The state of the battle devolved rapidly. The cultists had regrouped and redoubled their effort, but their goal had gone from attacking Cadence’s body to survival alone. Their fight had become far more challenging now that Cadence’s remains could fight them back, and Silken’s synthetic brain was incapable of fatigue. Twilight, likewise, had fully recovered her ability to use magic; even alone, she would have been a force to recon with.
Whether or not they were winning, though, was still in dispute. Twilight knew that she had no viable goal, but she kept it to herself. Mostly, it was now to defend Cadence’s body, but the situation had decayed dangerously. If she was now in a state of all-out war with her Cult, then there was no way she would be able to get back to her ship. Having Cadence animate solved the problem of having to extract a genetic sample- -Twilight could take the whole body with her- -but she still needed to get it back to her lab on Dusk in order to generate the solution to the Mortality Virus. Without a ship, that was impossible.
Then, all at once, the battle seemed to shift. A shudder crossed through the cultists, and they all suddenly changed tactics, moving as though they were coordinated not by individual panic but by one unifying voice. They broke away from their attacks, retreating and separating from their opponents. The windigoes did not pursue, and it had never been the shoggoths intention to pursue. Instead, they began picking the pieces of the battlefield for resources.
Applejack had been standing near Twilight, doing her best to try to kick cultists in the knees. She watched the retreat, uncertain.
“Yeah, you better run!” cried Rainbow Dash, descending from overhead and landing near Applejack. Silken, likewise, teleported to Twilight’s right. A perfunctory look around the scene revealed the fact that Twilight’s other friends were still intact. Starlight’s ghostly form was not far away, a wraith slowly crossing the more empty portions of the battlefield and watching intently with luminescent eyes. Pinkie Pie was bouncing across the wastes at a similar distance, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings and toting a heavy mounted railgun that had been relabeled as a “party cannon”. Fluttershy was cowering under the eve of one of the crashed ship, along with several spider-like machines that Twilight recognized as ejected mech cores. Rarity was not far from Fluttershy, standing under the protection of an exceedingly well-dressed Cult remnus.
“Ha!” said Applejack. “We licked ‘em!”
“Eew!” cried Rainbow Dash, looking disgusted. “Why would you do THAT?”
“It means we beat ‘em. As in, we won.”
“Oh.”
“We didn’t win,” said Twilight. “They’re not retreating.”
She had already guessed their intentions because she knew them, and as she watched the group split and confirmed what she already knew. From the center of them stepped three figures. The one in the center was Light Gloom. On his right stood a tall but strangely stocky mare in heavy Cult armor; on his left walked the remnus Corona Fade, whose unblinking mechanical eyes did not once turn away from Twilight.
They were not far, and when Light Gloom spoke Twilight could hear him clearly. His voice rang clear and loud, but at the same time she heard it transmitted to the implants in her brain by the channel that linked them all.
“What is this?” he demanded, his optics turning independently toward the members of his Cult, who bowed their heads to him. “A battle? A FIGHT? So I see we have devolved into barbarians then. Have we become the Cult of the Holy Mother? To behave this way in the presence of the Goddess herself! We are not soldiers! We are scholars!”
“Light Gloom!” roared Twilight, stepping forward to meet him. Her friends followed her- -although slowly- -and when Twilight stopped ten meters from Light Gloom and his lieutenants, they stopped too.
“Oh my,” said Rarity, her eyes wide. “He certainly is taller than I expected…”
Twilight ignored her. She instead did not take her eyes off her former student. He had not assumed a defensive posture- -or any posture at all- -but Twilight knew better than to assume he was not planning something. Compared to her, he was a child, but he was a child who knew more than enough to be lethal if he so chose.
“Please accept my apologies, Goddess,” said Light Gloom, bowing. Corona Fade did as well, although the large mare did not. “Please forgive us. Our intention was to handle this situation as peacefully as possible.”
“Don’t lie to me, Light Gloom. Not you. You tried to use a dimensional hammer on this planet. Do you even realize the significance of that?”
“I spent a lifetime creating the schematics, researching the device. I found fragments, records that you thought you had destroyed. It is my understanding that you created the first dimensional hammer to defend Equestria. I used it to the same end. Or attempted to.”
“You tried to blow up the planet! With my friends on it!”
“And with you on it. Yes.”
“We gave you the option to leave,” said Corona Fade. “And fair, advanced warning.”
“She does have a point,” said Rarity.
“No she doesn’t!” protested Twilight. She took a step forward. Light Gloom did not step back. “You attacked me! More than once! And you’re not even supposed to be here!”
“You should have taken us with you instead of relying on the Royal Navy.”
“Is that what this is about? You were jealous I didn’t take you? I specifically chose not to. There are things I left on this planet for a reason, things that no pony is supposed to find. If the Cult were to find them, you couldn’t help yourselves you would…” Twilight paused, feeling a strange dread coming over her. “…but you never attempted to recover any artifacts. Or to perform a single study…”
“Much to our regret, you can be sure,” said Light Gloom. “And no. We were not jealous. We have a mission.”
“Which is?”
“The Mortality Virus.”
“Road apples!” swore Applejack, leaping forward.
“Applejack- -”
“No, I’m not just gonna’ stand here and listen to that skinny weirdo yammer on in circles!” She turned to Light Gloom. “I know a thing or two about lyin’, and I can tell that you’re doing an awful lot of that right now.”
“I assure you, miss, I am not.”
“There! You did it again! Because I know for a fact that TWILIGHT’S mission was to find a cure!”
“Yeah!” said Rainbow Dash, jumping forward. “And all you’ve been doing is trying to stop her!”
Light Gloom paused for a moment. “Is that what she told you?”
“Well, of course, because- -” Applejack looked confused, and then looked to Twilight. The instant their eyes met, Applejack knew.
“No,” said Light Gloom, sensing exactly what Applejack was thinking. “She did not lie to you. Not outright. But she bent the truth, the to the point where it is hardly recognizable. Tell me. Did she tell you where the Mortality Virus came from?”
The ponies looked to Twilight. Twilight did not change her expression, and she kept staring at Light Gloom. She had wished that this particular subject would never come up, but some part of her had always known that it would eventually.
“No,” said Twilight curtly. “I did not tell them. Because they do not need to know.”
“Because you did not want them to know that it was your own creation.”
The ponies gasped in unison, save for Silken. Her reaction was by far the most painful. She just looked disappointed- -even though it appeared that she already knew. On some unconscious level, it was possible all remni did.
“Twilight!” said Rarity. “She has to be lying.”
“Yeah!” yelled Pinkie Pie. “Twilight would never- -”
“He is not lying,” said Twilight without a trace of emotion. “The virus was indeed my creation.”
The air hung in silence. What had once been a roaring battle was now empty, save for the sound of a thin and distant wind. Twilight felt the eyes of many on her: friends, allies, those in between- -and it was clear that most either already knew, or had never cared. But the look in five of those sets of eyes carried far more weight than the hundreds of others who looked on in silence.
“But…but why?”
Twilight did not look at any of them. “Because our species was dying. I witnessed its evolution, and I saw ponies rise above their limitations into a Golden Age- -and then I watched as they started to decline.” Twilight sighed. “I saw evolution fail us. Ponies were once strong, and powerful…but those traits were selected against by our lifestyle. Life in space left ponies frail, weak, without magic. Genetic diseases began to form.”
“But the virus makes people sick,” said Applejack. “I’m just a simple farmfilly, but even I know that.”
Fluttershy had approached, holding one of the ejected cores tightly. “Unless something went wrong.”
“It did,” said Twilight. She was still maintaining her neutral expression and tone, even though inside her heart felt like it was burning. “The ‘virus’ is a piece of my own genetic code. A fragment of a pure alicorn. But I wasn’t genetically close enough. I introduced it into the population with the hopes of helping them…but I didn’t foresee what it would do to them.”
“You created mortality,” said the mare that stood next to Light Gloom.
“What you did was not wrong.” Light Gloom, taking a long step forward and meeting Twilight in the center of the two groups. “In a moral sense, at least. Any of us here would have tried to do the same. To save us, and to allow ourselves to progress to the next stage of evolution.”
“Then you are fools.”
“That may be,” said Corona Fade, “but we are attempting to prevent you from making another mistake.”
“The virus is untreatable,” said Light Gloom.
“You’re lying.”
“I’ve done the studies, Twilight.” A tinge of emotion had crept into Light Gloom’s voice. Twilight was not sure what it was, exactly. “The virus has intercalated itself into our genetic code. It worked exactly as you intended. Our genes were removed, replaced with yours. It cannot be removed. To do so would be fatal.” He paused, and then seemed to address the other ponies. “Your friend is a noble and great pony, but her intention was never to cure the virus, as it cannot be cured. The very thing that makes us mortal is what keeps us alive.”
“Then what is this body for?” asked Silken.
“To create a new race. A race of immortals.”
Silken looked to Twilight, and Twilight could not bring herself to look back.
“I hesitate to make demands of you, Goddess,” said Light Gloom. “But I’m afraid I have to.” He raised an armored hoof toward Silken. “Give us that body. We will dispose of it. The remnus brain within will be preserved and given a new, proper body instead of this morbid parody.”
“And us?” asked Fluttershy. “What would you do to us?”
“Nothing at all. You are of no consequence to me, although I do find you intriguing. Especially the white unicorn. We could perhaps be friends one day, if you could forgive my actions. Now that I have seen you in the flesh, I can confirm that you will not affect the Will of the Goddess. You will be allowed to live freely in our Empire with the Goddess, if she so chooses.”
“You seem awfully reasonable for a villain,” said Pinkie Pie.
“Because I am not a villain. And before you ask, I am also not insane.”
“Then you are a hero?” said Twilight, darkly.
“No. Of course not. To be such would be against your teachings. You know me, Twilight. Better than anypony, I think. You know that I am not interested in glory. I do not mind that history will, in time, forget me. But the Empire must persist, and the Will of the Goddess must be answered. Please. Give me that body.”
Twilight sighed, and then looked at her friends one by one until she met Silken. “Well?” she said.
“Well what?” Silken smiled, although it was a sad smile. “It is not my decision to make, I am afraid. If I could, I would choose for you, but I am afraid that this is your choice.”
Twilight stared up at her for a moment, and then looked across the gap to Light Gloom. “I can’t let you take her.”
“You do not have a choice.”
Applejack pushed past Twilight. “I think she does,” she said. “And I think she just made it.”
“Applejack…”
“Yeah!” said Rainbow Dash. “Who do you think you are? You can’t talk to her like that!”
“Worst High Priest ever!” shouted Pinkie Pie.
“I do agree that your request was indeed reasonable,” said Rarity. “And I am flattered by the fact that you find me…ahem… ‘intreguing’, but Twilight has made her choice. A gentlecolt like you ought to respect it.”
“Yeah,” whispered Fluttershy.
“Guys,” said Twilight. “Even after…”
“Don’t care what you did,” said Applejack. “Frankly, I don’t understand it anyway.”
“We all make mistakes, Darling,” said Rarity.
“Yeah!” said Pinkie. “Though, granted, we don’t usually make ones that doom an entire race of ponies to slow decay to an eventual state of complete and utter depopulation that will leave you alone in a dark and empty universe…well, with Celestia and Luna I guess, but otherwise empty…”
Pinkie realized that the others were glaring at her. “Eh heh heh…sorry. Not helping, am I?”
“Then we are at an impasse,” said Light Gloom. “I had hoped not to resort to violence. Please, Twilight Sparkle. I will make one last plea: do not force my hoof.”
“I’m pretty sure we have you outnumbered,” said Rainbow Dash.
Light Gloom looked at her, his optics narrowing. “As I have stated. I am not a barbarian. Open battle is trite and uncivilized, not worthy of the Goddess or her Cult.” His masked face slowly turned toward Twilight. “If we must settle this with force, we will do so in the custom of our mutual ancestors, the unicorns of old.”
“You’re challenging me to a duel,” said Twilight, somewhat incredulous.
Light Gloom nodded. “It was you who taught me our ancient customs and etiquette, was it not?”
“In an academic sense! I never expected you to actually try to use them! I mean, I’m a living god! You might actually be insane…”
“I am not. Are you forfeiting?”
“No. I will accept, as long as you know that you might not come out in once piece.”
“It would not be the first time. And although I cannot compare myself to you, do not disparage your ability to teach. My greatest honor, after all, was to have once been your student.”
“Then I accept.”
“Thank you,” said Light Gloom, bowing deeply. “It I may be candid, this has been a dream of mine since I was a colt.”
The large mare and Corona Fade departed from Light Gloom. Light Gloom removed his coat, revealing the asymmetrical and strange armor he wore underneath. It was covered with intricate runes and thin robotic limbs that were imbedded into his spine. Somehow, he suddenly looked much taller.
The cultists stepped back. They understood what was to happen, and that they were not to take part but only to observe. The windigoes seemed to know this as well, and they had retreated largely to the sky overhead, leaving only their glowing eyes visible. Only Starlight and several of her warrior-mages remained on the ground, near the pair of queen shoggoths. The remaining shoggoths had already started to pull their spoils back underground; many of them had departed.
“Twilight,” said Fluttershy, nervously. “What did you just agree to?”
“A duel,” said Twilight as she removed her aetherite jewelry. She had intended to throw it away- -she could always make more- -but instead gave it to Rarity, who seemed greatly appreciated to be tasked with keeping it safe.
“So cool,” whispered Rainbow Dash.
“There’s nothing cool about a duel,” said Applejack.
“Ha!” said Pinkie Pie. “You- -”
“I know darn well I rhymed, Pinkie, and it doesn’t matter one hoot! Twilight, this isn’t going to solve anything- -”
“Light Gloom and I have a...well, a close relationship,” said Twilight. “If this is what it takes to make sure no pony here gets hurt, then I’m fine with it. But you have to follow the rules.” Her eyes passed over her friends. “None of you can interfere. Not once.”
“Can we cheer?” asked Fluttershy.
“Sure,” said Twilight. “Although I probably won’t hear you.” She paused. “But it would help.”
“You said this was going to be easy,” said Rarity.
“Of course it’s going to be easy!” said Rainbow Dash.
“No. Not against him.” Twilight turned to Silken. “Do you understand me?”
Silken smiled. “Of course I do, Goddess. I personally recommend against this course of action, but you already accepted his invitation. It would be rude to refuse to dance now.”
Twilight found that metaphor odd, but did not protest its use. She allowed Silken and Rarity’s well-dressed friend to take her friends back to where the cultists stood. Whereas before the sides had been fighting, they now stood side-by side. The duty of the battle had been transferred to the leaders of either side. It had been so in ancient times long before Twilight was born, and even before the time of Starswirl the Bearded. Now, at the far edge of time and of pony civilization, the tradition would persist once more.
The pair of ponies met and spaced themselves exactly twenty one paces from one another. They stared at each other for a moment, and then bowed to one another. With their heads still lowered, Applejack lost her grip on Pinkie Pie. She shot upward and screamed to the crowd: “WIZARD FIGHT!!”
With that, the duel commenced. There was no pause. Light Gloom had already prepared his spell mentally and had constructed a miniaturized version of a warp field. He instantly shot forward at several times the speed of sound toward Twilight.
It was indeed a logical plan of attack, and would have made sense if he was facing another pony who used technomagic. The type of spells that technomagic accomplished were assisted by onboard computers, and had an innate delay. It was generally minute or even trivial, but enough that a single rapid strike would be enough to breach an opponent’s defenses before she even had a chance to raise them.
Such was not the case with Twilight, though. Her magic was organic in nature, and did not have a delay associated with its deployment. Twilight responded effortlessly, summoning a number of thin pink-violet columns in Light Gloom’s path. In a bold move, Light Gloom parried, using the impetus he gained off his body slamming into the columns to change direction. The sudden impact against Twilight’s spell resulted in a feedback surge that knocked her off balance.
Now crossing past, Light Gloom summoned several calculation panels and produced a barrage orange projectiles that moved with bizarre and unpredictable trajectories. Or, at least, they would have been bizarre had Twilight not perceived the mathematical root behind them and determined their location. Rather than forming an outright shield- -the type of spell that Light Gloom’s offense had been specifically designed to penetrate- -Twilight absorbed the tail end of the feedback from her failed defensive spell and converted it to a counterspell, performing the interception calculation against Light Gloom’s spell in her head.
The spells met and counteracted one another, annihilating themselves at various points in the interim. There was no feedback against either pony, and they stopped for a moment, pausing. In ancient times, this would have been a place to insert wizardly banter. That was a relic of times when spells took minutes to cast, though, when sorcerers would try to unbalance one another with words instead of magic. In the modern age, neither a god nor a computer-assisted cyborg needed more than milliseconds to recharge before their next cast.
Light Gloom moved forward again, this time relying on his armor’s power assist rather than a distinct spell. As he did, he summoned an orange blade, swirling it around himself in preparation to strike. Twilight, though, was not a fool; in terms of physical strength and speed, Light Gloom far outmatched her. Striking at melee distance would be idiocy, and Light Gloom was no doubt feinting while he prepared a more substantial spell.
Twilight decided to act as he intended her to, if only to see where he was going with this line of reasoning. She fired several bolts of energy, although not strictly destructive ones. They were meant to contain him. This was of course difficult in its own right; the runes he wore made manipulating him challenging without an extremely advanced compensatory formula.
The runes were not Light Gloom’s only defense. He had a counterspell prepared, and rather than annihilating Twilight’s spell entirely he reversed its adhesive nature. He slipped forward, bringing the blade over his head as if to strike. Twilight did not fall for it; she opened a circular heavy shield in time to deflect a forward beam cast from Light Gloom’s body.
The spell was substantially more powerful than Twilight had expected. It was apparent that Light Gloom had paid attention to all of her teachings, and not just those on ancient dueling practices: he had rebuilt his own implants to a unique design, one far more advanced than even the sort commonly found in other members of the Cult. His processing was faster, and his output was much greater.
His spell would have shattered Twilight’s shield, and she was forced to be creative with the counter. Rather than reinforce the shield and risk debilitating feedback, she destabilized it entirely. The resulting unstable structure of the shield spell reacted violently with Light Gloom’s spell, detonating in the air between them.
The result was not ideal. Both ponies were forced back, but Light Gloom was heavily armored. The explosion did little to him, while it knocked Twilight’s breath away and left her with several internal injuries.
Twilight did her best to land gracefully, although she tripped over one of the crystal stumps and nearly fell.
“Come on, Twilight!” cried a voice from the crowd. It was Pinkie Pie’s.
“You can do it!” said Fluttershy very quietly.
Twilight took their cheering to heart, and braced herself. Light Gloom approached her again, moving between the stumps on the ground with surprising grace. That was Twilight’s chance.
She fired a beam. Light Gloom produced a frontal shield, but Twilight had not been targeting him. The beam instead struck one of the crystal stumps and split into several intense pink-violet beams. Several of them were deflected into Light Gloom’s side and pitted into his armor. They did not penetrate, but they were not meant to. Twilight had optimized the spell for knockback.
Light Gloom stumbled to the side, and Twilight spread her wings. With one swift downward stroke, she slid herself through the air forward and upward, magically enhancing her body as she did. With one swift kick, she bucked Light Gloom in the face. She felt some of the more sensitive optics in his mask shatter under her hoof.
She then leapt down before he could strike at her with his power-assisted front hooves. As she did, she spit in his face, transfiguring her saliva into a sticky black tar-like substance with a secondary spell. It struck Light Gloom’s face and spread out across the remainder of his optics, blinding him.
“What?” he cried, stepping back. “Twilight! I never expected such a nontraditional maneuver from you!”
“And I thought I taught you that we fight duels nude,” said Twilight. “Clothes are ALWAYS a disadvantage in a fight like this!”
“Really? I disagree with that statement.”
Twilight struck out with a fine blade of light. She did not know how much of Light Gloom’s body was cybernetic, but she desperately hoped that he had replaced at least his front two legs. Her aim had been to cut him down while he could not see, and had created her spell to compensate against eighty seven of the most common shield morphologies. It was supposed to be a checkmate, but instead of being cut Light Gloom jumped back. Twilight had not expected this; she assumed that he had created a secondary perception spell to counteract his loss of vision.
He began to move backward rapidly before turning and running outright. This, Twilight knew, was a false retreat. She found it odd that Light Gloom would deploy one in this situation; it was normally used to lead an overzealous opponent into a trap. Light Gloom would have known that Twilight would also know that. The alternate explanation was that he was preparing a range attack with a wide effect. The uncertainty put Twilight into an odd position; she could neither pursue too closely or stay still. Instead, she was forced to follow by flying at a cautious distance and attempt to strike with a strafing barrage from above.
Light Gloom managed to dodge several of the attacks, but he absorbed several. The amount of magical force he absorbed was not trivial, and a lesser pony would have at least slowed but more likely have been knocked down entirely. Light Gloom, however, persisted until he reached the smoldering remains of a damaged mech.
Twilight initially suspected that he was heading for cover. In an instant, though, she knew that she had badly miscalculated. The instant Light Gloom struck the scrap robotics, a spell ignited around him. Technomagic reached out from every angle, adhering to parts and severing them from the debris. They were pulled inward and assembled: those that could be connected were welded and fused using magic, and those that could not be found were replaced with technomagic constructs.
In a fraction of a second, Light Gloom had vanished behind a hulking suit of armor. It took a step forward, powered by internal robotics, and the magic that surrounded it began to cut Light Gloom’s personal rune architecture into its surface.
“So,” she said. “You still think clothing is a disadvantage?”
Twilight could not help but smile, and feel a pang of pride. This was astoundingly unorthodox, but the creativity of the maneuver matched Light Gloom perfectly. Even the other cultists seemed to be impressed by it, and Twilight could not help but find herself being glad that they were getting some level of education out of it.
Light Gloom charged forward, firing into the air with a combination of magic and the laser weapons that he had grafted into his exosuit. Twilight felt one of the beams singe her wing, and as much as it smarted the wound was not substantial. She dropped to the ground and rolled to the side, avoiding several magical surges. It seemed that creating the armor and maintaining both its internal power supply and the construct parts of it was affecting both Light Gloom’s processing power and output. His spells had become more simplistic.
He charged quickly, trying to crush Twilight under his metal-clad hooves. Twilight managed to dodge, but only barely. As she did, she cast a spell around herself, forming herself a suit of massless magical armor. Light Gloom pivoted suddenly and struck her; because of the armor, though, she was only thrown back.
Before she had even landed, Twilight engaged the next spell. She felt herself vibrate and shiver, and then suddenly an entire group of her appeared around Light Gloom.
“I know that one!” cried Pinkie Pie. “I’ve DONE that one!”
The horde of Twilight’s leapt onto Light Gloom. He attacked in turn, attempting to destroy the replicas and extract the real one. In truth, though, there were no replicas; they were all the same Twilight, oscillating at an incredible speed. Cross the field, Starlight Glimmer smiled. It was a spell that she had known long ago as well, even before Twilight had.
In his confusion, Light Gloom did not notice that one Twilight had climbed onto his back. The armor was too thick for him to feel her light alicorn body, and he did not notice as she began reconfiguring the internal systems of part of an independent power cell he had picked up.
Eventually, though, his perception charm kicked in. A laser turret reversed suddenly and shot Twilight in the face. She shielded herself, but the beam had been cursed with a secondary magical element. A sharp pain went through her face as she was blinded.
Twilight cried out and felt herself bounce several times across the ground. As she did, she heard several heavy hoofsteps approaching her- -but Light Gloom never reached her. Twilight ducked, covering her head, and felt an explosion wash over her. The blast caught her wings and tilted her over and over again before dropping her hard against the cold ground.
She had received several injuries, one of them magical. Focusing, though, she stood. Any other pony would have been permanently blinded, but her alicorn body was already regenerating. The world was coming back into focus, but slowly. What little sight she had was blurry and dim.
Light Gloom’s mech armor had been completely ruined, but he himself was still functional. Twilight watched as he awkwardly wrenched himself free of the burning and radioactive metal. It was apparent even with her impaired vision that he had been badly injured. One of his front legs had been removed entirely, revealing a partial metal bone. Charred fragments of the limb’s cybernetics hung down uselessly.
“I should have acquiesced to your wisdom,” he said, limping forward. Unlike Twilight, his body would not regenerate, at least not quickly. While one of his front legs had been almost completely removed, it was also clear that one of his rear ones had suffered an injury as well. He was attempting to compensate for it with technomagic, while he was forced to recreate the other entirely as a construct.
Twilight blinked, and more of her vision returned. She smiled. “No, that was actually quite impressive. I want you to know that I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you, Twilight. You have no idea how much that means to me.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, I am outmatched by you. I am sorry.”
“Sorry for- -”
A technomagic spell erupted from Light Gloom’s body. Twilight raised a shield in preparation, but the trajectory of the spell did not bring it to her. Instead, it crossed the empty expanse of the field toward the crowd. More specifically, toward Twilight’s friends.
“NO!” cried Twilight. Without thinking, she reached out with her magic and projected a remote shield just as the nearest of the spells was about to strike Rarity. The spell detonated, but not with force. To her horror, Twilight realized that Light Gloom might very well have just won. Although the superficial program of the spells resembled a sort that would produce a toxic detonation effect, they were just flares. They had been entirely harmless.
A magical beam slammed into Twilight’s side. With her shield extended to be around her friends, she was unable to block it. She smelled the horrible scent of burning fur, and felt the ground slide out from beneath her feet as she was thrown back. Pain radiated through her ribs, and it was followed by numbness. The numbness was bad. It meant that the spell had dug deep, and that its effect was profound.
Then the ground came back. It was a sudden return, and Twilight skidded across it painfully until her back hit a stump. She stopped immediately, lying not far from the friends who she had tried to protect. Looking up, she saw Light Gloom limping toward her.
“You son of a- -”
“Believe me, Goddess,” said Light Gloom, his voice low, “I take no pleasure in having done that. I have indeed sacrificed my honor for victory, and I accept this. But know that they were never in any danger of harm.”
Light Gloom charged a spell. Twilight charged a counterpsell, but whatever Light Gloom had used on her before was interfering with her ability to generate a powerful enough shield. She had enough energy for one, but not one that would prevent a final strike. She had been put in checkmate.
“Twilight!” cried a voice. Cadence’s voice. Twilight looked over her shoulder, and she saw Silken. “Teleport him!”
Twilight instantly understood. She stood up, dragging herself forward and ignoring the pain of doing so. As she did, she changed the nature of her spell, reconfiguring it.
Light Gloom’s spell started to ignite, but Twilight was faster. She engaged a teleportation spell around him. He was not shielded against that type of spell, as he had not expected it. He tried to compensate, but all of his implants were tied into the ongoing spell. He was limited by his computers: he could not cease a spell currently in production, at least not easily.
The space around him erupted with pink-violet light, and then closed inward. His body vanished with a pop as he was teleported away.
Silence fell over the field, save for the sound of Twilight panting. Her mane was messy, and she was sweating despite the cool air. The injury on her side was already healing, and she was exhausted overall.
“What…what did you just do?” asked Rarity.
“I teleported him,” said Twilight. “The fallout…nothing with an organic brain can be teleported in this atmosphere without- -”
An orange surge of energy erupted beside Twilight. She started to turn toward it, confused, but never made it. Her vision erupted with stars as a metal hoof struck the place where her horn intersected with her skull. It was as though there were an explosion in her skull, and all of her conscious thought momentarily stopped. Her legs shook and then went out from beneath her. She collapsed to the ground, defeated.
Twilight attempted to lift her head, but even doing that caused the whole world to spin an waves of nausea to overcome her. Casting any sort of spell was out of the question. A direct horn impact was the simplest, most common, most temporary injury that a unicorn could be subjected to, and yet it had felled her.
She looked up to see Light Gloom approaching her slowly.
“I’ve won,” he said.
“But…you can’t…” muttered Twilight. “Organic brains…the fallout…”
“Yes. I know,” he said. “Nothing with an organic brain can tolerate teleportation in this plant’s atmosphere.”
He reached for his damaged mask, and it began to collapse. The metal folded into itself, pulling it away from his face. As Twilight watched, the mask collapsed into a tiny silver sphere. It was not just the mask, though: Light Gloom’s exposed horn deconstructed along with it.
When the mask was fully collapsed, he threw the tiny sphere away, and looked down at Twilight with a pair of tiny and impassive blue pupils set into a pair of white, artificial eyes. The pony that was looking at Twilight was a remnus.
“Twilight,” said Rainbow Dash. “Look!”
Twilight turned her head. She looked out into the crowd, and saw the rest of the cultists repeating what Light Gloom had just done. Their masks dissolved away from them, condensing into tiny spheres. The removal of each mask revealed an identical face: the faces of a horde of remni.
“I don’t understand,” moaned Twilight. “You…you can’t be…”
“I am,” said Light Gloom, “and we are. We are the terminal endpoint of pony evolution, what millions of years of evolution has led to. What you sought to create.”
“No, Light Gloom…”
“We are the products of the Mortality Virus, which you yourself created. The Will of the Goddess. It was you who gave us birth, who allowed us to come into existence in our more perfect forms. You sought to undo the damage that evolution had done to us, and you succeeded. We are immortal.”
“Remni are not immortal.”
“That is a misconception. Our upper limit is purely a psychological one. All of those here have overcome it. We have no upper limit to age. Our bodies are machines. We are perpetual, and will persist for eternity. We are what you wanted.”
Twilight struggled to stand up. Light Gloom extended a hoof to her, and she took it. Twilight did not attempt to cast a spell; the duel was over, and she had lost.
“Light Gloom,” said Twilight, feeling herself starting to cry. “You were so young…”
“My strain was especially virulent,” he said. “I never saw my three hundredth birthday.”
“I’m sorry. Light Gloom, I’m so sorry.”
Light Gloom shook his head. “Don’t be sorry, Twilight. I love you. You know that. As a mother, as a lover, as a god. You are my life, and you always have been, and forever will be.” He paused, and for a moment looked pained. He gestured to himself. “I can’t…I just can’t accept that you would do this…not without a purpose! That this is not the Will of the Goddess!”
Twilight said nothing at first. “That is why you wanted Cadence’s body.”
“If you succeeded, you would have created a new race of organic immortals contrary to our synthetic race. It is our mutual conclusion that WE are the future. War would be inevitable with those you create. Or we would watch as evolution fails them as it did us. I know not which.” He sighed. “I cannot allow either to occur. The Mortality Virus must run its course. Ponykind must be allowed to die, so that those who remain can progress to an eternal afterlife in your image.”
Twilight stared up at him, and he looked down at her. She had never seen a pony look so sad. Without hesitating, she hugged him. He resisted for a moment, but then lowered his long neck against her shoulder. They did not exchange words for a long time.
They were only interrupted by the sound of the atmosphere shaking. Both knew what it was, as both could recognize the feeling. Twilight was not sure what Light Gloom’s life had become, and what it truly felt like to live in a body that had been built of metal and machinery in a laboratory, but she knew that he recognized the hum of a ship descending through the atmosphere. She could tell because his grip on her tightened.
The ship came, descending from overhead through the storm with ease. It descended over what had before been a battlefield before finally hovering over the whole where the marker to Cadence and Shining Armor’s tomb had once stood. Its surface looked like that of a Royal Navy ship, and it bore the markings of one- -yet it had a more convoluted shape that indicated that far more than its aetherite skeleton sat beneath that surface. The few shoggoths that remained stared at it greedily, although none of them dared attack.
Several translucent orange circles appeared over the front of the ship. It was raising technomagic spells.
“Goddess,” crackled a voice, coming through the tiny amount of morphiplasm that Twilight still wore. Twilight recognized the voice; although it came from a different mouth than it had before, it had the same obsolete accent that its owner had carried since her childhood in a now extinct megastructure. “We are prepared to attack at your order. And I would so very much like to attack.”
“Hold,” said Twilight. “Not yet.”
The captain obeyed. Light Gloom stared up at the hovering ship for a long moment, looking at the spells that it had pointed at him and his comrades.
“So the duel had no meaning after all,” he said. “You have gained leverage that you did not have before.” He paused, and then looked at Twilight. He had died a young stallion- -a colt, even- -and his new form had left him eternally young- -and yet his eyes seemed to have so much age within them. “So what is your course now? Now that you know our purpose, will you still attempt to forge a new pony race?”
“Light Gloom…I can’t let you take Cadence.”
Light Gloom’s expression fell. “So you intend to breed immortals.”
Twilight sighed. “If you had asked me that before, when I hadn’t come here yet, I would have said yes. I wouldn’t even have hesitated.” Twilight walked to the nearby edge of the crowd where her friends had been standing. They left the edge where they stood beside the undead cultists and joined Twilight.
“I thought,” continued Twilight, “that there was no point in having friends if they would not live as long as I did. That the fact that they would leave me eventually meant that there was no point in opening myself to them in the first place. That the pain outweighed any good that can come from it.” Still standing by her friends, she turned back toward Light Gloom. “But I was wrong. It doesn’t matter if someone can’t be with you forever. You can’t change fate. But what matters is that you understand how important the time you have really is, and just how important every minute is.” She turned back to her friends. “I almost made the mistake of forgetting that, and I almost lost so much.”
“Twilight…”
The group of them leaned inward, and hugged one another softly. As they did, a strange glow began to form around them. The air sparked, but a light seemed to come from within each of them. Twilight felt warm inside for the first time in a long time, and in that moment truly realized the fool she had been for so very long.
Twilight was not the only one who saw this glow. Light Gloom did as well, and although he could not comprehend its meaning he understood that it was magic. His life as a pony had been short, but his existence as a remnus long. He had learned nearly every type of ancient spell that had once existed, painstakingly designing the programs for them so that they could be replicated with technomagic. It was a basic tenant of the word that all magic could be broken down into sterile mathematical subunits no different from any other natural scientific principal.
This, though, he did not understand. In all his studies, he had not encountered records of such a form of magic. If it had existed before in the universe, it had done so long before the history that he was aware of.
He watched as Twilight and her friends rose into the air. Three of them had wings, but that was not what lifted them. The magic grew more intense, and Light Gloom recoiled, not understanding.
“What are you doing?!” he cried.
“I understand,” said Twilight, her eyes distant and glowing with internal light. She turned herself slowly toward where the remnus Silken Dream stood in the body of the Lost Princess Cadence. “I know what I can do.”
A beam of energy came from the six ponies, reaching out and striking the second alicorn. Silken bent and took a step back as though she were struck, but held herself in place. Then she raised her head and looked to the sky as the light began to glow brightly around her.
At this point, Light Gloom understood. Where this powerful magic was coming from remained a mystery- -Twilight’s horn was still damaged, and none of the others had the capacity to cast something of such great force- -but he could comprehend part of the spell. It was merging with Cadence’s genetic code, replicating it into a single magical signal.
“NO!” he cried. “I won’t let you!” He charged every implant he had left, forcing all of the technomagic he could muster around the seven ponies. He created every sort of protection spell he could manage, including several that his body was not rated for. His primary reactor was pushed to critical, and his implants strained and burned inside his body.
“Please,” said Twilight. “Light Gloom. Don’t try to stop me.”
“I’m sorry,” said Light Gloom. “I have to try…”
Twilight sighed, and then closed her eyes. When she opened them, the light exploded from within her and her friends with an intensity tens of thousands of times brighter than Light Gloom had through possible. He screamed as every one of his spells shattered and his body was torn apart from the overload. As every implant he had burned and melted within him, he realized that no magic he could ever summon would have been even close to what Twilight now wielded.
The beam from the Six intensified, and shot toward Silken. Silken braced, and absorbed the beam. Then it shot upward from her, into Equestria’s sky, a rainbow of pure magic, one that had come into existence for the first time in half a million years but that every pony present somehow found familiar.
Across the field, Starlight Glimmer watched the rainbow wave lift into the sky. She stared at it for just a moment, basking in its glow. She then smiled, and in an instant was gone. Her mission had finally been completed.
The beam propagated across space, reaching out to every pony who had come to inhabit the far reaches of the universe. Distance had no meaning to the magic, and it reached them with ease: a small fraction of the beam traveled to each and every one of them. Those that inhabited the remains of now mostly empty megastructures; those who plumbed the dark void in starships, or those who waited on lonely and distant colonies; those still alive who stood in each of the Four Great Cults; even the crew of the Prodijila, including Heliotrope and Golden Star: they all welcomed the light into themselves. Not one of them resisted it, because they understood what it was. It struck each of them, filling them with warmth that all of them felt as though they could almost remember.
They held onto this glow even after the beam left them, departing as quickly as it had come. Twilight and her friends floated back to the ground below, and the light around them faded. Each of them smiled, and Pinkie Pie giggled.
“I missed that,” she said.
“So did I,” sighed Twilight. “I had almost forgotten…”
She turned slowly to where Light Gloom lay. His body had been ruined, but enough of his core components remained to allow him to attempt to crawl forward. As he did, his one functional eye swiveled toward Twilight and he spoke without moving his mouth.
“What have you done? Goddess, please, I have to know…”
“Like you said. I couldn’t reverse the Mortality Virus. But I needed to try to fix my mistake. I had to use a different way. One that I hadn’t realized before.”
“The immortal race- -”
“There is no immortal race,” said Twilight. “Ponies are still infected. They will still live their lives and, one day, they will each die.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I could only make a small change.” Twilight smiled to Silken, who approached slowly. “I copied the one element that Cadence had that the rest of the Tribunal didn’t. I gave them back their ability to have children.”
Light Gloom stared in disbelief, although Twilight saw his pupil dilate in confusion. “You what?”
“I told you.” Twilight smiled. “You always were a poor listener.”
“But that means…”
“It means that they have a chance to try again. I don’t know if evolution will take them in the direction I want it too, but I don’t think that it’s my right to control that. I don’t think it ever was. I gave them a second chance.”
“But more are born,” said Light Gloom. “And more will die. And many of those will become remni, like us. Our race cannot breed, but you have ensured that our numbers will now grow for as long as ponies remain.”
“I did,” said Twilight. “I said that I didn’t think that remni alone were the future, but not that they shouldn’t exist.” She leaned on Silken. “I think that we should coexist. I thought you would like this compromise.”
“I do,” said Light Gloom. “I am so very happy. And so very sorry. That I did not trust you. And…”
“You don’t need to apologize.” Twilight smiled. “We all make mistakes.”
“But now we do not need to fight,” said Silken, also smiling. “It is all over.”
Light Gloom’s eye turned to the ground, unable to meet Twilight’s or Silken’s. “If only that were the case…”
Before Twilight could ask what he meant, a pony stepped from the crowd. After a moment, Twilight recognized her as the mare who had stood at Light Gloom’s side. She was the only one among them who had not removed her mask.
Twilight frowned. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“The amount of planning this took,” said the mare. “Do you know how much effort you have sacrificed, Twilight Sparkle? How much damage you have just done?”
Twilight was taken aback. “Damage? What are you talking about?”
“It is over,” said Silken, clearly growing agitated. “There is no reason to fight anymore.”
“I do not fight,” said the mare. “I achieve victory.”
Twilight took a step forward, even though Silken tried to stop her. “No,” she said, pushing Silken’s hoof aside. “I get it. If this one wants to fight me, let her. It won’t even be a duel.”
“No,” said the mare. “It won’t be.”
Twilight sighed and raised her horn. She produced a potent stunning spell, designed to be hearty enough to cut through whatever hastily constructed technomagic this mare used and whatever runes her armor might have contained. She was quite clearly not as powerful as Light Gloom; in all probability, no mortal pony probably was. With alicorn magic, defeating her would be simple.
The spell flew from Twilight’s horn, but the mare did not summon her technomagic. Instead, she lowered her head. The very tip of her long horn ignited with blinding white light.
Twilight barely had time to raise a shield bubble around herself and Light Gloom. Silken, fortunately, had a faster reaction speed; she summoned a shield not only around herself but around Twilight’s friends as well, protecting them from the outpouring of magical energy. It was a blinding explosion, but in her horror Twilight realized that it was not even a proper spell. The energy that surrounded her was chaotic and unbound by any limitations: it was pure and undifferentiated solar energy.
The light was blinding, but through the near opacity of her shield and her darkened morphiplasm visor, Twilight was able to see the pony standing before her. Despite the intense heat, the mare had not collapsed or withered. Instead, the armor she wore had burned and melted away to reveal the glorious pony beneath. She was tall, but thicker bodied than modern alicorns, and her body was pure white. She stared forward with violet irises not too different in color from Cadence’s, and her mane and tail seemed to pour out of her damaged armor like plumes of green, purple, pink and gold. Underneath the now ruined Cult armor, she wore a much thinner suit that Twilight knew had been carved from the core of a neutron star, the very heart of a dead sun.
The atomic plasma that surrounded Celestia slowly faded as she stepped across the burned ground with a level of grace that no mortal alicorn or remnus could ever match. She spread her enormous white wings, pushing away the last remnants of the charred armor she had worn before. Twilight stared in awe; even though she had known Celestia for her entire life, the Elder Alicorn never cased to amaze her.
“Celestia,” said Twilight, resisting the urge to bow. She lowered her shield, and immediately felt the extreme heat from the cooked ground around her.
“Twilight,” said Celestia. She appeared glad to see the pony who was once her student but now her peer, although Twilight sensed subtle disappointment in her eyes. Celestia turned her gaze to Twilight’s friends, and Silken lowered the blue shield that surrounded them.
“Princess,” said Applejack as the group bowed.
“Applejack. Rainbow Dash. Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy.” Celestia smiled. “I had never in my wildest dreams thought that I would see your faces again. I won’t ask what brought you back to us. It just makes you glad to see you with Twilight once again.”
Twilight looked down at Light Gloom. “You knew.”
He struggled to nod with his skeletal neck. “I did not act alone,” he said. “Nor does she share my ideology. Or the ideology I had. But the means toward our goals were equivalent. There is…more than one Will of the Goddess.”
Twilight stiffened. She instantly understood the implications of what Light Gloom meant.
“Of course, his ‘ideology’- -as he puts it- -was doomed to failure,” said Celestia. Light Gloom looked at her, and Twilight saw the betrayal in his eye. “Please. The idea of remni inheriting the role ponies once played? Impossible. As many as there are, they cannot breed. They would have been a terminal point in pony history, but not in the way he intended. They would have existed to die out in time, and leave the universe empty.” Celestia paused. “That was what they were intended to do, anyway.”
“You gave him the schematics to build the dimensional hammer,” whispered Twilight.
Celesita laughed. “Oh, no, Twilight. I gave him what information I could, but you know that technology was never my strong suit.”
Twilight glared at her, but she only smiled maddeningly in return. “You were on that ship! You let him fire that- -that abomination!”
“Of course.”
“You would have destroyed Equestria!”
“That was my intention.”
Twilight’s anger caught in her throat. It had been stifled by disbelief. Celestia’s smile faded, and she sighed.
“As the machine stated,” she said, “We had different ends. His were doomed to failure, but mine were imperative. So I gave him what support I could. Told him of this mission, brought him here. So that he could do what I needed to have done.”
“But…but why?”
Celestia paused. “Thirteen times,” she said at last. “That is the number of times we have tried and failed to create a perfect civilization. Equestria was the most recent. But you know the others. ‘Alien’ civilizations found out amongst the suns that I once ruled. Although I must be honest. Ponies performed far greater than any of our previous attempts, and Equestria progressed farther than any before it. But a failure is a failure.”
“Celestia, I don’t understand!”
Celestia’s eyes narrowed. “Look around you! This civilization came farther than any other, but it in time faded. As they always do. The population had become mortal, sterile. The ‘dominant race’ was to become machines that would fail and collapse within ten millennia.” She turned to Light Gloom. “If, of course, I had not chosen to purge you as is. I find it so very difficult to harm my subjects, but removing the undead is not an issue for me.”
“I should have seen it before,” said Light Gloom. “I never should have listened to you. You’re a monster.”
“I am a god,” said Celestia. “Extermination of mortals is my duty, as it was twelve times before.”
“Celestia…”
“The time of Setting is coming, Twilight,” said Celestia, more softly. “My power is at its zenith, and my memory of so many billions of years returning intact. Soon, we will Set and await the Rise into a new world. Our bodies will be restored anew, and we shall walk the earth fresh and young. And from there, we will create the fourteenth civilization.”
“The fourteenth civilization already exists!” snapped Twilight. She trotted forward angrily, directly confronting her former teacher. There were a few gasps from the cultists who watched with rapt attention. “Did you stop to look at this planet at all?” Twilight pointed her hoof out at the far ends of the battlefield, where the shoggoth queens stood beside the windigo mages. “Civilization is already returning to this planet! Did you even stop to think about that?!”
Celestia’s expression remained neutral. If anything, it was the same look of maddening disapproval that she had long ago given Twilight when she complained that a simple spell was ‘impossible’ or when she appeared in class tired and bleary from having read books all through the night. “I did not know because I did not look. It makes it easier.”
“Easier- -Celestia! There are creatures on this planet, that can build- -”
“All I see are failed clones and ghosts,” interrupted Celestia. “And yes. The windigoes may have evolved to a level of sentience where they could provide the next civilization. But they are not part of our plan. We did not make allotments for them as a civilization after the Rise.”
“That doesn’t mean you should destroy them!”
“Twilight,” said Celestia, putting her long hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. It felt warm. “You are young. A product of this cycle. I had never even dreamed that a creature like you could come into existence. You are indeed this cycle’s greatest success.”
“Then explain it to me. Why? Why would you hurt them?”
“It isn’t about hurting them. We have tried before, to allow a civilization to rise while we sleep. But without our guidance, the cycle merges with the next one. It becomes uncontrollable…and then catastrophic. Even the slightest remainder. The creature that you once called ‘Discord’ was a remnant of the Fourth Cycle, and he nearly unraveled this cycle early on, before we had fully Risen.”
“You were going to let ponies die out,” said Twilight, her voice wavering as she took a large step away. “And you were going to burn Equestria…so that whatever comes next couldn’t find what was left behind here…”
“How long would it be until the windigoes found a way to understand the technology buried on this planet? The dimensional hammers, perhaps, or even worse. And what would they do when they meet our new civilization? Twilight, please.” Celestia paused. “We are simply clearing the blackboard,” she said, using an analogy. “This picture has faded. It is time to make a new one.”
“And if I don’t let you?”
Celestia frowned. “Don’t be a fool, Twilight. Don’t stand in my way. You are a sister to me, as Luna is, and as Cadence was…and perhaps is again.”
“I’m not letting you hurt this planet.” Twilight felt a set of presences around her, and saw her friends moving to stand beside her. From above, she felt several windigoes land on the ground and walk noiselessly to a cautious distance from Celestia. What few shoggoths remained stood beside them. After a long pause, the Cultists themselves turned toward Celestia, and Twilight felt a slight shift in the air as they prepared to summon various spells. All of them must have known it would be a losing battle, but none of them seemed to care. They stood beside their Goddess.
“There are so many things of beauty here,” said Rarity. “Even if some are frightening or seem grotesque, this planet still has so much to offer!”
“There are still so many animals,” said Fluttershy.
“And the land’s still green,” said Applejack. “Even if what’s growing on it is a little different.”
“The skies are still open,” said Rainbow Dash. She pointed over her shoulder at the windigoes. “And we have ponies here to ride the storm.”
“And we’ve got all these guys!” said Pinkie Pie, hugging a cultist’s front legs. “And they’re not so bad! Even if I have absolutely no idea how to tell ANY of them apart!”
“I abandoned Equestria once,” said Twilight. “And I’m not going to do it again!”
“You would challenge me over this, Twilight?”
“I would,” said Twilight. “And I will fight you, as much as I don’t want to. Like you said. You are family to me. But these are my friends. I can’t let you hurt them, and that’s final.”
Celestia stared at Twilight for a long time, thinking. For a time, Twilight thought that she was preparing to attack, and that there would indeed be a battle- -one that she was not sure she could win. But instead of producing a barrage of divine energy, Celestia spoke.
“There will be a condition,” she said.
“Name it.”
“Neither of you will Set.”
“Neither of us?”
Celestia nodded. “You, Twilight, will rule the ponies of the Exodus in my and my sister’s place. Shepard them, care for them. Let their race die if it must, and let it flourish again if it can. So that they can be at peace with my new civilization when the time comes.” She turned to Silken. “And you. The remnus Silken Dream, in the body of Cadence. You surely understand the responsibility you took on when you accepted that body.”
“I do,” said Silken.
“Although you were not born one of us, you will function as a pure alicorn. I task you with protecting the body of my niece, and will allow this so long as you swear to rule alongside Twilight. You will watch over this planet. While Twilight guides its elder children, you will raise the younger. Teach them what they can learn, and ensure that ponies never again return to this world to plunder its secrets. They had their chance, and they failed Equestria. It is time to put it in new hooves.”
“I cannot manage such a task alone.”
“Then you may build a force of remni who choose to join you, if you must. A Cult of the Lost Goddess. A cult of the dead. Let this world become ponykind’s necropolis. I do not believe this world’s races will ever join Twilight in the stars, but if they do, ensure that they are ready.”
Silken seemed to think for a moment, and then bowed deeply. “I accept this task. I shall assume the role of Princess if it means that this world can be safeguarded, and that the friends I have been allowed to make here may persist.”
“And you, Twilight?” asked Celestia. “Will you accept my proposition? Do not decide too quickly. If you choose not to Set, you will be cursed to bear the memories of immortality in full. They will not fade with every cycle and return slowly, as mine or Luna’s do. You will be cursed with the agony of ages.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” said Twilight. “But immortality isn’t just pain and darkness. I have friends now, and I will make more. Forever, across time.” She paused. “I intend to make sure that I have far more good memories than bad ones. And I don’t want to lose those anyway. So yes. I accept.”
Celestia smiled, and it was the soft smile that Twilight remembered from long ago. “I thought I wouldn’t be able to change your mind. Now I can Set knowing that the universe is in good hooves. When we Rise again, both myself and Luna will be curious to see what you have created in our absence. And perhaps together the thirteenth and fourteenth cycles will succeed where the others failed.”
The Prodijila had landed, extending long landing struts to support itself as the failing engines powered down. Although whole, its engine core was badly damaged. It had taken all of its power to land. Almost as soon as it had, though, the cultists had swarmed it. Light Gloom had declared it impossible to repair, but they intended to prove him wrong.
Twilight had stood and watched as a long ramp had descended from the ship. Two remni, now painted white, had descended with two ponies who walked shakily in suits of morphiplasm. The remni had been the captain of the ship and the sensor pony known as Inky Nebula; the pair of frightened looking living alicorns were Heliotrope and Golden Star. Those two became the first mortal, living ponies to set hoof on Equestria in countless millennia. The wonderment in their eyes was clear, but it was also clear that this planet was no longer meant for them. Without the power assists and gravity support in their suits, they would have collapsed under the gravity. Neither could breathe the air, and even the dim light was too bright for them.
While Twilight led her friends to greet them, Silken approached Light Gloom, who had been left alone. His body had partially regenerated, and while he still had a long way to go before he was whole again, he was able to look up at her and speak clearly.
“What am I to do now?” he asked.
“Some of your comrades have chosen to return with Twilight,” said Silken, staring out at the ship and her friends. “Others have chosen to stay here with me. Supposedly I am to have my own Cult. Or, rather, Cadence is to have a new Cult. I suppose that makes me a High Priestess, then?”
“I see,” said Light Gloom. His eyes looked out toward Twilight. “But that does not answer the question. I do not know what I am to do.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Want?” Light Gloom looked up at Silken. “I…I don’t know. It is hard for a remnus to answer that question.”
“I know,” said Silken.
Light Gloom sighed. “I betrayed the trust of my Goddess in the name of her Will. I was a fool, and she accomplished my task without any of the sacrifices I was prepared to make. She will not forgive me.”
“Do you really believe that?”
Light Gloom thought a moment. “No,” he said at last. “But I fear that there is no place for me on Dusk. My fraction of the Cult will no longer mesh with the living members, not well. It is best, I think, to let the new Cult remni start anew. Without my interference.”
“But where does that leave you?”
“My quandary exactly.”
Silken reached down and took Light Gloom by the hoof. With a great deal of effort- -she was much weaker in Cadence’s body than she was in her own- -she helped him to his hooves. He stood shakily, and Silken looked up into his large eyes. She smiled. “I would not mind if you would stay here with me.”
“With you?”
“I will be the High Priestess of the Cult of the Lost Goddess. But I would like to have a Prefect beside me.”
“And you would accept me in such a role?”
“Of course. I have learned so much since I came here, but the most important…” she looked out into the distance, where some cultists stood attempting to communicate with shoggoths or scrawling spells through the air to speak to windigoes. The ship was nearly repaired, and Twilight would soon depart with the five she loved most dearly at her side, “…is to have friends.”
“Friends…” said Light Gloom. He looked at Silken “I think I would like that.”