//------------------------------// // Chapter 15: Even More Bonding Time Part II // Story: From the Ashes // by Boltstrike58 //------------------------------// Equis, Canterlot Thor touched down in the central square of Canterlot City once more, the castle directly in front of him. A few curious ponies stopped to gawk at him, but the stuffy Canterlot elite, just as insufferable as ever, ignored him entirely, and soon no eyes were focused on the alien. It suited Thor just fine. The Asgardian warrior was troubled by the actions of his friends, and their seemingly never-ending supply of anger towards each other. Heimdall had, of course, informed him of everything that had occurred on Earth in his absence, including the Sokovia Accords and the revelation that Sergeant Barnes had murdered Tony Stark's parents. If Thor had to be honest, he agreed with the Captain, believing that Barnes shouldn't be judged based on actions he committed under the control of Hydra. At the same time, he understood Tony's rage, having felt it himself when he almost fried Malekith's face off following Frigga's death. Lost, Thor had decided to visit Celestia, hoping he could have another talk with her about Twilight Sparkle. Walking up the front steps of the castle, Thor was met by Captain Fortified Shield, a pony he'd become familiar with since his previous visit. "Ah, Prince Thor," said the stallion. "Are you seeking an audience with the princess?" "Yes," Thor replied. "I was hoping—" "Unfortunately, I do not believe that will happen today," said Luna, appearing in the doorway. "Tia's in her study, you know she never lets anypony disturb her in there." Thor smiled politely at the midnight alicorn. "Some things never do change, do they?" he asked. The thunder god stepped inside, giving a nod to Fortified Shield. Luna and Thor strolled down the castle hallways, listening to the expensive carpet as it crumpled under each step. Royal Guards, stationed at the most important locations, didn't even glance at them as they passed, keeping all of their energy focused on their work. The duo eventually arrived in the throne room, with two identical seats, except for the specific sun and moon markings adorning each chair. "I'm guessing your return to the throne went less than smoothly," Thor started. "You were gone for one-thousand years. It can't have been without difficulties." "True," Luna admitted. "Not to mention that Tia forgot to tell me not to use the Royal Canterlot Voice when communication with ponies." She didn't bother to continue, expecting Thor to burst into hysterics. She was not disappointed. Thor was doubled over with laughter, shaking so hard he actually dropped Mjönir onto the floor with a thunk. He fell onto his knees with a thump, holding his chest as he cackled like an insane hyena. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he choked out between gasps of air. "It's just, the thought of you, bellowing at the top of your lungs at ponies for no reason, and Celestia-!" He lost it there, being forced to put out an arm to steady himself. Finally, he managed to catch his breath, climbing to his feet. "Are you done?" Luna deadpanned. "Yes...yes," said Thor, somewhat embarrassed. "So, do you know when Celestia will be finished? I was hoping to talk to her about Princess Sparkle." Luna sighed to herself. "I have no idea," she admitted. "Over the past few weeks, she's been shutting herself in there, just to be alone with her thoughts. It's been less frequent recently, because she's been so occupied with Sombra's revenge plot, your return, and the Avengers, but still..." Thor looked concerned. "Yesterday, she told me that she's been having some reservations over Twilight's...life up to this point. She's been having nightmares about it, even." Luna stomped her hoof angrily. "I knew it!" she snapped. "She hasn't let me into her dreams in weeks! I knew she was hiding something!" "I told her she needs to talk to Twilight if she wants to make any progress with their relationship," said Thor, "but she's terrified. She thinks Twilight secretly resents her or something. It's insane. It's as though something's—" He was cut off by a loud popping noise, emitting directly next to his ear, followed by a gigantic air horn triggered from the exact same spot. Thor's hands snatched to his head, clutching it in agony, almost dropping Mjölnir again in the process. Luna pushed her ears down with her hooves, glaring in anger at the source of the disturbance, Discord. "So sorry, everypony, I forgot to call ahead," chuckled the chaotic being, "but I figure this works just as well." "Discord, I swear, I'll drag you to Muspelheim myself," growled Thor, still hanging onto his skull. "Just as soon as this ringing in my head stops..." "Oh, come now, Thor!" Discord laughed, snaking himself around Thor's neck like a boa. "Surely the high and mighty prince of Asgard can survive a little noise?" A blue glow surrounded Discord as Luna ignited her horn. The alicorn telekinetically tossed the draconnequus off of Thor, then lifted her friend back to his feet. "What do you want, Discord?" she demanded, sounding irritated. "Is this just one of your spontaneous 'goodwill' visits, or do you have an actual purpose?" "Oh, Luna, how could you be so cruel?!" Discord whined, leaning backwards, a tattoo of a broken heart appearing on his chest. "After all I've done, all the friends I've made among ponies, do you still not trust me?" "It's not a matter of trust," said Luna, clenching her teeth. "It's more the fact that Sombra's revenge is taking more of our time right now, Thor and I are having a serious discussion, and you tend to drive everypony off the deep end!" Thor's expression told any observer with two functioning brain cells that his thoughts were on the same page. "Well, of course," Discord admitted. "Spirit of Chaos, remember? That's who I am." He snapped his fingers, teleporting over to the twin thrones. However, Discord opted to conjure a hammock out of nothing, laying himself between the thrones. The ends of the hammock, naturally, held onto thin air. "But, even I can understand the need to tone down," Discord admitted, filing the nails on his lion's paw with a jagged rock. "So, you say Celestia's having a little trouble in paradise?" "Don't even think about it, Discord," said Thor. "This has nothing to do with you." "Of course it doesn't, Thor," replied the draconequus. "But when you have friends, you help them. Contrary to popular belief, I do care about others besides Fluttershy." At the skeptic looks directed his way, he added, "Less, certainly, but I do." "Look, Discord," said Luna, "at the moment, we are without any good course of action. Even your supreme powers may not hold the ability to change that. So, if you have no suggestions, please leave us to work this out ourselves." "Oh, alright," said Discord, snapping his fingers, dematerializing his hammock in the process. "I think I can find something to do." With another loud pop, he was gone. "I don't care what Celestia says," said Thor. "I still don't care for him." "He can behave himself...when he feels like it," Luna admitted. "And he is fun at parties. As for our previous topic, what were you planning to say?" Thor thought for a moment, the headache Discord had given him not making it any easier on his memory, "For Celestia to start feeling this guilt over Twilight just now is oddly coincidental. You say they haven't had any sort of disagreement recently? Nothing especially terrible has happened to Twilight?" Luna shook her head. "I would've thought this line of thinking would need some sort of catalyst. It's as though something's...influencing her." Luna looked on gravely. "Well, we'd better find some way to help her," she declared. "Get her and Twilight to have a talk. The more strife we have among ourselves, the stronger Sombra's chances of winning." Equis, Everfree Forest Edge Wanda's trademark red energy swirled around her fingertips, reaching out and coalescing around the group of small rocks ahead of her. She raised her arms, telekinetically lifting the rocks and holding them above her head. With a wave of her hands, she arranged them into a circle, then a diamond shape, then an octagon. She spun the display, making the rocks twirl in their perpetual orbit. Deciding to mix it up, she clenched her hands, causing the energy to tense around each stone, battering them, leaving large splits in the surfaces. With a resounding crack, the rocks broke apart into several dozen tiny fragments. Wanda made another gesture, shifting the now small rocks into a larger, six-pointed star in front of her. The Sokovian sighed to herself as she continued to go through her telekinetic exercises. Back home, this had been a good way for her to take her mind off of things, or at least relax for a while. They'd been conceived during her time as Hydra's test subject, as a way for her to practice, and ideally master, her new powers, and she'd continued them well into her Avengers tenure. Now, it just felt like going through the motions, doing these things out of nothing more than habit. She'd felt cooped up in the castle, especially considering Stark was still there, and she didn't particularly enjoy his company. If she were honest, she was also avoiding a certain android, about whom she felt much less certain. Nobody had to know that, of course. At the same time, there was nothing for her on this planet. Nothing but these meaningless distractions. Joining this mission in the first place had felt like a reflex action. Something she held no emotional investment in doing, but did anyway, because she was accustomed to doing so. Joining the Avengers, in the beginning, had given her a sense of purpose, feeling like she truly belonged somewhere in a world without Pietro, without her other half. Now it felt like nothing more than a job. She wasn't even making a difference, she was just trying to do something besides think of her self-loathing. Wanda tried to suppress her feelings of anxiety, but failed to keep them calm, causing her to lose her focus on her telekinesis, dropping the rock fragments onto the ground. "Some impressive work, there," said a voice. Wanda turned, finding herself facing one of the ponies, a pink unicorn mare with a purple and turquoise mane. "You don't even have a horn! It's fascinating." "Did you need something...er—" Wanda started. She couldn't recall the name. "Starlight Glimmer," said the pony, holding out her hoof. Wanda gave it a small shake. "Don't worry, we haven't had much in the way of introductions." "Sure, thank you," replied the human. "I'm, er, Wanda. Maximoff. Did you need something?" "Well, no," Starlight admitted, shuffling her hooves awkwardly. "I know you said you wanted to be alone, but you looked a little unhappy, and I wondered if, y'know...maybe you wanted to talk to somepony?" Wanda stared at the pony for a minute, trying to decide how to react. She was tempted to bring out a false persona of anger, hoping to drive off Starlight, but ultimately decided against it. After all, Starlight hadn't tried to force any answers from her. "...no, thank you," she finally answered. "You can stay and watch, if you want, but I won't be much for conversation." "Okay! Sure," Starlight replied, breathing an internal sigh of relief. That'd gone over better than she'd expected. Wanda turned away from her, and ignited her hands again, this time targeting a handful of tree branches formed of the gnarled, black wood present in so much of the Everfree Forest. Holding them all in straight, vertical positions, she intensified the energy once more, snapping the wood into dozens of tiny twigs. Thinking of complex patterns, Wanda shaped them into a design resembling Captain Rogers' original shield, a circle with a five-pointed star in the center. Starlight observed the human's actions with interest. She recalled basic magic school when she'd been a filly, when she'd learn the basic limits of what she could do with her horn. Telekinetic exercises were an important part of a unicorn's education, especially when their magic was beginning to mature, and the pony needed to control it. Lack of use could cause a magical build-up in a unicorn, which could lead to health problems. While not every unicorn held a special talent for magic, they could all master the basics. Nostalgia filling her, Starlight sent power into her own horn, ripping out many loose blades of grass. A second magical glow enveloped some of the dirt laying beneath her hooves, and it swirled through the air as a fine powder. With a few simple manipulations, Starlight arranged the grass and earth into a design resembling her own shooting star Cutie Mark, with grass serving as a border, and the dirt acting as the filling color. Wanda, in spite of herself, turned to the unicorn, curious. "Impressive," she noted. "I didn't know you ponies were so adept at this." Starlight gave a proud smile. "Magic is my forte, after all," she said. "Seems to be yours, as well." "Mine's not magic," Wanda replied. "It's—" She stopped herself before she could reply. She realized she wasn't even sure exactly what her abilities were. She knew about the biological origins in her brain, but they'd come about thanks to the Mind Stone, which was...whatever it was. "It was given to me through experiments. I wasn't born with it." "Really?" asked Starlight, intrigued. "So you're the only human who can do those things?" "As far as I know," said Wanda, mentally grasping a weed and tearing it free from it's roots. "I also have some telepathy based powers." "Amazing," breathed Starlight. "What kind off experiments? What happened to you?" Wanda released her telekinetic grip, dropping everything she held, as she gave the unicorn a look. It wasn't a particularly harsh look, but it was a subtle signal that she'd gone into the wrong territory. Wanda's time with Hydra hadn't been pleasant, but what was worse were the unpleasant memories she'd learned to associate with it, among them Pietro, the fall of Sokovia, and what would eventually lead to Lagos. Wanda wanted none of these to be conversation topics. "Sorry...sorry," Starlight sheepishly replied. Even after all this time, she still wasn't very good with friendship, or making new friends. Mentally, she thanked whatever deities existed that she hadn't gotten deep into a taboo subject before Wanda cut her off. "So...you probably want me to leave now—" "No, no," Wanda insisted, feeling a bit guilty, like she'd been too severe with the unicorn. "You can stay, just...let's talk about you instead, okay?" "Oh, okay," said Starlight. With her past, and the things she'd done, she wasn't exactly comfortable talking about herself, but at least it was easier than tip-toeing through Wanda's history. Wanda came over to the unicorn, setting herself down on her rear beside Starlight. She figured a display of casual nature would help ease some of the lingering tension. "So, Steve told us a little bit about the Elements of Harmony," Wanda started. "The six other ponies hold those titles. What about you?" "Well, I'm Twilight's friendship student," said Starlight. "Since it's her domain as a princess, her job is basically to help solve social conflicts between ponies. I'm sort of a...special case, since I really knew nothing about friendship when we met. In fact, I was, er...about as far as you could go from Twilight. I did some...okay, a lot of things I regret." "I know that feeling, believe me," Wanda replied. "I promise I won't ask about them, I'm not a hypocrite." "No, no, it's fine," Starlight replied. "It's a long story, but suffice it to say, I basically built up a foalhood incident into a hatred of Cutie Marks, stole a bunch, tried to exact a pretty terrible revenge on Twilight after she stopped me that almost resulted in the destruction of Equestria...now I'm trying to get better." "You hated those tattoos you ponies have?" Wanda asked, curious. "I...well, I overinflated some problems that could arise from them," Starlight explained. "All I could think of was ponies being divided, because every individual was better than everyone else in some way, and it just didn't feel like anypony was equal. Even worse, it felt like nopony had any control over their destiny, forced to do whatever appeared on their flank when they got older." She winced, memories of the removal spell she'd used on so many others flashing in her mind. "Back then, I didn't know what Princess Celestia told us about Cutie Marks, how they're basically an expression of a pony's soul. If I had..." She thought for a moment. "I honestly can't say I would've done the same things, but who knows?" "So, when you find what it is that you do best, that mark just appears on you?" asked Wanda. "Sort of like a sign saying 'This is your purpose in life?'" "Well, not your only purpose in life, necessarily," said Starlight. "A glance at their Cutie Mark doesn't tell you everything you need to know about a pony. It's more like a representation of part of that pony." Hm, Wanda thought. Must be nice, having a chunk of your destiny plastered on your body. Knowing who you are. Indecision wouldn't be nearly as much of a problem with those. However, out loud, she said nothing. "Anyway, my talent lies in magical variety, like Twilight's," said Starlight. "I, er, I guess I followed you today because I saw your powers and I got kind of curious as to how they worked, and if it was widespread human thing. You don't have a unicorn's horn, which is required as a conduit to manipulate magic. But, as you said, your powers aren't magic, so not much to talk about, is there?" "Well," Wanda answered, forming the familiar red wisps between her cupped hands, "like I said, I don't know exactly where they came from. You could talk to...Vision. Before he was created, the Stone in his head was used to create my powers. We know very little about that, though." Starlight studied Wanda's collected energy with interest. "You said you had some sort of telepathy, too? Can you show me how that works?" Wanda raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure? The process is...somewhat invasive. Most aren't comfortable with me rummaging around in their heads." "I trust you not to look at anything private," responded Starlight. "Maybe just...show me what your planet looks like, with mental images, or maybe some unimportant memory?" Wanda thought about it for a moment. "Well, that sounds harmless," she admitted. "Alright." Wanda formed a scoop with her hand, red light pooling into a small sphere shape. Holding the orb up, she looked at Starlight one last time for confirmation, which she received in the form of a small nod. Satisfied, Wanda raised her hand next to Starlight's temple, her energy jumping off into the pony's temple, and her veins pulsed with red light. Starlight closed her eyes. She was walking through a city about the size of Canterlot. Buildings, reminiscent of older architecture, surrounded her on all sides, with aged brick composing their walls. Metallic chariots with nothing pulling them raced down the middle of the street. Starlight didn't know what they were, until Wanda's mind supplied her with the word car. Starlight looked down at her own body, noticing the bipedal shape, and the two arms ending in the fleshy fingers. While she wasn't in control of it, she could physically feel what Wanda had felt during the memory. This was clearly from Wanda's youth, as she was much shorter than Starlight knew her. Reaching a hand up, Wanda ran a hand through her own hair, and Starlight's sense of touch relayed the feeling of it to her. It reminded her a bit of her mane, yet more fine. Wanda turned her head, and Starlight's line of sight followed. Another human came into view, an older woman, wearing a silk, grey dress. Her hair nearly reached her hips, and her face brought upon a swelling of peace into Wanda's head, making it's way to Starlight. The pony guessed she was Wanda's mother. The woman looked ahead of them, and spoke in a language Starlight didn't understand, but Wanda's brain mentally translated it for her. "Don't run too far ahead, Pietro," she called. Wanda followed her gaze, her sight falling upon a young boy, about her age, with a head of spiky hair the same brown shade as hers— Starlight's brain screamed in surprise, as the image set off an electric connect the dots through the two joined brains.: She stood in the crumbling church, the metallic constructs around her nonexistent, as she felt her heart tear in half, and the second part of her died. A thought crossed her mind, hissing in her ear that this was all her fault— All she wanted to do was sit there, beside the corpse of Ultron, as the improvised meteor exploded above the Earth, having no more reason to live. But then she saw the figure flying towards her— The panicked screams and the smell of fire swarmed around her, the upper floor of the building blasted apart by Rumlow's bomb, a tragedy she'd failed to stop— She was in handcuffs, with her new power-suppressing collar, being led by armed soldiers to a transport plane. Vision looked at her, as though he wanted to say something, but she just shook her head— Wanda suddenly gasped in shock, leaping backwards, causing her to trip and fall on her backside. Starlight fell over as well, her mind thrown into a daze by the sensation of being wrenched out of the memory. She took several deep breaths, her brain readjusting itself to her normal body once again. "Wanda?" she asked, climbing to her hooves once more, her legs wobbling in the process. Wanda had wrapped her arms around herself, trembling where she sat, making no effort to get up. She mumbled to herself in Romani as she stared at the ground, rocking back and forth. She finally replied with, "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to show you that. I picked a memory I thought didn't have anything...I'm sorry." Starlight stared at the human, who continually refused to make eye contact with her. Wanda was clearly in some sort of emotional shock, triggered by something in the first memory, though Starlight had no idea what. The memory she'd been introduced to, Wanda's childhood, looked completely innocent, yet it had led to those other, far more horrible moments in Wanda's history. Going through the events that'd just occurred, a thought came to the pony. "Wanda, who was that boy—" "Pietro. My brother," Wanda snapped. "He died." She didn't want to talk about him. Not with this pony, and certainly not right now. Her earlier reservations gone, she was being intentionally harsh in an effort to drive the unicorn away, to avoid sharing her shameful past. Starlight deserved better than that, especially with the emotional roller coaster Wanda had accidentally put her through. Unfortunately for her, it didn't seem to be working. Starlight tentatively reached forward with one foreleg. "Wanda," she pleaded, "I know it's not my place, but you seem upset. I want to help—" "I have to go," Wanda cut her off, climbing to her own feet. She turned around, marching off towards Ponyville. She threw an aggressive glance back at Starlight, carrying a wordless warning: don't follow. Starlight stood there quietly, obeying Wanda's unspoken commands. She felt a sting of guilt reach her, wishing she'd done more for the human, but she'd unknowingly treaded too far. Wanda was in so much pain, but she refused to share it, to try and get help. Almost like she was intentionally punishing herself. It was something Starlight couldn't understand. Or, said her brain, recalling part of the memory in the church. Maybe you can. Wanda walked farther and farther away from the Everfree Forest, directed at nowhere in particular. Tears dripped from her eyes, but she didn't allow herself to break down. Not where she could be seen. Equis, Ponyville Spike was frustrated. This feeling wasn't new to him or anything, but right now, it was particularly vexing. Considering the crisis the team was currently undergoing, he thought irritation alone was relatively small. It didn't help that the party currently threatening to conquer Equestria, King Sombra, out of all their enemies, was the one that Spike had the largest hand in defeating. It was like fate was spiting him. Of course, the dragon's anger wasn't just directed at Sombra's return. It was more the feeling of helplessness that seemed contrived to drive him crazy. In this conflict, Spike didn't feel like he was making himself useful to the others. Twilight and Tony had just pulled out the larger power tools for whatever they'd been working on, and for safety reasons, Spike had been ejected from the workroom. Twilight had given him the "It's really not your fault, we just don't want to put you at risk" look, which he'd believed, especially after Tony had demonstrated just how powerful the industrial laser was. Unfortunately, this left the young dragon all alone, with none of his daily tasks unfinished, listening to the faint sounds of Twilight yelling at Tony for even more property damage. Boy, that'd gone on for a while. Fluttershy, who'd already left the castle, had offered to give Spike some work around her cottage, where Dr. Banner was currently sipping tea, but he'd refused. He knew he'd just get bored there, too. Now he sat, trying to think of something productive, and coming up blank. "Are you alright?" came a voice. Spike turned in his chair, finding himself facing King T'Challa, the Black Panther, wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans. For the first time, Spike noticed the necklace he wore, being a simple black band with a metal, claw-shaped ornament on it. "Oh, y-your Highness!" he stuttered, nearly falling out of his chair as he tried to get into a respectful position. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were still here—" The dragon was cut off by the feeling of a soft hand coming to rest upon him. T'Challa gently lifted the dragon back up into a standing position, then got down on one knee so they'd be at eye level. "As I informed your Princesses," T'Challa said, "you are under no obligation to treat me as royalty. Please, just call me T'Challa, Spike." Spike breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He hated bowing, anyway. What surprised him was the way T'Challa addressed him as an equal, not caring in the slightest about the difference between the two. His voice carried a calm, serene feeling to it, and Spike thought he would never feel unsafe around the man. "Thanks, I guess," he finally replied. "I didn't realize you were still here. You aren't out on the town with some of the others?" T'Challa shook his head. "I find that moments like these are best spent meditating on the situation," he replied. "But enough about myself. Tell me, what troubles you?" Spike blinked in surprise. "How did you even know? I wasn't making overt expressions through body language! I don't think I was even frowning! Can you read minds?" T'Challa gave a knowing smile. "I have diplomatically served Wakanda for my whole life. I learned from an early age how to read others, understand the things they would never say out loud. Your body acted in minute ways, but still noticeable. You tensed your fangs, your tail was twitching, and you dug a small gash into that chair." Spike looked over at the chair to see that he'd done just that, carving a tiny little slice into the body. It was barely the size of an ant, and thus, barely perceivable. He had to hand it to T'Challa, the man had eyes like the cat he dressed up as. "Huh," he muttered to himself. "Spike, do you wish to speak of your troubles?" continued the king. "I am willing to lend my ears, but I will not force you." "Well," Spike started, tentatively, "see, the last time we faced off against King Sombra, the Crystal Empire had just returned, and it was our job to secure it. Ultimately, I, with some help from Princess Cadence, was the one who returned the Crystal Heart, the source of the Empire's safety, to its rightful place. Twilight found the thing, of course, but she told me to take it. Since then, I've become a pretty big celebrity in the Empire." The young drake smiled to himself, clearly reveling in that fact. "But now..." his face fell as he continued, "Sombra's back, and I can't do anything to help stop him. Twilight can't have me in the room while she's working on whatever it is, and she wouldn't let me come to the Shrine..." Seeing the look on T'Challa's face, he quickly clarified, "I'm not mad at her for looking after me. She doesn't condescend to me, but...I hate this feeling. The feeling of being dead weight. I'm still a young dragon, barely capable of anything. It's like I'm Humdrum all over again. Don't ask, long story." T'Challa nodded in affirmation. "A sensible frustration in times such as these," he noted. "Though, from what I've observed, none of your friends would consider you a liability." "No, they wouldn't," Spike acknowledged. "They're too good for that. But there's a difference between how others perceive you, and how you see yourself." Wise for his age, T'Challa thought to himself. Out loud, he said, "Spike, what did Princess Twilight say when she told you not to go to the Shrine? "Just that it was too dangerous," replied the dragon. "Not really a place for what's still the dragon equivalent of a baby." "There is a fault in her logic," T'Challa noted. "If you are not exposed to dangerous situations and given the chance to learn, you won't become more skilled, and thus, prepared to handle the risks when you don't have a choice. You will need to find some way to get experience." "That makes sense," said Spike. "But I'm not trained for anything, while most of the others are. Twilight's a master of magic, Rainbow and Applejack are physically active enough to make themselves super strong, Pinkie is...well, Pinkie. I haven't—" "There's only so much that can be learned from simple training, Spike," said T'Challa. "True power, true capabilities, emerge from experience. When I was a young man, I had to take the trials of the Black Panther, like my father, and everyone who has worn the Black Panther mantle before I. There was a very real risk, a risk that had to be overcome, in order to earn the power of the Panther. It required all of my physical and mental prowess. But it prepared me for a future as a warrior." He smiled down at the shocked dragon. "Of course, you should probably start somewhere lower." Spike was in awe. The Avengers had already been incredible to him, like something out of his Power Ponies comics come to life (again), but this was on another level. T'Challa had shown himself to be a truly understanding individual, one who was willing to listen to Spike's problems, and offer logical suggestions for solutions. Of course, whether Twilight would agree with him was another matter entirely, but they'd burn that bridge when they came to it. "Can you teach me?" he implored, putting his claws together in a pleading gesture. "Just get me through some of the basics? I know you said training isn't everything, but—" "Of course," responded the king. "I've never taken a student before, but I believe I can." He moved to the center of the room, standing straight as an arrow, and faced the small dragon. "See if you can land a hit on me," he prompted. Spike grinned. Giving his tail a quick wag, he braced himself on both of his clawed feet. With a quick burst of energy, the small dragon charged the short distance between him and the king, before slamming his tail into the ground. The force of the blow launched him into the air, and he pulled back one claw into a fist, aiming for T'Challa's face. The human smiled, before catching Spike by the chest with one hand. The dragon's momentum through the air was completely halted, and Spike gasped as the sudden stop knocked the air out of him. Apparently not content with that, T'Challa flicked his arm, lightly tossing Spike over his shoulder. Spike landed on his back with a loud bang, his scales clattering against the crystalline floor. "Clever opening attack," T'Challa acknowledged. "Most would probably expect your flame breath. But you're still predictable, and easily intercepted." Spike groaned as he climbed to his feet. "You wouldn't be so confidant if I'd been in my giant dragon form," he retorted. T'Challa gave a small chortle. "You have much to learn, Spike." Compared to Twilight's castle, the townhouse shared by Lyra and Bon-Bon was unremarkable. Then again, Vision supposed, the fact that a species so similar to Earth's horses was capable of constructing their own civilization, building houses, developing industries, and creating a stable society should've overshadowed anything else. Besides, the house was perfectly cozy, and the android had no need for luxury. "So what do they call your offshoot species?" demanded Lyra, grinning at Vision from the other side of the table, her eyes widened as much as physically possible. The black tablet was temporarily laid aside, with unfinished notes tossed about. Vision groaned. The unicorn had been attempting to extract information from him on human society, biology, and other subjects for hours, and he'd kept steering her back to the tablet, feeling it was the priority at the moment. Unfortunately for him, he didn't think that particular argument was going to work this time. He supposed he'd have to humor her, at least for a little while. "I am not actually human," Vision answered. "I'm a synthetic being, formed from artificial tissue, and metallic molecules. This," he tapped the Mind Stone, "is the source of my consciousness. I suppose you could call me an android, though that term's not a perfect fit. To be honest, I don't know the exact term for myself." "So they created you?!" Lyra exclaimed, grabbing another piece of paper. "That's fascinating! What if the humans on Equis were capable of that level of science?! Could something have caused us to lose that knowledge when they went extinct?! What if they already made something like you?! What—" Vision stopped Lyra, placing a hand casually over her mouth. "Remember that you still need to breathe, Miss Heartstrings," he insisted. Lyra obeyed, taking a few deep inhalations of air, making up for what she'd missed during her rant. "Thanks, Viz," she panted. Vision flinched at Lyra's coincidental use of Wanda's old nickname for him, but she didn't notice. "Why do you obsess so much over humans?" he asked, curious. "From what Princess Twilight said, most of your species doesn't even know or believe they exist." Lyra shrugged. "Just a hobby, I guess. I was hooked as soon as I learned about them. It started when I bought this," she moved to an old cabinet across the room, "from an old vendor." Her horn ignited, Lyra flipped open the doors to the cabinet, searching through the various cluttered items, eventually coming upon her objective. She levitated over a large glass jar, containing what looked like a partially preserved human skull, though missing it's lower jaw. Vision studied the object with a strange fascination he couldn't quite place, recalling the anatomy books he'd picked up in his spare time. It certainly looked like it could've passed for a sample taken from Earth, though Vision admitted he wasn't an expert in that field. The skull had faded to a shade of dark brown, and a small hole had been formed by wear and tear in the left temple. Vision assumed the only reason the thing was still in good condition was the ponies' preservative magic. "At first, I thought it was just another ridiculous souvenir," Lyra explained. "I mean, the guy was selling dragon bone necklaces that were obviously fake! But I picked it up, and I couldn't stop looking at it. I've confirmed it the the few archeologists that actually believe in humans, this is the real deal. "Ultimately, I guess...I just wanted to know what they were like. Were they as advanced as ponies, what was their society like, and did they place the same value on friendship that we do? It's a subject that needs to be explored." The unicorn turned back to the Vision. "Maybe this works out for both of us. You're technically not human, so you could give me an outsider's perspective." Lyra realized the problem with her words as soon as they were out of her mouth. To his credit, Vision didn't snap at her. However, she could read his expression as his face fell, staring down at the ground. In his own head, Vision was feeling all his guilt towards his friends come rushing back, especially Wanda. He cared for her well-being, and he'd genuinely believed that she'd been safer contained in the compound. At the same time, he'd been keeping her prisoner, without even resisting Tony. How could he claim to have her interests at heart when he'd betrayed her trust so easily? Then he'd allowed her to be dragged off to the Raft, and his loss of emotional balance had cost Rhodey the use of his legs. In the end, no matter how much he pretended otherwise, he wasn't human. He wasn't one of them. Lyra, while unaware of the exact nature of the emotional baggage in Vision's head, knew she'd hurt him, and rushed to try and remedy the situation. "W-what I meant was, since you weren't born human, and you had to learn about how they were from your friends—" "No, no, you are correct," Vision cut her off, waving his hand. "While I am an Avenger, I'm not human. I'm not one of them." "But that doesn't matter, right?" Lyra continued. "Species doesn't mean anything when it comes to friendship! Spike's the only dragon any of us know, but he's still a close-knit member of Twilight's friend circle." Vision sighed. "I'd like to believe so, Miss Heartstrings," he replied, "but sometimes personal connections aren't that simple." "Sure they're not," Lyra responded. "It's the same with ponies. I'm not the Princess of Friendship or anything, but hey, it's one of the foundations of Equestrian society. Like, a while back, I found out that my roommate, Bon-Bon, had...er, been keeping a pretty big secret from me, which I won't repeat, for obvious reasons. But we worked through it, we talked about how we felt about it, and why we did what we did, and we're still friends." Vision allowed himself a brief smile. "From what I've seen," he stated, "humans and ponies aren't that radically different. Humans are just individuals, trying to make their way through life, dealing with problems as they come to them. They befriend each other, take care of each other, work to survive...I wouldn't say friendship is as idolized on Earth, but it remains a valuable part of any human's life." Lyra returned the synthezoid's happy expression. "See? If humans are really like that, who cares if you're synthetic? They're your friends, and that makes you one of them." Vision desperately wanted to believe the unicorn, but found it difficult, considering the rift that'd formed among the Avengers. He ultimately decided to remain cautiously hopeful. He'd have to find some time to apologize to Wanda before this mess was over, at the very least. "Now," he announced, as he picked up a half-finished translation scribbled on a torn piece of paper, "I believe we should finish this." "Okay," Lyra conceded, levitating her quill. Fortunately, most of the tablet had been translated, with only a few more lines to go. Vision acted as an extra set of eyes (and the only pair of hands) for Lyra, keeping the way various character translations and reading them off for her, so she didn't have to constantly flip back between a half-dozen sheets over and over. "What does the one shaped like a skull mean, again?" asked Lyra. "Well, when it's paired with the asterisk, it means 'great power', while when it meets the eclipse—" Vision stopped in mid-sentence as Lyra dropped the tablet onto the desk with a resounding clunk. The unicorn faced straight ahead, her eyes failing to actually see anything in front of her. "Miss Heartstrings?" asked Vision, cautiously reaching forward. "We have to get this to Twilight, now!" Lyra shouted all of a sudden. "It's a matter of life or death!" Earth, New Avengers Compound Rhodey sat at the table top computer, watching as Friday input all the commands he'd issued to her. On the screen was a display of the War Machine Mark IV armor, created in secret without Tony's knowledge. Boy, convincing the A.I. not to tell the billionaire about that had been a nightmare. If Tony knew, he would've had the thing melted into slag, or at least put into a closet for a few years, and Friday would've spent a few weeks in Tony's recycle bin. No matter how much progress Rhodey made with physical therapy, Tony would never ask him to return as War Machine. He couldn't let it stand. The biggest obstacle to work around was obviously his new physical disabilities. He couldn't walk without the Stark tech bracers on his legs, and even then, it was a strain. Shock absorbers and stabilizing beams in the suit would go a long way to making him walk better, but to minimize the risk, it was better to build up the propulsion systems, and increase the time he could remain flying. That way, he could just float around without actually touching the floor. It was fortunate that Tony had long ago solved the weight to flight systems problems, or he'd be going nowhere. Suddenly, a noise caught his attention. Rhodey was a former soldier, he was trained to be aware of his surroundings. The sound was almost inaudible, the sound of a rubber sole touching a tile floor, right behind him, but he caught it. Snatching up his pistol, Rhodey spun around in his chair, jumping to his feet (ignoring the stab of pain that hit him). "I'm beginning to think I should stop coming back here," said Clint. "Last time, Wanda levitated a cleaver in my face." Rhodey lowered his gun, sighing in relief. "Clint," he started, "what're you doing here? How did you even get in here without setting off the alarms? You know Ross is out for your head." "I snuck in here once before. Not like Tony ever changed the security. And he's out for yours, too," responded the archer. "He just doesn't have the means to legally go for it yet." "He really doesn't like any of us, does he?" asked Rhodey, knowing the answer perfectly well. "Why do you think I'm here?" continued the archer. "Tony and Steve are having a party on a planet of intelligent horses, and they didn't even invite us." Rhodey snorted with laughter. "You really can't help yourself, can you?" he replied. "You can't physically retire." Clint shrugged. "I'll admit, running for my life and killing evil monsters with a bow is kind of addictive." "And becoming a criminal?" Rhodey continued, annoyed. "Breaking the law? Risking Laura and the kids? How addictive is that?" Clint's eyebrows furrowed, as anger crept into his face. "Oh, that's rich," he snapped back, gripping his bow. "How're you doing as the U.N.'s personal attack dogs, by the way? Ross ordered you to execute troublemakers in a third world country yet?" Rhodey intensified his grasp on his pistol, noticing the archer did the same. Clint's arm twitched, threatening to reach for an arrow. Both men looked each other in the eye, daring the other to make the first move. Then they blinked and took a breath, realizing what they'd been approaching. Rhodey relaxed his gun hand, and Clint pressed a button on his bow, collapsing it into it's baton-sized form. "That's not gonna get us anywhere," said Rhodey, laying his gun down on the table. Clint slipped his bow into a specially designed pouch on his hip. "I'm sorry," Clint said, taking one of the chairs. "I know you had your reasons for signing the Accords." "If you hadn't been 'retired,'" Rhodey asked, making air quotes, "would you still have refused?" "Yes," Clint replied, without a hint of hesitation. "Look, I'm not saying we don't need any oversight whatsoever. We're not perfect, but the Accords took things too far." Rhodey sighed. "Ross is a bag of crap, there's no denying that. But the Avengers...we screwed up with Lagos, and especially Sokovia. It's like Natasha said. We need to earn their trust back, then try to get it fixed, hopefully get things back to a better place." Clint looked down at his feet. "I want to believe it would be that easy," he said, "but would it have been?" Neither man had a response. Despite all the debate, despite all the smacking each other around in Germany, they still hadn't reached any sort of consensus. Nobody could agree about the Accords, the thing that tore them apart in the first place. What hope was there for any sort of healing when they still couldn't reach a unanimous decision? "It doesn't matter," says Clint. "What does matter is Steve and Tony. Steve...he's still angry. They're trying to just ignore the problem while they're on that planet. But if they just put it off, and pretend it's not a thing..." "Yeah," Rhodey agreed. "Tony gets this look in his eye whenever Steve gets brought up, like he's gonna punch something just to vent. They can't have that hanging over them while working on a mission, it's gonna drive them crazy. They can't work like that." "And we can't just sit here and do nothing while they try not to kill each other, while simultaneously fighting magical goat-headed people," said Clint. Rhodey smiled. "Glad you share my point-of-view. I have a—" His words were cut off by a massive sound, as something slammed into the windows. The compound's proximity alarm began to blare, red lights flashing from the ceiling. Both men whirled around, Clint yanking an arrow out of his quiver and extending the weapon once more, notching the arrow. Rhodey simultaneously raised his pistol, aiming it at the strange sight. Sitting on the window, his hands and feet gluing him to the glass, was a familiar figure, clad in a red and blue costume, with white eyes. "Uh, is this a bad time?" asked Spider-Man. "I can come back later."