//------------------------------//
// Chapter 74: Below the Dome, and Outside 
// Story: The Life of Penumbra Heartbreak 
// by Unwhole Hole 
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The area encircled by the Citadel’s shield was large. Arguably, the space so circumscribed was large enough to be considered a nation-state of its own. Indeed, it had once been, long before Sombra had formed it into the shining counterpoint of his Empire. Likewise, even before the war, it had been the only place not to begin to succumb to the slow decay that had afflicted many of the farther districts of the Crystal Empire as the energy of the Heart of Darkness waned. 
Now, it stood as the last bastion of the Crystal Empire, the only region not fully overwhelmed by Equestrian forces. Few if any troops remained beyond the shield, and none of the remaining Dark Thirteen stood in combat. For now, the last of the Empire could only rely on power of the Citadel, and of the Heart of Darkness itself. 
With the thralls withdrawn, nearly every crystal pony in the Empire had been recalled to the space beneath the unbreakable dome. Almost by instinct, though, they had begun to congregate at the very center of the large space offered to them, toward the Citadel itself. 
When Penumbra finally arrived at the base of her home and former prison, she found herself without words. 
She understood war in that it had been programmed into her from birth. The thought had never fully occurred to her that she was different than regular ponies. To her, the thralls had always seemed to be nothing more than lurking things in the distance, silent servants that were useful but little more. Now she understood that they were more than that. They were ponies. 
Unlike Penumbra, crystal ponies did not heal the instant they were injured. They were neither immortal alicorns nor the spawn of dark unicorns. Before her, at the very center of the kingdom, lay the injured. They were bruised, battered, and broken. Some showed the marks of magical injury, either from the enemy or from their own nation’s lasers, while others were afflicted with outright curses. There were broken bones, sprained joints, an occasional incidence here and there of the poke- -and all of them were in pain. 
“What...what is this?” asked Penumbra, wishing that she could put her hooves over her ears to block out the pitiful, quiet crying of the injured- -or to run back to the battle where she did not have to think about its costs. 
“It’s the best we can do,” said Facet. She was no longer connected to a winch, but she still wore a large hook on the back of her armor. “I volunteered for retrieval. The rest, well...I couldn’t do it. I just...I couldn’t.”
Penumbra looked up and saw ponies running between the injured, using what supplies they had managed to find in the castle to form bandages and splints. None of them were doctors- -crystal ponies were forbidden from even learning to read, let alone knowing medicine- -but they had come to serve as nurses regardless.
Then, across the makeshift hospital, Penumbra spied perhaps the only pony other than her who was not a crystal pony. She immediately found herself running through the rows. As she did, she was completely and fully aware of the ponies that cried out and fled her presence. Each and every one of them was afraid of her, now more than ever. Even in her battered armor, even bearing the black standard of the Crystal Empire, even after extended combat with the very leaders of the enemy armies, she still looked oh so much like Daybreaker. 
“Burnt? Burnt!”
Burnt turned her head, and a sad smile crossed her face. She was dressed in an exceedingly small nurses costume, and seemed to show just the barest sign of being exceedingly, overwhelmingly tired. 
“Princess!” she said, running to Penumbra and wrapping her in a crushing hug. “Oh! It’s YOU! Probably!” She gasped and jumped back. “Unless Celestia is smaller than I thought.” She leaned forward and whispered. “I heard she has a biiiiiig butt. Unless you are her. Then your butt looks great, please don’t immolate me.”	
“Burnt, it’s me.”
Burnt smiled. “Oh. I thought so. You came just in time.” She gestured toward her various patients.
“I didn’t know you knew medicine.”
“I don’t! All I know how to do is give really, REALLY good hugs!” She picked up one of her patients and hugged him hard. “But hugs don’t heal broken bones! No matter how hard- -I- -TRY!”
A crack came from the back of the crystal pony, and his eyes widened. “My fragile spine...”
“Oops. Sorry.”
“No. No, it was a good hug...ehhhhh….”
A crystal pony with a bandage over one eye sat up. “Me next?”
“Oh, sure!” Burnt put down the now somewhat floppy pony she was hugging previously and moved onto the next one. All of the other ponies in the area, no matter how injured, were sitting up expectantly, waiting to be pressed against a soft, chocolate/coffee-scented unicorn. Penumbra smiled, because in all the chaos it was nice to see that at least some of the crystal ponies were not softly and pitifully crying.
“The stallions really like it,” said Burnt, hugging her patient. “And that one really big mare.”
“Where are the other consorts?”
Burnt’s expression fell and she set her patient down. “You didn’t hear?”
“No. What happened?”
Burnt looked down at the ground. “Anypony with magic was sent to fight. All the other girls had to go. I can’t, because...well...” She pointed to the dimeritium ring on her horn. “And they...they’re not coming back.” 
Penumbra gasped, putting her hooves over her mouth. “Burnt...”
Facet had caught up with Penumbra. “We heard it over the crystal radio, before it went out. We don’t know what happened to all of them, but most were captured.”
“They took Freeflight, Penumbra.” Tears were welling in Burnt’s eyes. “What was Freeflight supposed to do out there? He’s just a little guy, and he can’t even fly.”
“I don’t know.” It was all Penumbra could say. 
“It doesn’t matter,” said Facet, producing one of her carved crystals and examining it closely. “What’s done is done. We can’t change the past.”
“No,” said Penumbra, wondering if that was really even true. “We can’t. So we have to do what we can for now. We have to put our faith in Sombra.”
“I’d really rather not,” said Facet, darkly.	
Penumbra looked out at the wounded. “Yeah. I think I understand why. But can you think of a better option?”
“We can help them,” said Burnt.
Penumbra looked at her, confused for a moment, and then nodded. “Yes,” she said, ejecting several of the least functional components of her armor. “I was programmed with some restoration spells. I think I can help.”
She lowered part of the midsection of her armor, revealing her wings. She then approached one of the injured, who suddenly appeared terrified.
“N- -NO! Stay away with me! Please! I can still stand! It isn’t even that bad, it’s not even broken, I promise! I can still fight! Don’t- -don’t do it! I HAVE A FAMILY HAVE MERCY!” 
Penumbra’s eyes widened and she took a step back. “Wh...what did you think I was going to do?”
Burnt and Facet looked at each other. From the expressions on their faces, they both knew, but would not say. 
Facet put her hoof on Penumbra’s shoulder. “Come on. Maybe we should guard the perimeter?”
Penumbra looked at the terrified pony cowering before her, and the others staring at her, each with their eyes wide and afraid like his. 
“Of course,” she said, lowering her head. “That is a good idea.”

Although the explosions were distant, they were still concerning. From his perch atop a particularly angular piece of rubble, Lacy Pants watched, mentally charting their location. He had seen the signs, and his concern grew. The beams of light, the strange sun: they were signs that heralded the true form of the White Queen. Her presence was indeed a dark omen. 
“Ugggggggghhhhhhh,” moaned Baron Blueblood below. He was lounging in a chair while being fanned by several earth-pony servants. “Why is it so  hooooot?” 
“An hour ago, you claimed it was too cold. You whined that we needed to snuggle together to conserve warmth.”
Blueblood blushed blue. Several yards from him, Rancine De’Lis laughed quietly.
“I did NOT!” he bellowed, nearly falling out of his chair. “That is foulest SLANDER!”
“Perhaps,” said Rancine, “you would not be so warm if you shaved that ridiculous beard?”
“Ridiculous!? How dare you! My beard makes me look MANLY!” He stood suddenly, nearly falling over in the process. “And what about YOU, then? Do you not even realize how ugly you are?”
Rancine’s eyes narrowed, and Blueblood took a step back.
“I am the epitome of femininity.”
“You are THIN. Nopony wants a thin mare! A proper mare ought to be plump! Plump plump plump! The fatter the better! Thin will NEVER be attractive!”
“Oui, gros comme votre mère obèse.”
“And stop speaking that stupid made-up language! It does not make you look smart!”
“Arrête de tourmenter le fou,” sighed Lacy. 
Rancine shrugged. “Quoi? Ça m'excite. Être une jument est un travail libidineux.” 
Blueblood covered his ears. Then, in a bid to distract himself, he tugged on a rope at the side of his chair. At its far end, a pony was dragged toward him. An exceedingly effeminate Pegasus. 
“You there, bird-horse! Distract me from these idiots!”
The Pegasus glared at him, but did not speak.
“Come on! Up-up! Fly around a bit! Entertain your new owner!”
“I cannot fly. My wings have been crippled.”
Blueblood looked disgusted. “Then what good are you?!” He promptly punched the Pegasus in the face- -although, of course, he was a Blueblood, so his blow was roughly equivalent to a soft caress from a three-day-old foal. 
“At least I can try to breed it,” he muttered. “Even though I’d rather have a zebra...”
“It’s a gelding, you sot. And Celestia knows why you would vant MORE, they already breed like mice.”
“Gelding? What’s a gelding?” Blueblood looked at the Pegasus stallion, then at Rancine. “Does it mean girly? So is Lacy a gelding the- -EEP!”
Blueblood was promptly overturned in his chair.
“As your mother, sisters, and daughter can no doubt attest,” said Lacy, who had tipped Blueblood out of his chair, “I am INDEED a stallion, and, more importantly, a gentlecolt.”  He turned to the Pegasus. “And you have no need to fear. Nopony owns you. Not anymore. I would like to believe you have been liberated. From the ones that took your wings, as well as your stallionhood. Depending on the damage, our surgeons may be able to repair your wings. I will see to it personally.”
This caused the Pegasus’s eyes to flick toward Lacy, but only for a moment. Lacy smiled, ostensibly softly.
“You can be reintegrated into Equestrian society. Even as a gelding, you will of course have the respect and rights of any other citizen. Although...” He paused. “There will of course be an interrigation. Standard practice. Anything you can tell us concerning Sombra’s manufacturing techniques, mining operations, or any unique spells or magical aspects he may have acquired. Or even his current wearabouts, maybe?”
The Pegasus sat on his haunches and crossed his front legs. He stared directly into Lacy’s eyes. Indeed, he was a handsome fellow. “I will tell you NOTHING.”
“Fine.” Lacy fired a devastating pain spell, instantly rendering the Pegasus unconscious and smoldering. “Then I have no use for you.” 
Rancine giggled. “Oh, my. Shine is going to be very cross vith you, Lacy.”
“What Glittershine does not know will not hurt her.”
Lacy turned away from the unconscious Pegasus. As he did, he slowed. Something was wrong.
“Overexert yourself, Lacy?” joked Blueblood. “I never have that problem, of course. Impeccable stamina and all.”  
“Do you  sense that?”
“Sense what?”
“Not you, Blueblood. De’Lis!”
Rancine stiffened. If he was using her house name, the situation must indeed have been serious.
“No. I feel...” she turned her head sharply. “Wait...maybe...what in Epona’s name is it?”
“There’s nothing there!” cried Blueblood, immediately becoming unduly agitated. “I don’t sense a thing!”
“Because Celestia has not been overseeing your pedigree for two thousand years. Guards!”
The subordinate military officers surrounding the purebloods immediately stood at attention. The colored purebloods immediately put on their helmets, although they had already felt it too. Although they were not white, their blood was equally pure and their power strong. 
“Could it be her?” asked Rancine. “Zee heretic Princess?”
“I don’t know,” said Lacy, forming up Rancine and the support mages as the earth-ponies and Pegasi took the outer perimeter. “I can’t tell.”
“You’re the only one who’s seen her!”
“Through a palantir. It’s not the same.”
“Wait,” said Blueblood, confused. “When did they get a princes- -”
Something dropped into the center of the forward formation. Blue light flashed and ponies screamed, the forward mages having had their horns bashed and the earth-ponies afflicted with a devastating spell. The Pegasi leapt into the air, taking flight, and the rear mages cast a defensive barrier.
A shape whirred through the forward force, knocking several Pegasi out of the air and crushing through the earth-pony defense. The angle was bad, and Lacy could not see it clearly- -but he saw the flashing of a fully ignited crystal spearhead. 
“Forward! CONVERGE!”
The mages obeyed, powering through each other’s shields to advance- -only for the figure to leap onto their spells, balancing on the circular energy and using it as a direct path toward the center of the line.
“I shall stop her,” said Rancine. “Cover me, Pants!”
Lacy read the spell she was forming, and concurred. He shattered the shields of the mages around him, using the feedback wave as they collapsed to drive the attacker back and block her path. As she fell, she twisted in the air. For a moment, he saw her: a white earth-pony with platinum hair, clad in Crystal Empire armor of a unique design that he had never seen before. 
He struck, using a spell meant to propagate violently through her bones. It hit her square in the chest, but had no effect. She simply ignored it, her marrow absorbing the blast. 
Lacy’s eyes widened. She was not an earth-pony at all.
Then he saw her eyes- -and her face. Without the makeup, he had not been sure, but in that instant he knew. He had seen her many times before, always through the palantir. The palantir her family had created. 
“Rancine! ABORT!”
It was too late. The end of Rancine’s horn bloomed with a brilliant lily flower, and a deafening blast poured forth. 
The steward of the Crystal Empire braced herself, driving one end of her spear into the ground and the point of it directly into the wave. The magic was absorbed, channeled through the spear like a lightning rod, diverted by the spells built within its crystal tip. As the tip overheated and burst, the steward dashed around the edge of the spell, and before Rancine could react punched her in the base of her horn, immediately sending a crippling feedback wave into her skull. 
She turned toward Blueblood, who immediately began to leak and fell to the ground.
“Parlay! PARLAY!”
“ENCIRCLE!” 
Lacy’s magic grasped Blueblood by the tail and pulled him back while the other mages surrounded the steward. Her spear had been lost, and her hair swept aside to reveal the scar where her horn had once been. She no longer had any source of magic.
“Stand down,” said Lacy, quietly, pointing his horn at her and circling near her. Rancine and three of the subordinate mages began to do the same, making sure she had no exit. 
“If you came to surrender, you’ve saved us a great deal of time.”
She looked at him, clearly not amused- -or looked past him, as if he was not even there. This was mildly infuriating. 
“Surrender? To you? No. You were standing where I needed to be. I have no concern for you. Only Daybreaker. Leave. NOW.”
Blueblood laughed. “You’re not exactly in a position to bargain. Who do you think you are? You think that because you’re white, you’re some kind of pureblood?”
“Blueblood!” hissed Lacy.
The steward’s eyes narrowed, and Blueblood hid behind a much braver earth-pony. 
“What use have I for such antiquated concepts?  I am the last of my line. My beloved king made sure of that. Now. Lacy Pants. Out of respect for our previous roles, LEAVE.”
“Vhy?” asked Rancine, herself smiling as she circled closer and closer. “Vhat are you to do? You have no horn. And you are clearly not going anyvhere.”
“Going?” The steward raised an eyebrow. “Why would I go anywhere? I am standing exactly where I need to be.” 
Lacy looked around, confused as to what she meant. He almost knew. It was somehow obvious, but his mind was not making the connection.
Then what little color he had ran from him as he understood. 
“NO!” he cried. “Stop her! STOP HER NOW!” 
The steward smiled and with one swift, fluid motion plunged her hoof into the snow- -and drew out the Mask of Red Death.
“For the Witchking,” she whispered, pressing the Mask against her own face. 

Where she was, or had gone, or had been, she did not know. The whole world was infinite and flat, the view limits only by endless red fog. This, she knew, was not a place. It was where a great many things had ended and, before them all, one thing had be forced against all laws of nature to begin. 
She looked upward, staring through an endless screaming vortex of rage, sadness, fear, hatred, pain- -and loneliness. Profound, terrible loneliness. The sound was deafening. She was standing at the farthest tip of an endless tempest, and through it she saw the faces of those who had come before her. All but one. She could not help but wonder if the storm had been so terrible for the one who had managed to return.
A voice spoke to her. The truest voice of Scarlet Mist: the voice she shared with the pony she had once been. 
“So,” she said. “I get one last chance. One more. Because this will be the last. You know that, right? You will be my very last body. After you, I have no more use with this world, and no place within it. I will attach a curse to this mask, so that none can ever again wear it. Lucky you. You will be the last to know me.
“And I suppose you’re somewhat...unique. I am you. I see what you desire. And yes. I can give you the power of a god, at the cost of all your life force. You are one of the last of the perpetuals. Your time in this world could be nearly endless. But if you desire, I will devour it all.”
Princess Platinum looked up through the swirling vortex and smiled. “An eternity hornless in exchange for just one more chance to use my magic again? Even for a single minute, I would gladly trade it all. All of it, to be whole again.”
“If it holds. You are different than the others. Your soul motivation is love for Sombra, yet you are not rejecting me as Penumbra did. I do not understand.”
Princess Platinum laughed, softly. “For me? Love and hate are one and the same. Sombra took my father, my kingdom, my horn, my life...and gave me this role in its place. And so my love for him is ENDLESS.” 
The visage of the Mask of Red Death appeared at the apex of the vortex, its empty eye staring into Platinum’s soul. 
“So be it,” it said at last. 

The mages and wizards unloaded everything they could into Scarlet Mist’s body, but even the most powerful spells of an entire horde of purebloods could scarcely touch her. They could not stop the bands of red leather from appearing around her, wrapping and forming into scarlet clothing, merging themselves to the armor already present on the new host’s body. 
Then she lowered her head. For a moment there was a glimmer of hope, that she might be ready to fail, or to give, or to react in some way other than ignoring the magic around her. Then she lifted her head, and force of red energy protruded from the scar in her forehead, twisting itself into a long, curving scarlet horn. 
A dull thud echoed through the kingdom as gravity failed. Buildings and ponies alike rose into the air. Those around Scarlet Mist cried out, grasping for purchase, not yet fully realizing that they were  supported in her limitless magic.
Only one of them had reacted in time. Rancine had cast a floral shield, surrounding her and her compatriots with a powerful protective spell. As Scarlet Mist turned her gaze upon it, it disintegrated, only for every pony within to open fire. They strained their hardest, their magic merging into a single concerned beam even more powerful than the one that had destroyed Scarlet Mist’s last body.
Red light flickered from Scarlet Mist’s horn, and in an instant the offending mages were sealed in unbreakable crimson cubes. They cried out- -especially the female- -and struggled fruitlessly. 
“Platinum!” cried Lacy Pants, pressing his hooves against the wall of his cube. “Platinum, you have to listen to me! You have no idea what you’re doing! It isn’t too late- -”
“Yes it is,” said Scarlet Mist, tightening Lacy’s cube substantially and merging it with the others, packing the three white purebloods into one very small container. “It doesn’t work like that. This body’s previous owner is gone. There is only Scarlet Mist now.” She looked down at her sparking hooves, flexing them. “And what a body this is. So much HATE. So much POWER. But still not my body. Not even close. I hate it so much.” She looked up at the purebloods, and the ponies hovering around her. “And don’t think I don’t remember. What you did to me before.”
“We’re sorry!” cried Blueblood, who was literally weeping. “Please don’t eat us!”
Scarlet Mist shrugged. “I had considered unhorning you all. In fact...” her magic reached out, grasping their horns. They cried out as their most sensitive organs were pulled. “...it would not even be hard. You’d barely feel it. Probably. Just a little pluck, and you’re a nice cute earth-pony. Trust me, it is the barest fraction of being forcibly torn free of your own body.” She sighed. “But I don’t think she would want that.”
Lacy’s eyes narrowed. “How dare you- -”
“I don’t have time for you. I am now the most powerful being in this kingdom, at least for the next ten minutes or so. So hail your QUEEN.”
She threw every pony she was holding to the side, and then brought down the buildings she had been levitating on top of them, being sure to twist and grind them in. Then she turned her attention outward. 
Her power was without limit. She raised her horn to the sky, and red mist broke free from her spine, forming a pair of feathered red wings. Then she reached out to the kingdom at large.
Every deactivated thrall mask began to vibrate. The children of Scarlet Mist heard the call of their mother. They levitated as bodies were built behind them. Translucence constructs of red magic took the place of crystal ponies, and in an instant the entirety of the army was rebuilt. 
Scarlet Mist began to walk. The hulking wrecks of the dead and destroyed sky-ships began to rise, lifted simultaneously by her power. What pieces they lacked were replaced with red light, and magic bound and held them in place as they took to the skies once more. What were once cannons became transmitters of sheer might, and even without engines the new air-force took to the skies, prepared to rain destruction from above once more. 
And yet even that took only the barest effort. Never had Scarlet Mist realized the power of the pony that had stood beside the king for so long- -of a mage who had withstood three minutes fighting with Sombra. 
She stopped. “ARCHERS!”
Her constructs reacted to her will, summoning bows and pointing them to the skies. Scarlet Mist smiled. As much as she hated this body- -and every body she had ever inhabited- -this would at least be fun. “Loose.”
The sun was blotted out with red arrows. In a single instant, the battle had turned. The Equestrians had claimed victory, and none stood against them save for the smallest pockets of resistance- -and now, all alone, Scarlet Mist pushed them back, leveling their camps and ravaging their field hospitals. Pegasi took to the air, fleeing the fight, only to be downed by the newly risen ship. A few tried to resist, even as the cannons opened up and began to tear into their ground positions- -but even the resolve of those courageous ponies failed as the ground began to shake and rumble. Somewhere, a palantir blinked to life, for the first time in a long time sensing the magic of its user. 
All hope was lost as the dreadnought Monocerous rose from the ground and into the sky above. 
Yet all of this barely mattered. It was inconsequential. Perhaps if it had been sooner. If Celestia had been around to see it, perhaps reason would have prevailed- -but in the face of Daybreaker, all armies of Equestria were insignificant by comparison.
So she lifted away a path through the city, tearing the buildings from their foundations and throwing them aside. She formed a path where she stood in the center, halfway between the Goddess of the Sun and the Crystal Citadel. She was the final defense, the last possible defender. Scarlet Mist and Princess Platinum’s last act would be together: to put an end to Daybreaker, once and for all.