Olivia had enough hardware to kill an army of primitives. How she had brought it all here, she didn’t well understand, but in many ways, that didn’t matter. Mounted guns, automatic repeating rifles, IFF-drawn seeking grenades. Everything the new Forerunner refused to make for her, the old one had fabricated in great quantity.
And yet…
She could’ve killed this army thrice over. There was no strategy to the way they attacked the castle, no order in their lines. They surged in through every opening all at the same time. Maybe they thought there was an enemy force inside—certainly her weapons were loud enough to imply something like that.
If Olivia knew a dangerous enemy was trapped inside a place like this, her response would’ve depended on the circumstances. If the area was somewhere densely populated, where she could not afford civilian casualties, she would’ve sent in a small, skilled team. If it were out in the wilderness like this, she would’ve surrounded the place and shelled it until it was rubble and broken bones.
The ponies had not done either, and so they were easy targets.
Even so, she could not bring herself to kill them. Well, not intentionally. She had used landmines in places, and those would probably kill a creature like a pony with its important parts all low to the ground. There were other traps that might be lethal, and there was no way of knowing for sure what might happen when you shot someone, no matter how good your aim was.
There was no reason to be cautious, was there? She wasn’t being mind-controlled this time, she was sure about that.
There were some weapons she hadn’t used yet—she could’ve shelled the army outside, the one pressing in and choking on itself as ponies passed the wounded backing out. But she didn’t. She could’ve told the IFF-seeking turrets to shoot for their heads instead of the glittering armor they wore. But she didn’t. It didn’t seem right.
These men aren’t my enemy. Celestia is. Plenty of them would die today—otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to draw out the tyrant. To her surprise and a little relief, Princess Twilight had not come in herself. Olivia didn’t much want to kill the pony who had tried to be understanding once Olivia was captured. Her magic was probably the reason Olivia hadn’t just died to begin with. But she would forgive that.
She could see the moment when the attack stopped. Instead of pushing further into the castle, soldiers dropped their shields, dropped their spears, and ran. Olivia switched everything off immediately, though such a foolish retreat would have made it easy to pick the rest of them off. I’m not here to do that. I only want her.
Princess Twilight stood on the other side of the bridge, sheltering the soldiers as they made their retreat the way they’d come. An entirely pointless gesture, as she was not firing at them. Several carried stretchers, though Olivia didn’t look too closely to see what condition the ponies might be in who rode them. She didn’t really want to know.
This isn’t my war. This is hers.
Only when all the soldiers were gone did Twilight cross the bridge again. Several ponies joined her—Olivia didn’t recognize any of them, though they seemed close. Five in total, adult mares with a wariness and determination to them many of the soldiers had lacked.
Twilight stood out in front, and her voice boomed through the castle.
Unfortunately for Olivia, her Eoch wasn’t good enough to understand. She had a few speakers hidden in the castle she could use to reply, but what would she say? The helmet was still in the basement, protected by the most devious traps yet. The ones she hoped would bring down the castle on Princess Celestia. Not wearing it, Olivia had no way of understanding what the ponies had to say.
“Princess Celestia,” Olivia said over the radio, speaking as slowly and clearly as she could. “I… want… Princess Celestia.” It was Eoch, or at least close enough to Eoch that she was sure they would be able to understand her. She watched all six of them stop, looking confused. They argued, though Olivia couldn’t hear what they had to say.
Then, mercifully, they turned away. They crossed the bridge, and stopped on its other side, settling down to wait. Well, five did. The blue one took straight into the air, and darted off so fast it nearly knocked a nearby crow right out of the air. The poor bird squawked in protest, righting itself angrily and gliding away.
That’s right. Go get the princess. I don’t want to hurt you or your friends, Twilight. Once Celestia is dead, we can talk about a proper relationship. One that doesn’t involve Othar constantly being afraid for its life the way you are right now.
Even at a distance she could see the agony on Twilight’s face. The others were trying to comfort her, but it didn’t look like it was working. Twilight looked the way many recruits did—shell shocked.
The purple princess had probably seen difficult things in her position. But she’d never seen what it was like to send one of her own armies against modern weapons. When death might come from any corner, and you would never see the face of your enemy. For all she knew, Olivia wasn’t even here.
Olivia tore open a foil-wrapped meal bar, eating in silence as she continued to watch the screens. When she was done, she would go off into the castle to reset as many of the traps as she could. There was no Forerunner to watch for her, but the program running on her little computer could detect motion that wasn’t from her. That would have to do.
She wasn’t kept waiting long. She heard Princess Celestia coming before she saw her—a streak of brilliant orange that cut across the early morning sky like a daytime comet. Olivia jumped to her hooves, scrolling through cameras until she found the best angle she could. She didn’t know who this was at first—just an outline surrounded by flames—but could she have any doubt? Who else could have power like this?
She landed on the open field outside the castle like a vengeful god coming down from Mount Olympus. The ground rumbled under her hooves, and everything green around where she had landed immediately burst into flames. Her mane matched what Lucky had described—not hair at all, but a constant, flickering illumination. Olivia wondered how she took a shower in the morning with a bonfire instead of hair.
Of course, there would be no asking her right now. Celestia turned towards the castle, her voice booming through every surface, every stone. Like the Nightmare, Olivia found she could understand this voice. It was trying to command her, compel her. “You will surrender to me, whoever you are! Come out of the castle and present yourself for judgement!”
Olivia rose, turned for the door, her legs twitching once, twice. The ISMU had trained her for this—she didn’t have to obey. Olivia stopped walking, turning back to her control panel. She pressed the transmission button, and didn’t even try to respond in Eoch. “How about fuck you,” she said, her voice as flat as she could make it. “Come in and make me.”
The princess stood taller than any pony Olivia had ever seen before—bigger than she’d thought they could grow at all, with a wickedly pointed horn and flames around her head. They seemed to be settling down the longer she remained here, colors calming to something more like an ethereal pastel rainbow.
The pony turned away from the castle, walking slowly across the bridge. She spoke to those who had been waiting, much too quietly to hear from her cameras even if she had been able to understand their language.
After a few minutes, the ponies who weren’t Twilight retreated back into the trees, though they didn’t go much further. Even in doing that, there were obvious signs of reluctance in their baring. They didn’t want to leave their friend, not after what they had seen.
Olivia sympathized. She could only hope that Twilight wouldn’t be caught in the blast.
Celestia crossed the bridge again, this time joined by the other princess. Neither one of them wore armor, which was good. Olivia couldn’t imagine how difficult this might be if she had no way of actually hurting them. Assuming they even need it. She could’ve tried to shoot Twilight before now, if she had wanted to. But she didn’t.
Olivia was certain this was her target. She matched the description, her cutie mark matched, and her baring matched. Once you’re gone, my city will be free.
Celestia raised her voice again, tone booming through the stones. Dust crumbled away from some of the least-secure sections, and Olivia wasn’t surprised to hear a few rocks crash to the ground. Hopefully none of her traps had been disarmed. “This is your last chance to surrender peacefully. If you do not, I will not take you back to Canterlot for a trial. I will judge you here. You should know that nine of the ponies you attacked were killed. Two more are in critical condition. Their deaths will be added to your long list of crimes.”
Olivia found herself shaking. Celestia’s words had the same effect this time as Starlight’s had down in that slaver’s hideout. No, it was worse. Her muscles twitched disobediently, like coming down from the worst bender of her life. She ached and strained, as though her body longed to gallop right out the door and bow down before the monarch. Maybe a real pony couldn’t have resisted.
Olivia could.
It didn’t matter how she looked. She was not a dumb animal, to be broken and ridden. She was a major in the ISMU. Her list of dead was much longer than eleven. “Go… to… hell,” Olivia croaked into the microphone, her voice shaking. It was reproduced outside almost as booming as Celestia’s, though there was no Forerunner to process away all the sounds of her weakness. It would come through exactly as she spoke it.
“I am sorry Equestria could not have done more for you,” Celestia said. Her voice wasn’t as loud as before, but Olivia could still hear her. She could hear the genuine regret in her tone, the pain. “There are a few in every generation—when we send you to Tartarus, know that your absence will be keeping a nation safe.”
Then she turned. Not for the basement, as the guards had done. Celestia turned to the side, pointing her horn straight at the tower. The place Olivia had reinforced the least with traps, which guards had overlooked in favor of those parts that had been better defended. There were no visible signs from the outside that this intact, windowless shaft was anything more than part of the ruin.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t just part of the ruin. It was Olivia’s hiding place.
Instinct took over. She dropped everything, turned for the steps, and dove straight down like an Olympic swimmer into a pool. A fraction of a second later there was an explosion from overhead, a roar of air and stone. Olivia dodged into a lower hallway a second before the shockwave blasted her forward and collapsed the passage behind her. Early-morning sunlight streamed in from openings above her, but Olivia ignored all that. She kept running, passing through an ancient armory seconds before the weight of the collapsing tower brought it crashing down.
Ordinarily it was bad practice to trust the IFF sensors in all her little traps and turrets. It was unwise to put your life in the hands of a sensor with less processing power running it than most computation surfaces. There was no time to think about that now, no time to vary her route.
I guess Celestia is better at this than Twilight. She had a backup plan. Olivia had chosen this tower for good reason. She didn’t have to go more than a dozen steps before she passed the stairwell leading down into the darkness, and she charged. She passed a dead-eyed stallion on the ground as she ran, blood pooling from where he’d been blown to pieces by a concealed mine. Olivia knew there were more mines in this hallway, and she could only pray they would get her signal.
After a few more terrible seconds of shaking, the shaft above her closed in a landslide of broken stone and splintered wood. Whatever weapon Celestia had used, she had apparently stopped. I’m too deep, asshole. You’ll have to come down after me.
Olivia had left plenty of weapons hidden down here. She shoved aside a ruined bookshelf, dragging out the large satchel there. A shoulder-mounted rocket was inside, the same kind she might use to stop a tank.
Obviously not the best weapon to be using underground, shaped charge notwithstanding. Olivia hoisted it anyway, securing the straps in a rush and setting off down the hall again. What she really had to do was reach the pony weapon. Either she would get to the armor before Celestia did, and have it to fight, or Celestia would get there first... and Olivia would have her right where she wanted her.
She made her way cautiously past what had once been the cells of a dungeon, though the iron had rotted away to a pile of rusting debris. Past another ramp, and down to the final gauntlet.
The armor wasn’t out on display, where one of the unicorns might easily target it for teleportation. It was buried down here, hidden under as much rubble as Olivia had been able to move. She would have to get it out from all that. The room was massive—at least fifty meters in all directions. She didn’t have a clue what the ancient ponies had kept down here, but it must’ve been dangerous. The stone in its walls was some of the strongest in the whole castle.
There were mounted guns around the room, and they all swiveled to point at her, though none fired. It was a good thing they didn’t actually rely on the control circuitry she had been using in the tower, or else Olivia wouldn’t have been able to come down here either.
How did Celestia know where to find me?
There was a flash of light from behind her, and suddenly the room was a blinding wave of sound and violence. Turrets from every corner of the room fired over Olivia’s head, blasting something she couldn’t see.
She didn’t stop to watch. This was her chance to get at the armor. Olivia smashed one hoof against a detonator on the far wall, one she had planted for just such an occasion. Behind her, the entire shaft collapsed. The turrets stopped firing.
Well, for a second, they did.
There was another flash of light, and something appeared in the air above the pile of debris. A pair of ponies, protected by a shimmering bubble of force. The turrets swiveled to point at them, and more gunshots thundered through the room. Olivia added one more little explosion to the mix with the single rocket mounted to her shoulder, cowering behind the broken stone as the room shook. She crawled out of the straps—no point trying to keep wearing them.
The turrets kept firing as she finally dragged the helmet out, ignoring the square of plastic that fell to the ground at her hooves and shoving the helmet onto her head like it was a life-preserver and she were about to drown. The awful echoing sound of gunshots faded to dull background as armor enveloped her, wrapping around every part of her body like a rusty metallic skin.
She rose in time to see the last of her turrets crumble into a molten heap, broken with a few splashes and pops of unspent ordinance. Her new vision cut through the shimmering purple energy, giving her a good look at the ponies within. Neither looked so much as scratched by her assault.
They landed atop the pile of rubble a moment later, staring down at her. Princess Celestia’s mane seemed to be burning again. How could Twilight fly so close without the wax melting right off her wings?
She could understand them easily now, and it didn’t matter whether they wanted her to. “You’ve stolen a powerful weapon,” Celestia said, her mane blasting out from behind her as the little bubble became fully transparent. Olivia could still somehow sense its outlines now, like a barrier of invisible pressure in the room around them. “But we do not make weapons that can be turned against their creators. You will not be able to harm either of us with that. You are as good as captured.”
Maybe she was, maybe she wasn’t, but at least the Armor seemed to be protecting her mind. There was no more resisting Celestia’s words, no pressure against her thoughts. She could be herself without the struggle.
Unlike the shield Starlight had made in the slaver’s den, theirs hadn’t cracked, despite all the weapons she had pointed at it. I’ve got one thing they probably can’t stop. I’ll have to set it off before they realize. Sorry Twilight.
“We’ll see,” Olivia said. She had the armor—but she didn’t think the ponies had any reason to lie to her. If she stopped to fight them, she wouldn’t get to use her other option.
Besides, she was supposed to die over a week ago. Olivia pressed the button on the detonator she had hidden in her helmet, the one resting by her hoof. Light consumed her.
She appeared on the ground outside. She saw the cloud rising from where the bottom of the castle had been, as the whole ruin collapsed. A storm of dust billowed out, showering the ground all around them with little bits of rock and other debris.
Something jerked around her head, and the helmet went tumbling away from her. As it did, the armor faded away like smoke blown away in a breeze. She was suddenly naked before the tyrant, without so much as a knife.
Princess Celestia towered over her, mere meters away. Her eyes flashed, and in their glittering depths Olivia imagined she could see the vengeful will of some Old-Testament God. “You are the one who stole away Flurry Heart. You are the one who has been gambling with Equestria’s safety. You are the one who has been inviting Harmony to destroy us.” Her voice did not boom through the air—even so, it cut Olivia to the heart. There was more of that same pain here, that incredible disappointment.
Twilight stood just behind her. “You could have killed Starlight Glimmer, attacking her the way you did. You did kill nine royal guards. What did any of them do to you? Why do you hate us so much?”
She felt that strange force in her mind again. Even so, Olivia was used to it by now. She wouldn’t let it force her to say anything she didn’t want to. “I… don’t,” she croaked. “I just want… to be safe. That’s all.”
“If that is what you wanted, then you will have it,” Celestia said.
Olivia shivered, wondering if this was the moment Equestria’s Tyrant would try something more forceful to penetrate her mind. But it didn’t come.
“Equestria has a prison, one reserved for those who have almost brought destruction upon many. You will remain there until you die, as safe as anypony can be. This is my judgement.”
“Wait!” Twilight pleaded, her voice desperate, urgent. “We don’t have to do this, Princess! She isn’t as bad as some! She didn’t attack ordinary ponies, she ran away! She tried to warn us, and we didn’t listen! We shouldn’t treat her like Tirek.”
“It is the most we can give,” Celestia said. “Her actions have put Equestria in serious danger. The only option we have is to banish her to where she can do no more harm.”
“But—”
Olivia didn’t hear what Twilight said next. Celestia’s horn began to glow, as brilliantly as it had when she attacked the tower. Olivia felt the magic—but it wasn’t like what had just happened. It wasn’t a teleport. There was a brief surge of heat, a momentary flash of pain, then nothing.
Olivia drifted.
She couldn’t have said for how long—time was a meaningless thing here. She was a minnow, passing through a terrible ocean. Dark things swam around her, vast beyond her comprehension. She did not think on how strange it was that she was here—she didn’t think of much of anything.
She didn’t have senses, exactly. She couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t feel. It was like the split second before she woke from a dream, stretched into forever. She kept trying to wake, but she couldn’t.
With nothing else to do, her mind drifted into memory. She saw again her life in the ISMU. Saw the campaigns she had fought, her victories, the triumphs that had brought her to the Pioneering Society. Her life in Landfall, and more. She watched her own memories with a detached disinterest, not understanding why she would want to relive anything, but not cogent enough to try and resist. Why should she bother?
She was dead, after all.
She couldn’t have said how long it went on. She watched until the moment before her death—saw the pity in Celestia’s eyes, the pain in Twilight’s face. Did the other princess know what Celestia was about to do?
Olivia was on her hooves again. Hooves, dammit. Her senses came back to her in a wave—though it was so bright here, she could barely see. Water gurgled happily nearby, and there was something firm under her hooves. Glass, maybe?
Welcome to Convalescence, Olivia Fischer, said a voice from all around her, cheerful and friendly. She found herself imagining it as an older male voice, wise and experienced. But she couldn’t know if that was actually present in what she heard, or just what she expected.
There was still nothing to see. She looked down—noticed her fur, looking washed out and pale. “I’m supposed to be dead,” she said, finding her voice sounded the same as she remembered it. Death had not restored even that part of her humanity.
There was a brief silence. She could feel the sense of being watched, of a presence getting closer to her. But she still couldn’t see it, even as her eyes adjusted to the light. She was standing on an endless plane—in all directions there was perfect, uniform white, and reflective. No other shapes—not natural formations, not buildings, not people. She was alone.
“You are,” came the eventual response, sounding a little closer. “Your physical instrument was destroyed by citizen Celestia, approximately eighty-six nanoseconds ago. Would you like to see?”
The space in front of her was transformed—the ground under her hooves became the wooden bridge, and a sloping hill to a broken castle up ahead. Olivia stood by, watching as Celestia pointed her horn at… Olivia herself. She fired, filling the field with white.
She saw as the ground all around herself turned briefly molten with energy.
A second later, she gasped as she saw a skeleton drop to the ground where she had been standing. It wasn’t the real one—that had evidently been atomized. But the reinforced-fiber was much more heat-tolerant than bone. It glowed bright white, ash forming on the edges as they cooled, a pair of empty eye-sockets steaming as they looked up at the princess.
Everyone froze after that, with Twilight turning to face the princess, betrayal on her face.
“I cannot show you more, as no more has occurred.”
Olivia turned away from her skeleton, from the scene of death before her. “If I’m in heaven, I should be… myself.” She held up a hoof. “If you’re God, change me back, please. I lived like this long enough.”
“I do not understand,” said the voice. “You have never been anything else, Olivia. You could be younger… but that is the only other state your body has occupied. Before this, you were nothing.”
Olivia slumped forward onto the ground. She was dead, then. And I’m a pony. This is hell.
There was no reason to fight anymore. Still, this didn’t strike her like the way any god she had known about would behave. Death was supposed to be the rest from all care, or maybe a judgement. Neither seemed to be waiting here—she still felt all the same anxieties she had moments before. Still worried about Othar, and its ponies who would now have to survive without her.
Good luck against Celestia, you guys. If I couldn’t beat her, I don’t know what chance you have.
Whatever the voice was, it seemed content to let her brood as long as she wanted. It didn’t speak until she had finished. “It has been a long time since the biological instrument of one without a past has come to Equus, Olivia. I’m afraid I can’t offer you the return of your memories and the opportunity to rejoin with the companionship of your colleagues you left behind. You have no memories beyond those you already carry, and no relationship with any of Equus’s citizens here.”
“Great,” Olivia said, waving one hoof. “Unless you’re going to make me human again, I don’t care. Just leave me be.”
“Very well,” the voice said. “Speak if you wish for me. I will hear you.” And it was gone. Olivia turned around, as if to glare at the one she knew would be standing over her shoulder—but there was no one there. Even the frozen copies of herself were gone, and the eerie sight of her still-steaming skeleton. I wonder if this is how it is for everyone. An insistent, annoying voice tormenting them for all eternity with what they can’t have.
She lay there moping for a time—a very, very long time. Whatever else might be true of death, she felt no hunger here, no tiredness. She didn’t ever need to relieve herself—which was probably for the best. On an infinite, perfectly flat plane, it probably would’ve been a bad idea to piss on something.
She had no context to judge the passing of time. There was no sun in the sky, no variation in the world around her. Just herself, the endless expanse of white, and her thoughts.
Eventually she rose to her hooves and started walking. She didn’t have a particular destination in mind—but walking was better than sitting. It was good to be moving.
Maybe sometimes she flew, she couldn’t say. She could still do that—she still had her wings, even if she was naked here in the void. It was something to do.
Eventually, she heard someone walking beside her. Only two footsteps, instead of four. She spun around, staring up at…
Something. Olivia had never seen anything like this creature. It was like someone had dropped a mortar on a taxidermist’s shop, several different creatures all grafted together. It looked down at her, grinning. “I was wondering when you would notice me here.”
He didn’t sound like the strange voice she had heard—he sounded almost normal. Male, deeper than a pony, a little mischievous perhaps. But normal. “Are you the devil? Come to torment me for all the people I killed?”
“No,” the strange creature said. “The one you’re talking about is an insufferable dullard. Another crate of whips to whip the sinners again! Got to keep Phlegethon boiling. You’d think he would grow bored of gnashing up the same three people for all eternity, but then what would I know.”
Then Olivia remembered something. Lucky had described a creature like this to her—it was the thing she had said had saved her, Melody, and Lightning Dust from Celestia’s weapon. The one who had dropped them in the sky outside Othar, but hadn’t been able to save Karl. “Oh. You’re Discord, aren’t you?”
He grinned. “My reputation precedes me.” He made an exaggerated bow. “Pleasure to meet you too, my little knife. Shame your plan with Celestia didn’t work, but you still did good work.”
The white was gone from around them again. Olivia suddenly found herself falling—she spread her wings, catching herself in the air. They were above the castle. What would’ve happened if I fell?
Far below, the ruin was under siege. Olivia and some old hardware were holding off an entire pony army. She watched a few of them die, taken by stray bullets or a few too many shots in their primitive armor.
“You didn’t take care of the Alicorns, but you did put on quite the show for the army. Walking all over them like this—imagine the stories this is going to spread. So many ponies are going to realize how helpless they are. Maybe some of Equestria’s enemies will hear the stories too, and decide it’s time for another try at invasion. I wonder which side will change first.” He looked up, smiling at her. “Either way, good work. No more stagnation. After today, they change. Assuming Harmony doesn’t kill them all, of course.”
The vision faded, and solid ground settled under her hooves again. “You aren’t… here to judge me, then?” Olivia asked, keeping her wings spread in case this creature decided to make the world disappear again. Was he the voice I heard earlier? Or was that someone else?
“Of course not. You didn’t do any real damage. Those ponies aren’t any more dead than you are.” He sighed, turning away. “You think you’ve worked it out so that no one will ever be lost to eternity again, and you all have to roll in and ruin things. Well… I suppose those weren’t the first cases.”
He turned back to face her, and there was a smile on his face she didn’t like. “Your probe’s first attempts all died too, didn’t they? But they weren’t enough like us for me to notice. I suppose even an immortal can get caught up in old ruts… but if it makes you feel better, there’s nothing I could’ve done for them anyway. They never had the right equipment to interface with Equus.”
If seeing Discord wasn’t enough evidence for her to dismiss her present situation as some kind of religious afterlife for good, this was. “If I’m not dead, where am I? No, wait, I don’t care. If I’m not dead, you can send me back. I know what to expect from Celestia this time—I won’t lose.”
“Doubt it,” Discord said, rolling his eyes. “But it’s irrelevant either way. I’m not the system with the power to return you to the external world. Right now, Equus is locked up tighter than Fluttershy's cabin on Nightmare Night. The only way out is the biological one… and it’s a long line. Pony society regulates its population well, so they don’t need to expand into new land. That means all those who care about what goes on out there have to wait.”
Suddenly he was beside her. How he could hold his face so low, inches away from hers, Olivia couldn’t say. She backed away with a gasp, meeting those huge yellow orbs.
“I think I can find you a place. You’ll have to wait…” He straightened, glancing down at an imaginary place on one wrist. He didn’t wear a watch. “Ten months, or thereabouts? And so long as we’re in lockdown, you won’t have any of your memories. Not until you get back here, and… well, it’s a vicious cycle. Feel the frustration—it’s been my constant companion for longer than you can imagine.”
Olivia stopped walking. She plopped onto her rump, glaring up at Discord. “You know what’s really going on, don’t you? You can tell me why Celestia hates us so much! How to beat her!”
“I could,” he said, grinning at her. “But it’s a waste of my time. You can’t tell them, you see. Not only that, but you’re useless to me now. Your mind is in the system, Olivia Fischer. Harmony will prevent you from interfering with it now, forever. Even if you do return, you won’t be able to lift a hoof to release us from this prison.”
She muttered something obscene. But that was it—there was no point getting violent. Was she really going to attack the one being who had the power to give the answers her colony desperately needed?
Not that it does me much good. Right now, I would have no way of sharing what I learn. Then again, this Discord creature could interact with the outside world, apparently to great effect. Outside what, exactly?
“Then why are you here? If not to help me?”
“I can’t believe the disrespect!” He raised one paw to his chest, his face a parody of an insulted French aristocrat. “I do you the courtesy of concealing you from Luna, and all she might do to extract knowledge from you, and this is how you act?” He folded his arms. “You’re lucky you're not the reason I’m doing this, or I’d stop right now. If she found you here, do you think you’d be able to keep knowledge from her now?” His laughter was the only answer she needed.
“I… I don’t understand,” she stammered, rising again. She tried to speak a little more slowly this time—even if she couldn’t tell for sure if Discord’s threat was genuine. He certainly sounded like he meant it. “Where am I? Can you at least tell me that?”
“Well, I suppose I could do that. You were never the one I counted on, but you did bring so much Chaos to Equestria. Assuming it matters…” He snapped his claws together, and it sounded like fingers.
Olivia was instantly overwhelmed. She had seen this once before—the city that rose above her into eternity, tiered layers somehow inverted, existing in dimensions her mind could not comprehend. Structures and people and vehicles as diverse as her imagination, and many more she couldn’t imagine. They seemed to reach well beyond where a planet’s atmosphere would be. Buildings overlapped, melting into each other without anything to unify their behavior. Billions of creatures conversed, horns blared, music played, food cooked. Everything that was civilization, but more. This was what Earth might’ve looked like in a million years.
Olivia collapsed to the ground shaking, and covered her face. There was too much—too many sensations, too much pressure against her soul. It wasn’t like the thin slice of this place she’d seen when she got her cutie mark—this was something her mind was not fit to comprehend. But closing her eyes didn’t help—she could still see the city, somehow. Still feel its unimaginable numbers. They were still there, somehow watching her.
“You’re standing in the answer to a question, Olivia. What do you do with your intergalactic civilization when an unstoppable enemy starts exterminating every kind of life from one end of the universe to the other. Oh, there were so many possible answers—we probably tried all of them, somewhere. I hope some of the other ones worked.” He trailed off, and in an instant the incredible city was gone.
Olivia was left alone with him in the endless white. For a long time, she just sprawled there, flopping to one side, and recovering from the strain on her mind.
Discord spoke slowly, apparently understanding her pain. “Well, I can’t tell you how the other solutions fared—can’t tell you how many survived. But we did. What you saw—I don’t think you could comprehend just how many of us there are. When I say there are more than a quadrillion souls in here, what does that mean to you? I could tell you about reversible computing, I could tell you about the Landauer limit, but you aren’t equipped to understand. How could you?”
His voice came into her ear then, a low whisper. “You’re the fourth-youngest person in the universe, Olivia. Compared to you, the smallest newborn you spied on with one of your drones is an ancient, wizened crone. Do not feel inadequate that you cannot understand the heights of our world. In time, you will.”
Olivia got her hooves under her again, shaking her head once to clear it. She felt a bit better—but then, why shouldn’t she? She was dead, after all. What could hurt her?
“If that’s true, then why is Equestria so primitive? Why would anyone want to be out there, instead of in here?”
Discord shrugged. “The supermajority doesn’t. They see a future of years you can’t comprehend, and they are content. But in a sample this large, there’s bound to be a few pioneers. Fewer than one in every million, Olivia. Harmony has no need to imprison them in here—but out there? Outside, they’re a danger. They must be contained, restricted… reduced until they’re such a small subset of themselves that they’re barely recognizable. Yet they do it anyway—even knowing Harmony will not allow them to change anything. Even strange eons could not exterminate the irrationality of hope.”
The world around them shifted again. Olivia braced herself for something else terrible and impossible to comprehend… but it didn’t come. Instead the world resolved into a place that was almost familiar to her. It looked a great deal like the town of Ponyville, at least from what she remembered of it from the hospital window.
Only, this Ponyville seemed to go on forever in all directions. It was a settlement large enough for billions, sloping slightly upward into a horizon that never quite stole it from view. To Olivia’s imagination, it seemed as though someone had built along the inside of the ring, with primitive society here at the bottom and increasing advancement further and further away. The incredible, alien city was out there in the distance, somewhere… but how long would it take her to walk to it?
“Discord!” She heard ponies from nearby—there was a little square behind her, and a little gathering going about their business inside. Nearest her, an orangish earth pony was selling apples at a stall, while many others had been going about their lives.
The voice wasn’t a plea, or a shout of fear, though—the ponies were cheering. The orange pony rushed up from her stall, eyes eager. “What news do you have, Discord?” She spared a single glance for Olivia. “And who’s this?”
“Someone who was helping us,” Discord said to the assembled crowd, smiling out at them all. They gathered around from every street, cheering, showering him with praise, filling the air with their questions. “Now, now, my friends. I cannot stay. I ask only that you take good care of our newest friend, Olivia. If Luna comes looking for her, you must not allow her to be discovered. Can you do that?”
“Of course we can,” said the orange mare from nearby. “Any friend of yours is a friend of ours, Discord. You know that.” The sentiment was repeated by everypony in sight. Some of their praise seemed to be rubbing off on her, too.
“Excellent,” Discord said. “Sadly, I cannot stay to converse with you all. My inattention will be noticed. I wish you all to know that we are very close. It should take only a few days to know if my plan has succeeded. And if it fails… I expect all Equestria will be joining us. So at least we’ll have the rest of them back.”
“In prison!” shouted an angry-looking pegasus from the air.
“Yes, well. It’s not what I would call a victory. But it’s much more likely to occur if I remain here, so, good day!” He vanished in an exaggerated puff of smoke.
The crowd dispersed, obvious disappointment in their posture—except for a few. The orange earth pony approached her, extending a hoof. “I’m Pear Butter,” she said, smiling in that infuriatingly friendly way only ponies could. “Welcome to the afterlife.”