Twilight fades from the nightmare into a dream. This is unlike any dream she has ever had, however: the events are out of order and blur past quickly. The events make sense but also do not, and Twilight cannot help but feel that all of this will come to pass. Figures are familiar but are warped beyond recognition almost as if to obscure the direct truth. This vision gives a disjointed tale of love fading into bottomless hunger, the futility and eventual convergence of good and evil, and the birth of a deity. Light guides Twilight through this, but shadow guides her out.
A sky darkened by a plague of insects, shards of a shattered crystal, and vacant throne flash by. She feels freezing cold, but suddenly feels warm again. The moon is out, and there is a tiara on the floor. It’s day again, and she hears a sickening crunch sound. Everything is now enveloped in light, and monsters all around the world are burnt. A catharsis washes over Twilight along with an ethereal warmth. A pony stands up on their hind legs as they ascend to the heavens. The sun no longer rotates the planet, quite the opposite is happening. Canterlot’s waterfall runs red. In a dark moonlit room, a collection of teeth clatter onto a tile floor. Cloudsdale is now nothing but partially consumed pegasus carcases. A castle is covered in nests, it is purged with righteous fire. The graveyard that is Ponyville falls into great disrepair, time eventually completely erasing its existence. Ponies go blind from the sheer brightness of a god. A red horn sits atop a fine pillow, a slight mist of smoke erupting from its tip. An underground temple is exposed to the elements. A great battle plays out between Canterlot’s army and an invasive enemy. The enemy is ruthless. A pegasus sheds her feathers. There is hope down beneath the mountain. Magic is scarce. A dawn casts a new kind of light on the world. Grand stories of good triumphing over evil and evil subverting good are now much different in scale. Twilight’s blood runs cold as the day she lost her friends. A servant of a princess is hopelessly infatuated. Skin falls off, revealing a carapace. “Accetach uei fae’deq.” is a phrase that echoes in Twilight’s mind. Twilight feels teeth sink into her foreleg. The pain burns her, but she’s better than this. If the cycle is not broken, then goodness will take five centuries to resurface. If the cycle is broken, then good will never again have power like it does now. An image of Starswirl fades into view along with a grandfather clock. The clock’s gears click and grind, causing this vision to come to a screeching halt. Starswirl winks at twilight, and in doing so his eye turns pitch black. Two straps come to create an eyepatch on Starswirl, and he fades into the pure black backdrop behind him.