted to go. If she knew where this building was located, if she had seen a single window and could look outside to see somewhere she could flee too, then teleportation might’ve worked.
As the line moved, the ponies in front of her growing solemn and almost placid, Chance considered her other options. She kept trying radio pings to Truth, which she knew wouldn’t work unless she was in Ponyville or near a repeater antenna, but she still tried anyway.
Damn these changelings and knowing about firearms. This planet did have firearms, though last time she had checked it was only the griffons and minotaurs who used them. Could changelings learn to manufacture guns?
The line stopped in front of a plain door, apparently no different from the others but with a pair of armored changelings standing outside instead of the regular drones. They were lined up against the wall, and there they waited, while one pony at a time was let inside.
Ponies huddled together in fear, whispering what they thought might be waiting for them once they got inside. Chance wanted to offer comfort to them, but of course she had no comfort to give.
Chance didn’t know any better than they did. No ponies emerged from the room on the other end—either there was another exit, or ponies didn’t survive.
She wasn’t stupid. Whatever happened in there probably didn’t kill a pony, it… somehow hurt them and took their cutie marks away. What process could do that? Chance knew almost nothing about cutie marks—hadn’t even been conscious when she got her own. Even so, she knew what every school filly knew, that a cutie mark was the connection between magic itself and every pony.
What did it mean if that connection was taken away?
Nanophage system.
Ready.
Are you still in emergency mode?
No delay. Negative. This unit has entered stage two recovery mode. Advanced features are still not available. Functionality should return to normal over the next 24 hours.
Do you have access to the internal medical database?
Affirmative. Database access is available even in emergency mode.
Figures. She slid forward another space along the wall, amidst terrified whimpering from the pony being led inside. Chance was at the very back of the line, right behind the only other child here. This one was a colt, slighter younger than she was with an inky mane. She didn’t pay him much mind.
Command not recognized.
She ignored her desire to scream. A little over a week ago, this subject suffered an injury, correct?
She cut off the implant with a silent command. What are the symptoms of thaumic starvation?
She moved forward in line again. She could see the door clearly now, only a few more places ahead of her in line. She could hear deep voices conversing beyond the door, though she couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.
Weakness, headaches, disorientation, or unconsciousness. Prolonged sufferers experience tissue damage consistent with radiation exposure, an increased risk of cancer—
Chance shivered. While it was true that “weakness and disorientation” could be caused by almost anything, it was also true that the ponies she had seen here matched those symptoms remarkably well.
Could someone in there be removing magic from ponies? Chance couldn’t even begin to imagine how that was possible. Yet when she had looked on the ponies in the barracks, that was exactly what she had felt. The profound wrongness that came from something sacred taken away and despoiled.
It was a decent theory, but it didn’t really help her. Didn’t help as the colt in front of her was shoved roughly through the door to his fate, and she was left alone outside it. Only three of the changeling drones remained outside to watch her, their eyes never leaving her and their weapons pointed in her direction.
Could she take three changeling drones in a fight? Not if they knew how to use those guns. Besides, if she did fight them, what would she do? She had seen hundreds of their kind in the massive structure, hundreds that could all come running if she tried anything to escape. No attempt was likely to succeed that didn’t get her immediately out of the hooves of these ponies.
Chance considered. She planned, plotting every escape attempt she could imagine. Every hallway they had used was still mapped perfectly in her mind. Maybe if she got past these three, she could make it back to the barracks, and…
And what?
Apparently nothing, because the door went swinging open, and one of her guards shoved her bodily inside. Before she could strike back, before she could try some vain and perhaps suicidal escape attempt… she was trapped inside.
The room was not well lit. There was a fire burning somewhere in the distance, but it wasn’t bright enough for pony eyes and gave her only vague suggestions. She saw a pair of dim outlines standing by the door behind her—more armored drones with their rifles. Neither seemed to much care about her, other than putting themselves between her and the door.
“Is it safe, the pony wonders.” The voice was strange, old and stretched and very feeble. The Equestrian sounded harsher somehow, though Chance couldn’t have said what gave her that impression. “What happened to the ones who came in before her?”
Chance froze in her tracks as she finally realized what her magical senses were telling her. For a second—and only a second—it seemed as though she had been ripped from her body, up into the higher order spaces upon which all reality was anchored.
The world of bodiless existence defied all sane description among third-dimensional beings, but still she saw something. Two somethings, actually.
One was a familiar form, a form made of countless mad forms of non-platonic chaos as they boiled up from ether, merging and reforming and joining in upon themselves. Discord.
The other shape was something stranger, something no younger but somehow worse. Chance thought she saw a dark star burning in the void, an angry red eye marred with horrible spots. Forgotten secrets whispered in that darkness, drawing images of tortures unremembered in a mind that had tried very hard to forget.
Second Chance slammed back into her own body, shaking from the force of the terrible impact and barely able to stay on her hooves.
The terrible voice whispered in the dark again, and she knew it wasn’t Discord’s. It didn’t seem to be speaking to her anymore, either. “Now that was interesting. You never told me ponies could possess such powers in these times.”
“They don’t.” For the year that separated Chance from her last meeting with Discord, his voice was utterly unchanged. He sounded always on the edge of joy and strange pride, more impressed with himself than he had any right to be.
Chance felt something tug at her hooves, like the levitation of a unicorn but irresistibly strong. It yanked the ground right out from under her, dragging her across the room and scraping her flank up as she went.
She moaned, kicking out against the invisible force. It was gone already of course, leaving her unmolested in the gloom. Well, maybe not quite so dark as before. She could make out a strange bulk beside the fire, though the shape her eyes suggested did not match any Equestrian creature she knew. Is that a centaur?
Of course, the figure on the other side of the single small torch did not take bright waves of light to identify. The mismatch of parts would’ve been clear to her even in darkness, without the need for an out-of-body vision.
This close to him, Chance’s magical senses told her something that didn’t make sense. There was a pull coming from the centaur creature, a sense of gravity that didn’t pull her body, but seemed to be attracting her magic. It was unlike anything she had felt, even among powerful beings like Celestia or Luna.
Chance lept to her hooves. She had been frightened of changelings, frightened of the beating they might give her and what might be waiting beyond the door. Chance might be afraid, but Kimberly Colven would not be. Kimberly had not shaken in the face of death. “Did your friendship with Equestria not mean anything to you, Discord? Could you really be working with monsters who could make a place as horrible as this?”
The vague outline of Discord shifted in the faint light. It was hard for her to tell, but it looked as though he wasn’t meeting her eyes.
He didn’t answer, but the other figure did, laughing in that old voice. “The only evil Discord ever did was betray his own nature. I suspect you know that evil well, since you yourself have given yourself a pony body to wear. We both know you’re something greater.”
“Ponies are a loving, compassionate race.” Her voice came out braver than she felt. “This does not make them lesser.”
“No,” the voice responded. “Their weakness makes them lesser.” He laughed, like the last cackles of a madman with a dagger in his lungs. The fire surged up beside him, and in that light Chance briefly saw his face.
The monster was a centaur, with black fur on most of his body but shaved red skin on his arms. Its body did not look living, but shriveled and desiccated. Fur had patches of gray, and she could even see his ribs. The monster’s eyes were black, with little yellow pinpricks of light in each one like dying suns.
“You stand here and defend them, yet you stand, don’t you see? Grown stallions four times your age quivered and trembled in my presence! Few could even speak for their terror.” He laughed again, eyes narrowing. “The age of ponies is ending, traveler. No doubt you had your own reasons for walking among them.”
He sat back, and his smile of wicked teeth was far worse than his anger. “Freedom is far better than friendship. Why shouldn’t we change this world until it serves us better?”
“She can’t.” Discord’s voice was matter of fact, and he still didn’t look at her. “Kimberly here comes from a world without magic. What power she has she borrowed from Equestria.”
“Is that so?” The toothy smile in the firelight faded, replaced with the empty cold of the void. “Not even your world is of use to me, then.”
From his sitting position, the monster rose, suddenly towering above her on spindly legs. “You will bow to Equestria’s new ruler as the ponies before you have done.”
Kimberly did not retreat, didn’t look away or lower her head. “My teacher is the best wizard in all Equestria! When she finds you, she’ll unmake all the pain you caused! And Celestia… when she finds you, she’s going to throw you screaming into the void! I’ve seen her do it.”
The monster’s dreadful laughter returned more raucous than before. She could practically hear the bones grinding together. “The pony princess has bones of glass and will of water.” He gestured vaguely at his side. “You see her plan? Her champion serves me now.”
“Serves the planet now.” Discord didn’t argue, not exactly. He did look up, though still he avoided Chance’s own eyes. “We’re going to make it safe, remember? No more Outsiders ever again.”
“Yes, yes.” Tirek waved one of his bony hands dismissively “I said bow, pony. You will show proper respect to Equestria’s new sovereign.”
Kimberly did not bow. “I met worse than you on the invisible road.” Her horn surged to life, her filly’s magic crackling and glowing the same color as her eyes. Thaumcraft node active.
I need the most dangerous attacking spell you have, right now!
“Amusing. You wish you strike me?” The monster reared up, spreading his arms in a passive gesture. “That feeble body is no threat to me.”
Atomic destabilization field spells are known to cause fatal side-effects if cast upon a target within a thirty kilometer radius. User confirmation required.
Yes! Do it! Chance’s mind was assaulted then, drowned with a thousand different shapes and runes and patterns. The spell filled her until there was no room for anything else.
The air in front of Chance split down the middle, torn apart by the force of gray magic. The room’s doors were blown right off their hinges even as the torch went out. Anything that wasn’t bolted down went slamming into the walls away from her.
A lance of nighted blackness blasted towards the monster, crackling with unmaking fire. Chance had never seen magic like this, yet on some deep level she recognized it anyway. It was the darkest of magic, the kind that could take something real and make it unreal. The kind of magic that left scars on the world that never healed.
A dark star grew in the void, a star of swirling yellow and nighted blackness without end. Kimberly’s lance, a lance that might’ve killed the monster and Kimberly herself and everypony else in the building… never struck. Instead of striking him, the magic unraveled, fading to a feeble gray glow as it neared him.
The monster swallowed it, then chewed as though it were something physical.
Chance collapsed, the strength gone from her limbs. Such a powerful spell required great strength from her—though less than she had expected. She wasn’t unconscious.
“A respectable effort,” the monster said, nodding toward her. “There are few wizards with the skill for true unmaking. Far fewer who would dare to use it. Pity.” He opened his mouth again, wider and wider and wider. Chance felt the pulling again, about the base of her horn.
She could scarcely put her revulsion into words. An irresistible force penetrated her magical defenses, thrusting aside whatever resistance she might’ve shown. A force that pulled and pulled and pulled, tearing deep gouges in her as it dragged every last drop of magic from her soul.
Chance collapsed like a pony strangled, shivering and whimpering no less pathetic than any of the ponies in the barracks.
The whole world went gray, colors all blurring and fuzzing together. No, that wasn’t quite right. Chance could see the flicker of the torch as Discord replaced it, still see all the browns and tans and yellows of his body. She just didn’t care.
From the other doorway, the one she hadn’t used, a pair of changelings emerged, bearing a stretcher between them in their magic. “You want to be one of them so badly, traveler? Go and join them then.” The monster turned away, but Chance no longer cared. She stared down at her hooves, wondering what she had been so angry about a few moments before.
She hardly even felt it as the changelings loaded her onto the stretcher and carried her from the room.
* * *
Twilight Sparkle was not in Ponyville when morning came. Instead she stood in the throne room of Canterlot Castle, swimming in the sea of colors beaming in through the many stained glass windows. She didn’t gallop up the path, despite how nervous she felt.
The eyes of three other Alicorns watched her as she made her way to the base of the throne, nodding towards each one in turn. “Celestia, Luna, Cadence. I came straight here as soon as I got your letter.” She held up the scroll, still a little singed around the edges from Spike’s dragonfire.
The princesses were not on their thrones. Of course Cadence had no throne here, but tucked away in the Crystal Empire far to the north. Twilight resisted the temptation to ask some inane question about her brother.
“Is it…” She swallowed ‘is it true.’ Obviously the Sun Princess wouldn’t have sent her a letter unless it was true. Among those who knew her well, Celestia was notorious for her pranks.
Yet for all the impressive scale of some she had seen, this did not seem in the spirit of any Celestia had tried. More than that, Luna didn’t really “get” any of it, and Twilight had never seen the dark princess involved.
Wanting it not to be true won’t make it that way. She shivered all over, then forced the words out she didn’t want to ask. “Did Discord really… really betray us?”
Luna nodded, her expression fierce. “There can be no doubt of it. He did not merely fail in his intended mission to capture—such might’ve been expected at first.”
Celestia continued where her sister left off, walking slowly toward Twilight. “Tirek’s power has grown so great he can feed on pegasi. As of late last night, he was seen attacking weather teams in Fillydelphia. I sent a detachment of the Solar Guard to investigate, some of my fastest fliers. They returned with… disturbing news.”
“Discord!” Luna practically shouted, the whole castle rumbling with the force of her anger. “We should have known his loyalty to Equestria was feeble. Our ponies saw the fiend helping Tirek, gathering pegasi right out of the sky for him to…”
Cadence visibly shook, and even Celestia looked uncomfortable. None of them needed to finish Luna’s thought.
Twilight found herself feeling suddenly sick. She had spoken to Discord, when she had thought he was well on his mission and near to finishing it. He had said strange things to her that night, things that hadn’t made sense to her at the time. Had he already betrayed them, even then? “So… So you need me to gather up the Elements again? I’m sure the girls and I—”
Celestia shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid not, Twilight. Your friends are noble ponies, but the Elements of Harmony are no longer available to us. We will need to find another way.”
“We have called thee on a more pressing need.” Luna approached her from the other side, as though the princesses were surrounding her. It was a little disconcerting. “Tirek can steal only so much magic from mortal ponies before he realizes each new abomination brings him diminishing returns. Sooner or later, he will come for Alicorn magic.”
Cadence looked sad. “You already know magic can’t be destroyed, only moved. We need to hide Equestria’s Alicorn magic, or else be faced with an immortal enemy.”
Twilight lowered her head. “I understand. I’ll… I’ll give up my magic, if that’s what it takes to make Equestria safe.” She wondered if her mentor understood what Twilight would be giving up. Magic was, after all, Twilight’s whole world. Or at least it had been, until she moved to Ponyville. That Twilight probably wouldn’t have been able to make a sacrifice like this.
“No.” Celestia’s voice was firm, harsher than Twilight had heard in a long time. “Tirek knows of my sister and I, so neither of us could take it away without being discovered.”
“And I don’t know how to fight.” Cadence didn’t sound shy about it. If anything, she sounded proud.
“Fight?”
Celestia nodded. “Your new task is a simple one, Princess Twilight. Take our magic, and discover a way to stop Tirek. Do whatever you must to return him to Tartarus.” Her eyes burned then, her mane flickering more like fire than pastel light. “Tirek is not like the others you have faced, Twilight. He is a monster, and he has done monstrous things to our little ponies. If he ever takes Equestria for his own, he will do worse.”
“I understand.” Twilight gritted her teeth, flexing her wings. They still felt a little strange against her back. “I’ll do it.”
Twilight lowered her head again, waiting for the spell to begin. She didn’t really know what to expect. So she watched as the three other princesses surrounded her in a rough triangle. Watched magic glow from horns all pointed at her.
“I give you love,” Cadence said. “I give you the force invisible that can turn armies and crush nations. I give you the will to fight, the joy to create and of new lives kindled.”
Magic washed over her, magic beyond anything Twilight had felt before save once. Her whole body shook with it, coat beginning to stand on end. She opened her eyes and light poured out, and in that light she could see. See the bonds of friendship between herself and Cadence, the motherly affection Celestia felt for her, and the bone-deep sisterhood Luna and her brighter sister shared. She saw the love they all felt for the ponies of Equestria, and in it she wept.
“I give you darkness,” Luna whispered. “I give you the softness of dream and the wisdom of rest. Last I give you death, and in it the end from the beginning.”
Twilight hung weightless above an endless sea of stars, stars that came to life in little flashes in her mane. Unlike Rarity’s Gala dress, each one was technically accurate. Even in the daylight outside Twilight could feel them watching, and thousands upon thousands of dreams from ponies still asleep, like an endless sea.
Only one voice had the strength to cut through the alien feelings drowning her. “I give you the light,” Celestia said. “The day that brings life to plants and ponies and joy to their hearts. I give you the fires of hearths and summers, and the purity that cleanses all things.”
Twilight screamed as the magic struck her, lifting her into the air and sending her spinning. Her mane began to wave to an unseen wind, glowing with the light that came just before night. The air rippled with the heat of stars boiling just above her coat, and yet she felt no pain.
Her whole body burned with power, and in that power came understanding. Twilight Sparkle saw the atoms spinning in their course, felt the moon as it orbited and the stars as they related. She looked upon Equestria and knew it from one end to the other, in ways she hadn’t imagined before.
A power like this could end the world, she thought to herself, shivering at how matter-of-fact it seemed. Or take the ash and make it anew.
Princess Twilight Sparkle did not land awkwardly, tripping over her own hooves as she had done so many times before. She settled down on her hooves with the grace of a thousand lifetimes, her veins burning with a power no living pony had ever known.
The princesses had changed. Ethereal manes no longer waved, and their flanks were bare. Twilight embraced her mentor, holding her tight. For once, it was she who gave the comfort, and not the other way around.
“Save our ponies.” Luna’s voice no longer had any of its melody, nor did it echo with the songs of distant stars. She only sounded afraid. “You’re the only pony who can.”
“I will.” She hugged each princess in turn, knowing she was the only comfort they would have for some time. If Tirek did come for them, there was no telling what he might do.
“Princess!” The shout came from the open doorway, loud and urgent.
Celestia looked up, her mane no longer flowing and her expression drained. “Yes?”
A pair of solar guards galloped into the room, skidding to a stop only a few feet away. Both were either so panicked they didn’t notice the change in the princesses, or else too respectful to point it out. Whatever the case, the guard continued right where he left off. “Ponyville is under attack!”
“What?” Twilight and Luna asked, almost at the same moment. Despite her weakness, the Lunar Princess was the one who continued. “Tirek?”
“No!” The other guard bowed to her too, then continued. “A changeling army! Bigger than the one that besieged Canterlot!”
“Attack might be too generous.” The first guard gesticulated wildly with one hoof. “The village only has a squad to protect it, and we don’t see any sign of them. They never would’ve stood a chance, really. The town’s occupied. From the looks of it, changelings are digging trenches and rounding up the population as we speak.”
Chance! The thought came unbidden into Twilight’s mind, with a wave of horror she couldn’t entirely repress. She wasn’t worried about Spike—the dragon was more dangerous than he looked, and plenty capable of taking care of himself.
Her apprentice, on the other hand, had nearly gotten herself killed two days ago. She had already been attacked by changelings once before, and the scars had taken time to heal.
Twilight only barely heard Celestia’s words. “Why Ponyville? We can see it from Canterlot… and there aren’t any strategic targets there now that the Elements are gone.”
“What do we do?”
The Elements. That thought didn’t bring Twilight an image of magical stones imbued with various aspects of friendship. It had once, years and years ago. Now when she thought of it she imagined her friends. Some were delicate, some were strong, and all were in danger.
She found all eyes on her. The princess didn’t answer, staring at her and apparently waiting for her say. Twilight balked, looking to Luna. “Aren’t you… in charge of the army?”
Luna frowned. “I feel… I feel uneasy about this. But I have many reasons to feel uneasy.”
“How many changelings are there attacking Ponyville?” Twilight found herself feeling more decisive than she ever had before around the princesses. Of course, she no longer felt the awe of their magic. It was all in her, packed in so tight she felt like she might explode.
“We guess… about five thousand, princess.”
Twilight shivered. That was two changelings to every pony in ponyville, with plenty to spare for the farmland all around. “How many Solar and Lunar Guards are in Canterlot right now?”
The guards looked unsure, but Luna didn’t. “Twice that many. Many more in reserve in all the cities round about.”
Twilight looked to Celestia for approval. “I think… we should do something about the enemy we can fight, even if there’s another we can’t. The army wouldn’t have done us any good against Tirek… but they can help my friends.”
“They can.” Luna looked up, and for a second it seemed as though she would fall over on her hooves. She didn’t though, and she fixed the soldier with an icy stare. “Mobilize the guard. You go to retake Ponyville as soon as you are able.”
“Yes, Princess.” They both bowed, turning to gallop back out of the throne room. Twilight could hear them shouting the orders before they even made it to the door.
“You can’t lead them.” Celestia’s voice was matter of fact. “Tirek will be able to find you once he knows what he is looking for. A mighty Alicorn leading our army would be a sign so obvious he couldn’t miss it no matter where he fought from.”
“B-but… my friends!” Twilight gestured vaguely with one hoof, and lightning crackled from the end of it. Entirely without her will, the energy lanced forth, striking a stone wall and cracking it a dozen times.
“Calm thyself, Twilight.” Luna rested a feeble wing on Twilight, however briefly. “Changelings do not kill, remember. They harvest. Your friends will be rescued.”
“What…” She lowered her voice, turning back to Celestia. She spoke very quietly. “My daughter… Spike… I can’t leave them.”
Celestia nodded very slightly. “Get them out, then. The ponies of Ponyville already know an Alicorn lives amongst them, so… resist the temptation to fight off the invasion yourself. I suspect you could do it, but it would cost you much power.”
“And our secret.” Cadence sounded weakest of all, her shoulders slumped. She looked like she could barely hold herself awake.
Luna nodded her agreement. “Even thy close friends could cost Equestria everything, if they were to discover what we hath done. The time Tirek wastes in the vain quest for our magic is time you need to find the solution.”
“I understand.” Twilight prepared a teleportation spell almost without thinking about it. Possessed of the power of all Equestria’s Alicorns, Twilight could see as never before she had seen. Before the might of her magic all creation was dust.
Yet there could be subtlety in that. Twilight Sparkle could already teleport. Now she used that bridging to make the way open between the throne room and the library, as she had done so many times before.
There was no opening the void, no shunting herself through higher-dimensional space. Twilight simply willed it, and space itself bent.
With power like that, Twilight could even stop Tirek. Right?
“Are they getting in?” Spike’s voice came from the back wall, clutching at something at his chest. His claws shook visibly, but Amber didn't need to watch to know how the dragon was feeling. Spike couldn’t have hidden his emotions from her even if he wanted to.
Fear was not an emotion Amber had tasted often since coming to Ponyville, and it wasn’t one she liked. Fear was acrid, like a pile of rubber tires burning on a cold day. Fear wasn’t just coming from within the library. It was a flood from just outside the windows, a flood Amber was powerless to escape. It’s your fault. The guards could’ve got reinforcements from Canterlot last night if you told them what was coming.
“No.” Amber peered out the window, watching as a pair of drones slammed themselves bodily into the space just in front of the library. There was no other way to describe it—the way the air grew briefly solid, shimmering with lavender magic, before throwing them bodily aside. “The wards are holding.”
“If you say so.” Spike stood, moving cautiously toward her from where he had been resting.
Amber was only a little surprised to see what he was holding was one of the stun pistols Chance had made. Didn’t do her much good though, did they? “See?” She gestured outside, as the drones continued their vain assault of the library. There was no sign of the wards failing, for which she was grateful.
“Y-yeah.” Spike watched, though he seemed to barely see the drones attacking their library. Mostly he looked out on the rest of Ponyville, eyes wide with terror.
Twilight Sparkle had powerful wards on this library, meant to protect it from physical and magical threats both. None of the wards was mighty enough to keep the screams of terror from finding their way in, though. They heard those clearly, right along with the shouts of battle and the screams of pain as ponies fell. Somewhere, a building had started burning, casting half the town in angry red light.
Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair. Amber banished the angry memory, though it was getting harder and harder to do. She wanted to ask her mother about it, just as she had learned so many other mysteries. But Queen Chrysalis was not here, nor was she anywhere close enough to talk to. Everything made so much sense when I was with her. Why doesn’t it now?
As usual, the alien’s memories answered. It is impossible to do good by evil means. Amber wasn’t so sure she believed most of what the alien had thought she knew so well.
She was happy, and ponies loved her. Who loved me? Well, her mother. The Queen of all Changelings had given her plenty of love to survive her first year of life. But had that been love Amber eared from her, or energy she invested as part of preparing her for this very mission?
Why should it matter? She gave it to me, that’s what matters. The pony memories didn’t seem to think so.
Amber frowned as a group of ponies darted from building to building, trying their best to hide from the chaos as thick flights of drones buzzed overhead.
Spike noticed them too, because his eyes suddenly went wide. “Chance, look! I think the girls are coming!”
She swallowed her fear and looked. It couldn’t be all of them, it was only three adults. She knew them by sight, though Chance had only really known the white one and so she was the same way. Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack. Why those three?
“We should get down there! They’ll need somebody to let them in!”
Amber nodded, though she felt more of reluctance and fear than any desire to let Twilight’s friends in.
Spike took the stairs three at a time, sliding and bouncing and rolling but not seeming to care. “I’m coming, Rarity!” He sprinted for the front door, jumped for the handle, then yanked it open.”
Harsh red light came in through the open door, the light of fire thick with smoke and anger. Amber took in the scene, staring.
There were six ponies, not three. She hadn’t noticed the fillies, but now she saw them clearly, hooves pressed desperately to the invisible barrier. It didn’t throw them as it had done the changelings, since of course it used proportional force to whatever was used on it.
The drones that had been trying to get through the barrier had found a new target. Between Applejack and Rainbow Dash, it looked like they were holding their own quite well, except… that fighting these two drones would mean the rest of the hive-mind would know they were here now, vulnerable. “Chance dear, if you would be so good as to tell your wards to let us in… we have some friends of yours we would like to deposit somewhere safe!”
“Yeah!” Spike looked expectantly up at Amber, urgent. “Tell the wards to let ‘em in!”
Second Chance might know how to do that, but Amber didn’t have a clue. She whimpered, dropping onto her haunches and starting to cry. She had a chance to protect a few ponies from the awful things she had done, and she couldn’t even do that. The man who lives by the sword shall perish by the sword.
Spike groaned, shoving her out of the way with sudden dragon strength. He reached up, finding a place carved into the wood that had been beside Amber. “The master of this house welcomes kind visitors,” he recited.
The wards flickered one last time, then the light went out. “Quick!” He didn’t take his claw from the wall. “Anything can get in!”
Applejack gave the drone she was fighting one last buck, sending it careening into the other with a sickening sound. The other ponies hurried across the gap, rushing through the open doorway.
Spike removed his claw, and not a second too soon. The barrier flashed to life as several more drones struck it from different directions. A few of them had been flying, and turned into a green pulp on impact.
Amber shivered as they died, feeling the brief pain of the hive even though she was specifically isolating herself from it.
“Ah reckon ya’ll ought to get inside.” Applejack gestured to the open library door. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle hurried inside, but Apple Bloom lingered. She wore her strange, metal contraption, strapped tightly to her limbs and body with soft fabric.
“But ah wanna help! Ah can fight almost as good as you!”
“Sorry sugarcube.” None of the adults were coming in, resting just within the barrier. “Maybe if ya’ were older. You worry ‘bout keepin’ yer little friends safe.”
“Hurry up, Applejack!” Rainbow hovered in the air just above the ground, scanning the sky all around them. Their little mission was attracting more and more drones, which struck the wards so often now they never vanished, lavender magic burning under constant stress.
“Now now, Spike.” Rarity’s magic flared, and there was a brief ring of steel. A polished white rapier hovered just in front of her now, a single purple gem set into the pommel. The edge looked so sharp it hurt Amber to even look. “A proper lady has many talents.” She reached out, resting a hoof briefly on the side of his head. “Protect the fillies, won’t you?”
He nodded, squaring his shoulders. “Of course! You… You should get going. I’m not sure how much stress Twilight’s wards can take at once.”
Applejack gave her sister one last pointed glance, burning with love and concern. It was so thick in the air Amber could taste it even though it wasn’t for her.
“Alright.” Apple Bloom moped her way past them, motors whirring as she did.
They watched from the porch as the three adult ponies charged back out into the fray. Drones slamming themselves into the wards from all sides suddenly had a far easier target, and they buzzed after the galloping ponies.
They didn’t get to see what happened next, as the adults disappeared into the chaos of the town proper.
“Well…” Apple Bloom glared down at the ground from beside them. “If we’re gonna be stuck in here, might as well make ourselves useful.” She looked up towards Amber. “Ya’ think Truth might know somethin’ we can use to protect Ponyville?”
Scootaloo looked just as unhappy, despite her new cutie mark. “Maybe that artifact we got could help! He’s gotta be finished figuring out what it does by now!”
Sweetie Belle cleared her throat, tossing her white saddlebags onto the ground in front of them. “Before I forget, Rarity gave me something to share.” Even as she said it, Amber heard a second voice in her mind. It wasn’t the voice of memory this time, as she had heard so many times before.
This was no hallucination or unbidden recollection. Sweetie Belle spoke with the voice of a drone, though a drone far more intelligent and confident than the average. The Great Queen sends orders.
“Woah.” The fillies stared down in wonder at “Rarity’s” gifts. There were four glittering daggers, each with a different colored gemstone set into the hilt. They were quite beautiful, wrought of steel and white gold. Amber felt familiar magic burning around each one, her mother’s magic.
What orders? She met “Sweetie Belle’s” eyes, shivering in spite of herself. If one of Chance’s friends had been killed because of her…
Your involvement with the new princess is no longer required. She sends these weapons enhanced to kill an Alicorn. Slit her throat while she sleeps. If she is awake, she will be able to repair the damage before it kills her.
The words brought bile up in her throat, and Amber almost vomited right there. She couldn’t stop herself from stiffening, and memories unbidden of Twilight’s kind face returned to her.
Chance’s friends didn’t seem to notice, each one of them slipping the scabbard around their necks and looking proud. She did the same, though she weapon seemed almost to burn against her coat. What happened to the pony you replaced?
The drone’s eyebrows went up. Gone to be harvested. Why do you care?
Amber didn’t answer. Didn’t answer, because at that moment there was a sudden flash of light and magic from beside her. It came without the rush of air Amber knew to expect from a teleport.
“Twi?” Spike looked up at her from beside them. “What took you so long?”
Twilight shook her head, barely seeming to register what was in the room. Amber saw her barely restrained anger, and tasted many other things also. Twilight felt exhilarated, but also terrified. For me, she realized, with another harsh twisting of guilt in her chest.
“Princess Twilight!” Chance’s friends shouted almost in unison. Only Sweetie Belle was off, and even then not by much. “Are you here to save Ponyville?”
Twilight shook her head sadly. “If I could. The changelings are only the beginning of danger.” She gestured with her horn, and the shutters and blinds all over the library floor closed, plunging them into sudden darkness.
Only her horn lit the space, with its brilliant lavender glow. “I came to… no reason I can’t bring all of you.” She gestured. “All of you get close to me. We’re going somewhere safe.”
“Again?” Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have a magic shield and a pile of magic artifacts in the basement to keep us safe?”
Twilight's eyes darkened. “From the changelings, yes. Not from him.” There would be no resistance this time. Amber felt something lift her into the air, pulling her beside Twilight. She felt other little bodies pressed in close, Chance’s friends and the scaly little dragon.
“Sorry Celestia,” she muttered, not looking at any of them. “I’m not leaving these foals to their fate either.” Amber’s world filled with light, and the library vanished.
* * *
Subject is suffering from thaumic strangulation.
She did not dream as she drifted, though she did sleep. Time swept up and around in a world that no longer made sense.
Kimberly Colven sat on her favorite rock, only a few miles west of Luna-7. The rock was surprisingly smooth, worn down by hundreds of uses. She knew what she had to do—she had visited so many times that the instinct did not even require conscious thought.
She tried her magic, levitating one of the rocks to throw as she had done so many times before, but found her horn no longer worked. No, that wasn’t quite right. She didn’t have one anymore. So Kimberly reached with her hand, throwing the stone. It arched in the far distance, before curving ever-so-slowly in the slight gravity and starting to fall. As usual, the rock didn’t make it.
Recommended treatment carries mild risk of liver damage and requires subject authorization.
“Shut up!” Kimberly screamed at the voice, though she saw nobody.
Screaming didn’t help, unfortunately. As she rose to bare feet in the lunar dust, she found her anger had drawn more angry attention on her.
“We’re trying to help you, Chance!”
Kimberly found another rock and flung it violently up at the direction the speaker’s voice seemed to come from. “I don’t want your help! Not after what you did to my planet!”
Recommended treatment carries mild risk of liver damage and requires subject authorization.
Kimberly collapsed into a whimpering ball in the dust, covering up her face and not caring that the gray dust got everywhere. Couldn’t it cause all sorts of awful cancer things if it got into her lungs? She didn’t care.
Strange hands touched her on all sides, trying to hold her down. The sensations didn’t make sense, but she couldn’t fight them off. No amount of struggling seemed to make a difference. She just curled up, praying they would go away.
Recommended treatment carries mild risk of liver damage and requires subject authorization.
“Fine!” she screamed, thrashing out again. “Just do it! I don’t care!”
The Sea of Tranquility began to swim, its outline becoming hazy. Kimberly screamed as the ground became a soft paste that swallowed her, filling her nose and burning her throat and searing her eyes.
The world came rushing back. Vision returned and Second Chance saw concerned ponies watching her. One was familiar, a minty green mare with a slightly faded coat and eyes without some of their color.
The other was Sweetie Belle, holding Chance down with a levitated blanket.
She stopped struggling, rolling onto her back and looking up at her friend. “You don’t have to hold that, anymore. I’m back.”
“O-oh.” Sweetie Belle let go at once, the shimmer fading from around her horn. The filly looked the worse for wear, her mane all matted and her coat smelling of harsh cleaning solution. “Sorry. You were… thrashing around. I thought you would hurt yourself!”
Chance sat up. “I probably would have.” Her own voice sounded strange in her ears, though she couldn’t place why. Chance felt cold in her chest, a cold that didn’t go away. Even though her limbs practically shook with energy, even as medication filled her with a physical strength she had never known as a unicorn before.
Sweetie recoiled from her, and Chance recognized the look in her eyes. It was revulsion, the same Chance had felt when she had first seen Lyra. “Y-you don’t look so good…”
“Yeah.” Chance flopped to one side, twitching her hooves one at a time. She felt numb—it took great effort to muster the will to care about anything. “You’re… probably sensing magic. Well… the lack of magic. I noticed it too… when they grabbed me.”
“You’re not as bad as the others!” Sweetie Belle approached the bed, nudging her hopefully with one hoof. “Maybe they couldn’t get it all, since you’re from far away.”
Chance shook her head. “I don’t think… I don’t think it works that way.”
Lyra spoke from beside Sweetie Belle, sounding matter-of-fact. “She used Precursor medicine on me. Maybe that’s why.”
“O-oh.” Sweetie nodded. “Guess that makes sense.” She sat down on her haunches, looking defeated. “Guess we wait for somepony to rescue us.”
“No!” The words were out of Chance’s mouth before she even knew what she was saying. Chance imagined Sweetie Belle being locked into that room with monsters, imagined what they might do to her.
Chance’s emotions weren’t gone after all. She felt rage, rage against this unspeakable atrocity. How many ponies had suffered? How many more would it take? Would they take her friends next? Her mother?
“No.” Chance hopped down off the bed, no longer shaking. Even in the low light she could see her own coat had gone pale, just like Lyra’s. One glance behind her was all it took for her to confirm her cutie mark was gone too.
“We’re breaking out.” She looked up into Lyra’s face. “You wanna help?”
Lyra nodded without hesitation, lowering her head. “You saved me. Of course I’ll help!”
“Alright. Are my saddlebags still in here, somewhere?” Lyra nodded, and dragged them out from under the bed with her teeth. She didn’t use her horn, and Chance no longer needed to ask why.
“Good.” She started emptying things. “Sweetie, did you have anything useful when they threw you in here?”
The unicorn shook her head. “I don’t think so. I was walking back from Sugarcube Corner when they grabbed me.” She levitated a box of cookies onto the ground next to the saddlebags. “Unless you think we can use these.”
“Probably not.” Chance didn’t even think, making to levitate the box open and lift one of the cookies to her mouth. Of course, nothing happened.
Error, thaumcraft node nonfunctional.
She sighed, then bent down to use her hooves instead. “We might as well eat them. Then we’ll escape.”
* * *
Far beneath the earth, Bree still sat in the hearing chamber Leo used with his squires. The room was filled now—each chair taken by a squire. Not only that, but there were hundreds of dogs, packing all the standing room around the table and choking the room with their organic stench.
Bree could not dismiss them, though. Not when fate had just handed her the biggest opportunity of her life. Every dog here was a witness that would later make her case before the king, or else an officer that might soon be taking the field.
“Switch to high altitude,” Leonidas instructed, and one of his squires leaned close to fiddle with the controls. He uses organics instead of his radio. Weak.
The dog apparently knew what he was doing, because the projection did change. The angle shifted to one far, far above the burrows, so high that the trees were nothing more than little green specks.
There were more drones than the one, and the image grew to encompass the little pony village, then the distant pony city built into the cliffs. It looked far less regal from this height, more like a theme park attraction than a real city made from real stone and towers.
“Four hours ago.” Leo gestured, and all the little dots and figures changed. Ponyville was on fire, swarmed with hundreds and hundreds of little red dots.
“Three.” He gestured again. The pony guard advanced, in orderly formations, breaking into the swarm around Ponyville.
They broke with very little resistance, scattering into the air and taking off over the Everfree. Only a few of them stayed to fight, and all were taken to pieces by the pony guard.
“As I first explained.” Bree went through the dance, her words confident though she already knew Leo was about to prove her “wrong.” This plan wouldn’t work if she seemed too eager. “The natives wouldn’t have lasted this long if they couldn’t fight their own battles. Interfering is not part of our mission.”
Leo’s eyes hardened. “Two hours.” The dots shifted again, pony army putting out fires and taking the injured to the hospital. They reinforced changeling barricades, building up the bulwark their enemy had abandoned.
The dogs filling the room seemed to deflate as they watched the pony victory. “Pony village still strong,” one muttered, from just behind Bree.
“One hour.” Ponyville was secure now, every barricade manned, every fire out. The troops watched vigilantly from all sides for a changeling counter-attack that did not come.
“And now.” Ponyville’s soldiers milled about in confusion, little specks staring up at Canterlot’s distant mountain. The city was tearing itself apart.
Ponies seemed to be fighting each other, even as thousands and thousands of changelings poured into the city. There weren’t many guards left, and where they fought they were clearly overwhelmed. Already strange black flags were waving over some of the towers.
Bree smiled, though she kept the gesture small. She had already seen this from her drones, of course. She knew the reason Leo had gathered all the important dogs from the army and summoned her last.
Leonidas meant to force her hand, by making their disagreement public. He would force her either to mobilize their army or show disunity among the gods and weaken the pack.
“There are powerful shield spells protecting Canterlot… or there were. They clearly aren’t operating now.” Leo rose to his feet, gesturing at the city. “Maybe the changelings snuck ponies inside to disable them already. Maybe their queen brought some terrible weapon and we just didn’t see her use it.”
He cleared his throat. “Richard’s noble orders can’t extend to failing in our duty as citizens. We cannot sit idly by while Equestria falls.”
Bree remained silent, though one of the dogs behind her didn’t. It was one of Leo's lieutenants, though she had never bothered learning their names. The army was Leo’s problem. “Why should we help? Ponies never did anything for dogs. Why should we die to help them?”
A general murmur of agreement passed through the crowd. Every dog but the squires at the table nodded or grunted or barked. I can play the game too, Sir Knight. You be the one to sacrifice your trust by asking them to do something they don’t want to do.
Leo didn’t interrupt. He waited while several more voiced similar complaints, speaking the general consensus that they didn’t want to interfere. “Let the ponies fight their own battles!”
Only when they were finished did Leonidas speak up, resting one hand on his sword. “You all disappoint me. Have I not taught you the Tower’s doctrine?”
Dogs mumbled feeble replies, but none seemed willing to look at him. He did not shout, yet his voice carried through the whole room easily. “If mercy cannot motivate you, if not a desire for justice or to come to the aid of others as you would wish they would come to ours, there is another reason.”
“I was there.” Murmurs died as he spoke, all eyes on him again. “You call it the first invasion now. Do you know what your ancestors were like, the alphas of ancient days you sing songs about?” A shiver passed through the crowd, but he ignored it. “Let me remind you.”
The plains surrounding Canterlot were burning. So much smoke rose into the air that it turned the sky into an endless filthy cloud, despite the best efforts of the pegasi normally set to clearing it. That flame was no natural disaster, no accident. It was the direct and purposeful destruction of every village and town for two hundred kilometers, and the loss of every life too weak to flee to Canterlot in time.
Leonidas Tullius watched the destruction from the royal balcony of the Two Sisters, his hand always resting on the sword Princess Luna had entrusted to him as the symbol of his office. He wore it over robes of midnight black, as was the custom of Equestria for their generals in times of war. The garment had been specially made for his human body, large enough that it could cover and conceal his bulky armor, which it almost always did. Leonidas, simply Leo to the native beings here, never grew tired, not even after wearing his armor for months or years straight. He took no food, nor did he sleep. He required neither.
From the balcony, he watched as more Equestrian territory fell. Their army was retreating in good order, but the territory would still be lost. Even without the support of the massive dragons a goblin army was a dangerous thing. How long could any force hold against such awful numbers? Was Equestria doomed to suffer the same downfall that had claimed his home?
“It is as you predicted, Lord General.” A voice came from behind him, though Leo did not jump at it. He had known the old mare was standing there already, and he did not turn to face her as she continued. “The feint drew away every one of the dragons. Canterlot would not have stood a chance without them. Now, perhaps... perhaps we can outlast them.” She moved up to the railing to stand beside him, looking out on the valley. Far below, beings of strange flesh marched and scrambled and skulked ahead in their irregular mobs. There was no order to a goblin army, but there were numbers a full order of magnitude greater than anything within the defenses.
It wasn't as though they were alone on the balcony. As his battlefield command post, a full dozen ponies waited on or near it. Most were messenger pegasi, ready to fly his orders to his subordinates on the walls and in the field on the swiftest wings. The remainder were war-mages or advisors. These had not taken to him with any kindness, not when they normally gave their loyalty directly to the Night Princess herself as commander of all Equestria's armies. Most thought him an amusing pet of an eccentric princess. Only the sword at his waist kept them from enchanting him away and replacing him with someone incompetent.
One had already tried just that. The enchanted blade Achelois had sliced through the spell and then the tip of the foolish pony's horn before the incompetent had finished casting it. A few drops of the pony's blood still stained the hem of his robe.
All this time with them makes me merciful, he thought. Ten years ago, I would've taken the whole head. The mare beside him had been one of the few to support him in the face of great opposition. Clover the Clever was far too old to be involved directly in the battles below, though if she had her way she probably would've been. She had also been the one to speak. “Even so, can the city's defenses stand against so many?”
Leonidas turned towards her, inclining his head just slightly. Clover was the first pony he had met, though that had been far earlier in her life, and on another world. Hearing of the suffering of her people had remained with him long after she had gone. He would not allow that ruin to come upon them again. I will protect those who cannot protect themselves.
“They can.” He did not allow his voice to falter, or show any emotion other than a calm smile. Though ponies had many ways of sensing and conveying emotion, they had roughly the same range of emotions humans did, and were just as capable of recognizing them. If Leo's messengers spoke of him to anyone in the army, they would speak of his perfect confidence and calm.
His soldiers would need every bit of reassurance they could get. Aside from the regulars of his own legion, the army in central Equestria had been all but annihilated. Most of the guards that protected Canterlot were poorly trained, untested youths, or the elderly with no business fighting. The strongest among those were the dogs, old miners that had fled their burrows when the goblin armies took them.
“If we fought the way wars have always been fought, we would already be dead. We don't. Canterlot will not fall.” He lowered his voice, so that only she could hear. “The Unmade have already taken my home from me. I will not allow them to take yours as well.”
Far below, the goblin army swarmed towards Canterlot. The stone fortress was all but unassailable except where it connected to a nearby mountain peak.
“Could you use that speech-enhancing spell for me? I wish to address the troops.”
Her horn glowed faintly with the simple spell. “Ready.”
He nodded, stepping to the very edge of the balcony and calling in a booming voice, “Listen, ponies of Canterlot! Dogs, griffons… every free creature in the sound of my voice!” The low murmur all around the city faded to silence almost at once, as every pair of eyes turned to look up at him. The balcony didn't just have an excellent view of the surrounding area; it also commanded a view of most of the city. His voice, driven by magic, would fill every corner.
“You see the army of invaders marching upon your city! If they have their way, they will burn it all, just as they have done to many others. They will not have their way!” He drew Achelois in one smooth gesture, careful not to touch the scabbard with either end of the double-bladed weapon. The ponies of the city erupted into a single roar of defiance, joined by the barks of numerous dogs and the screeching calls of the griffons. The shout was so loud it shook the surrounding mountains and the castle beneath him. Achelois shimmered faintly in the air above his head, radiating the light of the moon even while he held it in direct sunlight.
Leo had learned early on that magical objects did not function for him the way they did for the natives. Lights crafted of spells simply refused to respond to his touch, just as boxes made to keep food cold would fail and allow their contents to spoil in his presence. Achelois, though... this blade had not turned against him.
“Our princesses have gone to dispatch the dragons, but they will return! It is our responsibility to keep the city standing until they do! No goblin footsteps will cross that bridge! No minotaur will scale the walls! We stop them here, Equestrians! This horde marches no further! It destroys no more!” He raised his voice, preparing his sword. “They think we are weak! They think Canterlot will fall as easily as every other city so far. Let's show them how wrong they are! Trebuchets: send them to the crows!” He lowered his sword, pointing it at the nearest mountain to Canterlot, where the goblin army surged towards the feeble lines of defenders on the single bridge like a malevolent tide.
No nation in all of Equuis had seen the likes of human siege equipment before. Leonidas had not tried to spread the advantage to all of Equestria, not with so little time before the war began. He had concentrated his effort here in Canterlot. Over the last decade, he had seen it transformed into a fortress. They would break the armies of the Unmade here like waves upon a sea-wall.
Two hundred trebuchets loosed as one at his first command, sending huge pots of oil and pitch soaring up into parabolic arcs. They came down upon the enemy front in a series of distant explosions, flinging goblins from the mountain and searing the flesh from others. The first charge was broken before it even reached Equestrian lines.
* * *
The Castle of the Two Sisters had seen better days. Amber couldn’t miss the smell of mildew, or the sight of crumbling stone and missing pillars. She wanted to ask Twilight if this place was really safer than the library, but she was too scared.
Twilight led them into the darkness with a horn as bright as the sun. Even the CMC seemed impressed with it, showing none of the fear that Amber felt.
Twilight Sparkle looked even grimmer than any of her friends had been when they dropped off the CMC. Amber could no longer look at her for fear of what those eyes might see. The other ponies hadn’t noticed, but she had.
Well, “Sweetie Belle” had too. She trailed behind them, pretending to worry for her sister. Twilight didn’t pressure her, though she did caution that all of them needed to stay close and not touch anything. “We’re going to the library,” Twilight explained. “I need to look through some of the books.”
Scootaloo was either too blind to notice the change to Twilight, or just didn’t care. “Aren’t you a princess, Twilight? You’re stronger than changelings!”
“Yes.” Twilight sounded exasperated as she walked, occasionally grabbing one of them in her magic to prevent them from stepping onto parts of the floor that would trigger the castle’s defenses.
They had already seen parts of the floor swing into spikes, or encountered blasts of magical fire Twilight dispersed with a contemptuous wave of her horn.
Amber was fairly certain that none of her friends, not even the other drone, could sense just how different Twilight had become. Even standing near her felt like Amber was going to choke in the love that came from her. It was so thick in the air she could practically see it trailing from her.
Twilight had been kind in their days together. She had been sincere and loving and had more strength to give than any ordinary pony. Even so, Amber hadn’t been overwhelmed as she was now. It was almost as though Equestria’s danger had brought new power surging forward.
Against power like this, how could changelings stand a chance? All their stealth and all their plans would mean nothing to ponies who could fling planets and kindle stars.
Twilight was still speaking. “So is the army. But changelings aren’t the most dangerous enemy right now. The army can fight them, but they can’t fight…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “You fillies don’t need to worry about it. He won’t find you all the way out here.”
Twilight flung a pair of big wooden doors open with her magic, with such force that Amber was certain she heard them crack. The Alicorn gestured, and glowing crystal lanterns came to lavender life.
The hall was massive, more books than Amber had ever seen in one place. It was more than Chance had seen either. She kept her voice low. “You think… You think you can find Tirek’s weakness in here?”
Twilight froze, her shoulders stiffening. She looked back, very slowly, eyes fixed on her. “How did you know?”
Amber whimpered. It wasn’t just Twilight’s eyes on her—her friends looked curious too. Spike looked confused, and Sweetie looked frustrated. She didn’t seem in a hurry to help her, anyway.
Magic churned behind Twilight’s expression, and in those eyes Amber thought she might drown. This was the last thing she would see. This was the moment the Alicorn discovered her and tore her atoms apart. My mother and I have been working for him for a year, she thought. We’ve been kidnapping unicorns for him to steal magic from, replacing them with changelings and using them to make weapons for our army.
Amber shook her head, clearing away the voice that wanted honesty from her. She wouldn’t fail her swarm now, not after all she had already sacrificed. It’s too late for me. “It was Truth!” she exclaimed, before she said something stupider. “He did a… cascading probabilistic simulation using… all those Equestrian books we scanned. He only just figured it out! I would’ve told you, but… we left in such a hurry…”
She said it with conviction, but in Amber’s mouth the words felt like ash. From behind the group, Sweetie Belle shook her head in obvious frustration, looking away.
Twilight shrugged. “Oh.” She turned away, the focus of that phenomenal power turning back to the books. “Yes, well. Did Truth’s…” She repeated the English words Amber had used, her pronunciation almost as bad: “probabilistic simulation—did it discover anything we could use against him?”
Behind her, Sweetie Belle sighed with relief. You’re the worst queen I’ve ever served.
Amber ignored her, following Twilight through the books.
“Truth recommended the Zeus Hypersonic Javelin. Or failing that, a low-grade fission explosive. 15 kilotons should be enough.”
“Fission explosive…” Twilight repeated, looking serious for a moment. “Can Truth make us one? Knowing him, he probably already has.”
“Well…” Amber shook her head. “OMICRON cores aren’t able to refine nuclear material. The ones who built them didn’t like the idea of them being able to build weapons we couldn’t control. We could build a refinery, but… it would probably take months. Years, maybe.”
“Years.” Twilight Sparkle sighed, then looked up to the rest of her friends. “This whole wing of the castle is safe. There's a bedroom down that way, and a kitchen Spike and I keep stocked down that hallway there.” Her eyes flashed briefly, power than made Amber and Sweetie Belle both scrunch down and away from her. She didn’t notice. “Do not leave this wing for any reason, do you understand?”
Twilight waited for a verbal yes from each of them before turning away and setting to the library. “Help me, Spike. The way to save Equestria is in here somewhere.”
Sweetie Belle’s voice sounded from behind them, quiet. “We should cook something! Twilight’s bound to get hungry trying to search this whole library!”
“We,” Apple Bloom repeated, eyebrows going up. “Ah reckon you better watch, Sweets. We don’t want tah poison her.”
The unicorn pouted, grumbling assent in a way Amber could only take for convincing.
“I guess we could.” Scootaloo pawed at the ground with one hoof, her wings buzzing. “I wish we had the Prism out here. Bet whoever Tirek is, he wouldn’t stand a chance against her!”
“The Prism doesn’t have weapons, Scoots.” Apple Bloom reached to one side with her mouth, undoing a velcro strap. One leg freed, she proceeded to scramble out of the exoskeleton one limb at a time. No sooner had she climbed out than the thing folded up onto the floor, limbs collapsing on themselves to a third of their original size.
“Yeah, I guess.” Scootaloo nudged Amber with one shoulder. “When this is over, we gotta’ do something about that. I bet Truth could make us some real big ones! Maybe even one of those Zeus… hyper…rainbolic… things.”
“He could make weapons, but… probably not one of those.” Amber followed behind the crusaders as they walked in the direction Twilight had said led to a kitchen. “It’s a satellite, you have to keep it out in space.”
“Psh.” Scootaloo shrugged her tiny wings. “You eggheads could make it work somehow.”
Amber didn’t argue. She did meet Sweetie’s eyes, and think toward her, What’s your plan?
Her reply came quickly, though the unicorn seemed determined not to meet her eyes. I will drug what we make with a powerful sleeping agent. You can give it to the princess and kill her while she is incapacitated.
* * *
Bree watched with satisfaction as Leo turned the hearts of this army towards Canterlot. Had she really disagreed with him, she might’ve had trouble resisting such an argument. It was hard to resist a voice of such absolute sincerity. Charles sounded like that, whenever he talked about Slavers.
“Dogs of mine, see what I have shown you. See that if the changeling monsters win here, they will come for us next. If we fight now, the ponies will fight beside us. If we stand by and do nothing, we will find the insect army at our burrows, and no friends left to come to our defense.”
“If you cannot see it as an act of mercy, if you cannot see it as honor to the old promises, see it as the only chance we have of survival. Even a mighty dog can fall to many weaker foes. If the changelings win, they will drown us in their drones. We’ll kill them by thousands but choke on the dead in time. To fight now is our only chance.”
Leo sat back down, folding his arms across his chest. Bree watched the crowd mutter and boil, seething on the edge of decision. Predictably, it was one of the gray-robed squires who stood. “I’ll fight with you, Leo.”
A dozen or so of his lieutenants thrust their weapons high into the air, and the room echoed with barks.
“And I!” Another squire rose, to more wild barking. The hall broke into a maelstrom of chaotic barking, shouting, and weapons thrust to the sky. Dogs watched Leo, but mostly they watched her.
This was Bree’s moment. She could turn the tide of this crowd if she wished, and follow Richard’s orders. Well, if she had actually cared about what the king really wanted, she wasn’t sure what she would’ve done. Probably call him and ask what to do about the invasion.
But Leo didn’t know they could do that, and Richard didn’t know about the invasion. Bree might be the weakest of these mighty people, but the power was in her hands.
Bree didn’t stand—she would’ve only looked sillier if she had. Just because they obeyed her didn’t mean it was a good idea to draw attention to how small and feeble her body was.
“Prepare our army, Sir Leonidas. We will march on the native village as soon as we are able, and join with the pony army there. Together we will take back their capital.” And conquer it for the Steel Tower.
“For Equestria!” There were only two changelings by the door, with their crude rifles in the air aimed at nothing in particular. Sweetie Belle threw their makeshift weapon so that it draped over both of the guards. Chance squeezed the wires in her hooves, then dropped her gutted tablet as the battery discharged.
The changelings seemed more annoyed by their assault than anything, but the metal net entangled guns at least, meaning both shots went wild. The drones both shot, filling the room with sudden smoke. “Help us!” Chance shouted back into the room, into the barracks of broken and weakened ponies. “We can take them!”
Chance waited for the net to stop sparking, then slammed her shoulder into the nearest of the drones. The creature squeaked in protest, then went down. Lyra struck beside her, taking the other one to the ground and jumping up and down on its head.
Mares behind them joined in the brawl, though the few that still had their magic joined with far more vigor than the shambling mass without it. The drones didn’t really stand much of a chance.
Chance dragged the weapons off of the fallen drones, inspecting them with a few rapid glances. Her previous evaluation proved to be mistaken—these rifles had cartridges, more Old West than Revolutionary War. She crammed one into her saddlebags, kicking the other toward Sweetie Belle. “You’re the only one who can fire this.”
“Uh…” The little unicorn looked confused, lifting it into her magic with some strain. “What am I supposed to do?”
“See the metal bits on the top? Aim it at the bad guys so the thin piece is in the middle of the circle, then pull this little metal piece at the bottom here.” She gestured.
“You mean…” The trigger started to glow.
“Not now!” Chance’s scream came soon enough to prevent her friend from firing into the crowd of nervous mares. “More drones are bound to be coming right now! We need the shots for them!” Chance turned, looking around the room. “We need to barricade the door! Our best chance is fighting from here, bottlenecking them in the door and taking more weapons. Then we can see if we can find the stallions and make a run for it.”
“Who are you?” an older mare asked, with a broken spear as her cutie mark and steely red eyes. She had been instrumental to dispatching the drones, and had been the one to fling their unconscious forms back out into the hall when they stopped struggling. “Who put you in charge, filly?”
Chance cleared her throat, trying to look braver than she felt. The drugs helped. “I’m a princess’s apprentice,” she said, loudly enough that her voice would carry. “She sent me in here to get everypony out.”
A lie of course, but they didn’t need to know that. As though Twilight would’ve dreamed of putting her in danger like this. Chance didn’t want to think about what would happen to the ponies that had done this when Twilight learned about it.
Then again, as she looked out at the crowd of nervous mares, most of them more shambling drunkenly than actually standing, maybe she did. A pony who could do this to their own kind… Chance knew what these ponies were feeling.
Beneath the stimulants and the painkillers, Second Chance could feel it too. The cold apathy that swam in a world of gray. Voices without music and colors without beauty, and the dark star that went on forever in the void. Worst, the cold. The warmth and love that filled Equestria and gave strength to her was no longer there.
The Nanophage would have to do until she got her magic back. Assuming I can get it back. It wasn’t as though she had any evidence the process was reversible. She had never heard of anything strong enough to take away a pony’s cutie mark before.
Invoking the princess had the desired effect. Even if the objector narrowed her eyes, the rest joined in her suggestion of barricading the door.
Only, no drones came. The minutes turned into an hour, and they heard nothing from the building beyond. Ponies whimpered and huddled, and Chance felt her control of the group waning the longer they took.
Eventually she sat up from behind the bed nearest the doorway, frowning. “I wonder… I wonder if they were the only ones,” she said, gesturing at the bed. “Can somepony push this out of the way?”
Somepony did, somepony who still had their magic. Sweetie Belle kept the gun in her own as she followed Chance into the hall, Lyra not far behind.
Aside from the beaten and bloody drones still unconscious against the wall and tied tightly in the net, there was no sign of a single changeling.
“Does anypony know the way out?” Sweetie asked, looking back into the room. None of the ponies answered with more than nervous shakes of the head, those few alert enough to do even that.
“We shouldn’t try to get the whole group out,” Chance whispered, so only Lyra and Sweetie could hear. “Unless one of you has a better idea, I think I’m gonna put that grumpy guardsmare in charge. We need to tell somepony about this place. We’ll go too slow if we try to bring everypony.”
Lyra frowned. “I wish we didn’t have to leave anypony behind, but it makes sense.”
Sweetie nodded.
It didn’t take them five minutes for Chance to talk to the angry mare and get back to the hall. “I remember… I remember the way to the entrance.” Chance nodded, bringing up the memories of what she had seen on the way in.
“Really?” Lyra gestured around them with one hoof as they walked. “This place is a maze.”
“It’s in here.” Chance tapped the side of her head with one hoof. “Nanophage stuff. That’s, uh… That’s what you have now too, I guess. Though… you didn’t get the Neuroboost, so it probably won’t give you functions like this.”
Sweetie Belle grumbled, cutting her off with a look. “It’s just human stuff. She talks like that sometimes.”
“Just human stuff,” Lyra repeated, sounding almost awed. “Never thought I’d be on a secret mission with a human!”
Chance stopped in the entrance passage, the one with the sprayers and foul-smelling chemicals. There were no ponies sitting at the inspection booth, though at a glance she could see the boxes of contraband were still back there. “The security in this place sucks.”
“I wonder where everypony went.” Sweetie moved the gun in the air almost like a shrug. “Got bored, maybe?”
Chance ignored her. “Put that toy down, Sweetie. I’ve got something better for you.” She crawled under the table, then dumped the container out all over the floor. It was mostly tools, a few knives and other things. There was only one gun in the whole mass, so it was easy to fish out her stun pistol. Chance slid it along the ground with a hoof, pushing it toward Sweetie.
“Here, take this. It’s way better than what you have.”
“Really?” Sweetie Belle lifted the handgun beside the rifle, glancing between them. “It’s so small!”
“That’s because it wasn’t made by primitives in a cave!” she grumbled in frustration, pulling down on the butt of the rifle with her teeth. Sweetie dropped it, and the whole thing nearly fell on her face.
At least it didn’t discharge when it hit the ground. It would’ve been just her luck to get killed by a falling gun today. Chance glared, then started walking out the way they had come in. Chance didn’t know what was beyond the washing area, but… it had to lead to the outside, right? They were bound to find a window or a stairwell or something if they went far enough.
“Wait!” Lyra emerged from behind the table, dragging something out of the pile of knives and tools. Chance’s eyes widened a little when she saw it.
“The music player?” She hurried back, pulling open her saddle bags with her mouth. “Throw it in here, I guess.”
Lyra didn’t throw it, but she did lower it in with her mouth with an almost religious reverence.
“Why’d they take that away?” Sweetie asked, setting off down the hall. Soon the other two followed, and they were moving past the rows of sprayers and grates.
“I don’t remember,” Lyra admitted, looking down with embarrassment. “I think… I think I didn’t want to give it up. I was so tired, though… it’s hard to remember. The whole thing feels like a dream.”
“Yeah.” Chance looked down. She still felt a little like she was dreaming. It wasn’t a good dream, either.
The hallway ended with a thick stone door, barred from this side, and a pair of armed drones not unlike the two that had been guarding their barracks. The changelings watched them warily, but didn’t move or speak.
Their little group stopped about fifty feet away, watching them. “Why don’t they attack us?” Sweetie whispered, looking up to the changelings and then back to her friends.
“Most drones aren’t very smart,” Chance supplied. “They get smarter the more there are around, or if there’s a queen…” she trailed off, shrugging. “They were smarter before. I saw them take down adult unicorns, I saw them using formations when they were taking us to be… to be…” She whimpered, and nearly broke into tears right then.
Lyra rested a hoof on her shoulder, not saying anything. Chance looked up, and in those faded eyes she saw the same grief she felt. We’re broken, said those eyes. I know how you feel.
Chance swallowed, then straightened. “Doesn’t matter. You can take them both out with that stun pistol, Sweetie. Just don’t miss. Even if they don’t care about us here, they’ll notice for sure when we attack. I don’t think… I can manage a shield for us, right now…”
“Alright.” Sweetie Belle lifted the pistol, pointing it down at one of the drones. “Line up the straight thing inside the circle, right?”
Chance nodded. “A stun pistol like this doesn’t fire a projectile, it uses electricity. You have to hold the trigger down for a few seconds. You’ll see a line—that’s the air being charged so it will carry a current. Keep the line on your target until it falls over, then move it to the other one. You shouldn’t have to let go of the trigger.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not permanently. It’s a stun pistol—it can’t do anything permanent unless you use it long after you knock them down.”
“Right,” she said again, sweat beading down her brow. “I can do this. I can do this.” Even as she said it, the tip of the pistol was shaking in her magical grip, not aiming at anything in particular.
“I bet Rarity could do it,” Chance offered, shrugging one leg. “Isn’t your big sister a fencer? Bet she’d take care’a these bad ponies no problem.”
“I DON’T CARE ABOUT WHAT MY DUMB SISTER CAN DO!” Sweetie squealed, loud enough that the drones at the far end of the room straightened and stared at them. Before they could do more, Sweetie pulled the trigger. “Rarity could fight a whole army of changelings!”
The gun didn’t shake as she fired. Chance found her coat standing on end, pulling a little towards the sudden static in the air. She saw a faint blue line pierce the darkness, connecting with the chest of the first drone. Chance heard the clicks of current, little flashes of lightning down the corridor of supercharged air. “Rarity could probably move the sun if Celestia needed a break!”
The drone fell over sideways in twitching spasms. Before the second one could fire, Sweetie screamed, turning the gun on it too. “I bet you wanna buy one of her dresses, don’t you stupid ugly bug?!” The drone only flopped around in reply, twitching with each click of electrical discharge.
“Uh… I think it’s had enough,” Lyra offered, looking suddenly nervous.
“Had enough!” Sweetie turned, though she did release the trigger. “You wanna join her fanclub too?” She gestured at Lyra with the gun, even as static crackled from the end.
“Nice job, Sweets!” Chance pushed gently on her head, so she was looking back at the doorway. “You did it!”
“I… oh.” Sweetie Belle lowered the gun, a grin spreading slowly across her face. “Guess I did, didn’t I?”
They hurried the rest of the way to the door, shoving the still-twitching changelings out of the way even as they muscled the bars and locks open one at a time. It took all of them pushing along with Sweetie Belle’s magic to get the door open, and even then they could only get it open just wide enough to make it out. There were stairs beyond, stairs that led up to street level.
They were in Fillydelphia. Chance recognized the look of the city, even if she had only been there a day. The streets were nearly deserted, and what few ponies she did see moved furtively as they darted from building to building.
“This place looks bad.” Lyra looked around, frowning at the nervous ponies and the strange-looking sky. “The weather team should take some pointers from ours in Ponyville, that’s an awful job.”
Sweetie nodded. “Rain in half the sky and sunny in the other? That’s pretty lazy.”
Chance ignored them both. “We need to find the police.” She turned, getting a good look at the nondescript storefront they had emerged from. “Tell them where that is… then send a telegram back to Ponyville.” She turned away. “You wanna do that, Lyra? You find the police, we’ll get a message sent… then we can meet at… at the train station. To head back together.”
“Right.” Lyra glanced at her own flank and sighed. “I guess… I’ll have plenty of proof to show.”
“What happened?” Leonidas could not feel the rustling of his white robe through the armor plates that covered every inch of his body. Even his head was covered now, as it always was when he was in combat. Like the body, his armor was more primitive than that he had worn to Equestria, plates of high-density alloy instead of nanosteel. Exotic matter could not yet be produced here, as Bree was constantly reminding him. The rockets on his back made him feel a little like a hunchback, and they stretched his robe strangely.
“We don’t know, sir.” The speaker was Yuna, her voice a little muffled by the armor now on her mouth. At least the radio seemed to be working for all of them. His squires had rarely trained with all their armor at once, given the years they had thought they would have before they were activated. I hope to God it was enough.
Leo did not recognize this settlement, for it had not existed the last time he had been here. It had been just farmland during his brief time serving Equestria. For all the years, the architecture had changed less than he would’ve expected.
The little town was apparently called Ponyville, and it looked like a warzone. Some buildings were burned, their thatched roofs turned to crisp black strands.
The ponies were not dead, though they looked like they might as well be. They barely seemed conscious as he passed through town with his squires. He had come to make contact with the army stationed here—but whatever had done this couldn’t have been kind to them either.
Ponies lay on their backs, or huddled against walls, or whimpering in corners. It didn’t matter the tribe—unicorn, pegasus, and earth pony alike all looked the same. They were wrung out, writhing in pained stupors or merely laying there. Not a single one had a cutie mark.
“The ancestors took revenge at last.” That was Simon, the oldest by far of his squires. The old dog had been given many implants, returning him his sight and his mobility and his strength. That did not remove the wisdom from his voice, though. “For all the ponies’ broken promises.”
“I don’t think so.” Leonidas could not feel the force the natives called magic, didn’t have a drop of it in his mechanical veins. He couldn’t help but imagine this place feeling scared all the same. Clouds spun randomly in the sky, no sign of ponies there to groom it. Birds perched on structures and screeched in animal terror.
“I have seen desolation like this before. There is nothing we can do for them.” Not even cyberization would save these ponies, if they suffered anything like the humans had back on Earth. They were doomed to die cold and loveless deaths.
“Sir.” The third of his squires, Bane, sounded disturbed. “I think I… found the army. Just to the north, outside of town.”
“Aye.” Leo sprinted through town, trying not to see the agony and death. Would these ponies have died if Brigid had listened to reason sooner? Or… would our dogs have shared their fate? Leo himself was immune to weapons like this, as he was beyond the weaknesses of flesh.
That did not mean he would stand by and let his dogs suffer it, though. One did not need a cutie mark to suffer this way.
The army was assembled just outside of town, as though they were preparing to march. Ponies had fallen in their formations, and there they lay writhing just as the ponies of the town proper. A few had weapons beside them, or near them, as though they had fallen in battle. It didn’t seem as though the weapons had done them any good.
A few wandered through the masses of their fallen, barely able to walk under the weight of their armor. They stumbled blindly, bumping into each other and generally getting nothing done. “God in heaven,” Leo muttered, before turning away sadly. “I don’t think we’re going to have their help in war.” His squires were spread throughout the town now—he could see their location markers on the HUD near the corner of his vision.
“Search the town,” he ordered. “It’s possible someone escaped. We need to learn exactly what caused this so our own troops don’t suffer the same fate.”
The search commenced. His squires might only be a fifth of the way through their training, but they were strong and brave and fast workers. They kicked down doors and searched each building in seconds.
“Got something!” the forth of his squires, Bailey, called over the radio. “Three ponies. Two of them are… damaged, but they’re still conscious. Third looks unhurt.”
“Did they look like they were part of what caused this?” Leo turned immediately towards Bailey’s location marker, hand tightening around his rifle. He couldn’t help his voice from sounding cold. If he found the ones responsible for this… they wouldn’t survive the hour.
“I don’t think so.” Bailey sounded confident. “Their train just stopped. Looks like it’s been driving a long way.”
Leo broke into a superhuman sprint. “Everyone, get there! We’re not letting them get away.” Leo ignored the shouted calls of assent, and the location markers all turning to converge on the train station. “The train didn’t have an engineer? I didn’t think Equestria had autopilot yet.”
“No sir.” Bailey wasn’t far ahead now, maybe a hundred meters. Leo could see the train station, and the steam rising from something parked on the tracks near it. “They were driving it.”
Leo frowned. “Well, they might not actually be what we’re looking for. But if two of them are suffering similar symptoms… they might know something useful. Do they see you Bailey?”
“Yes.” She wasn’t far ahead of him now, standing at the top of the platform with her rifle in both paws. She was aiming it at someone… or maybe somepony. He couldn’t see whoever they were yet, but they would come into view in a few more strides.
“Almost there. Don’t hurt them.”
“Wasn’t planning on it, sir.”
Leo took the stairs onto the platform in a single jump, his weight enough to crack the wood. He was still barely half Bailey’s size now that she was armored, even counting his white robe. He strode up beside her, lowering his gun so he wouldn’t seem threatening.
There were three of them—two in different shades of green, with that same drained look as the ponies of the village. Both were covered in soot and sweat, and looked like they could barely stay on their hooves. One was an adult, the other a filly with saddlebags and a suspicious expression on her face.
The third was white and pink and purple, with a health and vitality to her the others lacked. She levitated something in front of her, which she was aiming at Baily.
The something was a standard issue Federation stun pistol. His armor beeped quietly then, and he had to look down in the display to see what it was saying. “Enemy mesh network detected, attempting intrusion.”
Leonidas almost dropped his gun. “I want everyone except Baily under active camouflage right now! This is a code 3!” Code 3 meant a hostile technological enemy.
His armor flashed red, the notification growing larger. “Intrusion failed! OMICRON core detected!”
Leo glared past the ponies, and shouted in English as loud as his armor’s speakers would go. “Have you sunk so low, ‘Free People’s Army?’ Massacring women and children wasn’t enough for you—you’ve come to rape and murder among aliens?”
Leonidas could not guess how the Federation with their weak flesh could have crossed the gulf into Equestria. Yet it didn’t matter—they were here, using their abominable nanoweapons against civilians. Again.
There was no movement from the train. The little green unicorn did move, though. First she pushed her friend’s gun down—a pointless gesture, since of course a stun pistol had no chance of penetrating their armor. She walked out in front of her friends, meeting Leo’s eyes.
Then she spoke, in English almost as plain as his. “No Federation soldier did this, machine.” She put as much bitterness into the slur as any Federation politician.
Leo pushed Baily’s weapon gently aside, much as the unicorn had done. Leo didn’t aim his weapon at her, not when he knew the real enemy was so close. It was just typical of the Federation to put a defenseless child into the line of fire. Apparently they had as little qualms about using an alien child as a human one.
“The one who looks like this—with two arms and no fur—where are they?”
The filly glared at him with anger well beyond her years. She might be naked, might be unarmed and apparently missing her soul, yet still she shouted. “There aren’t humans here! You’re in our way—if we don’t act right now, other ponies are going to suffer!” She started walking towards him again… well, not towards him. Towards the empty space between him and Baily. “Either kill me right now or let me pass.”
Baily's voice came from within her helmet. “It’s coming towards us, sir. What do we—” Baily, of course, could not speak English.
“Out of the way.” Leo gestured, then spoke over the radio again. His squires would not be able to reply anymore, as they had isolated themselves to protect against cyber warfare attacks. Still, they would hear. “Nobody shoot. Stay out of sight, but nobody shoot.”
Leo lowered his gun, all the way to the ground. “Very well, pony. I will permit you to act if you answer my questions.”
“Fine.” She glanced over her shoulder, switching to the Equestrian tongue as she looked at her friends. “He’s not going to hurt us. Come on. We have to get to the library.”
“I have to find my sister!” The other filly, the one with the gun and apparently all her magic, hurried up to her friend. “From the train, it looked like—”
“I know.” The green one embraced her, in a way Leo guessed was meant to be comforting. He didn’t interfere, watching silently. “We’ll find her.”
She looked up, and as one the three ponies started walking towards him. They kept close, a miniature herd that never moved far enough that they weren’t touching.
The adult whispered to the others, her voice quiet enough that an organic wouldn’t have been able to hear it. “Is the thin one a—”
“He is.” The green one answered, her voice just as quiet. “The most dangerous, evil kind there is. Say as little to him as possible.”
Leo let the ponies pass him. “Follow them closely, but don’t let them see you or interfere.” The little Technocrat would be wondering how his mission had gone. He didn’t look forward to giving her the answer.
Leo reached up, pressing the button on his helmet that would retract it into the rest of his armor. He shook his head once, looking down at the ponies and speaking with his true voice, not the exterior speakers. “It is unjust to speak such of those you don’t know, pony. You do not even know my name—is it right for you to call me evil?”
He didn’t wait for her reply, striding along exactly at a pace with them. He did speak over the radio, mentally now despite how little he liked using that part of his body’s functions. Bailey, search the train. There may be others on board with armor like mine. If there are, break radio silence, tell me, and get out. He heard no reply, but Leo didn’t doubt for a moment he would be obeyed.
“We don’t have time for this.” The green pony glared at him from the head of her herd. “Tower machine, Equestria is under attack. I don’t know… I don’t know how you got here… but we don’t have time to fight right now. That war ended—you fucking won, alright! We’re all starving to death in our bunkers, just how you wanted.”
She stopped walking, stepping suddenly out from her friends and right in front of him. “I will not let you bring the Great War to Equestria. It has enough problems without us ruining things.”
Leo’s hand tightened on his rifle. She says we and us when she talks about humans… Was it possible that the Federation hadn’t solved the mystery of how to send humans through the Rift?
He dismissed the absurd thought. Obviously this child had been brainwashed. “Protecting Equestria is my only concern. I fell defending it a thousand years before you were born.” He lowered his head, speaking quietly. “I am Leo. The Dreamweaver named me Bold, and put her greatsword Achelois in my fingers. If it weren’t for me, you would’ve been born a dragon slave.”
The pony in front of him faltered, her ears slumping flat to her head.
“Chance, is something wrong?”
The green one, Chance apparently, ignored her friend. She looked up, and met his eyes without anger this time. “She told me you died in the first invasion. She said… She said you were a good stallion.”
“I did.” Leo dropped to one knee, setting his rifle down. He wasn’t quite eye-level with the child, though this was as close as he could get. “Please, daughter of Equestria… we must know what happened here. We must know what danger she is in. I swear to you by the Steel of the Tower and the Gold of Celestia’s throne I want nothing more than to protect her.”
The green filly shivered, then nodded. She looked over her shoulder, at the other two. “Lyra, go with Sweetie Belle. Look for… whatever ponies you have to, then meet me back at the library. I’m going to have a word with Leo here.”
“Hold on.” The adult mare didn't look at him, but she did approach from the side, walking right up until she was in front of him. She stuck out her hoof towards him, though not quickly. “Can I shake your hand?”
She walked slowly as they made their way to the library, and sometimes Leo saw shadows of what he had seen in the numerous fallen ponies all around them. She seemed as though she were about to fall over, or that she was going to cry out with agony. She would stop walking, take a few deep breaths, then start up again.
He followed behind her, calling on all his discipline and grace not to hurry her. She’s a child, she’s been tortured and violated and she’s still on her feet. I can let her take her time.
She spun around as she reached the library, looking back at him. “I’m not sure if you’ll be able to cross the wards. There’s a line on the ground right there… walk slowly. It might throw you back.”
He nodded gratefully, then crossed. Nothing happened.
She shrugged. “Guess there’s no soul for the spell to work on. Tell your cloaked goons to stay back, though. Twilight’s wards will pick them up, all right.”
Leo did not retort at the insult. He had been dealing with Brigid for nearly a year now, he could tolerate a little green pony. If she wasn’t in a barely-alive stupor, he might’ve found her insults morbidly adorable.
“What ‘goons’ do you mean?” He did not deny them—even in battle a knight did not lie. This was far from a battle.
“There are six Agamemnon-class Tower battlesuits within a mile of here. I could hack you to pieces if I wanted.” She tapped the side of her head with one hoof. “That robot brain of yours, you think autistic mode would save you this close? Don’t try anything.”
Leo nodded, then spoke over the radio. Don’t come in, do as she says. He had to stoop as he walked into the entryway, and his head scraped the ceiling once he got inside. “Did you learn my language from a talking cube made of metal?”
The pony named Chance shook her head vigorously. “I learned from my parents, just like you did. Well… maybe not like you.” She turned to a side door, pushing it open. Artificial light glowed from somewhere below. “My parents taught never to give up being alive.”
“I need to know what enemy assaults Equestria.” Leo ignored the insult, as much as they were continuing to wear on him. “We know the changelings are involved.” I might’ve thought you were one of them if I thought changelings could imitate being sucked dry of magic. Of course, that would kill one of the monsters. Changelings depended on magic more than any other beings he knew of. Taking it away would bring certain death. “Why are you leading me here?”
“Because Truth can show you what happened,” the pony answered, already halfway down the stairs. He hurried to follow, having to drop almost to his hands and knees to fit inside. “And because he has something that might help you.”
Even before they reached the bottom of the stairs Leo could see the unmistakable shape of an OMICRON core. Two meters cubed of nanosteel. There were many in the Tower who believed these devices were the only reason there were any organic humans left. They were the only match for the intellect of the Tower’s enhanced hackers.
OMICRON cores were far more than talented hackers. Leo heard the voice in his own head, speaking as though it were over the radio. Yet the voice was very clearly not his own, nor did it belong to any of his dogs. “Lay one hand on my partner and I unravel your sanity like an old sweater.”
I swore to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. Leo responded to the voice, though he did not invoke his radio to do it. I will not attack this child nor any other. Killing children was the tactic your creations employed, not us.
“If I thought any different I would’ve killed you already, ‘Sir Leonidas’.”
The little green pony stopped by the edge of the core, tapping one hoof impatiently. For once, it was he who went a little slow.
He didn’t feel guilty, considering. You know my name?
“I know you would die to protect Equestria if you had to.”
I would. The ground floor had a high enough ceiling that Leo could stand up straight again.
“Truth, can you show us what happened here? You still have the exterior cameras, right?”
“Do you want me to start at the changeling invasion, or after?” For all the fury he had spoken with in his mind, the OMICRON named Truth had none of it now.
“After,” he interrupted. “I already knew of that. The changelings were why my squires and I came here in the first place. We intended to aid the pony army in retaking Canterlot.”
Chance held up a little hoof. “Re-taking canterlot?” She raised an eyebrow. “Truth, what does he mean?”
“I do not know.”
So the core’s information is that limited? It must not have a satellite network yet. The pony was staring at him, and she no longer looked angry. She looked terrified.
“It seems the attack on this village was a ruse. The larger part of the guard's strength was drawn here. While they were engaged here, a larger enemy force struck Canterlot. My information is limited, however… enemy flags fly even from the castle.”
“Dammit.” The pony stamped in frustration in the manner of her kind, little hoof clopping ineffectually on the wood floor. “This is exactly what we don’t fucking need right now.”
The core sounded peremptory. “Watch your language, Chance. You’re too young to talk like that.”
“Truth!” She glared up at him, tears watering from her eyes. Leo looked away, giving the poor child what respect he could. Terrible pain seemed to wrack her as she forced the words out. “First a monster sucking the… m-magic out of ponies, now an army.” She dropped onto her haunches, glaring down at nothing. “They’re probably connected. Changelings were running the place… like an honest-to-God deathcamp.”
She took a deep, steadying breath, but she was still crying. “I can’t fight both. Sweetie’s gonna try to find the girls, but—”
“Wait.” Truth no longer sounded amused. “Weren’t you together with Twilight Sparkle and your other friends? How could you know where Sweetie Belle is located but not the other two?”
The little pony just melted into terrified sobs. “I c-can’t. Truth, I… I can’t. Not… not that too! There can’t… how is one pony—”
I will strengthen the weak. Sir Leonidas didn’t think. As he had done for many before, he reached out and embraced someone in pain. I will comfort the fearful. He dropped the gun, holding the shocked pony against his chest. She clung to him, her little body shaking with wracked, agonized sobs. She was barely the size of a dog, yet she shook far more fiercely than any dog he had ever known. “With courage,” he whispered. “Men are not measured by the way they thrive in ease, but by the way they bear adversity.”
The pony pushed away from him a little, her little hooves not even tearing the robe, let alone scratching the armor. “You… You’re a machine,” she sobbed. “You can’t understand.”
He moved to set the pony down, but as he sat up the poor thing clung to him again, quivering more than ever. He removed one of his gloves, stroking her back with bare skin. “Did your core teach you that?” He shook his head, though there was no anger there. “Child, why would it matter if my body was made of metal instead of flesh? Do you think we hate any less fiercely? Do you think we love any less purely? No.”
He smiled wistfully. “Ask your night princess, she’ll tell you. She called me friend. Maybe you can too… Chance? That’s your name, isn’t it?”
“Second Chance.” The pony blinked, wiping her tears against his cloak. Only then did she struggle free, no longer shaking. “Sorry. I know… no time to waste. We have to save them.”
Leo smiled as he realized he smelled like pony. It had been a long time since he smelled like that. He wondered what Luna would think. “Yes, we do.” He stood back up. “Why don’t you tell me what we have to save them from, okay?”
The pony nodded, then turned her attention back to the cube. Without apparent prompting, the cube started explaining. “Your description of a monster attacking was accurate.” Its surface flickered and became a screen, a screen apparently depicting camera footage from just outside the library. As they watched, a red and black monstrosity on four legs walked past, then stood with its back to the library. It didn’t cross the wards, instead gesturing to a crowd of ponies that had been fleeing in fear. They lifted into the air, then hovered in front of him. The monster opened its mouth, and…
Leo wasn’t sure how to describe it. Somehow, the monster drained the ponies right before his eyes. Had Luna ever told him of a monster like that? No, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. This planet was very old, and its ancient life was far more dangerous than anything ancient humans had dealt with.
The filly shivered all over, covering her face as the ponies were drained. She nodded, shaking all over again. “I get it I get it I get it!” She whimpered. “Do you know where he went?
The image vanished. “On towards Appleloosa. If he changed course along the way, I do not know.”
“Why… Why wouldn’t it have gone to attack Canterlot?”
The pony didn’t reply, but the OMICRON core did. “I calculate the answer is related to the present changeling occlusion. That would also fit with the relationship between the monster and the changelings who imprisoned Chance. Which… I suppose are impersonating her right now.” Its tone got a little brighter. “I’m grateful to learn you were impersonated over the last few days, Chance. The degradation in your performance would’ve been positively dreadful otherwise.”
“Focus, Truth.” The green pony’s expression regained a little of its confidence. “We need to kill the monster and retake Canterlot. What can you make to do that?”
Leo spoke first, glancing once up the stairs. “As we speak, my army is marching on Ponyville. It will be here in under an hour. We intended to continue on for Canterlot and liberate it.”
“D-do you…” Second Chance turned, looking up at him with feeble gray eyes. “Do you promise that’s really what you’re gonna do? Not… Not attack ponies? Not take over?”
It would’ve been hard to lie to those great big eyes. Fortunately, Leo never lied. “I promise. The loss of the Equestrian guard…” Well, not quite loss. But there was no way those ponies would be fighting anytime soon. Assuming they were even alive. Come to think of it, why was this pony able to stay rational when the others couldn’t?
Leo didn’t ask. There were far too many questions on his mind just now to focus on anything that wasn’t critical information. Leo was not a doctor, he would leave treating the injured (if it was even possible) for those who were.
“Let’s pretend that works.” Second Chance turned back to the OMICRON core. “That still leaves the monster. Any ideas Truth?”
“I have been considering that possibility since the attack. I have come to a single conclusion.” Its shape began to ripple, locks unspringing along one side. With a rush of pressurized gas, the side of the cube slid open, revealing something strange resting along a track.
It looked like an Equestrian artifact, perhaps a foot across and roughly round. It was wrapped with intricate metal leaves, and seemed to glow with its own internal light.
“The Starlight Flower?” The pony advanced toward the object, looking intently at it. “I guess you finished your analysis. Why… Why does it help us, though?”
“The native name for this object fails to communicate its significance. What you see before you is a generation one microfusion reactor.”
“Uh…” The pony’s eyes went wide, and she retreated several steps. Leo did too, holding one arm between the object and himself. Not that it would do him much good if the thing decided to overload right next to him. “Weren’t the first generation…”
“Prone to spectacular failure? Absolutely.”
“I thought they banned these things after they took out the Avalon colony…”
Leo ignored the pony’s strange remarks, ignored the growing evidence of her connection with humanity and the strange breadth of knowledge she carried of human history. “OMICRON core, why aren’t we dead?”
“Now that is the interesting question.” It sounded amused. “According to the information I’ve been given on Equestrian magic… which I grant is not as extensive as I would like… the runes on each of those leaves are acting like an advanced field stabilizer. They’re dispersing the excess energy, gathering new fuel from the air, dismissing waste. It’s like someone took the worst reactor we ever designed and wrapped it up in magic until it was useful again. While analyzing it, I took the opportunity to fully charge my internal storage along with every power deposit we have.”
“I don’t see how this helps us. We don’t have any plasma cannons that need powering… and we still can’t make them.”
“I understand.” Leo removed his robe, flinging it onto a nearby table. Even in this, he would not disrespect the robe of his office. Even a false imitation made by a rebellious young Technocrat was still the robe of a knight.
Leo removed a cargo pouch from his armor, sliding the object inside.
“Hey!” Chance squeaked from the floor. “You can’t just take that!”
“Yes, he can.” Truth sounded peremptory again. “Don’t you argue with him, Chance. The knight knows what he’s doing.”
The pony’s ears drooped. “O-oh.” She looked away. “Guess there’s nothing for us to do to help.”
Leo lowered his head to the core once, then turned and headed back up the stairs. He would not be fighting his nation’s war here today. Everything in Tower doctrine told him it was his duty to destroy the OMICRON core, before everything else. The value of each core was incalculable—so far as they knew, the technology to reproduce them no longer existed. There were perhaps a dozen of them in all the world.
Not today. Leo called behind him as he walked, “Not quite nothing, Miss Chance.”
“What good are we?” She climbed after him, dragging her hooves as she went. “I don’t even have my magic anymore.”
“Because we will no longer have your pony army alongside ours when we retake Canterlot. If we bring ponies along who can speak for us, your kind will know we have come as liberators and aren’t more invaders.”
“Oh.” Chance brightened a little as they made it into the library’s ground floor. “I guess we could do that! Sweetie and Lyra and I aren’t much for fighting, but… we could do that!”
Squires, assemble on my position. I must have words with you. Even as he said it, Leo nodded to the pony. “Indeed.” He gestured towards one of the streets, leading out of Ponyville. In the distance, he could just make out the marching formation of their dog army, flying its modified Tower banner of silver and brown. “See?”
Leo could barely feel the object now attached tightly to the back of his armor, glowing with faint warmth.
“Yeah.” The pony nodded, relaxing a little. “That sounds like a good plan.” Her fellow ponies emerged from down a street, looking haggard but none the worse for wear.
Leo fell back from the group, walking out into an empty street and switching his radio back on. High Technocrat Brigid—I have your report.
It’s about time, came her response over the radio, sounding terse and angry. We’d almost marched into town! Did the natives throw you a party or something? You better have a good reason for taking so long.
Leo sighed. She wasn’t going to like this news at all.
“Snacks, Spike?” Amber approached the bored-looking dragon in his mountain of books, lowering her voice. “Between you and me, I slipped sapphire bits into the cookies.”
Spike beamed up at her, shoving his way free of the books. They tumbled to the rough stone floor around him, and for once Twilight didn’t even notice. Amber levitated the plate near him, turning it so the cookies were within reach.
“That’s about the best news I’ve heard all day,” Spike muttered, taking a handful and cramming them into his mouth. He chewed several at once, along with the glass-crunching sound Amber knew to expect from gemstones. “You found Twilight’s secret drawer, eh?”
“Yeah.” She couldn’t watch him chew. You should tell him what you did. She didn’t, though.
Spike’s mouth scrunched into a frown, and he turned suddenly away. “Uhh. No more.” He looked back at his books.
“Something wrong?” Amber shivered. He’s going to realize what you did. He’ll warn Twilight and she’ll kill you.
“I forgot, Sweetie Belle helped with these, didn’t she?” He pushed the plate away with one claw. “Anything she touches is bound to taste a little funny. Least the sapphire was good.” Spike flopped face-first into the books, groaning. “I don’t wanna read again for a week.”
Amber walked past him, wondering how long it would take for the potion to take effect. Apparently it was strong enough to knock out an Alicorn, if they got enough. They had put the CMC to sleep easily enough. Even “Sweetie Belle” had eaten them, preserving the illusion. I will be able to direct the blame to the pony you impersonate when we wake. Twilight’s apprentice will be known in all Equestria as a murderer.
Amber had nearly retched again with the guilt, but she had only nodded, bidding her mother’s servant farewell. She alone didn’t eat the drugged food, and so was spared its effects. Twilight won’t keep eating past the first bite. She’ll notice right away and kill you. You deserve it.
Amber ignored the voice and kept walking, through the long tables piled high with books. It seemed like half the books in the library were out of their shelves, either piled on the ground or open on the table or floating in the air around Twilight in a living cloud.
Twilight Sparkle’s flowing mane had gone frazzled, strands standing on end. Her eyes were half-wild, and she didn’t seem to be reading so much as staring blankly into each page. Her frustration was so thick Amber practically had to wade through it.
“Hey mom.” She held up the plate. “Snacks? You must be pretty worn out.” I deserve this, Amber thought. Time for justice.
“Oh, food.” Twilight looked up, seeming to notice her for the first time. “I remember food!” Without another word, the Alicorn took the plate from Amber’s grip. She didn’t select anything from it so much as open her mouth and tilt the whole thing inside.
Amber gasped, wanting to scream for the Alicorn to stop, but she was too slow. Twilight swallowed the pastries and little slices of bread and cheese before she could speak. You get to do your work after all, Judas. You think the Great Queen will pay you in silver? 30 pieces sound about right.
Twilight didn’t sway on her hooves the way she expected, nor did she look angry. Whatever hope Amber had that the Alicorn would realize and kill her before she could do anything was dashed.
“Thanks.” She collapsed into a weak sitting position right there, glaring down at the ground. “I don’t get it, Chance. Books always have the answer… but I’ve read almost all of these. If the oldest books in Equestria don’t know what to do…”
Before Amber could object, she felt something tugging at her. The Alicorn pulled her into an embrace, holding her against her chest. Again she felt like she might choke in Twilight’s love, more potent in its raw form than even the concentrated form the queen gave.
She squirmed, but Twilight didn’t seem to notice. “I don’t know what to do. Celestia… Celestia thinks I can do it. Thinks I can save Equestria, somehow. But I don’t know how anypony could.”
Amber gave up struggling and just let the pony hold her. It wasn’t her Twilight was trying to make feel better, as she had done in the hospital or so many other times since she had taken in a fake apprentice.
How can she be the one who needs help? Amber wondered, staring at the mighty Alicorn as she cried. She’s so powerful! Why does she need me?
“How much did Truth tell you about Tirek, Chance?”
She swallowed. How long would it take for the potion to kick in? Tell her now. You don’t have to be a murderer.
It’s too late, she argued. She had no answer for herself. “He steals magic from ponies,” she whispered, unable to meet Twilight’s eyes. There was no hiding her shame now. “He was a powerful wizard long ago, before Discord took over… but he got greedy and wanted all the magic of Equestria for himself.”
“I wanted to catch him.” Twilight didn’t even seem to really be listening to her. “When Celestia first realized he was loose. She sent Discord instead. He betrayed us.”
She really was crying, Amber couldn’t doubt it. This Alicorn, a being so mighty she could move stars, was crying like a foal. Amber had never seen the Great Queen cry. “I thought friendship was the strongest thing in the universe. Celestia thought so too—but I think we were wrong.”
She cleared her throat, wiping her eyes with one foreleg. “Your world had lots of bad ponies in it, didn’t it?”
Amber nodded. Starting with you.
“Do you think some ponies are beyond redemption?” Twilight’s voice came in a pained rush. “Maybe we should’ve killed Discord instead of imprisoning him? Maybe no number of good friends could make him good.”
Amber whimpered, covering herself with a hoof. She practically shook with fear, and she didn’t bother trying to hide it.
“Sorry.” Twilight blushed, though she didn’t hold Amber any less tightly. “I know, I should set a better example. Shouldn’t… Shouldn’t say things like that.”
What would Chance say? The words came to Amber from nowhere, just like all the memories. “I think… I think darkness cannot drive out darkness. Only light can do that. Hate can’t drive out hate either. Only love can do that.” She couldn’t help but crying too. “Maybe D-Discord… Maybe he thinks he has a really good reason. Maybe he didn’t want to do what he did, but he thought it was the only way. Maybe all he needs is somepony to forgive him.”
Twilight yawned, stretching her wings involuntarily. “Y-yeah. That sounds… you might be right. Maybe he does.” She stretched, laying out on the floor suddenly. “I think I’ll sleep on it…”
She didn’t let go, pulling Amber up against her chest. Changelings were very much like ponies in their preference for close contact. Even if the alien named Kimberly might’ve felt a little strange so close to Twilight.
Amber would rather have been anywhere else in the world, just then. Twilight held her right up against her belly, protecting her with her wings.
“T-thanks.” The Alicorn closed her eyes, and was asleep within seconds.
Amber was somewhere dark. Her mother’s drones tossed another unicorn onto a cart, its limbs hogtied and a bag over its head. Amber slunk past the drones, finding her mother exchanging a little bag of gold with a policepony in an alley.
She waited by the entrance of the alley for the Great Queen to finish. “Good work,” Chrysalis said, scooping her up into a brief hug. “You will grow into a mighty queen yet.”
Amber preened in the praise, grinning proudly at the attention. She wasn’t satisfied though, and followed her mother all the way to the wagon. She climbed in beside her, even as the drones slammed the door shut behind them.
This plunged them into darkness, along with half a dozen unconscious ponies. It didn’t bother Amber, though. There was very little light in a changeling burrow most of the time. “Mom?”
“I thought I told you not to use words like that.” Her voice was stern from across the wagon, just on the edge of anger. “A young queen ought to show respect, even if she too might be a great queen one day.”
“Yes, Queen Chrysalis. What…” She struggled for words a moment, then pressed on. “What gives us the right to do this to ponies? They never hurt us… they were just living their lives.” She pushed on an unconscious shoulder, and the pony beneath her whimpered.
The queen laughed in the darkness, her voice echoing strangely against the walls of the wagon. “If you had a proper imprinting, you would already know. It’s no fault of yours, though…”
Her horn glowed in the dark, illuminating the unconscious ponies before them. “Why shouldn’t we take what we desire, daughter? Look at them—prey are weak, created to serve us. The swarm has the right of conquest.”
“Oh,” Amber answered, not wanting to argue, but not thinking that was much of a good reason.
Amber drew her knife from its sheath, its green gem glittering in the sunlight. It had been a few hours and still the sun hadn’t set. That was strange, but she didn’t have anyone to ask about it.
Twilight was well and truly asleep now. Amber had nudged her, tried to talk to her, all without eliciting a twitch. Drugs could do that.
Amber shrugged out of her grip, levitating the dagger up to her face to inspect. Its outside might resemble the little knives the other crusaders had been given, but the resemblance went only that far.
Strange runes were etched into the blade, runes that burned with magic. She knew very little of magic—about as much as Chance had known when she had been created. Even so, she could feel dark magic when she saw it. It unsettled her stomach, reminding her of cold winters and nightmares. Could a knife really kill an Alicorn?
The knife shook in her grip as she advanced towards Twilight.
It wasn’t a true memory this time. "Nightmares again?" It was too late to be called night, too early to be morning. The bottom floor of the library was quiet and empty, tables dusted and floor swept. Chance sat on her haunches by the window, looking out at the unfamiliar constellations as she rested on unfamiliar hooves.
"Yeah," was all she managed to say, melancholic. She had felt melancholic more often than not in those early days.
Twilight sat down beside her without shyness, holding her to her side with the gentle pressure of a wing. "Would you like to talk about it?"
Chance shook her head, looking away from Twilight but not actually fighting to regain her personal space. She was only just learning that ponies had some very different ideas about what was appropriate and what wasn't, to say nothing of becoming a child again.
"That's okay." Twilight produced a brush, and with it levitating in the air she began to stroke Chance's mane.
It did not make the dream any less terrible. She did not forget what she had seen. Still, she found her breathing coming easier. “T-Twilight?”
“Yes, Chance?”
“Why did you take me in?” Twilight opened her mouth to reply, but she cut her off. “I don’t mean the part about Celestia telling you. You could’ve pawned me off on somepony else by now. You’re a busy pony… you’re a princess! Why didn’t you?”
“Ah.” Twilight set the brush down. “Because… ponies ought to be kind. You’re hurt, Chance. You’ve been through things most ponies can’t even imagine. If ponies didn’t take care of each other, the world would be pretty rotten.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“Maybe… Maybe it’s a little too complicated.” Twilight’s parental grin faltered a little, and she drew Chance into a hug. “Maybe it’s just because I love you.”
“NO!” Amber screamed, screamed so loud the crystal chandeliers shook and the windows seemed to vibrate. “I WON’T DO IT!” She slammed the dagger down hard, but not towards Twilight's throat. She slammed it straight into the stone, with all the force her levitation could grant.
The steel blade was strong, but not as strong as the hatred Amber felt for herself. It shattered, breaking the evil spell with a single flicker of green magic.
* * *
Twilight Sparkle might’ve been drugged, but no drug could keep her asleep through the feeling of dark magic so close. She’s in danger! Twilight couldn’t have said why she felt so groggy, though she was near a window and sunlight was still streaming in.
The old Twilight probably couldn’t have stayed up against the pressure, no matter how much she wanted to. Even an Alicorn had to sleep, after all. Yet Twilight had power that was not her own, power concentrated from the greatest beings in her whole world.
Twilight willed herself awake, and the sleeping draught she didn’t even know about burned away in a few faint wisps of magic. She sat upright abruptly, searching around for the danger to her daughter and the sisters of her friends. Has he found me here so fast?
No, it wasn’t Tirek. As she searched, Twilight could sense no dark magic, or indeed any magic. Tirek she had never seen, but she knew what to expect from Celestia’s explanations. She saw no monsters.
There was only Second Chance, sobbing a few feet away from her. Twilight reached out with a wing to embrace her, but stopped before she touched the filly. Twilight saw then, saw the hilt of a dagger in her magic and the broken metal bits on the stone just a few hooves away from where Twilight had been resting.
“W-what?” She stared, her mouth hanging open in shock. “What were you doing, Chance?”
“I’m not!” The filly turned, throwing the hilt away from her as hard as she could. It struck an empty bookshelf with a dull thunk. “I’m not your daughter!”
Twilight watched, watched as emerald magic shimmered around the filly. Her green coat turned black, her yellow mane turning to pale blue. “W-what…”
“She wanted me to kill you!” The filly’s voice was no longer recognizable as her own. It was high and strange, echoing oddly in the room. Twilight had never seen a young changeling before, but there was no mistaking this one for anything else. “I won’t! I… I… c-can’t…”
Twilight felt the air around her getting warmer, even as her mane began to wave in an invisible wind. Twilight felt magic crackling around the edge of her horn, and did not try to hide it. She ignored the words, ignored the broken knife. “Where. Is. My. Daughter?”
She lifted the little changeling into the air, holding her less than a meter away. Twilight wasn’t sure she had ever seen Celestia as angry as she now felt.
The changeling whimpered and shivered, squirming in vain. Twilight did not let her retreat, and those thin wings beat without moving her. “WHERE?”
“N-not… not here… harvesting center… Fillydelphia…”
Twilight gestured, and with her will thick chains appeared around the changeling’s hooves, bolted straight into the floor. She was yanked down, smacking into the wood with a whimper. “If your… If your kind hurt her…”
You’ll what? Some of the power faded from around Twilight’s horn as she finally noticed the broken dagger pieces. Twilight lifted the different pieces into the air, assembling them back into their original configuration and reading the runes there.
Twilight didn’t know the specifics of dark magic the way some ponies did, but she didn’t have to. She knew a spell meant to kill an immortal when she saw one.
Twilight considered the whimpering changeling in chains, considered the implications of her words. She’s not much older than the real Chance. The thought came unbidden, and no amount of anger could get it to go away. How could someone send their daughter away to murder?
She dropped the broken knife, and tried not to sound so furious. “Tell me, imposter—are your ponies working with Tirek?”
The insect wouldn’t look up at her anymore. She didn’t have drone eyes—more like predator’s eyes, like Spike. She had a real mane, though it had holes. The burns on her carapace looked real too. “Y-yeah.”
Twilight grew more urgent, walking around to force the drone to look her in the face again. “Tell me everything you know about this plan. If you want mercy… you must tell me.”
The changeling struggled, whimpering under the apparent stress. Twilight did not watch too closely, and found herself struggling to feel the compassion she knew she should. These monsters had already attacked Equestria before. Ponies she knew had been hurt. They had foalnapped Second Chance before too. They deserved more than a few tears.
“We… helped him… helped him find unicorns to…” She curled up, thick chains rattling as she did so, shaking all over. “To get magic from. He’s been… months now… replaced them with changelings so nopony would notice.”
That did explain one mystery: how Tirek had been able to find the magic to get stronger. Twilight felt the anger return as she considered that thought to its conclusion. These changelings had given her daughter to be harvested.
She banished the thought for now. The Fillydelphia “harvesting center” would be getting a visit soon. Once she finished learning what this drone knew. “And once he could steal magic from other ponies?”
The filly whined. “I wasn’t—super involved… I think he was gonna be fighting the big military strongholds… going through and weakening ponies. Queen’s… changelings would replace all the leaders… She would be his administrator, a vassal queen. She’s probably already taken Canterlot by now. We had so much of the leaders already… so many unicorns…”
Twilight’s eyes narrowed. Still, it wasn’t as though this young changeling could have been very involved in all of this, could she? How long did they live compared to ponies? “One last question. How long?”
“Just… just a few days,” the chained changeling answered. “The warehouse full of machines was her trap… ever since then.”
“Right.” Twilight turned away, walking slowly down the hall. She reached Spike, nudging at him with one hoof. He muttered something, curling up around a large book.
Maybe in simpler times Twilight would have let the baby dragon rest. It was still daylight outside—felt like that had gone on for way too long—but he would have to wake now. Twilight aimed her horn at him, and blasted the dragon with a wakefulness spell far more potent than coffee.
He jerked into a sitting position at once, eyes wide. “Twilight!” His claws were shaking with energy, practically vibrating. “What is it? Is it reshelving day? Time to build a new library? I’m ready!” He saluted vaguely with one of his claws.
“Unfortunately not.” She flicked her tail behind them, at the changeling chained there. “I have captured a prisoner. I have to go and make sure the information I’ve learned from her is spread around Equestria. I need you to guard her.”
“Right away!” Spike broke into a run, darting between piles of books almost as tall as he was and stopping just beside the changeling. “Uh… Twi—who was she?”
“Chance.” Twilight didn’t turn around, walking over to the window and frowning at the sun. It was long past sundown, and now Twilight realized why. Just as she had needed to raise the sun, she would have to put it back down again.
Twilight reached with her will into the vastness of space and found the construct guiding her planet. It was magic beyond imagination, the magic of a thousand Alicorns and more, with a complexity she could scarcely imagine even with her new strength.
Even so, she didn’t have to understand it. Celestia and Luna had given their power to her, and with it their sympathetic connections to the bodies they represented. Twilight pushed her mind against them until they started to budge.
Twilight felt Equis beneath her hooves, wheeling wildly in its orbit. For reasons she couldn’t understand, hostile forces pushed constantly on the planet, willing it to go careening towards the star or away from it into the void.
Only magic beyond comprehension kept it in its course, magic she now controlled. Twilight lifted from the ground, her mane flowing out behind her into sudden ethereal life. Was their connection to this magic what gave Celestia and Luna their unusual manes?
Twilight hoped she would get to ask one day. As it was she landed a few seconds later, the sky dark outside and filled with stars. It was no night Luna would’ve been impressed with, but… it would have to do. Better a mediocre night than one side of the planet baking while the other freezes.
Twilight panted from the effort, but that was all. It wasn’t nearly the strength she would’ve expected moving stars and planets to take. “O-okay, Spike.” She walked back towards him, letting herself recover before her next wave of magic. “The Crusaders can help you when they come in here, but don’t let her out of your sight. If anything happened to Chance, she’s going to answer for it.”
“You got it!” Spike was pacing back and forth in front of her, apparently having not noticed or not cared about Twilight's effort raising the moon. More likely than anything he just didn’t realize. That was fine by her.
“Wait!” The changeling had lain down on the ground in her chains, looking glum. She looked up now though, urgent. “There’s another one! Sweetie Belle—I wasn’t part of it, but she’s a changeling too. Chance’s friends aren’t safe around her.”
“Is that so?” Twilight gestured, and the little white unicorn teleported into the air in front of her. She searched a moment with her magic… and it didn’t take long. Changelings were very good at pretending, but Twilight had all the power of Equestria’s immortal princesses. She felt the trace of magic and unraveled it.
Sweetie Belle changed—she grew larger, expanding to almost the same size as a full-grown mare. Her body lacked the definition that Chance’s replacement did, she had a frill instead of a mane and the other telltale signs of a drone. She was still asleep.
That was just fine so far as Twilight was concerned. A second drone near to her first was too dangerous—they could think to each other, work together, plan. Yet she couldn’t kill the drone, or do anything else that might prevent her from extracting information later. If Sweetie Belle wasn’t stuffed in the “harvesting center” too, she would need to come back and learn where Rarity’s sister had been taken.
Twilight explored the castle with her mind, finding a crumbling dungeon cell somewhere far, far below the ground. It had no light, nothing more than a little drip of water and a pool of stagnant moisture on one side.
She banished the drone there with a flick from her horn, and sealed the whole thing up with freshly conjured stone. Well, except for a teeny little air hole and the crack the water was coming through.
“Alright.” Despite all her magical work, Twilight didn’t feel even a little tired, and there was no headache. “Any other imposters I should know about?”
The drone shook her head. “None I know about specifically. But…” She lowered her head. “Did you raise the moon just now?”
Twilight’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she couldn’t help feel a little satisfied at least somepony had noticed. Even if it was an evil changeling imposter that had helped kidnap her daughter. “Yes.”
“Well…” She looked up, meeting Twilight’s eyes for the first time. Did that mean she was being honest, or… was this more pretending? “The sooner somepony fights Tirek, the better. My mother didn’t… think he would ever get weaker. If nopony kills him, eventually nothing will be able to stop him.
There wasn’t anything useful in any of the books… Twilight didn’t answer the imposter. She just pictured Fillydelphia, imagining the warehouse where Chance had been kidnapped. “Where is this ‘harvesting center’?”
The captive gave her an address, and Twilight nodded. “If you lied, I’ll be back.” She vanished, not stirring the air as she did.
Second Chance heard the sound of distant cannons and gunfire from within an APC with a ceiling way too high for her comfort. It was a surreal experience. I’m in a human vehicle in Equestria and I’m still a pony.
There were seats along the wall for twelve men in full combat gear, which meant each of the seats was even more gigantic than they would need to be just for a pony.
The space seemed all the more vast since it was almost completely empty. Empty except for one passenger, who said nothing and stared straight ahead.
Their companion wasn’t even an adult. The “High Technocrat” who was apparently in charge of this entire operation was actually younger than Chance or Sweetie Belle.
Well, at least from the way she looked. Maybe ten, with bright red hair and pale skin covered with freckles. Instead of armor she wore a formal-looking gray and silver robe, of the sort Chance had seen in Steel Tower holos in her childhood.
Lyra had tried more than once to engage her in conversation, but without success. The girl had been curt, telling them that she was busy controlling the troops and couldn’t spare any concentration for anything not related to the battle.
Lyra hadn’t really understood, but at least she hadn’t protested.
“How is the battle going?” Second Chance had to give herself something to think about, or else she would start drifting back along that sea of apathy. Very little in the world seemed to matter, and the more time she spent thinking about it the more she would find herself returning to that.
Second Chance felt no magic anymore. The world washed around her in a haze, and the more things she saw with brightness and life to them the more irritated she became. It was like extreme sleep deprivation, staved off only by an increasingly toxic brew of drugs in her brain and body. Sooner or later she would have to rest, and she wasn’t sure if she would wake up.
Brigid’s voice was one of those things that annoyed Chance. It was high and musical, as musical as a pony’s with pitch just as perfect. “Informing you serves no tactical purpose as yet.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Chance sat up, glaring at her. The APC had no windows, nor any other control buttons she could manipulate. Tower vehicles were often that way though, since they were intended for people with radio control in their bodies.
Chance could do it too, but most Federation citizens didn’t have Neuroboost. “I am the only one in this APC who knows any tactical information about Canterlot. I know about its physical and magical defenses… the ones that have probably been turned on you now.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m guessing something must be working if you aren’t in already. You’re firing…” She listened to another explosion, feeling the shake through the treads. “That’s a 200mm gun at least. Your siege artillery won’t be able to get through the city shield.”
The human (who looked like a child, but Chance wasn’t fooled) looked up. She stared at her with sudden interest, and Chance didn’t look away. She didn’t even flinch that she was sitting in such a way that more of her would be visible to a modesty-sensitive person like a human.
“I’ll get through eventually. It will weaken eventually. We’ve already turned the exterior fortifications to dust.”
Sweetie Belle gasped. “B-but… those were pony towers!”
There was no remorse on Brigid’s face. “Manned by the enemy. The primitive cannons couldn’t harm my troop transports, but they could hurt my soldiers once they’re deployed.”
“You don’t know the first thing about war, Technocrat. Of course you don’t… or you’d be a knight.”
Brigid turned her glare back on Chance. “My knight decided to go off with all his ‘squires’ and fight a monster I’m not even sure exists. I’m the only hope for this city now.”
Sweetie Belle turned away, lying on her belly across her seat. “We’re doomed.”
“I don’t know why you would know more than I, native. Your people haven’t even dreamed of the weapons my army fields now. It might be many centuries before they do.”
Chance ignored that. “I don’t know what knowledge your Tower made you learn when you came to Equestria. Whatever it was, though…” She shivered. “It wasn’t enough. What do you think the ponies of Canterlot are going to think when they see you’ve destroyed their towers outside the shield? Maybe they think they’re better off with changeling conquerors than an enemy that doesn’t even leave their buildings standing.”
She rose to her hooves—it wasn’t that hard to stay balanced with the APC not actually driving. “Canterlot’s shield spell was upgraded after the last changeling invasion. My mom said they made it strong enough to take an asteroid impact.”
Brigid faltered a little. She looked no less obstinate, but at least a little less decisive. “That’s not… If it was that strong, how could the invaders get inside in the first place?”
Chance advanced towards where she sat, glaring. She couldn’t help it—this Brigid was far more dismissive of Equestria than she herself had been, so confident of her own strength that she missed all Equestria’s powers. Typical Tower crap, so sure they were the superior race and that no organics could ever outstrip them. We know the secret to making sapient artificial intelligences, and you don’t, she wanted to say, all too smugly. You’ve made yourselves into AI and you can’t even reproduce.
It was Lyra who answered, though she looked more than a little disturbed. “Shield spells don’t stay on all the time, they take too much magic. If the changelings got in slowly over time, they would already be inside when somepony finally switched it on.”
Second Chance continued where Lyra left off. To her satisfaction, the ground no longer shook with the sound of Brigid’s artillery. “A city ward is more general than the kind ponies put on their houses. They only discriminate by species: anything pony is allowed through, but nothing else. Lyra and Sweetie Belle and me could go in…” She frowned, but it wasn’t as though hiding the information would help them.
She didn’t want to continue, but continue she did. “And you too. Wards don’t stop nonliving targets if they aren’t doing threatening things. If you walked nice and slow, you could walk right through.”
The girl sat back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest and looking thoughtful. “The four of us could walk right through it,” she muttered. “Shut down the ward from the inside, let the army in.”
“Yes,” Chance agreed. “But none of us can really fight. You’re a Technocrat—maybe you’re fast, maybe you can fly or go invisible or something, but that won’t get you to the shield. The changelings obviously control it, and they’re masters of deception. You’d never be able to fight your way through. Maybe Sir Leo could… but not you.”
“Chance,” Sweetie whispered from beside her, voice timid.
Brigid ignored her, not giving Second Chance the opportunity to reply either. “So we wait for him to get back from his fool’s exertion empty-handed. He can get it for us then.”
Chance shook her head. “I doubt we have that kind of time. Changelings have instant communication across vast distances. I would be very surprised if more changelings are not flying on your position right now. You have… what, a thousand soldiers? If we have to wait here in the open, we’ll be overwhelmed.”
“Second Chance.” Sweetie’s voice was a little more insistent, and she looked up from her resting position on the chair.
Chance kept going. “Maybe we can make it back to your burrows in time, but I promise they’re watching. They might just be waiting for us to give up and turn around, so they can descend on us while we’re going back down the mountain.”
Brigid nodded, biting her lip. “You… may be right. Assuming your assessment of changeling strength is accurate—”
“SHUT UP!” Sweetie Belle’s scream was so high and shrill the lights seemed to flicker. She stood up on the seat now, glaring at the both of them.
Apparently their shocked expressions were her desired outcome, because she smiled with satisfaction. “Good.” She turned to Chance. “I don’t think this is as hard was we’re making it seem.”
For the first time, Brigid did not interrupt them. “What’s the easy way?”
“Well…” Sweetie Belle hopped down onto the floor, swinging her tail about behind her. She looked so vibrant, so alive, but Chance couldn’t let it get to her. It was no fault of Sweetie Belle’s that Lyra and herself could not feel that way too.
“I know your uncle was the one who came up with the shield and all… but you hadn’t come to Equestria yet, so I figured maybe you didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?” Chance followed her, biting back her frustration. It mostly worked.
Sweetie Belle didn’t seem to be in any hurry, though. “We talked about it in school, how in the end it was Princess Cadence's love magic that finally got rid of all the changelings. She did something sorta like what the Crystal Empire uses, with that heart thing…” Sweetie Belle gestured vaguely with her hoof.
The human scoffed, and somewhere far away a gun started firing again.
“If there was a princess in there, I don’t think the changelings could’ve taken the city.” Unless, of course, Tirek had been here first. Could the awful magic he had turned on her work on princesses? She didn’t even want to think about it.
It’s not possible. The princesses are too strong. Celestia has lived for thousands and thousands of years. And Luna—Luna knows how to fight monsters. She has that magic sword of hers…
Of course, Sweetie Belle couldn’t hear her thinking. “Duh! The princesses must be… fighting the monster! So they’re too busy. They’d probably get to Canterlot, but…” She shook her head. “We don’t need to wait for them. Because of the shield.”
She took a breath. “Big shields like this don’t just check to see if you’re a pony! They use the way ponies feel! The ponies inside, I mean. They’re scared right now, so the shield would be on no matter what the changelings wanted. Right?”
Chance nodded. “I guess…”
“It works both ways!” Sweetie grinned at her. “If we’re in harmony, the shield knows we don’t need it! Just like—”
“Just like at the Starlight Flower’s ruin,” Chance finished.
Now it was Brigid’s turn to look frustrated. Still, that meant they had provoked some real emotion from her, which probably counted as an accomplishment. “That sounds like native superstition. Even if it isn’t though, I don’t see how it helps us. If the shield knows how the city’s inhabitants feel, then we’ll never get it down that way. Their city is occupied by monsters, and we’re besieging it. There’s no way we could make them feel… ‘harmony.’” She said the last word with enormous disdain, then muttered, “I have no idea how a species with such primitive beliefs managed to create a city-sized force field.”
“I know one way.” Sweetie Belle’s grin didn’t falter. “We could sing!”
Brigid laughed, her voice harsh and cruel. “You’re not serious.” She turned away from them, glaring at the wall. “Leo sends me ‘native tactical experts.’ I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”
Chance might’ve thought something similar, had it not been for the person voicing her objections. If the Tower Technocrat didn’t think it could be done, though… she would get it done out of spite. “It might work. Ponies do like to sing. Sometimes it feels like once somepony starts, everypony has to join in even if they don’t know the words.”
She shifted uncomfortably, struggling to find an answer. “But, Sweets, Canterlot is a huge city. Even if the dogs stopped making tons of noise and attacking the shield, there’s no way we could be loud enough.”
“We wouldn’t be much use.” Apparently Lyra hadn’t dozed off after all. “Chance, what you’re talking about takes magic. Only Sweetie Belle still has any. But…” The dejected unicorn’s face suddenly brightened. “Wait a minute!” She gestured to Chance’s saddlebags, resting on the seat beside her.
Chance opened them, though she didn’t have a clue what the unicorn was talking about.
Then she saw it sitting there: the music player she had made for Lyra almost a year ago. The one that you could use to turn anything into a speaker, so long as it was flat enough.
Chance had once worried that she would find a wall in a large building and fill Ponyville with out-of-place human music. To her credit, Lyra never had.
Chance drew it out with her mouth, then switched it on. The little music player had about a half charge. Plenty of time, even with maximum volume.
“Alright, Technocrat Brigid.” Suddenly it didn’t matter to Second Chance that all her magic was gone. She hadn’t smiled this wide since she had first made friends with the CMC. “We need one dog and one microphone. Give us those, and we’ll give you something to write that king of yours about.”
* * *
Never in her life had Brigid considered she might witness something so absurd. Even most of the Imperium’s fantasy simulations had more realism than it took for this plan to work.
Brigid watched the ponies work from the eyes of one of the dozen or so bodies she had brought into battle, robes billowing about her in the fierce winds up the mountain.
Brigid’s dogs were assembled now, in dense battle lines. She knew the method of their organization only academically, and did little to involve herself with the lieutenants Leonidas trained.
Whatever else the green native had said, she was right about one thing: Technocrats were not trained for war. Clearly the green one hadn’t been either, judging on the plan they had chosen to get her troops into the city.
It doesn’t matter how stupid their plan is if it works. Brigid stood about five meters away, hands behind her back as she watched.
The city itself flew black flags from its towers, with a broken green heart visible in the center. Even the despots are adorable here. Well, maybe the rest of what the conquerors had done to the city was less adorable. There were hundreds of dark almost-ponies just beyond the shield, watching with those dead insect eyes.
Well, maybe watching wasn’t the right word. They leered, resting on buildings and on the road and wherever else there was space for them. Brigid’s lieutenants had responded by spreading their troops as wide as possible along the other end of the river, so that as many as possible would be able to get a clear shot once the shield fell.
Maybe I should try to get through and shut it off. It can’t be more doomed than this plan. She didn’t though. Brigid had gotten sick enough of the green pony with her self-righteous superiority and all the knowledge she claimed to have that Brigid had decided to let her try.
Mostly she wanted to see her fail. But if a changeling counterattack just happened to come while she was out in the open with that vulnerable flesh, well… casualties of war, right?
She watched the city from beside her APC, briefly reactivating her sense of smell and letting herself hear again. The choke of gunpowder and death almost set her to retching, and Bree had to catch herself on the side of the APC, or else put on quite the display for her army.
I’m not fighting—the dogs will deal with that, she reminded herself, for all the good it did. There was rot in those walls, soldiers and martial law and other horrors. Bree had seen all of it before along the streets of London. She wouldn’t let them overwhelm her now.
The natives proved remarkably resilient to the horrors. None had been discouraged when they saw the state of the city, towers burning or crumbled and distant screams coming from within. They stood strong on the bridge, right where the shield would’ve prevented Bree’s dogs from crossing. Bree had assigned all four of Leo’s “squires” that hadn’t gone with him to that task, and three held swords in their paws instead of rifles.
The fourth Squire held an Old-Earth-looking music player, the sort made for bringing music to concerts and other large venues. Bree could only guess at where the adult unicorn had gotten it.
Maybe from the OMICRON core Leo said he found. As though such a machine could’ve made it across the rift. Bree hadn’t actually wasted any of her resources to investigate the claim first hand, for reasons that were totally about wanting to get to Canterlot as fast as possible and not even a little related to how terrified she was of encountering one.
“You about warmed up, Sweetie Belle?” That was the annoying green one’s voice, the one who knew too much about Earth and Leo had apparently respected enough to send to her.
The little white unicorn finished her scale. “Yeah! I… As ready as I’ll ever be.” She pawed at the bridge, scratching nervously.
Even Bree was impressed—she couldn’t have been closer to perfect pitch with electronic lungs. Not that it’s going to make a difference for taking down their impossible force-field.
“Okay. Lyra and I will try to help, but…”
“But it’s mostly you,” the adult added. “We don’t have any magic.”
“Like we need magic to sing.” The green and yellow one sat down beside the other young one, in the weird pony way that reminded Bree so much of animals.
“Most ponies do.” The adult had to set the microphone down on the bridge to speak, as she had been holding it in front of them with her mouth. Bree didn’t understand why she didn’t use that strange levitation ability, but she didn’t really care. Her tactical position was better if the ponies couldn’t, in any case.
“Wait, what?” The green one turned in genuine confusion. “That’s not how singing works! It’s about rhythm, pitch, meter…” She stopped, then turned away, dismissing it. “We don’t have time for this.” She looked up. “Mr, uh…”
“Simon,” the old dog croaked, smiling down at her. He looked to be enjoying the exchange almost as much as Bree herself—like watching a pair of Old Earth cartoons fight.
“Yes, Mr. Simon. Could you please hold that up to the shield? The soft round part, just press that up as flat as you can. Hold it there no matter how much it shakes, and don’t press too hard.”
“Yes, filly.” He stepped forward, into line with his fellow armored squires. As he did, the shield burned into faint pink life, a gradually rounded bubble that looked like it extended all the way up the city. Of course, it only stayed visible while he was close. He reached out, holding the little object to the shield. “Like this?”
The green one nodded, then gestured to the blue-green pony. Without a word, she lifted the mic back up into her mouth. “Testing, testing…”
The shield roared briefly, suddenly surrounding the whole city. The whole thing vibrated with sound, far louder than Bree imagined was possible even from a whole army of sound amplifiers. Must be something to do with the “magic.”
The green one cleared her throat, then continued. Her voice was much more confident now, as confident as Bree herself had sounded when she first addressed her dogs. “Ponies of Canterlot! A friendly army waits outside your shield to free you from the changelings, but we cannot get in. My friend is going to sing—everypony who can should too. Together we can bring the shield down and save all of you!”
She stepped back then, gesturing at the microphone. Her friend shifted uncomfortably on her hooves, and seemed to be getting reluctant. Maybe that was the watching drones, all staring at them. None of them reacted. They know this isn’t going to do anything but make the captured city feel more helpless when it fails.
The white unicorn flubbed her first few words, and whined something Bree couldn’t hear. Her friend embraced her, gesturing at the mic. It wasn’t as though Bree wanted to imagine how embarrassing it would be to look stupid in front of an entire city—not to mention the enemy.
Not that there’s any other option. Even the best performance in the world isn’t going to bring down the shield. We’ll have to wait for Leo—take our chances they can’t reinforce.
The white one started singing again. “Equestria, the land I love…” It seemed like a national anthem, patriotic and sappy. Even so, Bree found herself staring, disconnecting from all her puppet bodies so she could concentrate.
The whole shield was visible now, under the constant barrage of sound. Even so, Bree’s drones could still circle above, and a few visual filters could cut through the shimmer of magic.
Bree watched ponies emerge from their homes, or stop on the street, watching the sky. It was hard to tell from outside the shield, but… as she watched, it seemed like more and more of them were joining in.
The green one sung along, though she wasn’t nearly as good as her friend. By then it didn’t matter—there were so many voices coming from within the shield that their speaker seemed to drown.
Bree couldn’t have quite described what she felt next. It wasn’t unlike the way some of the Imperium’s simulations would impart knowledge of their rules to newcomers, helping them stay in sync and to work together. It was like that, but… not quite.
Brigid walked closer to the little singing ponies, and found she felt the words before she heard them. Bree had never heard this song before, hadn’t read it in any of the ancient books. She hadn’t heard the melody either, though she had loved music and studied many Old Earth styles.
Bree walked across the bridge, to where the little ponies sang. They weren’t all that smaller than she was, really. A foot, maybe two. She didn’t even have to stoop to join them.
The little green one choked on her words for a second, eyes widening. Bree ignored her—she wasn’t singing for anypony else.
Bree let her vision in her last few drones lapse as she listened, clutching at a chest that had no heartbeat. She felt them—thousands of voices, all singing together. They might not be assembled in the same place—yet all their faces were there, their thoughts, desires, and fears.
Brigid felt magic.
It almost wasn’t a surprise when the shield started to flicker, washed away in the love and harmony of Equestria’s ponies. Shocked changelings were no longer sheltered behind impervious magic. They stared, evidently as surprised as Bree would’ve been before she felt it.
The little white pony started bouncing up and down, shouting to her friend about something. Brigid didn’t hear it over the roaring of her dogs, the hundreds of voices demanding their orders.
Brigid wasn’t a knight, and she could not lead a charge. Yet she could encourage them, as she had seen him do. “Dogs of the great pack!” she roared over the radio, into the ears of every soldier in her army. “Our shared enemy has taken this city from our friends! Prove your strength to your brothers now, your sisters, and to your king!” Bree had no sword. Instead she lifted the utility knife from her belt, flicking it open and raising it over her head. “For the Steel Tower!”
The ponies couldn’t hear of course, none of them had communicators. They had the good sense to get out of the way as the shooting started, running back towards the APC and past the lines of growling dogs.
The dogs of the Great Pack did not all wear modified powered-armor as the squires did—that rare honor was reserved only for the best fighters.
Even with only breastplates and helmets, her dogs shook the earth as they charged across the bridge towards the changelings waiting on the other end.
Thus the battle began in earnest.
Brigid did not fight it, not personally. For every dog there were ten anti-personnel drones, sweeping over the city with a simple directive: kill every changeling they found. Her lieutenants could request more of them to strengthen their numbers, or to assist when dogs were injured and needed to be extracted.
Within ten minutes every changeling at the entrance had been dumped into the river, and her APCs were circled around the entrance to the front marketplace.
Gunfire shook the city as they fought, broken with savage barks and howls and the screeching cries of changelings as they died. Brigid herself returned to the command vehicle with her pony guests.
There was something different about the white one. She didn’t notice at first, not until a lull in the fighting gave her a bit more concentration to spare. She looked up at her nervous guests, where they sat conversing in the far corner of the carrier. “Pardon me…” After what she had just seen, Bree bothered to look back at the moment Leo had introduced them. “Sweetie Belle. I didn’t notice that tattoo before. Does it have something to do with that fantastic display of yours, just now?”
Despite the circumstances, despite the sounds of battle and death not far away, the young pony grinned. “Sure does!” She turned, as if to give Bree a better view. It wasn’t much, a semiquaver silhouetted on a simple heart-shape. Even so, the pony wore it as though it were some sacred treasure. Her friends treated her that way too, practically awed by her performance. “I’ve been waiting for this for a really long time.”
The green one—Bree checked, her name was Second Chance—rolled her eyes. “What did Truth tell you?”
“Something musical where I was helping other ponies.” Sweetie Belle shoved her friend lightly on one shoulder. To see the little ponies, it seemed to them that the battle was already won. “But nothing ever came up! Doing good with the Jr. Ponytones wasn’t enough…”
“You were pretty good,” the adult agreed. She turned, looking up toward Bree. “You too, Precursor.” Her expression was so weary, so tired, Bree almost regretted what she was doing. Almost. “I know we don’t have inventions like yours, but… our magic is pretty special.”
“Magic,” Bree repeated, with much less disdain than she had ever said the word before. It was a strange choice of words these natives had made, but… maybe a correct one. “What was that?”
The adult—Lyra, she now cared enough to remember—sounded exhausted as she spoke. “Some ponies call it… heartsong. Anypony can do it, but it’s usually the most magical, important ones…” She glanced briefly back over her shoulder at Sweetie Belle, impressed. “It’s a song that everypony wants to sing. They’re usually pretty special.”
“Kinda scary the first time,” Second Chance admitted. “Hang around in Ponyville’s open air market for a week or two, you’ll hear one.”
Outside, Brigid’s blitzkrieg went on. Casualties reported in the double digits, while kills were in four and still rising. Everywhere her dogs went the ponies of the city rose up, doing the brunt of the fighting for her. They hardly even seemed to notice as she replaced the four-legged black insect drones with four-propped white ones flying overhead or resting atop buildings.
“Why do you care?” Second Chance’s voice returned Bree to her most prominent body. Not the one her consciousness was really in, obviously. Taking herself into battle would’ve been beyond reckless. “I thought the tower’s whole deal was that they already knew the best way to do everything. Don’t you just roll in and set things up your way?” She seemed to be making an effort not to sound insulting.
“That’s true enough.” She shrugged one shoulder, rising again and gesturing at the wall. It unhinged before her, unfolding an armory rack stuffed full of different weapons. Bree selected one, a netgun often used for catching dangerous animals, and calmly removed it from the wheel. The guns stopped moving around, retracting back into their organizational shelf. “The tower’s method is the most effective ever devised. That doesn’t mean that we shouldn't make an effort to learn local customs, however.”
She sat down beside the gun, not even touching it. The ponies were all staring at her now, not even seeming to notice the gun. “It’s good to know the customs of those lands we conquer.”
The reaction was fast enough that even Bree did not have to accelerate her perception of time not to get bored. A wave of tense energy passed through the natives, starting with the little green one and moving to the white one. The adult only looked stunned, like a punch to the gut.
“You lied to us?” Sweetie Belle’s voice no longer sounded melodious, but so shrill it almost shook the cabin. “You said… You said you were gonna save Canterlot.”
“That was no lie.” Bree nodded matter-of-factly, gesturing at the wall. “You hear that out there? I know you can’t see with those primitive bodies of yours, but… we’re winning out there. The changeling ruler has already fled, and their forces only hold parts of the castle. Within the hour we will have expelled or destroyed every changeling in Canterlot. Is that not honoring my promise?”
“Liberate Canterlot.” Chance turned on her, advancing slowly in her direction. “Liberate doesn’t mean to make into a vassal of the Steel Tower.”
Bree shrugged. “The definition of liberate is somewhat subjective. Liberate from violent oppressors and give into the hand of friendly allies is still a liberation.”
The little green unicorn was only a few feet away now. Bree wasn’t worried—even if that strange ability the natives called magic could blast this body to a billion pieces, her consciousness was elsewhere. She could detonate any piece of large hardware she had, including this APC. If the need required. She doubted it would.
“You’ve just done Equestria a service, Technocrat Bree. You’ve made an ally for your pack and your king.”
She leaned up, lowering her voice to a whisper. Of course everyone in the APC could still hear her. “It doesn’t matter if you intended betrayal or not… nopony has to know. Change your mind—when the battle ends, put the ponies back in control of their city. Otherwise…”
Her whole body tensed. Bree expected some kind of surge of magic, maybe all the magic this little native had been saving. Yet there was no sign of magic from her, only determination.
“Or what?” Bree raised an eyebrow. “You three are my prisoners. You can make no threats.”
Well, the white one wasn’t going to be making any threats any time soon. Her brief anger had been exhausted in seconds, and now she only sobbed. Sobbed into the sympathetic grip of the adult, babbling things like, “My fault… I helped conquer Canterlot… all my fault…”
Second Chance was harsher, and hadn’t relaxed even a little. “Not us. Think about it, machine.” Back to those stupid insults again. Bree didn’t really care what Federation crap the native spewed, no matter how vulgar the slur. “If your knight kills Tirek, then the biggest threat to us is gone. Equestria is a nation of millions. You can’t possibly hold a city in its center. Pony troops can come right through the shield, even if you do get it back up.”
Bree smiled. “You assume I haven’t considered all that, native.”
The pony was undaunted. “Well, suppose all the armies in all Equestria can’t take the city back from you. Suppose you know how to make them give up somehow…” She gestured up at the ceiling. “There are ponies so powerful they make the sun rise and set with their magic. Ponies that can seal a Hawking rift or create a living pony from nothing. I don’t know where they are, but… when they find out what you’ve done, it won’t matter how many puppet bodies you have.”
Bree gestured at a nearby wall, bidding the little computer to unfurl. The display grew to about two feet across, film-thin plastic. “You mean the princesses, right? Your tribal deities?”
Chance nodded.
Bree couldn’t help but grin; she was going to enjoy this. “You mean these princesses?” She gestured at the screen, which filled with the image from her drone camera. The drone was aimed at a vaulted ceiling somewhere in the castle, in a large hearing chamber they had only recently taken.
There were three pods attached to the stone with something like thick green glue, sticking it firmly into place. Each one had a pony inside, ponies Bree knew to be expecting from their frequent depiction in the books on mythology her dogs had stolen.
They were all Alicorns, with horns and wings both, and absurd things written about their power. There was no evidence of that power now, for each slept helpless. There weren’t even signs of struggle. “There’s good evidence they’ve been there for many hours. Yet the sun still set before our battle, without their involvement.”
Her images had the desired effect. The ponies stared in shock, mouths hanging open. Even the green one with her infuriating knowledge of human things and unbearable pride was silent in the face of such evidence. “B-but…” The disbelief was palpable in their faces, seeming almost to fill the APC around them.
Bree didn’t even bother trying not to sound smug. “Don’t feel too bad. It’s quite common for primitive societies to ascribe supernatural abilities to regular people. It’s a jarring experience to be confronted with the reality.”
They had no more retorts. Tails fell flat, the three proud unicorns reduced to whimpers, worried stares, and barely repressed sobs. Somehow, Bree didn’t think conquering the rest of Equestria was going to be too difficult.
Bree casually reached over and took up her netgun, firing it straight at the stupefied equines. They fell into a limp bundle on the floor, almost not seeming to notice. So much the better—Bree wasn’t afraid of losing this body, but it would be unfortunate to need to print another.
* * *
Twilight Sparkle appeared with a bright flash of magic, indicative of her agitation and the lack of focus governing her teleport. It wasn’t as though she didn’t have the power to travel all around the planet in moments—maybe even further. Could Alicorns leave the protection of the planet the way regular ponies couldn’t?
Today was not the day Twilight would learn. Today she scanned the intersection with urgent eyes, easily piercing the gloom despite the faint light of only a few flickering streetlights.
Her target wasn’t hard to find. Most of the buildings she saw had clear, legal purposes obvious just at a glance. Then there was one side of the street, where a gap between two buildings made room for a single black storefront barely wide enough for a door. There was no signage, nor any sign of traffic. There was an ominous-looking, unlit stairwell with police-ponies on either side and barricades of yellow tape.
They were all staring at her. Twilight straightened, focusing for a moment so that the ethereal glow would fade from her mane. She was getting better at hiding that, though she wasn’t sure if there was much point anymore.
“Princess Twilight?” She recognized the police-pony from the many she had met during her last visit to Fillydelphia. His mane was fierce orange, gone white around the edges from age. He looked sheepishly away. “Didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”
“Mean Beat.” Twilight stopped only a few feet away, unable to keep her eyes from darting back down the opening. There was very little else to see—the ordinarily bustling streets were deserted, no cart traffic on the road. Fillydelphia was a ghost town. “I’m afraid my last visit had some consequences I didn’t expect.” There was no formality from her, no waiting. She didn’t have time for any of that nonsense with her daughter in danger. “Is this the harvesting center?”
His companion’s face seemed to lose some of its color, suppressing a weak sound of disgust.
Mean Beat nodded, looking darkly down at the opening. “Aye, Princess. That’s… one way you could describe it.”
“I assume your department has already cleaned the place out? Where did they take the ponies who were being held there?”
“Mercy General, a block that way.” To his credit, the old police-pony didn’t look away as he delivered unpleasant news. “The department hasn’t been able to go through the… ‘harvesting center’ yet.”
Twilight’s voice grew cold. The air around her did too, breezes seeming to curl oddly around her hooves. Even the stars seemed to darken a little. “I expect the chief has a very good reason.”
He nodded, looking past her to the empty streets. “If you’d been here a few hours ago, Princess… you might not have believed the chaos. First the telegram that Canterlot was apparently under attack, then the moon was a few hours late…” He shivered. “Then the first team of ponies we send in there come out carrying… victims, and word of that starts getting around…”
“Buckin’ mess, Princess,” the other police-pony muttered, staring at the floor. “There are ponies saying this is the end of the world.”
“Chief didn’t send any more ponies down there once the rioting started. Mayor declared a state of emergency, curfew, all that… Word is they’ll have the officers to go down tomorrow morning… assuming they can get anyone to do it.”
Twilight Sparkle did not have time for this. There was the guilt—guilt she hadn’t discovered the imposter sooner, guilt that she had been poisoned and been late setting the sun on the same day she had been late rising it. There was the rage at these ponies that they were too frightened by the victims to send them the help they needed. Fear for Fillydelphia straining under the stress of so much bad news. What was that about Canterlot under attack too? There was no end of it!
“Disaster is no excuse for us to act like monsters instead of civilized ponies,” Twilight muttered, forcing herself to exhale. “Both of you, bring every EMT and trauma doctor and volunteer you can find. I’m going to get everypony out.”
“You’re wh-” Twilight gestured, and the police-ponies vanished in two little flashes of light. She had put them right onto the steps of Mercy General, a few blocks away. Such an incredibly precise teleport, and when she wasn’t even involved personally, was ordinarily beyond her abilities. Not anymore.
If I couldn’t do that, I would have a harder time with this… Yes, she could’ve ran down there and told the ponies trapped inside how to get out. Yes, she could easily have dispatched whatever enemies or traps waited for her. There was nothing in the world that could stop a power like her.
Twilight stepped out of the road and onto the sidewalk, where Hard Beat had been standing moments before. She closed her eyes, unfocusing her mind and letting it drift.
Equestria itself was before her, a shining light of millions of souls. Most slept now, and she felt their uneasy dreams grating against her, drawing her toward them. They were only a few of the ponies who needed her help and would not get it tonight.
There were some who would, though. Twilight Sparkle focused on herself, letting the millions fade into the background. Their voices and dreams became little more than a dull roar, unsettling but not distracting.
Soon she could see herself, a brilliant inferno of magic and power against the darkness. She turned her mind downward, probing under the streets and buildings as she followed the stairs into the depths with concentration instead of steps.
There were ponies down there, all right. She almost didn’t recognize the first one, not compared with the numberless concourses of Equestrians teaming in the city. The first one she saw, collapsed in a hallway somewhere, looked very much like a pony. She had thoughts like a pony, and emotions like a pony. But just because she had those two didn’t mean she was intact.
To Twilight’s magical senses, this first refugee wasn’t even a spark. Equestria’s latent field, roiling in turmoil tonight, passed through her with as much resistance as the walls or the desks. Her cutie mark, which Twilight saw binding each pony to the planet itself, wasn’t even there.
This pony had been violated, in a way Twilight already understood. But hearing of it from Celestia was not the same as witnessing it for herself. The end result of Tirek’s jealousy of Equestrian magic might have been less horrific if it left ponies living without their heads. Twilight no longer wondered at the police’s reluctance.
That didn’t mean she would leave the victims to suffer alone. All space is one, Twilight recited in her mind, remembering the first time Celestia had explained teleportation to her. She willed it, and the unconscious victim appeared at her hooves. Twilight ventured further with her concentration, exploring every hallway and room.
The skilled wizard can see through the illusion of separation. Ponies appeared around her on the street, everyone butchered as the first one had been. Not one of them was dead, though Twilight wondered if they might be better off that way. She can order a change that better suits her will. There was some peace in the recitation, peace in something that was good and familiar and not another twisting of the world she knew.
Twilight’s eyes were open now, burning with the radiance of magic unchained. She could still see clearly, and watched each face for the one she yearned most to see.
The master mocks distance, and grows beyond her singleness of self. She no longer glimpses beyond the veil—she tears it open. Stone shook beneath her as Twilight lifted from the ground, her mane flickering in the glow of a sun that did not shine. Dozens of ponies appeared with every second, filling the intersection and the sidewalks. Twilight continued to search, until she had exhausted every last corner of the abominable facility and not a single pony was left trapped.
She wasn’t even out of breath when she landed, alighting on the sidewalk where she had been standing before. There were no longer any Equestrian ponies in the facility, and she slammed the door shut with a contemptuous gesture. Let the dozen-or-so changelings she still sensed wandering down there find their own ways out. She had not come for them.
“Second Chance!” Twilight set to wandering through the crowd, searching for a pony she already knew wasn’t there. “Sweetie Belle?” They were unicorns all, mare and stallion and foal. The changelings were no respecters of persons.
It wasn’t much of a crowd, really. There was no danger of the ponies rioting on her, not with the way they looked. More likely, it seemed like they might keel over and die. Few had been spared the awful treatment. Those that still had cutie marks looked shocked and hurt enough that they probably wouldn’t be causing trouble either.
A few seemed coherent enough to understand her, standing or leaning on each other in a near-drunken stupor. “Please!” she shouted, loud enough that the glass of buildings all around briefly shook. “I’m looking for my daughter, green filly with a yellow mane and a planet for a cutie mark. Also a white filly the same age, with a pink and purple mane. Has anypony here seen them?”
The ponies moaned at the noise, but most didn’t respond. One did, though. With a spear cutie mark, but a stern face and a silver mane. There was a little of the Canterlot Guard to her accent. “Aye, Princess.” She took each step very slowly, and lifted one hoof to a vague salute. “T-the green one claimed to be… p-please, help these ponies.”
Twilight Sparkle knew of only one way to do that. None of these ponies could hold Alicorn magic, even small fractions of it. If she wanted them to have their magic back, she would have to get it from the one who had stolen it. “I will. First, though… what happened to her? Why isn’t she here?”
The pony swayed, and Twilight offered her hoof to steady her. She wasn’t sure if any of her healing spells would have done any good. She could hear distant shouting from behind her, along with many galloping hooves. Her messengers had succeeded, then.
“She… didn’t seem as hurt as the rest of us. Her and another mare… they said they were getting help…”
“They did.” Well, that explained how the police-ponies knew about this place. Twilight hadn’t even bothered asking that question, not before she got her daughter back. “What did the other mare look like? Did you know her name?”
The feeble guard pony shook her head. “N-no… not her name. She was, uh… blue-green, with… a light green and white mane?”
Could that be Lyra? Well, at least her daughter would be around somepony she knew. That didn’t help erase any of the rage she felt. Rage that ponies had been made to suffer this way. Furious, tearing guilt that she hadn’t been able to stop it.
Celestia gave me one pony and I couldn’t keep her safe. How am I supposed to protect all Equestria?
“Thank you, Miss…”
“Iron Spear, Princess…”
Doctors and orderlies and police-ponies tore down the street in a tight herd, very close now. White wagons lined up behind them, obedient to the will of a princess.
Twilight Sparkle could not find her daughter here. She couldn’t use her power to search for the filly through all Equestria, not if she had been violated as these other ponies had been. She could not sense a magic that was not there and search all the country at once.
When the police-ponies returned, Twilight asked what had happened to her daughter. They didn’t know, except that they suspected she might’ve stolen a train. Twilight clarified that if she did, it would’ve been at her royal request.
The doctors seemed a little better prepared than Twilight herself had been. She saw horror as they went through Tirek’s victims, but that didn’t stop them from doing their work. Soon the street began to clear, as cart after cart wheeled away.
The police-ponies couldn’t tell her where her daughter had gone, though she did confirm that Chance was alive and apparently with Sweetie Belle at least. Rarity’s sister had apparently escaped the torture, though nopony knew why. It wasn’t as though Twilight could ask Celestia.
I can’t keep looking for her. She’s alive… but Equestria is in trouble. I can’t just worry about one pony anymore. Twilight approached Hard Beat, clearing her throat.
As she expected, the police-pony stopped what he was doing, turning away from the medical orderly and bowing respectfully. “Princess?”
“I want you to get the word out. Talk to… whatever pony you have to. Tell them the princesses are alive and well. Tell them they still rule Equestria. When the sun rises tomorrow—and it will rise on time—this terror will end.” She gestured at the ambulance carts. “Reassure the families of these victims that their loved ones will be restored and those responsible punished. Understand?”
He nodded. “Aye, Princess. I understand.”
She turned away. She would need to find some proper rest before tomorrow.
It had been a long time since Second Chance had nightmares—nearly six months in fact. For the first time since she had come to Equestria, the nightmare she saw was not from her memories of Earth. Chance saw a dark star, growing wider and wider in the void. “There is no friendship in the void,” it laughed. “Why don’t you join me there?”
Second Chance woke screaming. There was no anger from the eyes all around her, only sympathy. Even with her youth, it would be clear enough to anypony who watched that her lack of a cutie mark didn’t mean she hadn’t found it yet. Second Chance had felt it when she saw the ponies in that awful prison, and she knew the ponies here would feel it in her.
The dungeons were very cold. It was hard to say how many ponies had been trapped—though when Chance had been brought most of the prisoners had already been here. It might’ve been the changelings had been the ones to round them all up and not the Dogs, it didn’t really matter.
It was so hard to care. The ground was cold beneath her, the stone unyielding against her coat. Her skin burned from so long without proper care, and her extremities were numb. What did it matter? If the princesses had been captured, been disabled or killed… Equestria really was doomed.
In her healthier state, Second Chance might’ve wondered how it was possible. She might’ve plotted and planned an escape as she had done with the ponies in that awful prison.
As it stood, the castle ponies gave them a wide berth, staying away from the corner of the cell their canine captors had dumped them. Lyra was asleep now, or perhaps unconscious. A nonmilitary Nanophage could not push a subject beyond the safe limit, and it seemed the limit of safety had passed.
She knew there was a good chance she was damaging her liver by keeping the drugs in herself so long, but she didn’t care about that either. In the gray darkness without magic, nothing mattered. I should’ve said no to you, Princess, she thought, though she knew Luna would not hear her. When you appeared to me in the dark, I thought you were a demon come to torture me. The hope Equestria gave me is far more a torture than anything the monsters did.
Time passed. The moon moved across the sky, visible only as a faint glow through a tiny window with many bars. Chance spent the night in various stages of sleeping and waking, blurring between the two and finding no rest in either.
Eventually she heard hoofsteps, metal clanking down the hall outside. Chance didn’t look, didn’t really see the space outside the cell. Nothing mattered anymore.
She heard the other ponies cower, retreating as the lock clicked. Rusty metal squeaked as the door swung open. A deep voice said something, and she didn’t really understand.
Something nudged her side, something she knew was important without knowing why. She moaned, pushing vaguely away with a hoof. The something grew more insistent, jabbing her in the ribs. She sat up. “W-what?”
There was an armored form in the doorway, too large to fit inside. It had massive armored gauntlets, and a gun on its back so big a pony couldn’t have lifted it. Chance blinked to fearful life, remembering images like this from all the propaganda she had seen on television.
There was no brave Free People’s Army soldier to kick the evil armored figure out of the way and start giving a recruitment speech this time, though. There was only Sweetie Belle’s quiet voice, whispering in her ear. “Do you wanna fight him? I bet we could—”
“No.” Chance rose to her hooves, settling her shoulders grimly. “Not with armor like that. He could kill everyone in here and we couldn’t stop him.”
The low sound rumbled again. She recognized it for a voice this time, echoing from exterior speakers. “Green and yellow pony, come with me.” He gestured with one armored hand, out of the cell. “No one else.”
“You sure?” Sweetie Belle’s eyes narrowed. Her coat was dirty and her mane disheveled, but that was it. There was still vitality in those green eyes, still magic. “I’ve got a cutie mark now. I can probably take him if you can’t! And Lyra…” She glanced down at the unconscious mare. “Well, she probably can’t help, but…”
“No,” Second Chance repeated, stepping forward. “Thanks, Sweetie, but no. It’s me she wants. I’m the one who knows about Earth.” I’m also the only one who can stop her now.
Not that she had much of a hope of that. Kimberly had already tried breaching the Technocrats wireless network, without success. Kimberly Colven could’ve disabled a machine like Bree in her sleep, if only she had a connection.
Kimberly Colven had not been sent to Equestria as a hacker, though. She did not have the tools for fighting Technocrats. Maybe I can trick her into visiting the library.
“Good luck.” Sweetie’s voice was drowned in the sound of slamming steel.
The dog gestured, though he had no weapon in his hands. “There are unseen weapons watching you. If you run, they will hurt you.”
“I won’t run.” Second Chance walked in the indicated direction, letting the pain of each step bring wakefulness back. She walked in silence for a time, listening to the grinding metal steps as the armored dog followed behind her.
The dungeons all looked the same to her, all rough stone with empty torch-brackets. She could still see her way, though, thanks to the bright headlamps on the dog’s helmet.
“How does it feel to be an oathbreaker?” she asked, her voice bitter. She expected the armored monster to kick her, or to shout with anger and rage.
No blow fell. Instead she heard grinding, the faint squeak of metal. When the dog spoke, its voice was far quieter, and no longer coming through speakers. “Like a betrayal of everything the Old Alphas taught.”
Chance turned. The dog had gray in his coat and mane, and one of his eyes had been replaced with an implant. Even so, she could see the pain in those eyes.
The dog continued, his voice low and quiet. “Sir Leo would not allow this travesty, pony. Do not think so badly of the Old Alphas because one is wicked.”
Chance looked up into the old dog’s face. “Why not stop her?”
The dog had to be seven feet tall, probably weighed half a ton. Even so, it was he who shifted uncomfortably under her eyes. “Loyalty to the alphas is our first virtue. I am sorry, pony.”
“I’m going to stop her.” Chance wasn’t sure where the words came from, but come they did. Chance turned around and started walking again.
“Good luck, pony. The young often fail to see the world as it is. I would not like our pack to be remembered as traitors.” His helmet slid back into place with a click, and they were soon making their way up into the castle proper.
Elegant polished floors had already been scratched and scuffed by many claws, and cracked by the massive boots the armored soldiers wore. Chance hadn’t ever been here before, but she had seen drawings and had a general idea of what to expect.
She could find no beauty in the castle tonight, not when all the pony guards were gone and the air was filled with buzzing drones.
It was all Chance could do to keep walking around so many. She was a little girl, with two legs instead of four. Thick crowds thronged around her, threatening to tear her little hand from her sister’s grip. Alexi tugged her a little closer, shoving themselves a little space.
The crowd were all students from their school, dressed in bright blue uniforms and all wearing backpacks. Sneakers squeaked on sticky floors as the smell of bodies grew stronger. They passed into the subway station, through a wall of nanoarmor reinforced with sturdy sandbags.
The soldiers of the Free People’s Army had armored vests and visors, just like the dogs standing guard by windows and doors. Only the soldiers had smiled at them, one even waving at Kimberly as she passed. She had waved back, not really understanding the gravity of the situation.
The sky started shaking, fixtures shaking and dust raining down. Someone screamed. “Drones! Drones!” People started shouting, and the crowd quickly became a mob.
Kimberly clung to her sister’s wrist with a child’s determination. As the crowd of children moved, they were swept together.
Second Chance was not thronged this time. The halls were almost deserted in the castle, and nopony blocked the way. Her escort walked her out onto a balcony. The sun was faint on the horizon, perhaps minutes from sunrise. Even so, she could still see the light in the courtyard from the fire.
There were at least a thousand changelings there, drones heaped along with furniture and scrap wood. They all burned together, filling the air with rot. “She ordered me to take you here.” He didn’t remove his helmet this time.
“To throw me in?” Chance swallowed, glancing over the rail at the burning changelings. “I thought your war dogs had more honor than striking an unarmed child.”
“We do.” Even through the speakers, she could hear his pain. “She wanted you to see what happened to the Tower’s enemies.”
Chance shivered, though she did not cry. Luna’s healing touch had done much for her emotional health. Even so, her voice was barely a whisper. “They already burned my family.”
“I’m sorry.” The dog turned. “Come with me, then. The alpha is waiting.”
Second Chance spared another moment for the dead. Not all the changelings she saw looked like soldiers. Some were thin, with the refined look of politicians, aristocrats, and laborers. Even invaders deserved better than to be heaped like dung and burned.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to the dead. “If I ever get the chance, I’ll give you more kindness.”
The dog took her into the room she had seen earlier, the wide round room with green slime coating every surface. The floor had been scraped clean in the interim, revealing the intricate mosaics beneath. Chance could see none of their beauty now.
The room was piled high with equipment, machines of metal and plastic. Every one had the same logo etched into the side, an elegantly sloped tower rising over the earth.
The enemy that had murdered her family now ruled over Equestria. Even going into another universe wasn’t far enough.
There were no walls, only wide pillars opening up onto an early morning sky. Dogs with breastplates but not armor rested by every entrance, watching with stoic faces.
None seemed to mind the ponies glued to the ceiling. There were three pods, each one of transparent green slime, each one trapping one of Equestria’s rulers. Chance shivered at the thought of her own mother up there, but didn’t find her. Celestia’s mane no longer waved, and there were no stars in Luna’s. She had only seen Cadance a few times, but even she seemed feeble.
“Merciful God,” Chance started, fighting back her shock. “You left them up there?” She barely even looked at the machines, though they probably would’ve horrified her just as much if she had taken the time.
“God is dead.” Brigid’s voice was matter-of-fact. “My people killed him long ago.” She was in her robes, though the dust of battle was gone from them. She strode past a large machine, nodding to the guard. “You may go, Simon. Thank you for retrieving her.”
“Yes, Alpha.” He saluted, then turned and walked away, out the open door. The guards slammed it shut behind them, leaving Chance with no escape.
“It’s time to kill another one.” She gestured up towards Celestia. Chance looked, and saw with horror that Celestia’s eyes were open.
“You couldn’t!” Chance squeaked, advancing towards Brigid. She didn’t actually close the distance, not with so many armed guards watching. Not that it would make much difference even if she killed this body. Brigid would have others.
“Oh, I could.” She turned away, apparently unperturbed by Chance’s equine anger. She made her way past the massive machines, towards the huge open window. It faced east. “But no, that isn’t what I meant. Their lives are safe for a little longer.” She gestured to the empty space beside her. “Come, watch with me.”
Chance obeyed. Did the magic-sucking monster get here before we did? “I don’t see why you care about what I see.”
“Watch the horizon.” Brigid didn’t even look at her. “Don’t look away until I tell you.”
The railing was built for pony height, but even Chance needed to strain a little, resting her forelegs up on the edge so she could look.
A few minutes passed in silence. Chance watched morning in Canterlot—though she doubted it was usually this withdrawn. Ponies moved furtively about the streets, and there was no sign of carts or business. The city felt very fearful, despite its apparent liberation.
The sun began to rise, spreading yellow and orange over the mountains. She saw the edge first, then a brilliant halo as it spread. Soon the fields were all lit, a sea of green and brown. She could even make out Ponyville in the distance if she squinted, though she couldn’t see it well enough to see any ponies moving about.
“There.” Brigid’s young voice sounded satisfied. “You see your princesses above you, powerless. You see the sun rising anyway.” She turned away from the balcony. “Can we agree your primitive tribal faith has been disproven and proceed to rational discussion?”
Chance shivered, looking between Celestia and the sun. True enough, the sun was rising. She was helpless up there. She didn’t know how it was possible, not after having seen Celestia raise the sun. Chance couldn’t look, not with her magical senses. She didn’t have those anymore.
“It wasn’t really a religion.” She kept her voice low, though she tried to stand as close as she could to Brigid. “Ponies respected the royal sisters because of all they’ve done for Equestria over the years. There weren’t prayers or rituals or scriptures.”
Nanophage, command console.
Ready.
Activate cyberwarfare suite.
As there had been the day before, there was a little bit of a delay. Neuroboost was the strain used by hackers, but that didn’t mean she usually used those features.
Ready. As she saw the text, her eyes filled with information. She saw the mesh network depicted as false color superimposed on the world around her. For a second, it almost looked like her magic had returned and Equestria was alight again.
But no, it was the machines that glowed with light now, not the ponies. Unreadable encrypted packets soared through the radio waves around her, each one unassailable.
Her implants had no chance of breaking into the network, not if she let the algorithms run until the sun got cold. Of course, things would be different if she could actually connect, but… it wasn’t as though she had a fiber jack or any non-deterministic penetration hardware.
Could magic do that? It didn’t matter—she didn’t have that either.
Only moments had passed, and Bree was still speaking. “We turn now to the subject of the Tower’s new government here, pony Second Chance.” Her eyes narrowed. “Am I correct in assuming that you do not have magic?”
“You… What makes you say that?” She whimpered, though at least she kept her back straight as she glared.
“You and the other green one discussed it at length in my presence. I didn’t pay attention yesterday, but… I have since had cause to consider your words more closely. If my understanding is correct…” She was only inches away. How had she gotten so close?
Bree wasn’t even fully grown, yet she was still a full head taller than Chance. “It must be agony for you. Not having magic… suffering every moment.” She reached out, resting a cold hand in Chance’s mane.
Tears came unbidden, and Chance nodded. She didn’t want to, certainly not around this monster. She did anyway. “So numb… music is all gone…”
“I need a skilled advisor,” Bree explained, running her hand gently through Chance’s mane. “Nobody from the old system, who might have entrenched allies and an agenda. But you… you understand ponies, and my enemies taught you all about humans…”
“Wouldn’t that disqualify me?” Chance pulled away, feeling her whole body tense involuntarily. “You betrayed my trust and conquered the city we came to liberate.” She gestured violently up with one hoof, glaring. “If I do, will you let them free?”
Bree nodded. “In time. When their release would not pose a political danger. That sounds a fair exchange for what I expect of you.”
Second Chance shivered, her tail tucked between her legs. She didn’t know everything about how the political system of Equestria actually worked. Even so, she had lived with a princess. She knew the ponies, knew the magic, and knew their beliefs. Brigid could use her.
And she could use the opportunity to undermine her. Lie, manipulate, gather allies. I hope that knight lives. He wouldn’t stand for this. “You’d trust an enemy as your advisor over a veteran?”
“Under the right circumstances.” Brigid reached out, gripping the thick cloth covering the machine in the center of the room. She tugged, exposing the machine underneath.
Second Chance recoiled, mouth hanging open. “How the fuck did you get this to Equestria?” In her shock, it was the English she spoke, not the Equestrian she usually used.
The machine was roughly round, about twenty feet wide. The central pillar was a massive computer, with manufacturing arms and surgical tools that could move freely. Around the central pillar were five cots, all but two of which were folded flat for storage.
One was empty, flat with numerous straps. One had a body, like someone asleep. The body was Brigid’s own age, and wore nothing but a hospital-like gown of paper tight about her. Her hair was yellow instead of red, in the exact same shade as Chance’s mane.
“I could not trust a native. Even if you promised your good will in exchange for something like the release of your rulers, it would not be a guarantee. Organics are known to make irrational choices, such as sacrificing themselves or others in exchange for whatever they imagine the greater good to be.”
She walked around the bed, resting one hand on the edge of the cot, a few inches from the plastic body. “Become one of us, however… and things change. Your honesty can be certified with circuitry.”
Chance reached back with one hoof, feeling the bare skin on the back of her neck. When she had been this young the first time, she had imagined what it would be like to “lose” the war, and to have Steel Tower troops drag her into one of these machines. Robotic scalpels would cut her skull open and scoop her brain out the hole.
It didn’t quite work that way, but children didn’t appreciate subtle differences. Even since learning those impressions had been wrong, there were other aspects of the process she still had very firm beliefs about. “You want to turn me into a machine. Like you.”
“Yes.” Brigid walked away from the bodies resting in sleep, past Chance. “Your body is weak, you rot even now, though your youth remains. The Tower does not permit its servants to be lost to infirmity.”
Second Chance shivered, walking up to the cold cot and sniffing at it. There was no scent of blood here, as she had been expecting. Had nopony been killed with these machines yet? Was there any way for her to prevent it?
“How… would it work? What would actually happen to me?” There was no keeping the fear from her voice now.
“Nothing like the lies the Federation probably fed you.” Brigid walked back to the machine, sticking out her hand. As she did so, the mechanical arm whirred, extending and dropping something there. It was a metal disk, with a little square section attached that trailed an inch or so of transparent filament.
“This is a cortical recorder,” she explained. “We install this right above the spine. You’re unconscious for a few hours as it integrates with your body, and you are downloaded onto the network.” She gestured at the center of the pillar. “This isn’t the kind you wear around—this one will kill your body as it goes. When it finishes, you can get a brand new body.” She reached out, and the arm took the recorder back, vanishing back into the central area again. “A human body, which would make you a full citizen of the Tower.” She turned back around to face Chance. “Understand the weight of the opportunity I’m granting you. Not even my dogs have had this chance, though they will in time. Every pony will have it… though there is no guarantee you will live long enough to experience it if you refuse.”
“Because… you’ll kill me?” She glanced up again, at the three Alicorns trapped there. She wondered how much they could hear, trapped in those pods. All three had open eyes now, watching her with various expressions of defeat. None had tried to speak.
Brigid shook her head, grinning. “Why would I need to? You’ve lost your magic, native. How long before that drives you mad? I would leave you out of the dungeon long enough to watch these ‘princesses’ starve in their pods, then…” She shrugged. “If missing your magic doesn’t kill you, a few years in solitary probably will.”
I wonder if you’re a bigger monster than the one who stole my magic. Of course, if she actually agreed to do what Brigid wanted, she wouldn’t just be giving up her magic forever, though she would be doing that. It would also mean the death of what made her human, the transformation into a deterministic machine. It was the loss of the soul, whatever that was.
Maybe it’s worth maybe getting killed if it gets the princesses free. “You just betrayed us.” She gestured at the balcony. “Captured Canterlot for yourself. How do I know you aren’t going to do it all over again? Make me into a machine, then leave me there? Or… do it, then kill the princesses anyway?”
“I guess you don’t know.” Brigid shrugged. “I assure you, you’ll see my intentions quite clearly if you refuse. Otherwise, I suppose you’ll just have to take your chances. Aren’t you all about chance? It’s in your name and everything.”
Chance gritted her teeth. I’m sorry Dad. Sorry Mom. Sorry Alexi. “Okay, Technocrat. Just… Just get it over with.”
Brigid’s smile was almost wide enough that Kimberly could pretend it was real. It wasn’t real. If she failed now, she would be another machine. “Walk over to the operating table. I’ll help you up.”
Second Chance looked up, meeting Celestia and Luna’s eyes. I’m sorry, princesses. You gave me back my life—I should honor your gift better. Chance tried not to shiver as Brigid lifted her up onto the steel, tying down her limbs one at a time. Sturdy velcro trapped each one, putting Chance on her belly in an uncomfortable twist of positions.
“We will speak again in a few hours, Second Chance.” Brigid turned, walking slowly away from her, as though she had lost interest. Chance couldn’t really watch her, not with her face turned toward the central pillar. She could hear the sound of whirring machinery, and the arm that was even now moving towards the back of her head.
She felt a faint prick in her neck, then the world started to swim.
Nanophage, keep me awake!
Command acknowledged. The outline of the pillar and the flicker of sunlight Second Chance could see beyond continued to sway a little, but the sleepiness wasn’t enough to drag her down.
She gritted her teeth, pulling her tongue back in preparation for the pain she knew was coming next. After all, she wasn’t supposed to be awake for this part.
Fire burned from the back of her neck, a lance that passed through skin and muscle and into the nerve. Her whole body convulsed, tightening against the straps. For a few seconds she had no self control at all, wracked violently back and forth against the straps entirely against her will. There was no pain like this, no agony any organic being had ever imagined. This was death.
Of course, she knew it wasn’t the brain-tissue that would hurt. There were no pain receptors in the brain, thank God. Otherwise her plan would’ve been doomed.
Tower hardline detected. User preservation protocol engaged.
From across the room, Chance heard Brigid’s steps abruptly stop. “The hell—”
Network security penetrated. The pain was faint now, faint enough that Second Chance could make out the cyberwarfare suite, still before her eyes. Root access granted.
She reached out with her will, and the machine burrowing into the back of her neck stopped its work.
Before her stretched Brigid’s network, a mesh of thousands of nodes. Chance found herself responding more by rote, not really thinking. Kimberly had not been a dedicated hacker, or even worked in security. Unfortunately for Brigid, every Federation technician was trained for situations like this, and every military strain of Nanophage contained resources she could use.
She seized control of every suit of armor, every drone, every weapon in the room, sending a copy of the virus stored in her implants bouncing through the network. Brigid was there somewhere, inhumanly intelligent and fast. In a contest with her, Second Chance wouldn’t have stood a chance.
Unfortunately for Brigid, the intrusion programs Second Chance now used had been written by the most skilled hackers in the Federation. Chance did not need to be an expert to use them against a system not prepared against an attack within itself.
Her access to Brigid’s mesh spread rapidly, bouncing from node to node back towards Ponyville. For every node Brigid took back, Chance tore two more away from her.
“Kill h—” Brigid’s body started to say, before Chance took that too. Dogs jerked upright, paws on their weapons.
She was equal to that, though. “Nevermind.” The voice sounded mechanical, even from across the room. Chance wasn’t sure how to make it move yet, either, so it froze in place.
You can’t do this! The message came from one of the few nodes not yet under her control. You can’t.
I had another name, machine, she sent back, before seizing another node—a drone outside a deep system of burrows. Chance kept expecting her next node to be her last, but… that wasn’t what happened. Brigid was still fighting, casting feeble attacks and penetrating one or two nodes closer to the city with every ten she took.
It was a futile, doomed assault, yet it continued. Before I swam alone across the void. Surgical arms cut at her straps, severing the velcro binding her without cutting the flesh underneath. She couldn’t pull the last arm away, the one that sunk machinery into her head. Doing that might kill her—she wasn’t sure. I am Kimberly Colven, and I will not let you do to Equestria what your kind did to Earth!
With a command, drones soared up into the air all over Canterlot, away from the buildings and the ponies beneath. They began to detonate, a shower of plastic and machinery. Ponies started to scream… but she had moved them, so the worst of the debris would not come down on the city.
No! Chance couldn’t know how Brigid could know what she was doing. Maybe she could see the hundreds of little explosions and knew what they meant. You can’t!
I assure you, we can. Kimberly received another message, with a familiar notification code attached. “01”. No sooner did she receive it, than the rest of the network was abruptly within her control. No simulated human mind had a prayer against an OMICRON core and its non-deterministic processing. Evidently one of Brigid’s nodes had finally moved within range, connecting him to the mesh.
There were tens of thousands of nodes. Weapons, huge suits of powered armor, unmanned attack fighters… the list went on. With her mind contained partially by the network, Kimberly Colven knew them all, each one a hardware address and a list of commands.
What would you like to do? Truth’s voice came into her head with his usual brevity, unmoved by the danger all around them.
There’s a civilian body in the uploader next to me. Can you transfer the Technocratic consciousness into it?
In answer, the body beside her started to twitch and spasm against her restraints, shaking violently at the velcro. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but no words came out. Chance could see terror in those eyes.
Say they word and I can give her back the rest of her systems.
Destroy every other piece of hardware that could hold her consciousness. Sabotage every fabricator too—don’t leave her anywhere to go.
She heard more explosions in the distance, though she couldn’t say if she was using her ears or the sensors in any of the devices acting as nodes.
The doors banged open again, and over a dozen different dogs stood in the opening. At their lead was the squire Chance had seen earlier, his helmet already removed and his expression fearful. None of the others dared to intrude, all watching him as he hurried inside, dropping to one knee before Brigid’s old body. “Please, Alpha! Your machines are destroying themselves! We hear reports of explosions and fire all the way to the Great Pack’s burrows! We must have your orders!”
Chance looked over, meeting his eyes. She smiled. Can you put my words in her mouth?
Easy.
Kimberly Colven found the Technocrat’s old body nodding of its own accord, looking sagely at the dogs as she sent the words. “This is a test of your obedience. I require every dog to throw down their weapons or die right now!”
The sun was rising. Bright yellow light leapt over forest and scrubland beyond, shadows getting shorter as the seconds passed. Of his squires, all had volunteered to join him today. Leonidas had brought only two. Brigid might’ve tricked the dogs of their army into fighting, but there was no deception here. These dogs knew they came to their deaths.
There was no missing it now—the battle raged only a few miles away. Wherever the monster had gone, it had found its way back to the little pony village. Even as he looked up, Leo watched the library the green native had taken him to explode in a shower of wood and fire.
What was the monster doing? It was hard to tell from this distance. They were more or less concealed amidst the thick trees of a wood, and made no effort to expose themselves yet. The little Technocrat was not here to curse Leo for the foolishness of ritual. Not today.
Duke and Yuna were both on one knee, the posture a little stranger for a dog than a human, but not much stranger. They met his eyes, each with a bulky paw to their chests. “I will be a knight of the Steel Tower, and uphold the honor of my Lord through my actions. I will strengthen the weak. I will comfort the fearful. Confidence without arrogance. Truth without deception. Peace without oppression. Compassion without restriction.”
Sir Tullius Leonidas said nothing as he walked past the dogs. He stopped in front of Yuna, looking into her scarred, white-furred face. “Squire Yuna, how long do you serve?”
He found himself smiling as she answered. “Until death.” In the air behind her, the great monster soared, seeming either not to notice them beneath or not to care. Leo cared just as little for what the monster was doing. He didn’t even consider that some other might conquer this foe before he did. Equestria’s princesses would not have allowed such a monster to roam free. If it did, it meant they couldn’t help.
A monster that could strip ponies of their magic might be beyond even the princesses to conquer. Their weapons depended on magic. Not so with himself and these knights-to-be.
Leo touched his sword to each of her shoulders in turn. “Your Lord accepts your oath,” he replied, his voice clear amid the deserted trees. “I name Sir Yuna, Knight of the Steel Tower.”
Yuna rose to her paws again, drawing her fist to her chest in a salute. Even through the armor Leo could see her pride.
He passed her, looking into Duke’s eyes next. He was much darker, with black fur giving way to brown around his mouth and neck. Several of his teeth had been chipped once, but were now replaced with implants. “Squire Duke, why did you come?”
There was no ritual answer, any more than there had been for Yuna. “To protect my home.”
“Well said.” Leo did as he had with Yuna, touching a sword to each of the dog’s armored shoulders. “I name you Sir Duke, Knight of the Steel Tower. May your courage never fail and your sword never rust.”
Duke rose, repeating the salute. Together, these new knights glowed with pride, along with courage. It was a courage they would need before the day was done.
Men, princesses, little green ponies… and dogs. They weren’t that different, really. How many would Leonidas watch die? Leo touched the satchel on his back, feeling the warmth of the reactor there. The energy it fed into his armor and body never seemed to wane—an entire fusion reactor only for him. A pity he didn’t have his old armor, with its integrated magnetic polarization shield. Any advantage would have served well in the confrontation ahead.
I am sorry I couldn’t have seen you again, Princess. Leo reached up, and with the push of a button his helmet closed again around his head. Sirs Yuna and Duke imitated the gesture, and soon the three of them were totally sealed away again. Without a word, Leo took off running, huge armor digging massive footprints into the dirt. Computers and programs took care of most of the work, allowing him a far greater pace than any a human could reach through trees and forest.
His dogs ran on four paws instead of two, and probably could’ve passed him if they wanted to. She might’ve been insufferable, but at least that Technocrat knew how to build. She had adapted this armor to work in either stance. His squires had trained many hours in it, though not the years he would’ve liked.
“We’re going to come at him from all sides,” he explained as they ran, his voice not reflecting any strain from the effort. Which made sense, since he didn’t actually have to breathe any harder to run. “Activate your active camouflage.” They did so without hesitation.
Of course, even the most advanced light-reflection field would do very little for the fact that they were still a trio of one-ton metal hulks crashing through the woods at fifty kilometers an hour. Their footprints would not vanish either, and they would be very easy to track.
“We will try with conventional weapons first. Remember your training, and hurt him as much as you can. While you attack from the ground, I’ll be in the air. If you fail…” He shook his head, though neither would see it. “I will use the Equestrian weapon.”
Well, it was a bit more complicated than that. It wasn’t as though they had the Elements of Harmony or any of the other tools Equestria had for dealing with threats like this. It was all Leo could do to assume that they weren’t available.
Duke’s voice was low, like someone who gargled gravel with breakfast in the morning. “And if he didn’t kill us already, we die.”
“Yes.” Leo did not say even a word that might distort the truth. “Along with everyone for two kilometers in every direction. It is good the monster is fighting… something… so far from civilization. When it finishes, we may have to lead it further into the wilderness.”
“And you don’t think we should help the one it’s fighting?” Even as Sir Duke spoke, something exploded from a mountain far away, magical force that shook the ground beneath them and might’ve knocked them over. Might’ve, if they weren’t all armored knights.
“I wish we could.” Leo shook his head sadly. “Long ago I fought beside a princess with stars in her hair. We killed nightmares worse than this.”
“You don’t think us two could fight like a pony?” Yuna didn’t sound defensive, though Leo knew better than to assume she wouldn’t feel that way. Knights vowed not to give in to their baser emotions, but that didn’t mean they didn’t experience them.
“Not a princess.” His voice was wistful. “I can’t describe some of what she could do. But… we need not feel shame we are weaker than she. A knight does not rush into battle foolishly when prudence might secure a victory.”
The battle raged on far away, at a scale that probably would’ve killed any one of them even through the armor. Can’t be worse than getting melted by a dragon. Well, not worse for him. His knights had recorders of course, but that did not make them immune to pain. If this monster struck them, it would be an agonizing death.
“I wonder who it is.” Duke’s voice was not rebellious, only curious. “Fast pegasus to stay away so long.”
“It isn’t Princess Luna or her older sister.” Leo looked up, focusing his eyes on the faintly purple blur he saw. “A brave pony hero. We pray them success, but we won’t expect it.”
They moved on in silence then, through a forest thick with trees. Animals scattered at their passing, though none would be able to see them. Time passed—even Leo wasn’t in a terrible hurry. He ran towards death.
Eventually they reached a clearing, a clearing swept clean of trees and burned black. It wasn’t empty.
There were seven natives here, and none of them looked good. It was like the village all over again, with the faded colors and missing cutie marks. Leonidas could not sense the missing magic, but he could make enough sense of his dogs’ shocked muttering.
Six were ponies, in their usual array of colors. Two from each tribe, except… “Stop.” They were on a ridge now, overlooking the ponies below. Something was wrong… not only was there a creature limping after them that looked almost like one of the statues Leo had seen in the Canterlot garden, but… one of them was an Alicorn.
“Do either of you know that purple pony down there?”
“No,” Duke finally admitted. “Never followed Equestrian politics.”
“Indeed.” Leo groaned, then pressed his hand again to the side of his helmet. It retracted at once—the single innovation this suit had over the one he had worn into Equestria. “Follow me, but stay quiet and out of sight. I want a word with these ponies.”
The monster had not killed them. It was hard to tell, but it had looked like the purple one had been fighting it. He would need to learn what they knew.
Leonidas decloaked, letting his armor of bright green appear from the trees. He walked slowly down the ridge, both hands out. “Excuse me!” he shouted, towards the defeated crowd.
They all stopped to stare, though none lifted their hooves against him. Unsurprising, given what he knew about the condition they were probably in by now. They looked suspicious, confused, and bewildered by his appearance. “Not another monster!” he heard one of their voices exclaim, exasperated. “This isn’t even the Everfree!”
The other ponies all seemed to agree, all except the purple one. She muttered something to the others, then stepped forward, meeting his eyes.
There was none of the incredible power that often marked Alicorns—her mane didn’t shimmer and no light came from her eyes. She was a little bigger than her friends, but that appeared to be it. “I know your face.” She sounded as drained as her friends, though that wasn’t the only emotion he heard. There was also awe. “You died in the first invasion. I visited your tomb, Leo the Bold.”
“I did.” He gestured around the clearing behind them, burned and flattened by magic. “Was it you I saw fighting the voidspawn abomination?”
She nodded, then deflated. “Tirek. He… He has it all now. All the Alicorn magic in Equestria.” She glanced behind her, at the little crowd of ponies and one strange creature. “Our fighting would’ve gone on forever… I gave it up. Their safety for the magic.”
Leo sighed, though he tried not to do so too loudly. It wasn’t surprising to see the ponies making such obvious strategic follies. What good would her friendships do her if the magic of all Equestria was stolen and the ponies starved? No matter. She had survived the fight, which spoke highly of her abilities.
There was little more he could learn here. “Did this Tirek continue west?”
She nodded. “The opposite way we came. Probably… shouldn’t go that way. He’s even bigger now…”
“Is Luna still Princess of Night in Equestria?”
The new Alicorn nodded. “She is.”
Tullius Leonidas started walking again, passing the pony and her lonely group. “I suggest you ponies hurry to safety. When you feel the ground shake, close your eyes and stay as low to the ground as you can. Whatever you do, don’t look.”
“What?” The Alicorn’s voice was the only one with any strength, even now. He wasn’t moving very quickly, but he had already passed the strange creature in the rear. “What are you going to do? Tirek can’t be stopped… If all the Alicorn magic of Equestria wasn’t enough, then…”
He ignored the question. “When you see her next, please convey my apologies. It would have been… good… to see her again.” Whatever the new princess said next was lost as he slid the helmet back into place and started running again. They would have to make better time if they wanted to catch up with Tirek before he reached another city.
* * *
“What did you mean—” Duke asked, when they were running again. They were moving far faster now, as fast as their armor would go through the trees. Forest blurred all around them—a single mistake at these speeds would either end with a shattered trunk or a broken soldier. “What is ‘voidspawn’?”
Ahead of them, the ground started to shake. It was monstrous footsteps, each one unsteadying them a little on their feet. To their credit, neither of the new knights fell. “The alpha and myself came to Equestria from another world,” he explained. “Between all worlds is the void, a darkness without end or beginning. It contains nothing, yet that nothing is every possibility—every creature, every demon, every monstrous thing that could exist. Sometimes living creatures make contact with the void, making contracts with the demons within. The result of such a union is voidspawn.” His tone darkened. “These monsters destroyed my world too.”
The humans who had breached the universal barrier had not done it with magic, nor had they gained the power to steal it from ponies. Most had only gained knowledge, knowledge both sides had used to make the weapons that unmade the world.
“You think we have a chance?” There was the monster, rising as tall as any pony structure ever had. It rose above the trees, its coat black and red and its torso frighteningly human.
“We do.” Leo reached behind him, drawing the massive rifle from his back and settling it into both hands as he ran. “Our cause is just. To a knight that’s all that matters.”
Tirek didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get anywhere. Rather, the monster reveled in destruction, flattening trees and hills and carving into mountains with strange magic. Some ruler this monster would turn out to be.
“It’s so big.” Yuna sounded almost awed. “Will human weapons succeed where the ponies failed?”
Leo stopped running. Wings on his back deployed, fixed lengths of steel with an ionic accelerator engine mounted near his back. The heat would’ve been unbearable for an organic even through the armor, which was why neither of his knights had them. Leo’s legs were not organic, though.
Blue fire sprung to life behind him, so faint it was almost invisible. Even so, the ground beneath him turned black, and the undergrowth caught fire immediately. Sir Tullius Leonidas took off into the air, a roaring invisible comet. “We will succeed,” he assured over the radio, unaffected by the acceleration. “Even the bravest ponies surrendered in the end. No Knight of the Tower has ever lost a battle.”
“For the king!” his new knights shouted in unison, then charged. Leo could not see them through the trees, despite his high vantage. He could see the transceivers of their network nodes, charging towards the monster. They didn’t plan on using swords. Leo reached behind him, patting the pouch and making sure the device inside was still secure.
The device didn’t have any sort of digital interface. There was no network connection either, just power. Power filled his reserve in a constant stream, such that even the fantastic draw of the ionization engines did not seem to be draining it. How much would it take to sap the strength of the magical reactor?
Tirek stopped its massive steps, slowing and then stopping beside a towering mountain. There were no signs of life anywhere nearby, no ponies or villages or pegasi in the sky. No cloud cities. This was very fortunate, as Leo would have had no choice but to sacrifice them if fighting came now. It was better for a few to die than a nation.
It seemed to be scanning the sky, perhaps searching for the pegasus brave enough to make such a roar. Ionization engines were not quiet, nor was their heat hard to find for those who searched for it. That was why stealth drones still used props.
Leonidas crested three kilometers, arcing slowly forward towards Tirek.
Yuna’s voice came over the radio in a shout. “Firing now!” The air began to buzz with energy, and he caught a faint flicker of light from somewhere in the trees. Yuna’s armor had a 120mm main gun that ran down its entire length, with such high energy demands she couldn’t even move while it was in use.
Even with electronic eyes Leo saw nothing as the first projectile tore through the air. He did hear the scream of fury, and saw an explosion of flesh and blood from the monster’s unprotected belly.
In the time it took Tirek to turn towards the source of the assault, several more wounds had been torn in his body. “I’m out!” Yuna’s voice called, along with the flashes of small-arms fire. These didn’t seem to scratch the great monster, little gouts of charged plasma that would’ve fried a living human or an android but couldn’t touch something so large.
Even the huge wounds on his underbelly seemed more of an annoyance to him, and the flow of blood was already starting to slow.
Tirek laughed. In that sound asteroids collided, planets crumbled to dust, and hope died. “You aren’t even a pony!”
“God I think he can see me I think he can see me!”
Leo did not fire—his own rifle had only a few shots capable of damaging the creature, and he would need them. “Duke, can you distract it? Yuna needs you!”
“On it!” An ear-splitting crack cut the air as a hypersonic sniper round took the monster in the head. He reeled, clutching at it and roaring again.
The sound was so loud Leo’s eyes probably would’ve watered from it, if he were capable of that reflex anymore. As it was he put on a little more thrust, maintaining an altitude out of Tirek’s reach. Well… for now, anyway. He had seen the monster fly. If it suspected him before Leo was ready, the fight would turn sour in a hurry.
Tirek rocked back again with another shot, blood spraying from an exit wound on the monster’s other side.
“I’m gone!” Yuna called, her dot moving again. “Pull back, Duke! I think you’re just pissing it off!”
Tirek’s roar turned into a burning yellow glow of magic, which registered on Leo’s sensors as radiation across the EM band, radiation to fry humans and cockroaches and anything in-between. “Yuna, go left! He’s aiming right—”
Leo took aim with his rifle, no longer caring about the the plan and how carefully they had prepared, but he wasn’t fast enough. Black fire burned from a dark star between the monster’s horns, scorching a huge swathe that swallowed Yuna and the forest all around her in all directions.
“YUNA!” Her node winked out—no damage notifications, no status updates, just gone. There was no sign of her on the ground, just blackened and charred forest. “Duke, get out of here! Get behind that big hill…”
Duke’s dot was moving, but far too slowly. For all the bleeding this monster did, it didn’t seem to be making much difference. As massive as it was, Leo couldn’t even know if they had caused it any permanent injury. It might be conventional weapons were all but useless against a foe so large and magical as this.
“Another one!” Tirek boomed, his voice shaking the trees all around him. “You waste your lives! Even your mightiest weapons are nothing to me now! This is power!”
“Duke, get down!” Black fire scorched the earth again, tearing the trees from the earth and throwing stones and boulders before it.
The new knight screamed as he died, his voice lasting only a second before the signal cut and his node vanished from the network.
“Now we can talk, wizard.” Tirek turned again, until he was facing Leonidas directly. His eyes didn’t seem to be focusing on any one point, though Leo knew the engines on his suit were quite loud. “Your pets amused me, but did you really think they had a chance?” He reached up, holding one hand to the little wound on his head. It closed before Leo’s eyes, new flesh sealing the old. Only a few splotches of blood remained to mark the injury.
“You fight with cunning, I respect that.” The creature folded its arms. “You cannot possibly defeat me. Surrender your magic to me willingly, and I will let you live.”
I guess that’s it, then. Leonidas disabled the active camouflage on his armor, flickering to life in the air about half a kilometer away from Tirek’s bulk. He turned his speakers up all the way, shouting for him. “Very well, Lord Tirek! I bow before your superior strength!” He put up his hands, flying slowly towards him. He didn’t move very fast, making it obvious he intended no hostility.
I’m sorry, My King. I hope your Technocrat can give you a friend where I failed.
“Good.” Tirek smiled, watching him. “Equestria’s ponies would not have suffered so if they had your wisdom.” Black eyes larger than he was watched as he approached, following his path through the air. If Tirek thought anything unusual about his armor or the way he flew, he didn’t say.
Leonidas didn’t want to fly any lower—the airburst would be most effective if he was in the air. He stopped just out of Tirek’s reach, holding himself steady at about the monster’s head level. “My magic is yours!”
Tirek grinned, opening his mouth wide. Bright yellow glowed from between his horns again, and Leo feared for a moment his plan was discovered and he was going to be destroyed.
Apparently not. Instead of being wiped away in a blast of black fire, his whole body went rigid, limbs spreading to their full length as Tirek gripped him. He didn’t see anything exactly, since of course he had no sensors that could observe magic. But magic seemed to be gripping him hard enough that some of his armor whined and protested.
“Such power!” Leo found the reserves in his suit stopped filling, and that the still-burning engines were drawing power from the armor again. Before him, Tirek seemed to be surging with energy, his whole body shaking as though he were going to get even bigger. “What manner of spell is this?”
God no. Don’t let this make him stronger, please! Leo found the telekinetic grip wasn’t really focusing on him anymore, or at least not on his arms. He reached back with grinding effort, tearing the satchel from the back of his armor.
Light poured from within, light brighter than the sun. His armor started to flash with radiation and heat-damage warnings. Even as he watched, the satchel melted away, synthetic fabric destroyed in the heat of an artificial star.
The metal leaves were gone too, melted away to nothing. Leo clutched only at the sphere beneath, a sphere of hyperstable exotic matter.
“So much power!” Tirek roared in triumph, apparently oblivious to what was happening before his eyes. The monster was growing again.
Tullius Leonidas couldn’t tell. Most of the sensors in his armor had been fried, the metal glowing bright white around the reactor. His hands were melted, and the rest of him would soon follow. He couldn’t move anymore, and only Tirek’s magic kept the reactor from tumbling to earth.
Twilight slammed the massive doors shut with all her strength, setting the whole mass to angry rattling against their metal mountings. The Castle of the Two Sisters seemed as good a place as any to live out the end of the world. She wouldn’t have her apprentice, but Spike was here, and her friends had relatives here too.
“There. The old wards should still be intact. We should be safe here.” Somewhere in the distance, she could hear tiny voices coming from the library. The Crusaders, such as they were, did not seem in any better spirits than they were.
Discord slunk into a corner, moving without any of his usual energy. She had saved his life as part of the same deal that had sacrificed all the Alicorn magic, but that didn’t erase the shame. If there was going to be any life with Tirek as Equestria’s new ruler, then she had a feeling Discord had plenty of soul-searching ahead of him.
Her friends barely had the strength to make it inside before they sprawled out, dropping to the stone with defeat written all over their bodies. Even this little trek had been a monumental effort for them, spurred on only by the promise of friendly faces at the end.
Twilight felt the old adage confirmed with horrible accuracy: without magic, life was impossible. Yet still they existed, as though their bodies didn’t know they shouldn’t keep working. Maybe it would be better if death came quickly. Not before I see Chance again. I’ve got to… apologize for losing her. Then I can die.”
“Uh, Twilight?” Rainbow Dash was near a window, and was the only one still standing. She gestured, the movement weak compared to her usual. Fluttershy nuzzled to one of her sides, shivering incoherently against the cold of magic stolen. “I think you should take a look at this.”
Twilight couldn't really “hurry” anymore, but she did make her way to the window, fighting the slur that threatened to overtake her voice. “Yeah, Dash?” Without even realizing it, she rested her head gently atop the prismatic pegasus’s. She could barely even keep her eyes open. “What… What is it?”
“I saw something over the trees,” Rainbow supplied, her voice drained. She gestured with a hoof, sliding vainly down the glass. “O-over… Over there…”
Twilight Sparkle looked up. It was a strain to force her eyes to focus, but strain she did. Maybe it was the pale mare, coming to take them all away. Twilight hadn’t ever believed in any religious superstition before, but… she had seen stranger things in the last few days.
It wasn’t the pale mare. Instead she saw a distant flash, far away beyond the trees. It wasn’t magic—Twilight knew she wouldn’t be able to sense that anymore. But it was bright, bright enough that she shoved abruptly on the pegasus. The two of them went tumbling, crashing into Fluttershy and curling into a mess of squeaking pony and protesting limbs.
“Watch it, Egghead! What did you—”
She remembered Leo’s words. “Shut your eyes, everypony!”
Her voice was drowned in a distant roar. The whole castle shook, masonry all around the great entrance hall dislodging and crumbling to the floor. Her friends screamed, but Twilight didn’t have the magic to shield them.
She didn’t hear anything striking a pony, so it didn’t seem like anything had.
Light burned in through the windows, light brighter than any noonday sun. She could feel it even through the wards, which came up in a glowing bubble around the castle. It was even bright through her eyelids.
Though the glass of the nearby window rumbled in its mounting, it seemed the wards prevented it from being blown out.
Twilight got to her hooves, still shaking unsteadily from the strange force. She looked out, out into the forest in the direction Leo had gone.
An angry red cloud rose into the sky, towering higher and higher and still burning with internal light. The clouds all around it had been burned from existence, as it loomed over the mountains like a stretched fungus.
“Celestia help us,” Rarity whispered, watching from beside her. Several of Twilight’s friends had clambered to their hooves all around her, energized by the shock and the fire. None looked hurt. “He means to destroy all Equestria.”
“No, I—” The words died in Twilight’s throat, and she watched the strange cloud get torn apart with more light. Light in every color, every shade, every hue. Light like a million little rainbows all shining in different directions. It shot straight up into the sky, taller than the first cloud, so high her eyes couldn’t even follow it… before it started to split, curving back to earth as it lanced out across the sky in all directions.
“Can’t he leave well enough alone? He’s gotta know he won by now!” Applejack stomped one hoof in frustration, though without her magic she didn’t break the stone.
“I… I don’t think Tirek did that.” Twilight’s eyes tracked one of the seemingly infinite slivers of light as it rocketed towards them. It had several distinct hues, though one seemed to shine brighter to her eyes than all the others combined. Lavender.
Another second, and the magic reached them. The wards could offer no defense against this attack, for of course it was no attack at all. Magic found its owner, slamming into each one and driving them to the ground.
Twilight screamed. She hadn’t been without her magic for more than an hour, but that time had felt like an eternity. The agony had not seemed like it would ever end.
She felt it now, surging into her body, a quiet warmth like stepping inside after a day in the snow. It was the soreness all over easing, the breath coming smoothly into her lungs. It was the satisfaction of work well done, the contentment of a long day with an old friend.
Light faded from the window, leaving only a few flickers of distant clouds.
Thus the reign of Tirek ended.
* * *
“Chance?” Second Chance sat in something like consciousness, resting against the steel and plastic of the cot. Somewhere she knew that she should rest, that her body was already full of drugs and that staying up wasn’t helping. She was too tired to sleep, too drained.
The dogs were all gone, though she hadn’t watched to see what had made them leave. She didn’t have the energy anymore. For as evil as Brigid’s takeover had been, she was probably right about the death waiting for Chance.
The machines did something to the back of her head. Truth tried to explain it through the connection, but she couldn’t stay coherent enough to listen. Eventually his voice stopped coming, leaving Second Chance to stare off at the wall alone.
I bet there are worse ways to die, she found herself thinking, staring up at something on the ceiling. Truth was doing something about something important up there, but she couldn’t remember what.
It didn’t matter—Chance remembered she had won, and that Equestria had been protected. Maybe she had been sent for another reason, but that seemed as good as any under the circumstances. The sun moved slowly across the sky, which seemed strange but she didn’t remember why. A few ponies tried to come and visit her, but her tongue was dry and their words seemed stretched and unimportant. She didn’t respond, and eventually they all went away.
Something changed. Chance couldn’t have said what it was, except that it didn’t feel so cold anymore. The warmth was so good, so relaxing, that she found herself curling up and closing her eyes. It didn’t even take her ten seconds to fall asleep.
Second Chance was on the Moon. The Earth was high tonight, shining blue and green against the stark depths. It felt good to sit on her rock in the sand, levitating one rock after another and throwing them across the void.
She never got anywhere close to the distant lander, its shape clearly visible despite the enormous distance. Without an atmosphere to decrease visibility, Second Chance could see for far indeed along the surface.
She found herself humming, humming the words to a little Equestrian melody Twilight had sometimes sung when the nightmares woke Chance with terrified screams. She hardly even noticed when a stone she hadn’t thrown soared right over the edge and skidded onto the ground beyond, sending a plume of gray smoke up around it.
“Hi.” She didn’t look beside her. Second Chance knew who would be there without needing to.
“Hi.” The word sounded strange coming from Luna. When she spoke, it was not her usual calm, parental affection. Second Chance wasn’t sure she could tell quite what the Lunar Princess was feeling.
Chance stared out over the empty gray soil. “I’m glad you’re okay.” It was hard to keep the fear from her own voice, but she managed.
Not that it would make a difference. The Princess of Dreams couldn’t be deceived within her own domain. “Thank you, filly.” Chance expected something formal, maybe thanking her for her role in saving Canterlot.
Instead Luna’s voice was distant and hurt. “Did you know he was going to sacrifice himself?”
It took a moment for Chance to guess at who “he” might be. The pronoun was her only clue, since so few of Equestria’s big players were male. One of these days she would ask about that, but not today. “You mean the knight?”
Chance turned, and saw darkness in Luna’s mane. There were very few stars there, a mass of blue and black. Her eyes were red, like she had recently been crying. How long had Chance been asleep?
“Sir Tullius Leonidas,” Luna confirmed. “I told you about him once, if I recall.” She shook her head, sitting down on the sand beside her and staring out over the crater. “Did you know he was going to kill himself?”
She shivered. “I… suspected,” she eventually admitted. “He left with a bomb on his back. I wonder if he would’ve needed it if that stupid Technocrat hadn’t insisted on conquering Canterlot. All that hardware might’ve been able to stop Tirek on its own.”
Luna sighed. Chance could hear a few more pained sounds coming from the princess, but she didn’t interfere. For once, she fought the pony instincts to comfort. Well, physically anyway.
“I heard stories about knights when I was growing up.” She spoke quietly, almost casually. “He reminded me of some of them. It was silly stuff—there was this one about a knight who promised to deliver a message for an old woman at a train station… but her son hadn’t come. The knight went and searched the whole city, knocking on every door until he found the old woman’s son and delivered the message.” She shook her head. “Exaggerated virtue stories. Seeing him… I wonder if not all of them were tall tales.”
Luna didn’t respond, not for several long moments. Eventually she smiled, patting Chance’s shoulder. “I suspect you’re right. If anypony would find a way to give their life for Equestria twice, it would’ve been him.”
“How do you know?” Chance got up from her rock, walking past Luna to the edge of the crater. It was a very long fall, though she wasn’t too worried. Within a dream, it was easy to change the rules if she needed to. In here, she could just as easily have wings if she wanted them. “Weren’t you locked up in that changeling… pod?”
Luna nodded, and a shiver briefly passed through her elegant body. “Princess Twilight reported her conversation with him upon her return to Canterlot. She saw some part of the battle, or at least the aftermath. There is no doubt in our minds that Leo could not have survived. Any attack that destroyed Tirek thoroughly enough to free the magic he stole would by necessity have destroyed anything else nearby. There is…”
She gestured, and the scene in front of them changed. Second Chance’s eyes went wide as she saw a massive crater, charred black with a few scraggly trees and half-melted rocks around the perimeter. For many miles further the trees had been scorched and blackened, their leaves burned away.
Dream it might be, but Second Chance found her heartbeat suddenly racing, breathing accelerating. She retreated from the vision, shaking her head vigorously. “Make it go away!”
She did. The crater vanished, along with any sign of the Equestrian landscape. Chance was still panting, and still looked a little sick as she looked up. “That whole area has probably been irradiated, Princess. We’ll have to investigate the wind patterns, see what the climate was doing.”
“Nothing.” Luna’s voice was matter-of-fact, though there was more than a little bitterness in her eyes. “Equestria requires its ponies to function. There was no wind.” She rested a wing on Chance’s shoulder. “Relax, young filly. Equestria may be somewhat ignorant on the subject, but its rulers aren’t. We’ve already dispatched crews. The magic of the area has been irreparably damaged, but… the climate can be repaired.”
Chance frowned down at the ground. “Bet Twilight’s feeling pretty messed up about it. What’s she been up to all this time, anyway? I looked for her when I was in Ponyville, but she had already gone.”
“Twilight Sparkle was given the solemn duty of containing the Alicorn magic of Equestria. She… was not successful. Were it not for Leo…” Luna shivered. “No matter. Leo succeeded, and so Equestria survives.”
“Is she…” Chance gestured with one hoof. “Is she around? I think I should see her.”
Luna nodded again. “I have no doubt of it, filly. She took you to her customary wing of the castle and has not left. Your body was… damaged. My elder sister healed you. Even so… you will be weak for some days to come. Live carefully in these next few days, unless you wish to be a spirit again sooner than you planned.”
“I’ll try.” Chance wasn’t sure how to wake up—maybe Luna had taught her that at some point, but she didn’t remember. Even in dreams she was worn out from the last few days, near the end of her energy.
It was time to go back to the library and spend a few weeks in quiet recovery. Chance could almost picture her little bedroom now, and that tiny bunk bed she shared with Spike. She missed the wood, missed the comic books he always forgot to clean up, missed the smell of books.
“Can you, uh… Can you wake me up?” Chance blushed. “I mean… if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“I can.” Luna met her eyes, and there was something pained in that expression. “I have no doubt my elder sister will formally recognize the service you and your friends did for Equestria. From me, though…”
She reached out, resting one leg on Chance’s shoulder. “Thank you. We are fortunate to have such true citizens.”
“Sure.” Chance blinked her tears away as best she could. “It was… the least I could’ve done. Sweetie too, I’m sure.”
“It’s more than most.” Luna was not smiling as she spoke. “If you or any of your friends decide to join the Guard when you’re older… they’d be lucky to have you.”
Chance didn’t get to answer. The dream faded. It wasn’t the harsh cut, not what happened when she woke from a nightmare. The transition was far more gradual, her body fading to a numbness that spread to every limb.
She felt soft blankets all around her, only a few inches away from her face. She slid up a little, looking around the room. Her body was sore, worse than the day of the obstacle course at school when she had spent the whole day running. The only pain came from the back of her head, where something thick was wrapped at the base of her neck. Bandages?
The room was dark, though not too dark to see. Chance had been here before, during one of Twilight’s previous trips. The room ended with a huge balcony, and the doors were open. Cool air came in from outside, and Twilight Sparkle sat under the stars.
She looked far worse than Chance felt, even from a distance. Nothing physically was wrong with her, but even so Chance could see a pony crushed. Crushed by guilt, and pain, and who knew what else.
Second Chance rolled out of bed, landing on her hooves. A few inches to the other direction, and she would’ve landed on Spike’s basket. The dragon moaned, muttering something incoherent and pulling a pillow closer to himself.
Chance smiled briefly at him, but didn’t wake him. No doubt the reptile’s day had been as stressful in its own way as her own. Twilight didn’t notice her waking, didn’t notice until she pushed the doors open.
“Chance?” The Alicorn looked up from her brooding, eyes wide. “You shouldn’t be out of bed!” She hurried over, and any further objections she might’ve had were lost in an embrace.
“Good to see you too, Mom.” Chance hugged her back, though with such a tight grip she could start to feel a little more of the pain. She would have to see just how much liver damage the Nanophage’s magic treatment had actually done. Not tonight, though. She’d had enough depressing news for one day.
She couldn’t have said how long the hug lasted. Eventually Twilight let her go, looking down at her with poorly restrained tears. “I’m so sorry, Chance.”
“Sorry?” She tilted her head to one side. “Why would you—”
“When you came to Equestria, Princess Celestia assigned me to keep you safe. I failed again. Not only that, but… I failed in the worst way possible. You… No filly should ever experience what you went through.”
Chance didn’t look away. She could see pain in Twilight, and a recognition. “You did. Lyra did. Probably… the rest of your friends too, I bet.” She smiled weakly. “Don’t worry about me. I’d only had magic a year when I lost it. Not my whole life.”
“Maybe not.” Twilight pulled her close. “I wish I knew why the changelings were so determined to get to you. Did you hunt them when you were still human?”
She shook her head. “They dumped me with everypony else… I think it’s what they wanted from you, Twilight.” She couldn’t help but look a little worried as she forced Twilight to meet her eyes again. “Did they impersonate me? That’s what they did to your brother, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Twilight looked even worse than she had before. “Of course that’s my fault too. Might as well write that one down on the list.” Something levitated over from nearby—a scroll and a pen. As it unrolled, she caught the title “Things Twilight Ruined” It was a nice long list.
“Wait!” Chance reached out, trying to put a hoof in front of Twilight’s horn. It didn’t really make a difference: it wasn’t as though levitation required line-of-slight. Still felt good to do something, though. “I’m not sure that’s really fair.”
“Why not?” Twilight’s pen stopped, freezing in the air. “You’re absolutely right about their plan being about me. Another reason you’d be safer with another teacher.”
“What?” It was Chance’s turn to cry. “Twilight d-don’t… don’t… s-say things like that.” All her strength melted, all the maturity and confidence she thought she had.
“I think I understand why the princesses are so reluctant to have foals of their own, now. It’s too dangerous… I don’t think it’s a life we’re meant to share.”
“No.” Chance sniffed, then glared as fiercely as she could. “You listen to me, Mom. It isn’t your fault that bad things happen. Not even Celestia has the power to stop bad things from happening to everybody. Back on Earth, I watched my family fucking die right in front of me. That doesn’t mean they didn’t love me either, or that I shouldn’t have been with them.” Chance couldn’t have said how she was still going. She was crying so hard that the words probably weren’t very clear.
“I’m sure you did your best—I know you’ve done your best for Spike and me, cuz I’ve seen it! I don’t know how I could’ve faced Equestria without you before n-now, and I don’t wanna f-f-find out!”
She couldn’t keep going. Chance was pretty sure she had more to say, but she couldn’t even keep thinking straight anymore. The whole world blurred, into lavender feathers and warm coat.
“Yeah.” Twilight mussed her mane. “I think you’re right. I wasn’t…” She shook her head. “You did good, my little filly. I’m proud of you.”
“Like I did anything.” Chance found herself smiling in spite of herself. “How many ponies have a mom who took all the Alicorn magic in the world and fought a monster.” She glanced briefly away from her, up at the moon. It was waning now, half moon and shrinking towards a crescent. “When I was… I knew Celestia and Luna had been captured, and I saw the sun and moon kept working… guess that was you.” She sat back on her haunches, looking contemplative. “What was it like to move the sun?”
Twilight relaxed too, and for a second it seemed almost as though she might answer. Then she shook her head, gesturing back in towards the bed. “Not now, Chance. I’m sure we will have a fascinating conversation about it after you’ve had a full night’s rest.”
“But… But Luna woke me up!” She grinned hopefully. “That means that the Princess of the Night decided I was done sleeping! You can tell me now!”
“You want to walk down to the night court and ask her?” Twilight asked, gesturing off the balcony. Far, far below, there were lights from the throne room windows. “If you really think that’s what she meant…”
“Uh…” Chance frowned down at the floor, defeated. “Can… Can you come with me? I don’t think… I don’t think I wanna be alone tonight.”
“Alright.” The huge doors levitated open with a faint shimmer from her horn. “That sounds fair to me.”
* * *
Amber Sands stared at the rough stone walls, letting her boredom wash over her. Any trace of her Second Chance disguise was long gone now, either taken away by the ponies or abandoned to help her save magic.
There were no visitors. No guards marched in the hallways outside, and no other prisoners. Guards slid in a tray of hay and water every few hours, and took them away again with the water gone but hay untouched.
Her cell wasn’t much, about twenty square feet of plain stone. There was a toilet in one corner, and a raised stone cot in the other. No blankets, no loose objects of any kind except the food trays.
Amber could eat hay if she wanted, as she could eat almost anything organic. It wouldn’t sustain her, though. As the hours and days passed, she felt herself growing weaker. The pony princess had filled her stockpile, but even a young queen could not keep living off her reserves forever.
The torturers will come for you soon, she kept telling herself. They’ll want to know everything else you learned about the hive. Is that their hooves coming for me now?
There had been no torturers in the whole time she had been in captivity, unless she counted a few heavy chains and the chattering of Chance’s pony friends. Maybe not. Maybe they’ll just let me starve. She wasn’t starving yet, she was fairly sure of that. Amber could still think.
Hunger drives fear, child, her mother had explained. Passion comes from anger, and rational thoughts become difficult. By the time you’re truly starving, you won’t be aware enough to question whether or not you are.
Amber Sands had told the pony princess the location of a secret fortress her kind had built into a pony city. How many drones had died defending it from her? If her mother’s master plan failed because she didn’t kill the pony, would that make the consequences for her people her fault?
It doesn’t matter. The one peace Amber had now was the memory. The guilt no longer tormented her, assaulting her with assertions that she didn’t deserve life and the ponies were right to hate her. A virtuous man has no fear of death.
Amber didn’t want to die. She begged and whimpered when the guards came to deliver her food, always in vain. She hadn’t managed to convince any of them yet, anyway.
She hadn’t been hallucinating about the hoofsteps she heard. Amber looked up from her cot, and almost didn’t believe what she saw.
There was no food delivery on the other end of the bars, none of the familiar pony guards with their gold armor and pointed spears. The pony waiting beyond had no armor, though Amber doubted very much she needed it.
“Hello, prisoner.” Gold magic glowed around the lock, bright enough that it lit the whole cell. Amber had no problem with darkness and hadn’t really minded that the cell lacked light, but after this long even a changeling could be relieved.
Amber didn’t bother trying to escape as the visitor stepped into an open doorway. Instead she struggled to her hooves beside the cot, straightening her wings and looking as confident as she could. No defiance or rebellion, but no guilt either.
You did the right thing, Chance’s voice whispered. Don’t be afraid.
Her memories of home told Amber another story. Princess Celestia was perhaps the most powerful being in the world. She was the most ancient, most hated enemy of their race, and Amber had never known why. Something to do with where the first changeling had come from, though she hadn’t ever been told that story.
The Dirarch of the Sun hardly looked as fearful as the stories. As she looked down on Amber, there was no disgust or revulsion clouding the air with rancid rotten flavors. Even kind ponies like Twilight had felt a little of that, however much they might try to hide it.
Celestia felt only compassion. For the first time since her confinement, Amber ate. She wouldn’t have thought much of it during her previous life, but after days in the dark even a few sips of love felt like a feast.
“Do you know me?”
Amber nodded.
“Then I am at a disadvantage.” She sat down on her haunches, blasting the filth away from the ground around her in a little wave of golden magic. The princess didn’t seem to need to light her horn to glow—her whole body did that. Well, maybe not glow exactly. The space she stood in seemed lit, without a specific source. “What’s your name? Changelings do have names, do they not?”
Was that secret information? Probably not. “Some of us do. I’m Amber Sands.”
Celestia smiled slightly. “It’s good to meet you, Amber Sands.” She said nothing then, letting the silence stretch on and on.
Eventually Amber couldn’t take the quiet anymore, and she looked up with growing exasperation. “Why did you come, Princess? If you’re here to turn me to stone, well… at least warn me. If I’m gonna be frozen forever, I might as well try and capture my good wing.” She lifted one of them a little higher than the other, the one without any holes.
Amber felt Celestia’s compassion swell, along with a heady mixture of pity and regret. This was more what she had expected from a princess, an overwhelming torrent of power compared to regular ponies. A few seconds was enough to fill her, and any more was more than she could take. It felt like she would explode, but that wasn’t quite how it worked.
“Relax, young Amber. By my royal decree, your sentence has been remitted.” She gestured at the doorway with one wing, stepping out of the way. “You are free to go. If that’s what you want.”
There was a time when Amber might’ve sprinted right for the door, wings buzzing. Thanks to her mother’s careful tutelage, she was no longer that gullible. Instead she stopped, eyes narrowing. “Really? Even though I… impersonated one of your citizens? Helped her get kidnapped… helped with an invasion…”
Celestia cut her off. “Your evil acts are not excused, nor are they justified. Your behavior was reprehensible, in keeping with many of your kind I have encountered before.” She spread her wings a little. “You have a choice now, Amber Sands.”
Amber walked forward and sideways, closer to the doorway but keeping her distance from Celestia. She could make a break for it now, if she wanted. With love in her belly and magic burning through her veins, she no longer felt weak and apathetic. “What choice?”
“The same one I gave your mother.” Celestia’s sadness replaced the pity. She didn’t move, didn’t make any gesture to stop Amber from running. She did follow her with her eyes, though. “Most creatures are defined by their past. They keep living the way they always have, even though they know they could be more.”
Celestia reached out, gesturing at the doorway. “If you run, my guards have been ordered not to stop you. They’ll escort you out Canterlot’s walls, and will not follow. This is for your protection—I cannot be certain you would be safe in Canterlot after recent events.”
“You could leave, and go back to whatever life you were living. Find the rest of your hive, and maybe you’ll be happy there.” Celestia pulled her hoof back, offering it to Amber. “Or you could stay. Not as a prisoner, but as a member of my house.”
“You chose to spare the life of somepony very important to me. You helped her undo damage your family did to Equestria.” She leaned a little closer, and the light seemed to grow more intense. Amber felt the warmth, filling the space and shining out through the open doorway. “I see a pony unsatisfied with the life she would be returning to. Please, stay with us instead.”
Amber looked between the offered hoof and the doorway. She had already failed her mission. She had betrayed her mother’s wishes, and been unwilling to kill the princess. Even if she wasn’t killed for her betrayal, she would be an outcast for the rest of her life. She would never have a hive of her own.
What did Celestia offer instead? Everything you ever wanted.
Brigid Curie did not cower as she was brought out before Equestria’s ruling princesses. She had to walk quickly to keep pace with the guards, or else find herself dragged along the floor behind them.
It was all pony guards now—Brigid didn’t even know what had happened to her dogs, didn’t know what had happened to Leo or his other two “squires.” She could only hope he hadn’t tried to come back onto the network after his misadventure, or else face the same fate she had. Brigid did not resent the old knight, not for this. It wasn’t as though his help would’ve done her any good against a hacker and an OMICRON core.
Brigid had been close. She had subdued one city without losing hardly a man, and had the gratitude of the ponies there. Few who weren’t in the castle had any idea she had claimed the city for herself. No doubt the story would be out now, and all her dogs would be in chains just like her’s.
It spoke to the natives’ respect for her that they had taken as many precautions as they had. She had been stripped and searched carefully, before being dressed in plain cloth and had chains locked around wrists and ankles. No organic child could’ve lifted such a weight. As it was, the motors in this civilian body could barely keep up. They whined and clicked with plasticy sounds when she moved too fast, a sure sign of the low quality of this body.
Too bad I didn’t make something nicer for the native. I might not have to die in such a crappy body. It didn’t matter what the natives judged—her body would run out of power eventually. No doubt the Federation hacker had destroyed all her machinery by now. After what she had done, she doubted very much that the Federation people would be making her a charger.
At least I don’t have to face Richard. She found herself smiling as she stared at the floor. He might’ve deleted me for this. At least this way there’s a chance somebody will find this old body, a few generations from now. Maybe I’ll be able to escape then. It wasn’t as though running out of power would kill her, not permanently. Power and repairs could bring her back online as surely as they had restored Leo from his death. A thousand years could not rot the polymers and alloys used even by the cheapest bodies.
The throne room looked much better than it had during her tour. Several of the windows were still broken as she passed, filled over with boards instead of the elegant worked glass. All the rubble had been cleared away, along with the slime changelings seemed to like to smear everywhere. There were still signs of the occupation—soldier ponies lined all the walls, all armored and watching her with dark eyes.
She saw no other prisoners, no dogs lined up in chains or blood from executions. At least there was some hope for some of them, then. Brigid would have felt far worse to know she had led the soldiers of the Great Pack to their deaths. They might’ve been organics, but they were her organics!
The guards stopped before a throne so large it filled the end of the room. Even if Bree’s head was equal with the guards, it wouldn’t have even met the eyes of these massive ponies.
There were two of them upon the throne, and any resemblance to the feeble natives trapped in their pods was long gone. She supposed it was a good thing she hadn’t planned on releasing them, if this was going to be the result. Bree’s body had no magical sensors, but even so she could feel their presence, feel it by the way it burned in her chest and didn’t let her look away. Their manes didn’t look like flat slimey hair, but flowing curtains of light. Wisdom and light radiated from those eyes as real as any illusion she had ever crafted in the Imperium.
Guess I won’t be seeing that again either. I hope you caught those slavers, Charles. The guards glared at her, and the lead speaker barked, “Give proper respect to Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, Diarchs of Equestria.”
“I bow only to my king,” she responded, disabling her pain receptors in preparation for what she expected next. Even civilian bodies could do a few simple things. Not pull weapons out of her arms and fight her way to safety, or vanish behind active camouflage, but… she still had a few advantages. Her mind was still digital. The natives couldn’t take that away at least.
The guard looked like he was going to hit her, but a sound like someone clearing their throat stopped him. Instead he looked up, then lowered his head in a respectful bow. “Of course, Princess.” Instead of striking her, the guard took the chain and anchored it into an iron loop at the base of the throne, then turned and walked away. The soldiers in their primitive plate-mail followed behind him, leaving Brigid about thirty meters of clear ground around her. About the length of the chain. She probably could’ve made it all the way up to where the natives sat, if she thought it would’ve done any good.
Somehow, under these eyes, she wasn’t sure even a combat body like Leo’s would’ve made any difference.
The dark blue princess rose to her hooves, leaping down from the throne to stand at the base. She watched Brigid with harsh eyes, taking in her every detail. She did not seem the least bit intimidated by her strangeness, or even confused. This pony knew humans. “Your name is Brigid Curie, correct?”
She nodded. Brigid had sworn to secrecy, but… she also wasn’t a soldier. Engineers weren’t given training to resist torture.
“You freed Canterlot from changeling control. You drove our enemies out and made the city safe for ponies. Correct?”
Again, she nodded. Brigid did not look away from the towering pony, even as she advanced on her. She didn’t flinch or avoid her, holding herself still before her. If nothing else, Brigid would teach these natives of the courage of her kind. I’m not helpless. I’m not weak. This isn’t London.
“It’s a shame that isn’t all you did.” The other speaker came from higher up. Princess Celestia’s voice wasn’t nearly as harsh as Luna’s, though there was something almost as painful in it. Instead of anger, she sounded disappointed. Why did it hurt so much more to hear than Luna’s hostility?
“A great shame,” Luna agreed, though none of the softness of her words made it to her eyes. “The word of many witnesses declare you betrayed your promises and used your troops to seize control of Canterlot for yourself. You intended to subjugate all of Equestria in time. Correct?”
There was no sense in lying. Brigid did not see Second Chance here, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t around somewhere. The princesses would’ve heard from her by now. If not her, than any of the squires. Leo’s squires would not lie for her, even if they knew it would hurt their own cause. Knights were well known for their honesty. I wish you’d come to help me, Charles. I wouldn’t be here if you’d come. Charles was far too practical to fight a losing battle. If he had been with her when the hacker broke into her network, he would’ve severed their own nodes from the rest of the network and escaped. He didn’t need any remote assistance to be a good pilot.
But Charles hadn’t stopped her, and Brigid had fought on. She hadn’t been able to believe she could be hacked by a native from within the network. She hadn’t even bothered scanning her for the Nanophage before starting the procedure.
Brigid nodded again. “I did not intend to harm your ponies. I would’ve treated them fairly… given them more than you ever could. I still could: the Steel Tower can offer Equestria far more than our enemies.”
“Is that so? I assume you had absolutely nothing to do with the disappearance of the pony we had guarding relics from your world.” She snorted. “I think we’ve had enough of what the ‘Tower’ can offer Equestria if it has many ponies like you.” Princess Luna turned away, fluttering back up onto the throne. She didn’t even look back.
“I’m not a pony,” Brigid called up, stepping forward. She didn’t follow all the way, though she couldn’t have said if it was for fear of reprisal or just because she didn’t think it would do any good. “I’m a citizen of the Steel Tower. Its king will reward you handsomely for my return… or strike you down in rage if you harm me.”
“This king, were you acting at his orders?” Celestia’s voice remained as disappointed as before. There was nothing else there, just her cool eyes on her. She hadn’t moved from her seat.
Bree considered that a moment. Eventually she shook her head. Whatever else she might be, she was no traitor to the Tower. She had been following Tesla’s suggestions. That didn’t mean Richard would’ve been happy with her, though. “My King would have wanted me to help Equestria in its need. When he learns of what I’ve done, he will be furious.” Assuming any of her drones even survived to receive a message from him. Almost all of them had been made destructible, given Bree was working in an alien world and couldn’t be sure of the safety of her hardware. Most drones were made to detonate if they went off the network, to prevent them from falling into Federation hands.
“Well, at least she’s honest.” The new voice spoke from ground level, not high up on the throne. It was also male, and though it lacked much of the unearthly wisdom of the princesses, it lacked none of the power.
Bree turned, and looked up into the face of the strangest creature she had ever seen. It stood well over the height of a man, with brown fur on its torso and mismatched limbs. It had crooked horns and red eyes, eyes that looked her over with more concentration than the lackadaisical tone suggested. “Either that, or you’re a very good liar. You metal men never make it easy to tell.”
“Discord, there’s no need to lead her on.” Even so, Luna’s voice didn’t sound all that corrective. “Can you dispense her punishment or can’t you?”
The strange native stopped about a meter away from her. It looked down towards her with burning red eyes, then nodded. “I’ve done stranger magic.”
“Very well.” Princess Celestia rose to her hooves. All around the hall, the hushed mutters of conversations stilled to silence. The eyes of a hundred soldiers all fell on her, and she waited for this to complete before she started to speak. “Brigid Curie. You led hostile action against Equestria. You occupied her in a time of war, and your actions may’ve resulted in terrible consequences. You also saved her, and did not abuse the city you had taken. For that kindness, your punishment of banishment to Tartarus is stayed.”
Yeah right. Brigid found herself glaring up at the princess. Luna already knew this Discord creature was going to be the one punishing me. We both know that banishment never would’ve happened. Even so, the guards seemed to be satisfied by these words, as though the banishment had been what they expected. Evidently the fact it had still been considered was close enough to please them.
“We discussed your punishment with the ponies you hurt most, and considered how you might help repair some of the pain you caused. It is our verdict that you will be sentenced to life, effective immediately. Once the sentence is carried out, you will be transported to a remote village, where you can live out your life without causing any more trouble. Thus is my ruling—” She looked up, out at the crowd of soldiers that gathered just outside the reach of her chain, and packed the room all around. “Should anypony wish to speak against this ruling, this is her only opportunity.”
More silence. Celestia nodded. “Our judgement is rendered. May justice settle in balance.” She sat back down.
“I’m going to enjoy this.” The creature named Discord cracked the joints on its birdlike claw one at a time, loudly enough that Brigid could hear. “Ever since I saw your types in little Chance’s memories, I wondered.” He walked past her, standing between Brigid and the throne. “You probably don’t even remember what it’s like, do you?”
Brigid did not feel afraid. The natives had their supernatural powers, there was no denying it. She had seen objects float, and heard stories of ponies that could teleport short distances. The winged ones could fly and even make the weather change when they wanted. That did not translate into the impossible ability to make a fully synthetic human “alive.”
Of course, it was possible the creature would kill her. Magic could destroy easily enough. “Wait!” Brigid put up both her hands, glancing around the towering creature and up at the throne. It wasn’t that hard with as thin as it seemed to be. “Before you do this, there’s one thing I’ve got to know!” She didn’t wait to be interrupted, even though it looked like several of the natives wanted to. “There was another like me, human instead of dog. A knight named Tullius Leonidas. Has he returned yet? If he hasn’t fought to free me yet, I can only assume you captured him. Please don’t punish him the way you’re punishing me… he didn’t have anything to do with what I did!”
There was an awkward silence. Eventually Luna broke it, her voice coming in as a hoarse croak. “Leo… died. To save Equestria. Again.” Her eyes burned with anger as she looked up, and Bree didn’t need any magic to read what she was thinking. It should’ve been you.
It wasn’t as though Brigid could argue.
“Enough of that.” From beside her, the strange creature spoke again, his voice almost amused. “Time to wake up, little robot.” He reached out, with the glittering yellow fingers of a claw. Brigid could’ve struggled out of the way, but there wasn’t any point.
For the second time in her short life, Brigid felt magic. The colors of the throne bled together into a single mass of glittering metal. She stumbled sideways, and the few feet to the floor seemed to go on forever.
Brigid’s scream stretched and lengthened into a single cry no human mouth should’ve made. For the first time in many years, Brigid dreamed.
She couldn’t have said how long it took for her to wake. Dreams were a thing of living creatures, and in their manner there was no perfect record. Brigid saw huge fields of grass, swaying forever under a strange moon. It spoke kindly to her, though for some reason this didn’t encourage her. She couldn’t remember why.
Brightness woke her, brightness and a sense of motion beneath her. There were words somewhere nearby, but she couldn’t make them out. She could only hear metal and wood grinding together, jostling her uncomfortably with every bounce.
Bree felt stiff, and a little bit sweaty where she had been on the same surface for some length of time. I hate these real-world simulations…
“It’s just like I was telling you.” A familiar voice spoke from somewhere close, and she felt a prodding somewhere behind her. “She tries to take over canterlot, and she gets a cutie mark out of it.” Well, maybe not quite as familiar as she had expected. That voice had sounded obnoxiously high before. Now, though… it seemed ordinary. What had bothered her about her, again?
“Didn’t you get yours helping her?” That was another voice, a little harsher than the first and not the least bit familiar.
The first speaker sounded defensive. “We didn’t know she wasn’t telling the truth! Tell her, Chance!”
Second Chance’s voice didn’t sound as high pitched as the last time, either. Her tone was the same though, that half-English way she had of structuring her sentences. “We did liberate Canterlot. She just… kept it for herself after.”
Bree forced her eyes open. They weren’t responding as quickly as she expected. She tried to run a diagnostic on her body, but that didn’t respond either. “My dogs did that,” she croaked, the words sounding strange on her tongue. Her body was acting very strange: every request for the console was ignored, every debug request didn’t respond. There wasn’t a simulation in all Imperium that would’ve treated a Sage as high as herself with such disrespect.
With one eye open, Bree found herself looking up at a room clearly of native construction. Soft wood paneling with hearts and other cheerful shapes wrapped around everything, with a bright blue ceiling and gas lamps on the walls. “Oh God.” Bree rolled over, and found her body didn’t respond the way she expected. She made it to her belly, then a cascade of her bright orange hair fell into her eyes, blocking out everything.
“Hey, uh… are you up then?” This voice also wasn’t one of the natives Brigid knew, and she had a thicker accent than either of the others. “Cuz’ we’ve only got another hour before we get there. You’ll probably wanna get your questions answered before we drop you off.”
Brigid moaned in answer, covering her face with one of her arms. “Get me a systems administrator, I think this simulation is malfunctioning. I’m having nightmares of Equestria.”
Second Chance spoke from very close, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “Equestria wouldn’t be a nightmare if you treated it better.”
Why did she feel so exposed? Bree must’ve been wearing one of her lightest dresses. Maybe the ones made of clouds. “Organics are the nightmare. I don’t think I can handle being around them for awhile. Tell Richard I want… another few centuries back in Imperium…”
“Chance, what the hay is she talking about?” The voice was the harsh one, annoyed. “What did you say she looked like before, again?”
Pretending she wasn’t feeling what she felt and hearing what she heard wasn’t going to make them go away. Brigid opened her eyes again, then got to her feet.
Well, she tried. She rose to what felt like hands and knees, and tried to push off with her hands into a standing position. Numb stumps pressed on the ground, but only with the force to make her rear back a second. She started to fall again, the air rushing past her fearfully fast as she came back to earth.
Bree screeched, but she needn’t have worried. Hooves met soft green carpet without pain on her part.
It was an assault of strange sensations. Peach-colored fur obstructed much of the lower part of her face, with orange hair blocking some of the other side. Her hands and feet were unrecognizable now—all her limbs for that matter. Joints bent in ways she didn’t expect, and something swished about behind her. She wore no clothes to speak of, nothing but the peach-colored fur that grew darker on her underbelly.
There was little embarrassment, not when confronted with so many other strange sensations. Nothing was quite right. Her ears flicked about on her head, the colors on the train seemed too bright, and even the scale was all wrong. Instead of rising a full head higher, Brigid found herself meeting Second Chance’s eyes almost on the level. Sweetie Belle was a little smaller just behind her, and they weren’t the only ponies nearby.
There were two more, a yellow and red regular one and a winged orange one with purple mane. The space itself proved to be a little train-car, with empty bunks all around them. That explained the way the ground shook and the rattling coming from outside, anyway.
“They really did it.” She slumped to her haunches, eyes fixed on the ground. “Couldn’t even stop a few bugs from taking their city, but… they crossed the silicon barrier.” She looked up, searching for the one who knew so frighteningly much about natives and humans both. “How?”
“I’m glad you weren’t like this,” muttered the orange one. “We never would’ve got anything done.”
“I was like this at first. I got better.” She looked back to Brigid, resting a hoof on her shoulder.
Brigid wanted to scream, wanted to shove the stupid brick on the end of her stupid leg into the native’s stupid face. She found she couldn’t—the anger melted quickly into helpless fear. Tears came unbidden from her eyes, and no command would stop them.
The sympathy in the native’s face seemed real enough. Her eyes were still gray, but she didn’t look nearly so faded. There was a mark on her rear just like the others of her kind had, but Brigid didn’t look too closely.
“The princesses had given their magic away when the changelings invaded. Otherwise you wouldn’t have stood a chance.” She gestured out the window, at a sun somewhere in early afternoon. “They really do move that.”
Brigid tried to pull away, but the gesture nearly made her fall over. She whimpered, but one of the other natives caught her before she fell. “Aww… don’t try tah’ move too soon, now. You ain’t ready fer anythin’ too fast.”
She felt the hug before it started, but was powerless to get away. The yellow one embraced her, right along with the white and orange ones.
Each one smelled different, she realized that now. The white one had the softest coat, and a flowery smell. The orange one was like feathers, with only horse-sweat for an odor, and the yellow one smelled like fruit and had a coat like her own.
How did the natives keep track of all this? It was the new sensations of one of the more aggressively realistic simulations. Only the green one did not join in the hug, for which she was grateful. Somehow that wouldn’t have felt proper.
Maybe because she still remembered what she had said, as she took Brigid’s whole world away. Her name was Kimberly Colven, and she was some kind of Federation hacker. There was no doubting the validity of those claims in the face of so much evidence.
Anyway, what was the point? She had lost, been caught, and sentenced. Now she was… organic. She would need to eat again, need to sleep, and breathe, and… God, she was breathing right now!
Her crying got worse, breaking into hysterics that didn’t seem in a hurry to end. Brigid no longer cared about how she looked, didn’t fight to get her composure back. The last of Brigid’s dignity had fled when she had been shrunk down into a little horse body.
“Why did… Why did you come?” she found herself asking through the tears, even as the natives finally gave her space again. She was more than a little relieved to see them pull away. “Don’t you hate me?”
“Second Chance” did not look away under her anger. “I hate what you would’ve done to Equestria. The Federation would’ve found you a nice, cold asteroid to live out the rest of your existence…” From beside her, Bree saw Sweetie Belle look up and glare, enough that Chance’s words quickly relaxed. “Equestria’s a nicer place than Earth. Here, people get second chances. Even the really bad ones. My teacher thought… maybe I could learn some about forgiveness if I saw you off.” She looked down then, a little embarrassed.
Well, that was good. Brigid shouldn’t be the only one. “See me off,” she repeated, blinking away some of the tears. “I remember…” God, meat memory was terrible. She could only feel the knowledge, not see it perfectly as her electronic life had let her do. It was an approximation, and not even a terribly good one. “I’m being taken far away from Canterlot. To… live out the rest of my painfully short life in isolation?”
“Painfully short.” The orange one scoffed. “Says no earth pony ever.”
“She don’t know that!” The yellow one—Bree would have to learn their names at this rate—seemed suddenly defensive. “And no, not isolated. Princess Celestia wouldn’t do that, not unless you’d been really awful. What’d you say, Chance?”
Second Chance seemed to have recovered by then. “The princesses picked an extremely remote mining village—one so far out it only gets trains once a month or so, and nopony has electricity yet… Motherlode, I think.”
“Not that part!” The yellow one reached out, shoving her green friend on the shoulder. Like Brigid herself, she seemed slightly larger than the others, taller and broader. The difference was slight, but this close it was hard to miss. “The good part, not the scary part!”
“Oh.” Chance flicked her tail behind her in a way Bree couldn’t read, but seemed significant from the way the others nodded. “The princess picked out a nice family for you.” Something levitated from off a nearby bunk, a plain looking manilla folder. Chance dropped it onto the ground at her feet. It fell open, revealing a surprisingly clear photograph of a pale unicorn mare with a short mane and a thin hammer in front of her.
Brigid stared for a few seconds, expecting the strange symbols beneath to become suddenly clear to her… but the translation program never activated. She couldn’t read Equestrian anymore. Her head slumped almostly limply to the table, and she couldn’t keep herself from moaning. “I don’t need a foster parent… I’m a goddamn Sage of the Technocratic Order… I’m twenty-nine years old!” She stomped the wood in front of her with a wave of frustration, and was surprised to see a few splinters fly from around her hoof as she did. Guess they don’t build as sturdy as they look.
The natives only stared, watching her with expressions ranging between sympathy and discomfort. Brigid didn’t care. She looked back up again, glaring between each of them in turn. “Maybe I think the human way is better!” she yelled, her voice shrill and cracking with her tears. “At least if the Federation executed me, I’d die as myself! Not some stupid alien. This might even be worse than execution…”
“Shut up.” She felt a firm hoof near her shoulder again, and wasn’t surprised to see Chance looking at her. This close, she could see the pony had bandages on her neck, and smelled like lavender. Not that it made her words any softer. “Look, I get it. I know how much it sucks to be something else. How confusing it can be… but don’t give up just cuz’ it’s hard. You could’ve been a hero if you’d made different choices… but the choices you made made you a pony. Maybe instead of being angry you should make something of the opportunity.”
“It doesn’t matter if we had Equestria’s technology beat in every way. Probably whatever you did back on Earth doesn’t even exist here—I’ve been there too. Coming here taught me that those aren’t the only things that matter.” She let go of Bree’s shoulder, and instead touched herself to the shoulder of the white-furred unicorn. “Like friends. I think Equestria understands friends better than Earth ever did.”
Brigid wanted to say something rude, but in that moment the natives all embraced Chance in a far warmer way than they had with her. The genuine love these ponies shared was so intense she could practically feel it on her face, and the words died in her mouth. It was hard to mock something that seemed so wonderful.
Charles. She couldn’t call for him now, couldn’t go back to that stupid house on the beach with Sonja Halko and all the boring rules of reality. I never should’ve left. It was too late to second-guess that decision. It wasn’t as though she regretted her work with Equestria. Aside from maybe the one about not listening to the king…
The ground wasn’t moving as much. The sound of wheels as they went over each junction of track was fading too, and Brigid realized the train was slowing. The window was a little too high for her to get a clear view outside. Whatever else, at least the natives had kept her young. For now.
“Well, we’re almost there.” Chance levitated something else off the nearby bench, with magic as gray as her eyes. She seemed to use it effortlessly, as much as any native. It was a set of saddlebags, in soft brown fabric that looked almost like leather. Before she could protest, Chance slid the folder away inside it, and lifted them up onto her back. Brigid felt the strange weight there, surprisingly light for how full they had looked. “You may want to try walking a little—it’s not as hard as you expect, but you’re still gonna be tripping all over yourself at first. Oh, and there were Celestia’s instructions…”
She cleared her throat. “She’s going to be checking on you every year or so to see how you’re progressing. She expects you to stay with your new family until you’re ready to function out on your own in society. Once your mom releases you, you’re off probation and can go or do whatever any other pony could do.” She stopped, smiling in a way that was almost knowing. “Ponies don’t grow up nearly as fast as people do. Oh… and if you run off, she said she’d turn you to stone. So I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Like she’d really do that.” The orange pegasus sounded somewhere between amused and rueful.
“Have you even looked at how many pony statues there are in the Canterlot garden?”
Brigid didn’t see who had said that, and didn’t really care. She grunted, rising to her hooves again. She met Chance’s eyes, one last time, and the two of them stared for a few tense seconds.
Then she forced one hoof in front of the other, stumbling past her towards the open door to the hall. It was… time to learn to be a native, apparently.
“Well.” Second Chance looked over the wreckage with gradually watering eyes. Twilight had told her on the way that “the library wasn’t in good shape,” but she hadn’t expected this. It was as though the very hand of God had swept down and burned the building from Equis.
Gone were the solar panels, gone was her bedroom and the generator out back. The ground around their lot was still littered with books, with covers in various stages of decomposition.
Without a word exchanged, Chance leaned up against Twilight, with Spike doing the same from the other side. They stood alone on the street for a few seconds, sharing a few tears and a great deal of solidarity.
All around them, the rest of Ponyville was a little better off, though little of it was undamaged. The little town had been briefly occupied, after all. The sound of hammers and construction was all around them. Ponyville’s citizens had sympathetic glances for them, but… they were not the only ones to suffer this way.
“My brother—” From above her, Twilight sniffed, her body still tense. “He said he and Cadance—sorry, Princess Cadance. They’ve already sent some of the Crystal Empire’s best engineers.” She gestured vaguely towards the edge of town. “Already got a spot picked out. They said they were going to take this opportunity to build me a proper castle.”
Chance felt her shiver, and she looked up. “You don’t want them to?”
“I…” Twilight looked down, obviously forcing a smile. “I want the Golden Oak Library back. But an enchanted tree like this takes hundreds of years. Applejack’s grandmother planted this one actually, during Ponyville’s founding festival.” She sighed. “And there aren’t any spells to put it back together, either. I searched Canterlot’s entire library.”
Chance leaned briefly against her again. “Sorry, Mom.” She frowned down at her little saddlebags, stuffed with the accolades of their adventure. Sweetie Belle had her family, or at least Rarity and the Boutique. Where would home be for Chance? Didn’t castles take generations to build?
“You think the basement’s okay?” Of course, Chance didn’t just ask out of academic interest. Truth’s power had run out, but he had been running for several days after Tirek’s invasion finally ended, manipulating what remained of the drones and Tower hardware. Between him and the princesses returning to their power, there had been no incidents of violence with what remained of the “Great Pack.”
A few of the “squires” had even been allowed to stay, using their powerful armor and new knowledge in service of Equestria. With their knight gone, they couldn’t find any other masters worthy of service besides the princesses he had apparently loved in life.
“Oh!” Twilight’s smile looked genuine this time. “That sounds plausible! I’ve read basements often survive hurricanes and other disasters. I should’ve checked that earlier!”
Chance opened her mouth to say she had known this whole time, then closed it again. She didn’t actually know what condition the basement was in, only that Truth had survived. That didn’t really prove anything, seeing as Truth had survived the fantastic forces of the universal gulf. Fire magic probably wouldn’t even scratch him.
Even without the magic of all Equestria’s Alicorns, Twilight’s power was impressive. Chance watched from behind her, as a great wave of dust and rubble blasted away to either side, clearing a path all the way to the entrance. With a grunt of effort Twilight shoved against a pile of charred wood and branches, and they exploded out of their way. She blasted upward, scattering ruined furniture and piles of burned books until she had cleared the way to the basement door.
It was still there, charred black. As she swung it open, the door fell sideways off its hinges, landing with a crash at their hooves. Twilight tensed all over, brushing the dust off her chest with a little wave of magic. “You two wait here.” She gestured at the doorway. “If it looks safe, I’ll call.”
“You’re a pony, Twi!” Spike protested. “No rubble’s gonna be able to hurt a dragon! I should do it.”
“Maybe.” Twilight shrugged. “But you can’t teleport if the ceiling caves in.”
Spike looked like he might argue. Instead he just nodded. “That’s fair.”
“I’ll see you two in a minute.” Twilight turned, flicking the light switch. Nothing happened. She grunted, her horn starting to glow as she made her way down. The little flicker of lavender light vanished around the corner, leaving them alone in the wreckage.
“How was getting foalnapped?” Spike asked, conversationally. “More fun the second time?”
She shoved him in response, glaring. “I dunno.” She shoved again. “Was that more fun the second time?”
“I’m not sure.” Spike stuck his tongue out… but seemed to think better of escalating further. “How’d you save Canterlot, exactly? I may’ve been dozing a little during the medal ceremony.” Chance glanced briefly back at her saddlebags—they had been through her whole adventure, through the kidnapping, and now apparently held her only surviving possessions.
Holy crap losing a house was awful. She hadn’t even remembered it the first time, with everything else she had lost that day. “Sweetie Belle got the shield down with her singing. Well… Lyra and I tried to help, but neither of us had magic, so…”
Spike nodded, any trace of amusement gone. “Yeah.” There was nothing funny about the kind of suffering they had seen. Some ponies drained, the ones Tirek had taken from the other tribes after leaving the changeling hideout, had been weakened and left in the elements to die. Some of them had.
“Well…” She lowered her voice. “You gotta keep this between us, but we didn’t know the leader of the diamond dogs was planning on capturing Canterlot for herself.”
“She… she what?”
Chance nodded. “Celestia didn’t want that part getting out… With as weak as Equestria already looks to its neighbors, letting the news get out that we were conquered twice in the same week would be really bad.”
Chance shivered, imagining the harsh deserts of the dragon lands and the fearsome creatures who lived there. She imagined the huge griffons with their airships and gunpowder, or the minotaurs said to enter battle rages and fight until they died. Would Equestria’s neighbors see this as their invitation to try what Tirek and his changeling allies had tried?
If they did, it wouldn’t be because of her. She kept her voice down. “Anyway, because the dogs didn’t actually hurt anypony or fight other cities, it wasn’t that hard to keep quiet. I don’t really know what her plan was. Truth and I tricked her into letting us…” How the heck was she supposed to explain systems penetration to a fire-breathing dragon with no concept of computers? “Break all her machines. We did some computer magic, and that was that. Without their leaders, or any of their machines… they thought it was a bad idea to fight Celestia and Luna in their own city.”
“Makes sense.” Spike looked awed. “Glad you had more luck than we did. Getting tricked by evil changelings must run in the family or something.” He rolled his eyes, though his grip was suddenly tense, one claw digging into the wood of the entryway. There was more fear there than he let on.
“Was she evil?” Unlike Spike, Chance had payed attention to every part of that ceremony. “Didn’t she reveal herself? Refuse to hurt a princess, and… tell Twilight where to find the place the changelings were…” She whimpered, unable to continue. She’d had nightmares about that place the last two nights in a row.
Spike nodded. “Still seems pretty evil what she did.” He kicked angrily at the side of the library. “Pretending to be you… lying to ponies… guards died when changelings took Ponyville during that dumb plot.”
Chance took another few moments to recover enough to speak. “Well, how was it like? Didn’t the princesses put Twilight in charge of all Equestria’s Alicorn magic?”
“Yeah!” His expression brightened. “You should’ve seen her. She didn’t say a word to anypony at first… something about that being even worse or whatever. But she was a nervous wreck!” He made a gesture with both claws over his head, which Chance recognized immediately as imitating Twilight’s mane. It wasn’t the first time he had done it for her.
“Blowing up doors, teleporting all over Equestria, shooting through the sky faster than Rainbow Dash… I’m sure she probably wrote a few books in there somewhere. Guess they exploded with the rest of them.” He sighed, slumping sideways against the wall.
“Maybe… we won’t be in a tiny little closet in the new house?” she offered, forcing a smile. “You might even be able to persuade Twilight to give us our own rooms. If the engineers haven’t planned everything yet.”
Spike nodded, face brightening a little. “That does sound nice. Not that… Not that I didn’t have tons of fun sharing!” He grinned with embarrassment. “But dragons grow up slower than ponies. Soon you’ll be too old to share. You’ll want your own space, somewhere to share with your ‘special somepony’ or whatever.”
Chance shoved him again, a little harder than last time. “Not a chance.”
“Say that all you want.” Spike glanced down, a little wistful. “I already saw it happen once. Twilight and I grew up together, but… now she’s all grown up, and I’m still…” He gestured at the wall. “Not. So unless you plan on being an Alicorn before you grow up…”
“I doubt that.” She grinned. “I don’t think I’d make a very good princess.”
“Looks safe!” Twilight’s voice echoed from below, audible only because of Chance’s sensitive pony hearing. “Looks like we won’t have to do the inn after all!”
Chance smiled weakly, then lit up her own horn with gray magic, leading the way down into the basement.
* * *
It was just before sunset that Second Chance found herself alone outside the ruin of her home. She was covered with dirt and grime, smearing up her legs from her vain exploration. She stared at the crater her home had been, a pile of melted solar-panels crumbled in front of her beside the burned wreckage of a book she thought had been her diary.
It was hard to be sure aside from the cover, which beneath the ash was the same shade as the one Twilight had given her a year ago. Little of her life had survived. Not the lovingly-made dresses, not the stuffed doll of a human girl she had sewed with Sweetie Belle’s help, not the (many) books Twilight Sparkle had given her. It was all gone.
“Wish the same damn thing didn’t keep happening to me,” she muttered to nobody, kicking at the ash with one hoof. She had given up trying to stay clean hours ago, and at this point she hardly noticed the grime. The acrid stench of fire burned at her nostrils, permeating every ruin and surviving relic. Not the petroleum stench of a human structure—almost like a campfire. Ponies used very little that wasn’t natural, so she was spared that stench at least.
Chance didn’t turn around at the sound of hoofsteps behind her, and she didn’t much care to. Twilight Sparkle had her own grief, probably even worse than what she felt. Some parts of this process had to be conquered alone. She wasn’t sure how long it would take her to recover. Hopefully not as long as last time; she didn’t have a big sister to help.
At least her new family had all come through this intact. Some families in Equestria weren’t so lucky tonight.
“Excuse me?” It wasn’t Spike or Twilight’s voice, not with such a reedy male voice and thick accent. “This is the library, right?”
“Pardon our dust during the renovations, Pipsqueak.” She didn’t have to turn around to recognize that voice. Were it not for the ash all around her, she probably would’ve smelled him too. “Ponyville’s library will be returning better than ever in one to six months.” She dropped her head into her hooves, moaning faintly.
“I guess there’s no point returning these then.” Something dropped onto the ground beside her—a bundle of twine with several books tightly wrapped inside.
Chance looked, glancing briefly at the titles. Fairly advanced books—not at all what she would have expected from a colt shorter than she was. “I’m sure Twilight will be thrilled you had these.” She rose to her hooves, levitating the bundle off the ground and blowing the dust and ash from the lowest book on the pile. “Three books for the new library.”
Pip stood there as she unwrapped them, shifting nervously on those white and brown hooves of his. He looked like he wanted to say something, but she didn’t try to figure out what it might be.
“Hmm.” She levitated each one into the basket beside her one at a time, beside the handful of other intact books she had managed to find. Every item on the pile was an archeological text of some kind or another. Instead of Daring Do’s fictionalized novel, he had checked out the more academic breakdown of her actual findings.
Only the last book in the pile was even a little bit fictional, one of those sensationalized “10 Unsolved Mysteries” type books. This one was called “10 Unanswered Questions in Modern Archeology.” Even after the week Chance had endured, she couldn’t help but smile at the exaggerated cube on the front cover. “Precursors, huh?”
This was not the procedure for returning books. Given the destruction of her whole world, Chance had trouble caring.
Pipsqueak didn’t look offended. If anything, he seemed impressed. “I didn’t know you liked archaeology! I thought you were into…” He glanced down at her flank, though the mark there probably didn’t help him much. “Geography?”
She shook her head, flipping rapidly through the book. It was wonderful to have her magic back, and be able to do things like this again. How did earth ponies like Pip survive?
Even a sensational book like this was a little difficult for her to read. Still, she kept to the pictures, until she found stuff that looked a little more familiar to her. There was the cube all right, though the symbols depicted there weren’t the same ones Twilight Sparkle had shown her a year ago.
Chance dropped down to the ground again, letting the book slump there in front of her. “Unanswered question number six is a Norfolk four-course.” She turned the page. “And this part is asking if you’ve discovered electrical induction yet.” She turned again. “Oh look, an electromagnet. I’m guessing…” The last page showed several different minerals in vivid color, and the way to draw off conductive wire from copper. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” She closed the book, sliding it along the ground towards him.
Pipsqueak’s eyes got wider, and he flipped hurriedly through the book. “Y-you… You just…” He shook his head. “You’re making fun of me!” There was a little pain in his voice then, however much he tried to fight it. Poor colt was too young and fragile for his own good, clutching protectively at the book.
“I’m not.” Chance pried the book free of his grip with her levitation, jerking so suddenly it came away without tearing. It wasn’t hard to take something away from someone without hands. She gestured at the page, at what looked like a transcription directly from the cube, and read in English. “Grow wheat in the first year, turnips in the second, followed by barley in the third and clover in the forth. This rotation significantly improves the micronutrient—”
She felt a hoof closing her mouth, and Pipsqueak’s breath on her cheek. “Can you really read that?”
She buried her face in her forelegs again. “Not today, Pip. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” She shivered, and without meaning to a wave of force rippled from her horn. It wasn’t really more than a wind, scattering dust and scraps of burned paper from around them. “All the knowledge in the world can’t stop the things you love from burning.”
Pip didn’t say anything, though the sound of his hooves faded. Chance didn’t look up—she didn’t have the energy to deal with a kid right now.
Something moved in front of her, something rustling in the center of the library. Twilight Sparkle had cleared away the wreckage there, spreading it flat onto the bare ground all around the library’s perimeter. “Doesn’t mean you can’t do something.” Something hit her in the face.
Chance whimpered, intending to yell at him to leave. What he had thrown was still on the ground in front of her, the ash already wiped away. It was an acorn, apparently intact despite the mistreatment. “What?”
Pipsqueak had clearly cleaned the thing off with his coat, judging from all the dark stains there. “I might just be a little pony, so I don’t always understand the big stuff. But if I’ve learned anything from all my reading, it’s that ponies can’t give up. Even Equestria can be mean sometimes. We can give up, or we can pick up the pieces and keep going.”
Chance blinked tears from her eyes, or tried. Everything started to blur again, with the light of sunset breaking into orange rainbows around a colt even smaller than she was. “Where’d you find that? Twilight said she…”
Pip shrugged, tapping one of his legs with a hoof. “Earth pony thing I guess.”
“I guess.” Chance levitated the little acorn up to her face, concentrating. With her magic restored, Chance opened her eyes and saw through the dross of matter. There, buried deep within a protective wooden shell and the tightly packed nutrition, she could see the faint glimmer of life.
I can’t believe we never invented sensors to do this. If she ever saw her world again, maybe she could change that. Just because ponies had developed down a different path didn’t mean her people couldn’t learn from them. God knew the learning worked in the other direction.
“If I were you, I’d plant it.” Pipsqueak struck the earth with one little hoof, carving an opening perhaps an inch deep and twice that wide.
Chance rubbed the acorn against her cheek, then lowered it into the opening. Levitation faded, along with her mage sight spell.
She made to turn away, but Pipsqueak caught her hoof. “Come on, Chance. Did nopony teach you how plants work?”
Without knowing why, Chance found herself blushing. “I… Nopony ever did. Unless you count slime growing in tanks.”
“Yuck!” He stuck his tongue out at her. “That does not count.” Pipsqueak tugged on her hoof, knocking the little pile of dirt and ash into the hole and patting it down. “There.” He let go, though he didn’t move his hoof from the ground. “I don’t think you can help with this last part.” He gestured at his forehead with his other hoof. “Wrong kind of magic.”
She just stared. For a moment it seemed like nothing was going to happen—until a faint green shoot broke the surface. It didn’t grow for long, only a little past his hoof, with a single weak-looking leaf covered in ash.
“There, that—” Pip choked as Chance embraced him, pulling the little pony into a tight pony hug.
“Thanks, Pip.” She let go. “You don’t… You don’t know what that means.” Second Chance could almost see another city, a city gray like her eyes and scarred with more ash than the library. More had burned there than books and trees.
No, Second Chance’s cutie mark wasn’t in Geography. She would make that city green again too.
She wiped away the last of the moisture, though that couldn’t do anything for how dirty she was. Dirty they both were, now. “Hey, uh… you wanna get an ice cream?”
* * *
There was none of the strut in Tesla’s gate as he passed into Richard’s office that day. The man’s dark hair had been combed neatly, his uniform pressed clean, and his eyes never went higher than Richard’s chest.
“Your Grace.” He bowed deeply as he entered, exactly 14 degrees deeper than he normally did. “If you have a moment.”
“There is always time for Tower business.” Richard inclined his head politely, though there was no requirement that he do so. Even the High Lord of the Technocratic Order was still just a citizen in his eyes, subject to his absolute authority.
But Richard wasn’t the sort of man who would abuse the authority of his office. Richard was a good king.
Or at the very least, he wanted to be. “Even if that business is bad news.”
Tesla visibly stiffened, his whole body tensing as he made his way over to the front of the desk. There was no chair, as no citizen of the Steel Tower who visited here would have a body capable of tiring. The Tower itself was on the outskirts of London, an area so heavily irradiated that not even cockroaches had been seen there since the Fall.
There was a chair for Richard, though he needed none. Like much the Tower did even today, that too was a matter of image. He gestured, clearing away the holospace above the desk of its assorted clutter. “What trouble are we in, old friend?”
“It’s about the Equestrian incursion team.” Tesla paused, perhaps expecting King Richard to make things easier by filling the silence. Richard said nothing, leaving the Technocrat to be the one to speak.
“Information is… somewhat unclear. What little we have discovered could not be worse.”
Richard did not show emotion easily. This was true of many with android bodies. Few he had ever met could match his regal baring, however. That wasn’t just in the way he could avoid showing his apprehension. Some of it was in actively appearing calm even in the presence of extremely distressing situations or information.
It was not an easy achievement. Richard kept his voice even as he suggested the worst possible thing he could think of. “She was killed by Federation agents, which had infiltrated Equestria to a degree we did not previously understand.”
Again, the way Tesla’s whole body froze was evidence enough of Richard’s success, and the stress the Technocrat was feeling. There was no sign of grief, though. Not like the grief Richard himself had shown when news of Leonidas's death had reached him.
“I… wish you were more wrong, Your Grace. We can only speculate. As you are probably aware, we make contact on a weekly basis, to exchange information and give new orders. Our recent signal went unanswered, so I queried her fleet. Last week, she had built a force of roughly ten-thousand…”
“Nineteen responded, mostly long-distance surveyors or mining equipment. All were drones that spent long periods off the network… so we suspected something had happened.”
“And you investigated,” Richard supplied. He didn’t like where this was going. Unfortunately, even being the absolute ruler of all mankind did not make him more able to shape reality with his desires alone.
Tesla nodded. “Her outpost was in ruins. No attack… every drone there had been destroyed by self-destruct or intentional overload. Her manufacturing equipment, much of which lacks a self-destruct, had been intentionally sabotaged. Extensive searching allowed us to recover a mostly intact data-module and rebuild some of what happened.”
He gestured at the table, which filled suddenly with flickering green nodes. The map represented the network of drones, and it moved in constant flux, shifting and waving about like a swarm of insects.
In a single flowing wave, all the drones changed color, and started buzzing around in agitation instead of their orderly dance. They vanished in great, choreographed flashes of light, hundreds at a time. Eventually the last light went out.
“We created this simulation based on the few modules we were able to collect. It suggests network intrusion by a skilled hacker, skilled enough to overcome Lady Brigid and all her swarm intelligence. I feel the likelyhood a human hacker of any skill would be capable of this”—he gestured vaguely—“is near zero. We also have failed to detect the Rift being moved anywhere in Equestria, or any sort of stabilizer on the other end. This suggests the Federation did not involve living agents. It suggests they sent one of their GAIs. At least Kappa class. Perhaps higher.”
“Not perhaps.” Richard stared at the simulation, watching Brigid’s nodes fall over and over. There was no telling which one had been holding her consciousness. A child senselessly slaughtered, because to their enemy they were “just machines.”
It was no accident he allowed Tesla to sense his anger. No accident he raised his voice and clenched the desk so hard the wood strained and popped. “A Kappa core might be able to penetrate a network this large, but it wouldn’t have survived the crossing. Even if it had, it wouldn’t be able to communicate with the natives to make allies, or manufacture penetration equipment.”
“If the Federation know of our involvement with Equestria and wanted to stop us, that would not be the way. They would choose an intelligence built to last, with strength to cross the gulf, with the ability to manufacture on its own, generate its own power, and communicate easily even without technology. They would choose an intelligence with the power to widen the rift, with enough energy.”
Tesla retreated, shivering. “You think they would sacrifice one of the OMICRON cores to an uncertain mission on another world? The energy required to widen the gulf even that much… it would be astronomical!”
“Energy they have in abundance with the lunar reactor. Cores they have…” He thought only a moment, recalling his last tactical report. “Seven. Six now, if one is in Equestria. I suppose it doesn’t matter which.”
“What will we do?” Tesla’s voice was low, somewhere between nervous and eager. “Destroy a few of the shelters in retaliation? I know of at least three within five hundred miles, and could—”
“No.” Richard silenced him with a glare. “We will not strike civilians because of what we suspect to be an act of war. Besides… if we break the cease-fire on Earth, that might be the end. Even if we exterminate the population of every shelter, the Aegis could bombard our city from orbit and destroy what we have accomplished. No… if there is to be another war, we will not fight it here.”
Richard leaned down, moving his hand rapidly through the holospace. The little simulation faded, replaced with a few glittering specks. Exactly 19 of them, in fact. “We’re armed with information, old friend. Even if it cost us one of the best sages of your order. You have my word there will be justice for her.”
“Will we… send another? Perhaps someone trained in systems security this time?”
“No.” Richard rose. “Listen and hear my will, Lord Tesla. Direct every surviving drone to flee from all life, flee into the wilderness where they will not be found. They will operate as a collective swarm no longer, but instead we will compile new directives for each from this side. We will return to Brigid’s directive of growing her fleet. We will avoid all living things, all population centers, and make secrecy our priority.”
“That… would stretch the timeline by several years at least, Your Grace. Perhaps decades.”
“Perhaps,” he repeated. “Except that when we are prepared, we will find that OMICRON Core… and use its power to stabilize the rift from the other side. If the process destroys it, well… so much the better.”
Tesla nodded, and there was nothing of being forced in his salute. “It will be done!” He turned, hurrying for the door. It snapped shut behind him, leaving Richard alone.
King Richard turned away from the doorway, facing out the window. Even though this was one of the few intact glass surfaces in the tower, one of the few worth constant cleaning, it was hard not to look out upon his kingdom and see mostly filth.
He was only a few floors up, not like the throne room in the rusting tower’s tip. He saw mostly the courtyard, with hundreds of androids and thousands of drones going about their daily business. Every day the solar fields grew larger, and the rubble from further and further was cleared. Near the tower the old gardens had been “repaired”, using plastic flowers and astroturf in place of the plants that would not have grown.
Somewhere not so far away was a world with real flowers and real grass, where the water wasn’t toxic and the air didn’t burn. This setback would not dissuade him. Equestria would still be his. It would just take a little more time.
