Matryona returned about the time Gerardo finished narrating to Shinespark the events of the first day, a tray of fruit balanced on her back. It was a good point to break, and conveniently where he had been interrupted the first time, meaning both Sosans were on the same page.
It also meant Sharpie was even more unhappy than usual, being forced to sit through the long, tangentially-relevant details of Gerardo's tale for the second time in one hour. She sat, slumped, and only marginally lifted her ears above folded when Matryona set her tray down, indicating with a wing that everyone could eat. Wordlessly, she took a melon slice and bit down, taking care to avoid dribbling juices.
Shinespark opened her mouth to say something... then stopped herself, before turning and tilting her head at Sharpie. "You know... as fun as this story is and as long as it's taking to get to the point... what's your part in it? You haven't said a word all night, and look even more miserable than the ponies I'm regularly saddled with cheering up."
"I don't know," Sharpie grumbled around a mouthful of melon. Swallowing, she added, "I was there when we saw the bombs. Neither of us knew how easy it would be to talk to someone important, and I wanted to pretend my job actually had any influence."
"Hold on a moment," Gerardo interrupted. "Was I not still telling my tale? This is rather urgent, as you are no doubt well-"
A blue aura gently clamped his beak shut, and Shinespark raised an eyebrow. "You said until tomorrow night, and if it was that important you'd get to the point faster. You've had your share of the conversation, now let me do what I need to do. I'll hear you out in a moment."
As Gerardo lifted a talon in futile protest, she turned back to Sharpie. "So, it sounds like you're not very happy with your job."
"You think?" Sharpie glared. "You said you know who I am. You should know what I've been accusing your district of. Is this seriously the best time to talk about why we shouldn't be on the same side?"
Shinespark sighed. "Yes, I do know. I'm sorry it worked out that way, and never intended anything personal."
"You never..." Sharpie faltered. "Are you saying this is your fault? To my face? Are you trying to taunt me?"
"Assigning fault isn't useful," Shinespark said with a shrug. "You're trying to track the money from the Defense Force weapon contract, right? Trying to keep things accountable, make them make sense?" She shook her head. "Ironridge doesn't work that way any more, for anyone. It's all about who can hide the most and outplay everyone else, now. The only thing to blame is everything at once, for having fallen so far... or else the past, since trying to do things the way they once worked isn't working. But yes, I do know where each and every gem of that money is going."
Sharpie sat back, looking dazed. "What?"
"Here's a different question." Shinespark straightened her back, then paused to drink deeply from a jug. "If you could have one wish and get it granted... anything at all... what would it be?"
"One wish?" Sharpie's eyes narrowed around her slice of fruit. "Why should I tell you that?"
Shinespark shrugged. "I'm good at granting wishes."
No response, save for the squelching of the melon slice against Sharpie's jaw.
"...I can guess," Shinespark offered after a while. "You want what you do to matter."
Sharpie's eyes widened slightly. She didn't need to ask how the unicorn knew.
"It's because that's what every pony wants," Shinespark answered, standing up and pushing her chair back. "When the world is so chaotic and you can't put logic to the things you see happening, when you're out of control and can't see the difference you make. I've seen it time and again across countless Sosans who can't understand why or how their world moved on from something that worked for them, and you're no different. You want Ironridge's money to make sense, because it used to... don't you?"
"...And?" Sharpie glared protectively, wary that Shinespark would probe open wounds.
"And I can give you a choice. One where the options are exactly what they look like, where if you say yes it will be your decision and not a product of chance, and will lead to your own impact on your life. Can I?"
Sharpie hesitated. "Go on..."
"Tonight," Shinespark said. "There's a way out of the city that leaves tonight... very soon, in fact. It goes somewhere where there are no sides working against one another, where there is no poverty, where the world is small enough that anything you do can make a difference for everyone. It's a haven, built for ponies who never wanted to play by Ironridge's new rules and would lose whether they played or not. There are a few rules to follow to keep it that way. You can decide if it's worth it."
Sharpie blinked. "I was already going to buy tickets on whatever airship goes as far away from here as possible first thing in the morning. I'm not broke."
"In that case..." Shinespark clenched and unclenched her muscles. "Thank you. For coming here to warn us about what you found, even though someone else was too, and even though you don't trust us or like us or think your word will amount to anything. It... means something."
"What does it mean?" Sharpie's ears were flat.
"It means you hadn't given up." Shinespark turned away, speaking into the corner where her armor sat on a pedestal. "Just because you try to make something better doesn't mean you're guaranteed to succeed. But when you stop trying, then you're guaranteed to fail, and when you stop even believing success is possible you won't know what to do with a better world even when it some day arrives. That's what I do. Some day, I'm going to fix all of Ironridge and make everything right... some day soon. But until then, my job is to keep the ponies' hope alive at all costs, so that when things do get better, it matters."
She turned back, sapphire eyes shining. "That's what it means. It means one more pony... you... were ready and waiting. So thank you."
The silence held for nearly a minute... and then Sharpie said, "That's your way of telling me thank you very much, I'm no longer needed, isn't it?"
Shinespark's smile faltered. "I meant every word of it," she corrected. "But if that's your way of asking if you can go..." She looked up at the ceiling, and sighed. "It's night out, isn't it? The Steel District isn't a residential district, but I've furnished this place with quite a few sleeping chambers, and tried to make them as nice as possible. Both of you are welcome to stay the night here, if you please. You can stay and talk as long as you want, or turn in whenever you like."
"I'm staying here until we're done talking," Sharpie said flatly. "I did not come all this way to go to bed and let someone else do everything on their own."
"Okay!" Shinespark relented, suddenly cheery. Flipping back into her chair, she made herself comfortable, and said, "Well, that's what I wanted to say. Gerardo, feel free to continue, and don't skip anything important or worry about the time." She nodded at a wall clock. "I take a lot of naps, so can be up until whenever."
Instantly, Sharpie shot a disgruntled hoof out. "Actually, I think I might just go to bed..."
With a straight face that might have been practiced, Shinespark nodded at Matryona. "Hey, mom? Could you...?"
"Of course." Matryona nodded in turn, getting up and proceeding to the door. "Please, come with me."
A minute later, the door creaked shut, both pegasi having vanished behind, leaving Gerardo and Shinespark alone in the conference room. The griffon drummed his talons. "If I'm correct in seeing what you did there, that was quite devious."
Shinespark shrugged in return. "Well, she wasn't wrong. I've had to hold my tongue about sensitive topics one too many times tonight and had to do something about her. Still, I meant what I said."
"Topics like Riverfall," Gerardo added.
"Like Riverfall..." Shinespark sighed. "Yes..." She opened her eyes. "Thanks for being so long-winded there, by the way. It turned out the threat of a rambling griffon was the perfect card for that situation. Though, now that it's just us... maybe you could skip to the important parts? I already know a lot more than you think."
"Thanks for being long-winded..." Gerardo muttered. "Well, I can't say that's a phrase I usually hear as a compliment, but I'm glad to finally take it as such! Now, where was I...?"