//------------------------------//
// Heart of the City 
// Story: Fall of Empire 
// by Sixes_And_Sevens 
//------------------------------//

The dark unicorn trotted alongside his much smaller compatriot. They were silent. “So…” Sweetie began. “What did you see?”
Sombra stared straight ahead for a long moment. “Overcompensation,” he said at last. “A poorly made picture which I failed to mistake for a mirror.”
“...” Sweetie stared at him.
“...” Sombra did not meet her face.”
“.....,...?” Sweetie raised a brow.
Sombra chewed on his lower lip. “..., . . .    .”
“...Well, anyway, how did you, like, defeat it?” Sweetie asked.
“I decided that it wasn’t worth my time,” Sombra replied. There was a long pause. “And I laughed at it.”
Sweetie’s entire demeanor changed, her face lighting up. “You mean you giggled at the ghostie?”
The massive unicorn looked at her askance. “Er, yes. I suppose that I did. Is that…”
“Never mind. Inside joke.”
Sombra nodded slowly. “Well. What did you see?”
Sweetie looked down. “You’ll think it’s dumb.”
Sombra let out a hoarse choke that might have been a gentle scoff. “I assure you, it cannot possibly be any more so than was mine.”
Sweetie smiled shyly. “Well… I was alone.”
Sombra cocked his head. “... and?”
She sighed. “I knew you would think that it was dumb.”
“I think no such thing,” the dark unicorn assured hurriedly. “Isolation… it is a cross that I have borne for some time.”
Sweetie winced. “Right. Sorry.”
The former king stared at her, bemused. “Sorry? Wherefore are you sorry?”
“You’ve got way bigger problems than I do,” she said dejectedly, “and here I am making it all about me.”
Sombra sighed. “Problems… are relative, I suppose. You know mine, and you have done your best to aid me. I am grateful for this, and wish to perform the same service for you.”
“But… you don’t even know me.”
“You did not know me, either.”
Sweetie mused on this as they continued to climb up and up and round and round. “How tall is this tower, anyway?”
Sombra scowled at the stairs. “Taller than it ought be,” he muttered. “The entity must have moved beyond mere color-changing.”
“To… shape-shifting?” Sweetie asked.
“Growing, if nothing else.”
“Oh.”
They continued on in silence for a long while. Sombra sighed. “This really is ridiculous.”
“Agreed.”
They continued on for another several circuits. At length, Sweetie sighed. “I told you about the Crusaders, right?”
Sombra nodded.
“And you remember that I said that the search for cutie marks went better for some?”
Another nod.
“Well, my friend Scootaloo got hers a couple years ago. She was the last one, except for me.”
“Mmm…”
“And now they’re all at a bunch of different colleges, and my parents are never home, and my sister and her fiance are always busy. And it feels like I’m just… a blank. Nothing. Like I don’t make much of a difference.”
“I see.”
“And what do you think of that?”
“You were right. I do think it is ‘dumb.’”
A beat. “Wait, what?”
“It is not a reasonable fear,” Sombra said frankly. “You fear invisibility, or being forgotten. You fear that you have made 	no impact. But you have made an impact on the Doctor, that much is clear. No doubt, your friends have great respect for you also, as does your family. And if that is not enough for you… I have known you for perhaps eight hours. You have known me for about two. In that time… in that time, you have left such an impression on me that I would never forget you if I had to wait ten thousand years before we met again.”
Sweetie Belle glanced away awkwardly. “But I didn’t do anything. I just talked a lot.”
“Exactly.” Sombra cracked a toothy grin. “You talked. To me. And you didn’t seem to care what I had done under the crystal’s spell.”
“Well, it wasn’t your fault!”
“And that is why you make a difference.”
Sweetie pinked. “Do you really mean it?”
“Yes, I—”
He was cut off as the Doctor peered out from around the next bend, concern written into his features. “Top’s only a few 	more turns. C’mon, you need to see this.”
The two unicorns exchanged worried looks and charged up the stairs after the Time Lord.
The top of the tower overlooked the entire empire in what might usually have been a gorgeous panoramic view. The vantage was not at all spoilt. The empire itself was a different story. The Doctor gazed out over the landscape, disgust written on his features. Sombra and Sweetie burst through the door in a moment later. “What is it?” Sombra asked urgently. 	“What has it done?”
“The city is a living thing,” the Doctor said quietly. “And now, it’s dying.”
The two unicorns joined him at the edge of the balcony. Nopony spoke. Then, Sombra scowled. “What. The. TARTARUS.” he growled. His teeth glinted, and the faintest hint of fire licked at his pupils.
Neither of the time travelers could entirely blame him. The city was a disaster, all veins of muscle-raw and blood-red and fat-white. The lurid green tower was the only other color in the place. “What I want to know is, how is it possible for crystal to burn?” the Doctor commented, pointing to a plume of smoke that loomed over a large patch of the city to the west.
“It isn’t,” Sombra muttered, glancing down.
Sweetie Belle spun around. “Right! Now, where’s that Crystal Heart?”
“Secret panel,” Sombra muttered, gesturing vaguely at the floor. “Press the—” he cut himself off suddenly.
“What? Press the what?” Sweetie asked, turning around.
And then she saw it. A massive laser light, shining into the sky, turning the snowfall red. And the clouds twisted and shifted, darkening in some places, lighting up in others. “Oh,” said Sombra quietly. “I see.”
A giant stallion’s head, with black mane and dark grey coat, roared with laughter, rows of jagged forks of lightning lining its mouth. The two travelers glanced subtly at Sombra, who merely licked his lips and blinked, lizardlike. “Ah,” said the Doctor. “Okay, right, secret panel-ho!”
“Er, yes,” Sombra agreed quickly, turning away from the menacing shadow. “The trigger is…” he traced along the baseboard of the room. “Here.” He pushed in with a hoof.
“This city has a lot of secret passages,” Sweetie noted.
“I believe the founder was rather paranoid,” the Doctor noted as a panel in the center of the room slid open.
The trio gravitated toward the hole. The Crystal Heart was their one hope, their sole salvation. It was still faintly visible beneath the quick-bitten red crystal that encased it. “Oh,” said Sombra flatly.
“Well,” said the Doctor.
"Fuck," said Sweetie Belle, summarizing the situation quite nicely.




The balcony snapped off of the building, sending the box and its occupants crashing to the ground. Celestia let out a gasp of pain. Jade sat next to her, tail flicking in a decidedly feline manner. Nothing else about her so much as twitched, apart from her desperately flickering eyes. Silent as pallbearers, four bulky guards stepped forth and bodily lifted the crystal trap from the ground, carrying it forwards toward the center of the square.
The crowd parted in front of the box as it was carried along the ground toward the spire in the center of the square, which was glowing with an unsettling red light. Lightning flickered up and down its vastness up to the top, far too high for eyes to see. Celestia’s prison continued in its graceful path beneath the legs of the colossus. The world turned bright red. Celestia vaguely recalled her brief stint as Midnight Sun, specifically the time she had visited a nightclub in Manehattan. The strobing red light was even more unpleasant now than it had been then. The box ground to a halt just before reaching the center of the maelstrom, and the ponies carrying it along set it down with surprising gentleness.
The silence was almost unbearable. By all rights, this place should have been deafening with the crash of thunder and the static scream of electrical mayhem. But the only sound she could hear was a faint mosquito hum at the edge of her hearing.
After several seconds had stretched into multiple minutes, she snorted indignantly. “Well?” Celestia demanded. “Isn’t this meant to be the grand reveal? The part where the great architect comes out and walks me through the blueprints? Taking over our northernmost territory is one thing, but this is simply unprofessional.”
The red lightning crackled in front of her, and a figure stepped out of the crowd. He seemed to be a guard, one of her guards no less, judging by the outfit he wore, but Celestia knew better than to judge on that criterion alone. He held himself upright, walking pridefully, almost swaggering. Celestia nodded at him. “Good morning,” she said with all the pleasantness she could muster.
“Isn't it?” he replied. “For one of us, at any rate.”
“Ah. But which one?” Celestia asked mildly.
“Me,” said the guard, nodding. “Definitely me.”
“What, no banter?”
“Later,” the guard promised. “Not much later. In between the part where you guess who I am, and the part where I atomise you.”
“Hmm…” Celestia cocked her head. “Is your name… Sterling Shield?”
“No.”
“Argent Spetum?”
“No.”
“Rumpelstiltskin?”
“Not even close.”
“Michael Grade?”
“Please. I have some standards.”
Celestia shook her head. “I am sorry. When you meet quite so many foes as I do, the less interesting ones tend to slip into the cracks.”
“I thought we agreed to banter later,” the guard said, disapproval evident in his voice.
“You did. I said no such thing.”
“Tsk. Pedantry. Well, we can't have that.”
The hum grew into a shriek, and a bolt of ruby lightning shot down and struck the guard. Celestia didn't even have time to blink. One moment he had been there, the next moment, he was… gone. There wasn't even a corpse left, save a melted breastplate and a teaspoon worth of cinders.
The princess breathed in. “That's cheating,” she said quietly. “You never even gave us your name when we met.”
“Oh, so you did guess.” Another guard, this one a native of the empire, stepped into the center of the circle. This time, Celestia studied the eyes. They were red and glowing, yes, but there was no emotion in them, no drive.
“We sent you away,” Celestia said coldly. “Shadow-sprite, puppet-master, mind-twister, you were banished. By the light of the moon and the promise of the sun, your threat was destroyed, Barleycorn.” The last word was more spat than spoken.
The monster stared back at her, grinning with its stolen mouth. “Close enough for today,” it decided.
Celestia didn’t smile back. “What is it to be this time, then? Another attempt to swathe the world in darkness? To destroy all life? What is it that drives you? What purpose does all of this serve?”
The crystal mare licked her lips. No, wait, that was just a stray bolt of electricity escaping her mouth. “Life? Feh. Unpredictable. Chaotic. You understand, don’t you? Or is that particular garden statue just because you didn’t fancy a lawn gnome?”
“Discord wasn’t sealed away for staying true to their nature,” Celestia said coolly. “They were sealed for going beyond it. They were a detriment to harmony as a whole. Too much order is just as bad as too much chaos, and you haven’t answered my question.”
“I’m not serving my own purposes, Blaze,” the guard said. “Me, I can’t do nothing. Not without permission.”
“Was that an accidental double negative or a bit of wordplay?”
Lightning flashed menacingly overhead. Celestia glared. “Question rescinded. For now.”
“How good of you.” In the next instant, there was another flash. The air was rank with the stink of ozone and burning flesh.
Celestia stared, horrified, at the heap of slag and ash. “Congratulations, you just said the secret woid.” One of her sister’s guards stepped out of the crowd, an elderly stallion, blind in one eye.
The princess’s jaw hardened. “You didn’t need to do that.”
“Oh, but I did. You said ‘question.’ There’s a new secret word, now.”
Celestia glared. “What is it?”
The guard shrugged. “How would I know? It’s a secret.”
Celestia continued to stare flatly. “Tell. Me. What. You. Are. Doing. Here.”
The batpony glared back, mocking. “Why. Don’t. You. See. For. Yourself?”
Collectively, the mob began to converge on the center of the plaza. The Sun Princess glanced around in confusion. “What are you—”
She was interrupted as the mosquito whine grew louder and louder until it was practically an alarm siren. The alabaster mare folded back her ears, cringing away from the unpleasant noise, but that didn’t help at all. If anything, the noise got worse. “Gah! What is that?”
“You may as well unblock your ears,” said the batpony. With a jolt that was no less shocking than the sparks flying across the spire overhead, Celestia realized that he sounded just as clear as he had a moment before.
“It’s in my head,” she muttered. “You’re in my head!”
The stallion shrugged. “Chaos. It happens regardless of anything you or I do. So why not just… accelerate it a little? Ratchet up the emotions, fear, wrath, pain. Then spread them across the whole world.”
“Drive the whole world crazy,” Celestia muttered. “It wouldn’t affect too many unless they were directly exposed, but get enough…”
“And get a few world leaders along the way…” the batpony continued. “Not to mention a couple armies. Always wanted one, ya know. Too bad Sombra grew a spine at the eleventh hour, a king would’ve been a great figurehead. Guess I’ll just have to make do.”
“Make do?” Celestia asked, voice rising. “With whom?”
“Oh, you know who.”
Celestia struggled to retain her composure. If you get angry, it will win, she thought silently. No doubt it requires a certain base level of anger to already be present before this energy can affect a being. Remain calm. Remember, you are the sun. The heat, the power burns within you, and if you let it slip, everything you cared about is gone.
Something about that struck her as being rather important. The sun.
Celestia glanced at the horizon to the east. She could see the dim light of dawn hovering there. It would be a move made in anger, allowing it easier entry to her mind, but if she could be fast enough, and if what Jade said was true…
It was an uncomfortable amount of ‘if’, but she was out of options.
“I’m afraid your plan is doomed to fail,” she said softly.
“And why is that?”
“It’s time for the dawn of a new era,” Celestia said, lighting her horn. Or, at least, trying to light her horn. She felt the aura fizzle and die before it had even half lit up. Surprised, she peered up at her own horn. It was coated in dull grey crystals which seemed almost to grow straight out of the bony protrusion.
The half-blind guard smirked. “Oh, dear. Did you think that I was referring to you? Sorry, Celestia, this time it’s not your show. Ladies and gentlecolts of all ages, give it up for the one, the only, Princess Luna!”
The crowd parted and an alicorn stepped into view. Her coat was pitch and her eyes a brilliant red. Her mane glowed like a supernova. “Better luck next time,” the guard murmured to the horrified elder alicorn. “Not that there’s going to be one.”
The ground began to glow red, sparking and flickering fit to explode. Celestia’s mane rose up, frizzing with the energy in the air. Bolts of red began to flicker in the center of the square, firing upwards toward the top of the spire, powered by all the rage and fear and hatred of the assembled, not excluding the sunraiser herself as she watched the travesty in horror. Overhead, the clouds began to twist into a parody of a pony, colossal and monstrous.




“Well,” said the Doctor, stepping back from the hole. “I suppose that’s that.”
The hole had perhaps once held the Crystal Heart. But the artifact was no more, having been swallowed by red rock. 	Sombra shook his head. “It can’t be,” he murmured. “It can’t be. The Heart was meant to be incorruptible, infallible.”
“No such thing,” the Doctor said dourly, gazing out at the blazing storm of lightning outside. “Everything gets destroyed eventually. All things fall apart.”
“Doctor, there has to be something left for us to  do,” Sweetie said desperately, stepping toward the dun earth pony. “We can, can, we could go back! Back in time to when the heart was whole, we could take it, put a copy in the hole, and bring it forward to now, that would work, right?”
The Time Lord snorted humorlessly. “Yeah, sure. Two problems, though. We can’t get to the TARDIS, and it’s still not working even if we could.”
Sombra frowned. “Tar-diss?”
“Our traveling machine,” Sweetie said. “Remember, we needed a crystal for it?”
“Oh,” said the unicorn, nodding. “Yes. I’m sorry, but I fear there may be some delay in getting you that carved crystal you requested.” His voice, though measured, had a note of hysteria in it.
The Doctor laughed humorlessly, then suddenly stopped. “A specified carving,” he muttered. “A specific… Oh, I am an IDIOT!”
Sweetie blinked, and Sombra looked up from his vigil over the lost hope. The Doctor turned around, grinning broadly. “A carving! We can make a new crystal heart!”
The two unicorns were absolutely silent. “Well…” Sombra began, before trailing off into thoughtful silence.
Sweetie Belle was a tad more vocal. “That doesn’t work. Twilight tried it once, in the future, when the Empire... well, y'know. It didn’t work at all.”
“She didn’t have any kind of instructions,” the Doctor said. “We, on the other hand, have a first-hoof account of the heart.”
“Really?” Sombra asked. “Where?”
They both looked expectantly at him. “Oh. Oh… Well, I’ve seen it, of course, but that sort of carving would need to be extremely precise. I don’t have measurements, you don’t have tools…”
“Well, is there anything about the heart that we can use?” the Doctor pressed. “Anything at all would be more than we’ve got now.”
The dark stallion hesitated. “Well…”
“Come on,” Sweetie said, pleading. “You spent your childhood in the library, right? You must have read something about the history of your own empire!”
Sombra cogitated. “There is one thing. A legend surrounding the heart’s creation. It is said that it was not carved at all. 	In a time of great desperation, when the city was on the precipice of destruction, the Heart was borne of the collective minds of the entire metropolis, manifest of the dreams of every citizen for peace and prosperity.”
“Hence, the reason it was a conduit for positive emotion,” the Doctor murmured. “That might just be it. If we can find a way to get everypony down there to think positively all at the same time, we can harness that power to create a new heart!”
“Yes,” Sombra said, monotone. “Let us all speak of peace and love to the angry, mind-controlled mob below us. Miss Belle may have a knack for reducing the anger of others, but I doubt that she could even get all of those ponies to hear her, let alone listen.”
“That’s the thing. We don’t need to talk to all of them individually. You said it was borne of the collective mind of the populace. Right now, the whatever-this-thing-is has every mind here all connected in anger, but if we can twist that in the other direction, we might be in with a shot.”
“And how do we do that?” Sombra asked, interested despite himself.
The Doctor grimaced. “Ah. That’s the unpleasant part.”
“What?” Sweetie asked, frowning.
“We have to enter the hive mind ourselves.”