//------------------------------// // 5 - Journey // Story: Divergence // by RQK //------------------------------// Tempest Shadow shifted in her seat. The hour had grown later, as evidenced by Starlight Glimmer’s empty teacup and Spike’s empty plate. The three of them still sat with Princess Celestia. Surely, she knew, Twilight Sparkle and Sunset Shimmer would come back soon. Her thoughts drifted to what she had heard about the alternate timelines. She thought about the prospect of entities like Nightmare Moon and Queen Chrysalis having once been undefeated. She thought about the concept of entities like King Sombra and Lord Tirek and Discord still running about. They had all since been defeated. And she had learned that most of them in all the timelines had been accounted for. But, across all the timelines, there was one individual that, by and large, was not. “Princess Celestia,” she said in a somewhat subdued tone. Princess Celestia looked up. “Yes, Tempest?” Tempest folded her hooves together and looked Celestia in the eyes. “About these other timelines… Does anypony know about the Storm King? Is he still in power?” Spike and Starlight also looked up at Celestia. Celestia straightened up. “As far as we have been able to ascertain, yes. He is still in power in all six of the other timelines.” Tempest swallowed. Some drops of sweat formed on her brow. Starlight shuddered. “W… what about the wasteland?” Celestia frowned. “Starlight Glimmer… we have been over this. Nothing exists in the wasteland.” Starlight sighed. “Yeah,” she croaked, “I know.” “And none of them have tried attacking Equestria yet?” Tempest asked. “No,” Celestia replied. “That’s… strange.” Tempest replied. “For as long as I knew him, he wanted power. He knew that Equestria was a place of immense power—I still think it’s stupid that you spend this power on parties and friendship.” Celestia had a stern frown on her face. “Tempest, we Equestrians are not the fighting type. I thought you would understand that by now.” Tempest pointed. “And look at where that got you,” she grumbled. “We are working on bettering ourselves so that situations like that do not happen again. Have patience.” Celestia’s tone was now razor-sharp, so much so that Tempest (and the others, for that matter) withdrew. Celestia took a deep breath then. “Anyway, please, carry on.” Tempest collected her thoughts and then said, with some hesitation, “Y-yes. Well, the Storm King wanted to be the ruler of all. And he had been eyeing up Equestria. Yes… I was the one who suggested invading Equestria and stealing your magic to him, but that was just a means to an end.” Her muzzle twitched from side to side. “These other villains spent years breaking those other Equestrias down, so why didn’t the Storm King swoop in and try to take it for himself when you were all still trying to rebuild them?” At that, Celestia rubbed her chin in thought. “That is a very good question, although I can think of a reasonable answer for it. The existence of these other timelines quickly became common knowledge over there, and it’s on the way over here. So, would-be attackers such as the Storm King would attack knowing that they would have to potentially face the might of seven Equestrias as opposed to just one. I would suspect that it’s quite the deterrent.” Starlight crossed her arms and slumped against the table. “Yeah. If only we had used that fact during the invasion,” she grumbled. “We tried. Twilight couldn’t remember the portal spell,” Spike pointed out. After a moment, Starlight sighed. “Yeah. I didn’t remember it until after I had gotten my flank kicked,” she said in an increasingly inaudible voice. “I taught them that ruthless efficiency,” Tempest said with a smirk. She then sat up. “But you all can’t be the only one who knows how to use it, right?” “Yes, but only authorized casters know the actual spell, and that list is quite small,” Celestia said. “There are less than a hundred in our own Equestria. And for many of them, it takes two or three of them together to open the portal.” Tempest folded her hooves together. “And yet, as you told me, Twilight, Sunset, and her”—she pointed at Starlight—“could do it on their own.” Celestia smiled. “Most ponies are not as capable as they are.” “But it could be done with some amount of magic. You don’t need too much. So, who knows who the authorized casters are?” Celestia stroked her chin. “I believe that listing is also public knowledge.” “So, anyone could look them up?” Tempest asked. “Even… say… power-hungry kings from other timelines? Right?” And now everyone else at the table straightened up and turned to regard her and her words. Tempest kept her discerning frown as she watched their faces scrunch up, turn red, quiver, and frown back. They shifted uncomfortably in their seats, even, as they seemingly absorbed the implications of what she had just said. Celestia eventually sagely and solemnly nodded. “I suppose that’s right.” The scenery outside the train car window flew by at a brisk pace. The car itself thumped in time with the clickety-clack of it going along the tracks. Sunset Shimmer watched it all go by without actually watching it. The car itself hung in a pronounced silence. Pairs of guards flanked the doors at each end of the car and, certainly, more barred the way in the cars beyond. Sunset wondered if they were there as standard security detail or they were there to make sure she didn’t escape. She couldn’t blame them. While Spike and Princess Celestia took up opposing seats on the other side of the aisle, Starlight Glimmer and Tempest Shadow sat in the seat opposite Sunset and Twilight. Most, if not all of them, had been looking at her the whole trip. It was only when she would try to look back at them that they would avert their gazes (although Tempest was not so great about doing that), almost as if they could not bear to meet her eyes. She herself had said nothing. She had done nothing to engage. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to talk about either. What could she say? What could they say? Then again, this was about her. This was her time. Surely, they were respecting her. They were obliging her choice to be silent. And they would probably oblige her if she soon decided otherwise. Because they were there for her. Celestia, at the moment, read over some papers in silence. She also looked at Sunset every once in a while. Spike twiddled his claws together as he flip-flopped between watching Celestia read her documents and staring at the floor. And then Spike cupped his hands over his mouth and spewed some green fire. Said fire then formed into a piece of paper. Spike received it, took a brief look at it, and then presented it to Celestia. Celestia, in turn, lit her horn and took it from him, joining it with the other papers. A few more minutes of silence passed, during which no one spoke. And then, the crystal ball, which sat in the seat with Celestia, made some noise. And then a voice came out of the crystal ball. “No, see that little stone pillar in the middle? Look,” Starlight’s voice said. And then a moment later, “Don’t touch the… Oh.” “What the hay?” Starlight asked, now leaning forward. Sunset groaned. “Yeah, almost forgot. Apparently, the layer above us is doing stuff. This isn’t the first time that’s happened.” Starlight blinked and then looked up. “What? That? The heck are they doing, then?” She then frowned. “…What the heck am I doing?” Sunset shrugged. “Well, it’s not like we know everything there is to know about the Nameless and the seal. There’s a lot to unpack.” Spike nodded. “Yeah, like that stuff that’s written in the other chambers,” he said. He pointed to the papers in Celestia’s magic. “That’s that stuff right there.” Celestia briefly looked up but said nothing. Sunset frowned, stood up, and approached them. “Really?” Celestia peered over, even lowering the papers so that Sunset could see her in full. “Well, yes. Everypony has been working on transcribing and translating what’s written in the other seals since their floors have recessed as well. Each of these is from a separate version of the chamber, including our own.” Sunset frowned. “Well, I’d guess they’d all say the same thing.” Celestia nodded. “That’s what most everypony else said, which is why it took so long to catch on and get these, and why I’m only now getting them.” Her frown deepened. “But no, they are all unique.” Everyone stared at her, wide-eyed. Spike suddenly clasped both claws over his mouth and then spewed more green fire. Said fire coalesced into a piece of paper and a scroll. He unfurled the scroll, read it over, and then presented the piece of paper to Celestia. “Princess Luna says that this is the last of it,” he said. Celestia took that piece of paper and held it up. She looked it over, running her eyes across the page. “And they are all quite strange. I can’t even begin to fathom what it even wants,” Celestia said. Sunset blinked and leaned forward in her seat. “What does it say?” Celestia cleared her throat. “This is the T seal for the Nameless,” she read. “This seal has the ability to take averages and regularly does so. It may also take weighted averages but only in the event that a weight is given. Such a weight must be connected to the seal, or the seal cannot consider the weight. A weight carries a reality’s worth of weight, but this only applies up to the weight’s reach which is of order kilometers, further if there is a concentration. Therefore, because there are eight realities, seven weights must be used to dominate the average and ensure the continued existence of the weighted area. For the good of Consensus, you would do well to observe this…” Everyone else remained silent. “What…?” Tempest hissed. “That is… very strange,” Twilight finally said. “Yeah,” Sunset seconded. “Why the heck would that be written into the seal? What does that have to do with anything?” Celestia actually chuckled at this point. “I don’t know.” Spike sat up in his seat. “Uh… what do the others say?” Sunset nodded. “Yeah. Read us another.” Celestia nodded and then switched to another piece of paper. “This is the S seal for the Nameless. Buried within this seal is a mechanism that allows for the speeding up and slowing down of time. Such time manipulation acts on the entire reality. Furthermore, all time manipulations from layers above this one shall add together to create the observed effect. Each layer’s term shall be of a magnitude which is to the power of its distance away. The agreed factor is of inverse one point nine five five two six which shall need to be applied and maintained during the final twenty hours. Only then shall all hit zero, as is the ultimate requirement. For the good of Consensus, you would do well to observe this…” The train car remained silent again as they all thought about what Celestia had just read. Tempest watched the rest of them for reactions. Now Sunset turned around to face Twilight. “Hey… do you think that has anything to do with the speedup in the crystal ball that we found?” Twilight’s eyes went wide and she looked down at Sunset. She scratched her head. “Well… um… actually…” She crossed her forelegs and hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe.” Starlight stood up in her seat. “Woah, wait a second. What are you saying? That the reason the ball is moving faster and faster is because there is some time dilation going on?” “Yeah,” Sunset replied. Twilight looked over. “Princess Celestia? Can you read that part about the other layers, again?” Celestia nodded. “Furthermore, all time manipulations from layers above this one shall add together to create the observed effect.” Sunset stroked her chin. “So… I wonder if that means the layers above us have done some time dilation thing and it’s affecting the speed at which our crystal ball is going by.” Starlight deadpanned and glanced between the two of them without moving her head. “Why the hay would they time dilate?” “That is a good question,” Celestia replied. “Sadly, I don’t think we can get answers to that.” Sunset wilted. “Yeah… Kinda…” Twilight shifted in her seat. “Could you read another one, please?” Celestia nodded and flipped to a new page. She scanned it once and then sat up. “This is the C seal for the Nameless. The crystal ball which comes with this seal looks into other layers of reality. These layers need not necessarily be in time with each other. The crystal ball may only look at one layer at a time. However, while the layers are strictly ordered, the layer which may be viewed through the crystal ball may vary; the only limitation is that the layer must exist. Only one truly connected to this seal may change which layer the ball views; there, it only takes a thought. For the good of Consensus, you would do well to observe this...” Twilight exchanged glanced with Sunset and asked, “You can view different layers?” Sunset nodded. “Huh. That sounds neat. But that sounds like something none of us can do.” She swept a hoof across the car. “None of us are truly connected to the seal.” Twilight’s expression darkened. “Not… yet…” Sunset remained silent, as did the rest of the car. Several eyes turned to Sunset again, and several sets of mouths frowned. Tempest, however, shook her head. “These seals keep mentioning something about Consensus. What is Consensus?” “Yeah,” Spike said as he stood up in his seat. “I’ve been wondering that too. All the seals have mentioned it. I saw a little bit of that stuff on all of those other papers too.” “Except for ours,” Twilight said. “Yeah…” “Yes,” Celestia said, her tone grave. “The other seven mention it. However, they don’t seem to explain what Consensus is. They made no mention of any of the details about it. I’ve read all of these for myself already, and it’s just as much a mystery to me as it is for the rest of you.” “How strange,” Tempest said. “This Consensus sounds very important for it to not say anything about it.” Sunset narrowed her eyes. “Yeah. This is weird.” Twilight sat back in her seat. “I’m not sure what the meaning behind this text is either. And then there’s that point Princess Luna brought up that the Nameless’ seal uses modern-day names.” “Yeah,” Starlight said with a snort. “How is it that it knows we call it that?” Spike shrugged. “Same way it knows about—” “Spike,” Celestia sharply interrupted. Spike clasped his claws over his mouth. Sunset perked up. “Knows about what?” The rest of the car also turned their attention to Celestia. And Celestia took a moment to regard them before centering her glare on Spike. Spike shrunk under her gaze. “I’m sorry,” he said as he kicked his legs about, “I saw some of it, and… you know.” “What are you talking about, Spike?” Spike shook his head. “It’s nothing.” Sunset threw her hooves into the air. “Oh, come on. What is it?” Celestia shook her head. “Nothing you should worry about, Sunset. I’ve just been leaving out a few small parts. That’s all.” “Okay. What do they say?” Celestia took a deep breath and met Sunset in the eyes. “Sunset Shimmer…” Sunset frowned. “Are you…? For buck’s sake! I’m getting really tired of getting left out of all this. Please. Just tell me what the buck it bucking says.” Twilight gasped and then hid that gasp behind her hoof. Her glance darted between Sunset and Celestia. Tempest’s expression remained unchanged. She regarded Sunset at first and then eventually fixed her gaze on Celestia. Spike folded his claws together and frowned. He eventually also fixed his gaze on Celestia. Starlight, meanwhile, couldn’t decide where she wanted to look. She gripped the edge of the seat with her hoof. Celestia sighed. “Very well, Sunset. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She held the papers up. “As you can probably guess, every seal other than our own ends with the same sentence.” Sunset relaxed and straightened up. “Okay.” Celestia opened her mouth to speak but then took another glance at the papers again. Her eyes darted to Sunset and back again. And then she presented the papers. “Perhaps you should see it for yourself.” Sunset grabbed the papers with her own magic and then held them in front of her own face. Her eyes immediately drew to the bottom where she found the last sentence in question. Most of it was as she had just heard. But the end of it made her shudder. She recognized what lay at the end. She flipped to some of the other pages and found the last sentence on them as well. They all had the same last sentence. They all had the same last words of that last sentence. Twilight shifted in her seat. “What does it say?” Sunset remained silent for a few moments more. And then, with a subdued voice, she read, “For the good of Consensus, you would do well to observe this, Sunset Shimmer.” The train car fell silent again save for the seemingly eternal click-clack as the train ran down the tracks. Everyone’s eyes (even the guards) fell on Sunset now, watching her intently. For their parts, Spike and Starlight had tensed up and Tempest’s frown had deepened. And Twilight looked as white as a sheet. Sunset’s legs wobbled and then gave way underneath her; her expression, however, remained unchanged. She finally sucked in a breath. “The seal knows about me.” Celestia nodded. “Yes.” “So… Does that mean it knew you would be sealed away a long time ago?” Tempest asked. Sunset nodded solemnly and floated the papers back to Celestia who received them. “Yeah…” She sighed. “This whole business was decided before I was even born.” Twilight made a squeaking noise. Sunset shook her head. “But I guess I could have told you I was always going to be sealed away myself. Time is fixed. ‘Is, was, will be.’” Starlight shook her head and stamped a hoof against the seat. “No. I don’t believe that. There must have been something we could have done.” She glanced around the car, taking in their raised eyebrows as she went. “I mean… look at all of the stuff that it’s talking about. We have figured none of that stuff out.” Tempest hummed. “Yes. There’s still all of that to go through.” Sunset nodded. “Yeah. If only we had more time to actually sit down and figure this out. I’d like to know where this all goes and what this all means.” “Do you think we could figure it out in the next few hours?” Starlight asked. “No,” Sunset replied with the shake of her head. “It’s kinda too bucking late for that.” Starlight paled. “But… we could have done it.” “I would think so. But if we wanted to do something, we should have done it several days ago. I wish I would have known about this a lot sooner,” Sunset said, pointing to the papers in Celestia’s magic. “Maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess.” Celestia went to speak, but a sharp squeaking from Twilight made her (and everyone else, for that matter) pause. Twilight now shook like a leaf and she now rose to her hooves. Spike also stood up. “Twilight?” Twilight glanced between all of them but especially paused over Sunset. She then stumbled off the seat and landed in the aisle. And she started toward the car’s rear door. “I-I n-need to g-go take a moment,” she stammered. “I’ll be right back.” And the five of them watched as she stumbled toward the rear door—the guards flanking it watched her with their eyes as she approached them—and then disappeared into the car beyond. * * * Twilight stepped through the caboose’s door and emerged onto the rear platform. The metallic cacophony of the train rolling down the track greeted her. A steep cliff flanked the right side of the tracks and a sharp drop-off flanked the left. Grey clouds blanketed Equestria from far overhead. She slammed the door behind her and paced on that rear platform for a few moments, hyperventilating all the while. Her mind occupied itself with what she had done in the previous days. She thought about what Sunset had just said. “I wish I would have known about this a lot sooner. We wouldn’t be in this mess,” Sunset’s voice said in her head. Twilight continued pacing about the rear platform, her trembles growing worse all the while. Her expression became increasingly pained. And then, Twilight finally screamed. She screamed toward the heavens, both hoping that anyone and no one would hear. Tears now ran down her face but she kept her footing and continued aimlessly wandering that rear platform. And then nothing happened. Nothing changed. The train continued on, rumbling closer to its destination. And closer to the end. It was not her end, but an end that was because of her. * * * Sunset glanced over the edge of a large crevice and into the bottomless blackness below. She then looked up and spied the end of a mining cart rail jutting over the far end of the expanse. This was the crevice that led down to the chamber. The bottom was at least a couple of miles down. Her eyes found some ledges that occasionally presented themselves around the perimeter of the crevice, providing a step-stone path down its entire height. Celestia came up behind her carrying Spike on her back. Starlight and Tempest did so as well and then passed them entirely; Starlight wrapped herself in her own magic and levitated herself into the crevice while Tempest started hopping down the sides. Celestia flapped her wings and hovered over the expanse. But she turned to face Twilight who now joined them. It was when Sunset leaned forward that Twilight placed a hoof on her withers. “Sunset?” Twilight asked. “Can I… talk to you for a second?” Sunset looked over at Twilight, saw her pained expression, and then looked up at Celestia. Celestia nodded solemnly and then began descending into the hole. “Yeah. What is it?” Sunset replied. Twilight kicked the ground. “I just… Sunset… I wanted to say…” A knot ran up and down her throat. Sunset sucked in a breath as she looked Twilight in the face. “Twilight?” “I’m sorry,” Twilight said at length. “I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry… for everything that I have done to you.” Sunset frowned. “Twilight…” Twilight grimaced. She continued drawing circles in the dirt. “I… I want you to know that I never wanted to push you out like I did. I wanted…” “I know.” “I wanted to protect you, Sunset.” She jabbed her chest. “I wanted to keep you safe!” “I know,” Sunset said. She shook her head and paced for a few moments. “But for buck’s sake, Twilight. I wanted in on this. I would have wanted to know several days ago!” Sunset looked over and met Twilight in the eyes. “And Twilight… I did know several days ago.” Now Twilight froze completely. Sunset felt at her neck. There was nothing there now, but there would have been had she been human. “In the human world, my geode allows me to see into the minds of others. And when we fought… I caught a little bit of what you and Celestia said. It didn’t take much after that to figure everything out.” Twilight swallowed and then nodded solemnly. “I… see. Darnit…” “Twilight, I get it. You didn’t want me to know the horrible truth. It sucks. But didn’t we go through something like this once? You died fighting the Nameless the first time. The only reason you were able to come back was because we worked together!” “That was different!” Twilight cried. “Your life is not mine to give!” Sunset backpedaled for a moment before her expression hardened again. “And yet here I’m about to give it,” she grumbled. “That is what I was trying to avoid!” Twilight sniffed and wiped something out of her eyes. “Don’t you get it?” she wheezed. “You are here because of me, Sunset. You’re here because I was so reckless and because I was so afraid. You wouldn’t have gotten tethered like you were. You wouldn’t have had to wait all this out.” She sniffled again. “This is all my fault, Sunset.” Sunset’s lip quivered. She said nothing. “And now you’re about to pay for my mistakes. Your blood is about to be on my hooves.” Tears now streamed down Twilight’s face and she sniffled even more. Sunset stepped forward and reached up. “Twilight…” “No!” Twilight exclaimed, pulling away while batting away Sunset’s hoof. “Don’t you dare say that it’s okay, because it’s not!” Sunset recoiled. “I wasn’t—” “I feel so awful, Sunset. This is not okay.” She sniffed again. Sunset narrowed her eyes, let out a little growl, and then swiped. Her hoof hit Twilight square in the jaw. Twilight cried out and stumbled backward, reeling from the hit. She went quiet; she even held her sobs back. The cavern hung in silence. And neither of them moved for several moments. She felt at the offended area and then looked up at Sunset with wide eyes. Sunset sucked in a breath and shook her head. “Twilight… what I need from you… is to not cry. Because I really need my last memory of you to not be you crying.” Twilight swallowed and said nothing. Sunset pursed her lips. “Plus, if you start crying, I will lose my nerve on all this, and then who knows what I’ll do? So please…” After a moment’s pause as Twilight considered Sunset, during which Twilight rubbed her cheek some more, she nodded. She still said nothing for several moments. She wiped some tears out of her eyes and then hung her head. “I’m sorry…” She grimaced. “I just wanted to protect you… I just… wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t have to go through with this.” Sunset remained silent, even when Twilight snuck a glance up at her. She shifted in place but made no moves to say anything. She wasn’t sure what she could say just yet. She wasn’t sure if there was anything left to be said. And so Sunset lit her horn. The space around the both of them stretched and then collapsed into a single point. It expanded back out a moment later, spitting them out in an environment someplace else. Twilight gasped and looked around. A chasm stretched up into infinity above their heads. The ground that they stood on now, evidently, was the bottom of that chasm. The only other exit was a singular tunnel off to the side. Sunset knew that the top of the Nameless’ chamber was a few feet below their hooves. The tunnel would hang a left, spiral down, and then meet the chamber. They were close. And, from the ghastly look on Twilight’s muzzle, Sunset could tell she knew where they were. She could tell that she had brought them closer. And, finally, some words came to her. “We can’t always get what we want,” Sunset croaked. “We can’t win them all.” More color drained from Twilight’s face. Sunset then turned and started for the tunnel. That left Twilight to stand there, in the middle of that space, all by herself. That left Twilight to falter. * * * Twilight trudged along. The tunnel hung a gradual left and descended slowly. She wasn’t sure how long she had been making her way down it; it had been a while immeasurable, that was for sure. But she knew the features along the way. She knew how the sides ebbed and flowed; she knew where the imperfections were. She knew where she was; not far away. She heard hoofsteps behind her and she looked over her withers to find Starlight, Tempest, and Celestia briskly approaching, with Spike sitting on Celestia’s back. They came up to her, and while they slowed down for her, she sped up for them. And now the five of them moved as one in silence. The tunnel continued on its gradual left. And then, finally, they saw it make a sharp left up ahead. And it was there that they spotted Sunset staring in. She didn’t even look over as they came up to her. The short tunnel leading into the doorway was lit a lavender color by the large, hemispherical chamber beyond. A pair of portals, leading to alternate versions of the chamber, sat on each side of the pathway. Some ponies trotted through those portals, looking over documents or holding conversations as they went. Many bodies hung in the entryway itself while some bodies, in the chamber beyond, carried stuff out. A few moments later, many figures emerged through one of the portals. Six of them, in fact. One was a large hippogryph with a white coat and a fuchsia mane and tail. One was a large, green changeling with orange horns. One was a yak wearing gold on his horns and on his beard. One was a black-coated griffon with a fez on his head. And one was a blue-scaled dragoness who was busy finishing her sentence with the final of the six to pass through. And Princess Luna nodded. “Yes, we have gotten very fortunate in this case. We may avert this disaster, and—” The words died in her throat as she spotted Celestia and the rest of them standing nearby. She then gasped and galloped over. “Sister! Sunset Shimmer! Everyone! You’re here!” Celestia nodded. “Yes.” King Thorax, the changeling, came up from behind Luna. “Princess Celestia, is it true? We can seal the Nameless fragment away?” Celestia nodded again. “Yes.” The hippogryph, Queen Novo, let out a sigh and chuckled. “Phew. That’s a relief. I was getting pretty worried there.” “Good,” Prince Rutherford, the yak, agreed. “Let Prince Rutherford seal Nameless fragment away. Yaks best at sealing away things.” The griffon, known simply as Grampa Gruff, snorted in response. Sunset looked back and met eyes with Twilight for a moment. Neither of them said anything. And then Dragon Lord Ember looked at them, narrowed her eyes, and crossed her arms. “So, where is it?” she asked with a pointed tone. At that, several of the faint smiles in the entryway faded, and everyone began craning their necks to get good looks at them. And they found nothing. The confused frowns set in. Sunset sighed through her nose. “Twilight?” Twilight made a squeaking noise in response. “I’m ready,” Sunset said. When Twilight didn’t immediately respond, Sunset started toward the doorway, passing through Luna and the others in the process. Luna, for her part, watched Sunset walk by with a raised eyebrow. She then looked at Celestia, and on seeing the vacant look in Celestia’s face, her frown deepened even more, and she turned back to watching Sunset. The last ponies climbed out of the chamber, leaving Sunset alone to face in. The many rings that made up the floor were still sequentially recessed, making a sort-of stairway toward the exposed column in the center. They still periodically flashed white, making a wave effect that traveled inward. Now Twilight trotted up to join Sunset at the lip. And the two stared into the chamber together. Sunset then turned to Twilight, prompting Twilight to turn and face her as well. The two stared into each other’s eyes for many moments but neither made a sound. Celestia came up alongside Luna, her frown still deep and pensive. On seeing that, Luna lost a little color in her face. Everyone else in the entryway looked on in deathly silence. Finally, Sunset walked forward, wrapped her hooves around Twilight, and pulled her in close. That caused Twilight to gasp. Slowly, surely, vacantly, she wrapped her hooves around Sunset in kind. And then Twilight closed her eyes so tight that wrinkles proliferated across her muzzle. And, an eternity later, Sunset let go. She gave one last look at everyone. And then she turned and descended into the chamber. And Twilight couldn’t help but reach out to Sunset as she went, her face as white as a sheet. Starlight fell to her haunches and began sobbing. Spike sniffled. Tempest watched in silence; her mouth twitched. Luna glanced behind her, gasped at their reactions, and then whirled to face Celestia. Only then did she spot the teardrop that meandered down Celestia’s stoic face. And then she gasped even louder. “Oh, stars!” For every ring in the floor that Sunset trotted over, the symbols within shone with light and the ring itself began rotating in place. More and more of the chamber woke up as she descended. It was as if the seal was reacting to her. Twilight knew what it was. Just as the crystal ball took mental commands, so too did the seal. And the seal had accepted a command to start up. It had not been her command; she had not made one. Rather, it seemed, it had been Sunset’s. Luna lunged forward. That prompted Celestia to also lunge forward and hold Luna in place. Luna briefly struggled in Celestia’s grip but didn’t make it far. By the time Sunset reached the bottom and hobbled into the cavity within the stone pillar, all the rings rotated in place. The rumble was now a roar as the chamber moved this way and that. Sunset wobbled on her hooves but remained standing within that central cavity. The doors groaned. The entryway shook as they shifted and then began sliding together. The doors themselves, as they emerged from the wall, revealed depictions of strange, quadrupedal beings that were decisively non-pony. At that moment, it seemed that, even without eyes, those beings were glaring down at all of them. No one dared to make a sound. Twilight backpedaled. She backpedaled beyond where the large stone doors recessed into the walls. She backpedaled until she was clear of them. Her breaths became more labored with every step she retreated. And then she too fell on her haunches. She could still see down into the chamber. Sunset turned. She turned to look up at Twilight along with the rest of them for the last time. And, for a split second, Twilight saw it. Sunset remained resolute and silent, but her face was stained with tears. And then, at long last, by all reckoning, the doors on Sunset Shimmer’s existence closed with a resounding thud. The shaking intensified, throwing streams of dust off the ceiling in its wake. There was a sharp whine audible from the other side of those thick stone doors. The cacophony continued several seconds more. Eventually, however, streams of energy snaked through the doorway and the doorway itself flashed once. At that point, the rumbling began dying down, and everything eventually fell silent once more. A few in the entryway made some astonished coos as they looked at the doors. A few shared some hushed conversations. Luna dug herself into Celestia, with Celestia wrapping herself further around Luna in turn. The two sobbed together. Starlight reached for Spike and he ambled over to her, and the both of them sobbed. Everyone else in the cavern now looked on in silence. And Twilight remained sitting in front of those stone doors. She sniffled and sobbed and then, finally, full-on wailed. She futilely banged her hooves against those stone doors, leaning further into them each time. Finally, she fell against them and collapsed. Her screams and cries echoed through the tunnel, and beyond into infinity. * * * On top of a mountain within a large, purple-tinted cavern, a mare who lay chained to the ground via a collar around her neck suddenly felt air rush back into her lungs. She heaved as it came back all at once. A lot of color returned to her onyx-colored coat. In fact, in some ways, she visibly inflated. And her eyes shot open, revealing a sparkling green color. Her wings, long-dormant by her sides, shifted and even flapped once. Her horn, also long-dormant, let off some sparks of magic but remained unlit. The alicorn mare exhaled and then continued staring into space. She inhaled, and then she exhaled. And then she looked up. She slowly and shakily rose to her hooves. Her silver mane fell out of the way of her face as she went, allowing unobstructed vision. Her jaw hung as she glanced about, not looking for anything in particular. The chains clinked as she went, but she didn’t even notice. She felt a sensation she knew she had not felt for several months. She could sense a familiar energy. She could feel energy flowing through her as a result. For the first time in a long time, she felt alive once more. And what she felt was impossible. It was at that point that she wobbled and then took a seat. And then her mind went to work on processing what she had just felt. Her mind went to work on processing what had just happened. For, she knew, something had happened.