“So…” Fluttershy said, setting three white teacups down. Out of paranoia, Celia checked to see if it was enchanted or poisoned and immediately felt guilty afterward. “What’s your story?”
Outside, they heard the sounds of a bear playing joyfully with several swans and even a goose of all things. It was a melodious mixture of sounds no real forest would ever had, but was pleasing to the ear nonetheless. Perhaps better than pure nature. Celia had spent her fair share of days fighting random monsters from the depths of the wilderness, she knew how ugly it could get out there.
Still, though, meat tasted pretty good…
“I’m Colonel Suzie Belle,” Suzie began, holding the teacup carefully in her hands. “This is Celia, Chalcedony. We are part of something called the League of Sweetie Belles—an organization of, well, Sweetie Belles.”
“I figured as much,” Fluttershy said. “...I heard that there was another Sweetie here some time ago from Rainbow. Was she with you?”
“We are looking for her, but there’s another team on that.”
Fluttershy nodded in understanding, taking a moment to drink and enjoy the aroma of the tea. “I’m sorry I can’t help with that. She never visited me.”
“It’s not why we’re here, anyway.” Suzie leaned in. “We’re here because your city is suffering.”
“Yes.” Fluttershy said this matter-of-factly, with a tired sag in her wings. “Yes it is.”
Celia nodded ever-so-slightly to herself—that was a good response. So far, Fluttershy had only shown minor signs of corruption, namely a forced acceptance of the status quo. She clearly wasn’t satisfied with the state of Vision and was actively working against it, even if it seemed her efforts were worthless.
But she was one of the council members…
Celia cleared her throat. “If you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you fix it? You do have the power, don’t you?”
Fluttershy shook her head. “Vision is built on the idea that ponies make their own choices. Even… even if those choices hurt everypony, they have the right to make them.”
“...You don’t agree?”
Fluttershy’s gaze became lost in the ripples in her tea.
“You have an amazing Sanctuary here,” Suzie said. “You help anypony who comes.”
“They always choose to come,” Fluttershy breathed. Celia detected a hint of bitterness in there—like she didn’t want that to be the case. She was reminded of many Fluttershys she’d seen out in the multiverse being kind to everyone whether they liked it or not. The thought brought a smile to Celia’s lips.
“What would you think… if we came in and started helping them?” Suzie leaned in. “No matter what they thought about it?”
Fluttershy looked Suzie head on with her massive, deep eyes. “Is that what you do?”
“There’s an entire division of our government. The Aid Division. Their job is to distribute help to those who need it—even people in warzones that never want to stop fighting. Even evil empires who just need a powerful friend to change their ways.”
“My empire—the Gems—were one of the first to be changed by the system,” Celia offered. “We went from a xenophobic, genocidal race of conquerers to one of the most prevalent races in our multiversal nation.” She dissipated her false horn to show her gemstone to Fluttershy. “That was decades ago, our time.”
“I see…” Fluttershy clicked her tongue, taking a moment to think things over. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Suzie said—with a lot less impatience in her voice than Celia would have expected.
“Maybe. I can’t make the decision on my own. The others need to be involved. And Twilight…”
“Twilight’s not dead?” Celia wasn’t exactly surprised, but this was new information.
“No, there were a lot of problems with her remaining in the public eye, so she faked her death. It… well I’m not sure if it made things better, but it made ponies stop shouting at us so much.” She took a moment to look out the window at various colorful birds sitting on the back of the tiger. “This city is her project, more than anything. She wants ponies to be free.”
“Then we’ll just have to go talk to her,” Celia declared.
“Yeah,” Suzie added.
Celia frowned. This Fluttershy sure was effective… Suzie’s anger had all but abated at this point. Her body language was even relaxed.
“I’ll set up an appointment,” Fluttershy said, walking over to a small radio sitting on a coffee table. “She’s rarely too busy to see us, but she does need advance notice. Ahem.” Pressing a button, she started speaking. “This is Fluttershy. I’d like to see Princess Twilight some time later today.”
A happy mare’s voice came back. “She’ll be ready at oh-twenty-hundred hours. Nice to hear from you, Fluttershy.”
“You too.” Fluttershy cut the call. “We’ll have to get on the tram in an hour or so, until then…” She poured some more tea. “Why don’t we get to know each other a little better? Vision hasn’t been kind to either of you…”
“We… don’t know where one of our number is,” Suzie said.
“Oh… I’m so, so sorry. I… don’t have as much of a network as the others but I can try to find her. She a Sweetie too?”
“Yeah…” Suzie said, breathing just a little too slowly. “Teenage, orange eyes. She was taken yesterday near the immigration office. We haven’t seen her since.”
Fluttershy couldn’t help but wince.
“You don’t like her chances…?”
“I’ll do what I can.” She put a wing on Suzie. “You just relax… take a break. You need it, more than anything.”
“...Thanks.”
Okay, something’s up, Celia decided. Time for a little test… sorry, Suzie. Taking a deep breath, Celia reached under Suzie’s shirt with her telekinesis, removing a small, hidden necklace. It was a simple silver chain with a tiny cross-shaped pendant on the end. Slowly, she removed it from Suzie’s neck and started spinning it around in the air.
“Hey, Celia?” Suzie asked. “What are you doing?”
“You really should be screaming bloody murder at me for daring to expose your little necklace, taking it without your permisison, and spinning it around without any regard for what it means.” She dropped the necklace into Suzie’s outstretched hands, turning to glare at Fluttershy. “What have you done to her?”
Fluttershy sighed. “I just showed her some kindness, Celia. That’s all. Why are you so defensive?”
“You’d be surprised at how powerful my mind is,” Celia said, smirking. “Three in one package.”
Suzie looked confused. “Celia, what are y—”
“She’s used some kind of brainwashing to remove your anger,” Celia interrupted.
“Oh.” Suzie accepted this with the slightest hint of annoyance, but didn’t have anything else to say.
“She was under a lot of stress and pain. I relieved that.” Fluttershy smiled sadly. “You could have that too, you know. It’s why ponies come here.”
“It’s why you keep ponies here,” Celia retorted. “They come here… and you don’t want to let them go. So you make them stay, don’t you?”
“They agreed to come here, Celia. It’s better for them if they stay.” For the first time since they’d met her, Fluttershy’s expression became hard. “It’d be better for all of Vision if everypony stayed. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To take their choice away, make them be good ponies?”
“There’s a distinct difference between setting laws in place to keep ponies from killing each other and brainwashing them,” Celia grunted. “For all our ‘duplicitous’ acts, we’ve never hypnotized a society into joining us.”
“Isn’t that what friendship is?” Fluttershy cocked her head. “A manipulative hypnosis of emotions. It’s just slower. I care about every one of the ponies and animals here, and I want them to be better ponies. Better for everypony. I feel what they feel, I cry when they cry, and I build them up when they are struggling. They live whole, meaningful lives at the bottom of the ocean where ponies are starving in the streets!” She stopped herself, sitting down and pulling her face back into a frown. “I’m doing what’s best for them.”
Celia frowned. “You know what, we can argue the ethics of this later. I’m sure Oversight will have a field day with you. But right now, our goals align, so fighting is pointless. Just release Suzie from this… whatever it is, and we can be on our way.”
“No,” Fluttershy said, shaking her head. “Suzie was in danger of destroying herself with her rage. She needs this. She was on the verge of breaking when you arrived an—”
“I don’t care. Release her.”
“No.”
“I sai—”
“I SAID NO!” Fluttershy shouted, the sudden fire in her voice tossing Celia over. “Suzie is happier this way. Isn’t that right, Suzie?”
Suzie nodded. “We really don’t have to fight.”
“Oh, this is screwed up…” Celia muttered. “At least when I changed, I got to make the choice.”
“You’re talking about taking the choice away from Vision!” Fluttershy flared her wings. “How hypocritical are you?”
“I don’t know, and frankly, don’t care at the moment, darling.” Celia dusted herself off. “I just know I need Suzie out of that stupor.”
“You don’t.”
“I d—”
Fluttershy activated the Stare. Celia’s triple-reinforced mind met the psychic attack head on, but couldn’t beat it outright. Her head pulsed with a splitting headache, forcing her to the ground. “Aaaaaaaagh!”
“We don’t need to fight,” Fluttershy said, focusing the Stare on Celia. “Please… let’s resolve this peacefully.”
Celia realized she was going to lose this battle of wills. There was nothing she could do.
“Suzie!” Celia screeched. “I don’t want this! Stop her!”
Suzie frowned. She may not have been angry, but she was sad. “Celia…”
“Suzie! Suzie! Listen to me! You are not a calm restrained little aaaaaaaaa—” Celia realized she didn’t have much time. She had to be as biting as she could be in the short amount of time at her disposal. “Suzie! You’ve forgotten about Cinder! Why are we having tea while we should be looking for her?” Nothing. “Suzie! Look at me? She’s changing me agaaaaaaaaa—” She took in a hard breath, losing all feeling in her legs. “Again! Again! Do we want to start over!?”
Suzie’s mouth twitched.
“This isn’t you! You’re angry. That’s what you are! I don’t care about vice or virtue right now, I care about you! She’s invading us and keeping you from care… care… care…” Celia’s breath began to slow. This was really exhausting. Maybe… just a little break. She’d…
No, get back u—
That’s enough out of you. Fluttershy’s Stare said.
We can’t…
Will it really be so hard to live without constantly fighting?
It… it would be nice… if we could be real friends aga—
“AAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Suzie grabbed her head and kicked Fluttershy in the face.
The animal noises outside stopped abruptly.
“W-w-what have you done!?” Fluttershy shrieked.
Suzie glared at her with the fury that could topple nations. “We ended your tyranny.”
“No!” Fluttershy cried, tears flowing down her eyes. “No!”
“Oh give it up, you’re just anoth-”
Something hit the window hard enough to shatter it. A little bluebird twitched, holding a disbelieving wing to its neck, coming back with copious amounts of blood from a predatory bite mark. It let out one last attempt at a chirp, ending with more of an agonized gag. Its blood ran through the green carpet, muddying everything with the pain of death.
Celia looked outside, having a pretty good idea what she was about to see and dreading it anyway.
The tiger jumped one of the sheep, tearing out it’s throat in a bloody shower that spewed blood and bits of flesh onto the grass. The birds descended from the treetops to pick the meat apart in a ravenous frenzy, for they had not tasted a real meal in their entire lives. Birdsong, once beautiful, had become a devastating chant of bloodshed. Foxes pounced, elephants trampled, and the Sanctuary ran red.
The ponies… the ponies were worse.
“Ha hah!” a red mare with numerous fire-related mantles shouted, landing in the middle of the blood. “I don’t know what I was thinking, the only good world is a burning world!”
“You died on me!” Tiller screamed, throwing the dead, mutated body of Rinse into a sheep carcass. “You asshole!”
“No! NO!” Fluttershy flew outside. “Everypony STOP!”
A few of the ponies looked up at her in bewildered confusion—lowering their defenses enough for the flaming mare to torch their eyes. “NOTHING BUT FIRE!”
“I did this…” Celia realized, hoof to her mouth.
“STOP!” Fluttershy used the Stare on the fiery mare, stopping her instantly—but that allowed another crazed mantle-pony to attack her. She was tackled to the ground.
The tiger jumped.
“ENOUGH!” Celia boomed, sending a pulse of darkness out that tossed everyone—pony and animal alike—onto their backs. A nearby flimsy tree cracked down the middle from the pressure, dropping several birds onto the ground below.
“Celia, what are you doing!?” Suzie asked.
“FIXING THIS.” Celia waved her hooves over the minds of all present. It was almost laughably easy to flip their inner switches back to the way they were before—after all, they really were happier under Fluttershy’s spell and had been under it for so, so long. Their instincts wanted to be suppressed, replaced by the Element of Kindness’ idea of harmony. Celia would never have been able to sustain such a connection with her magic; clever though she was, she was not a master of the mind.
But she could pick up the pieces and tie it back together.
It still took a massive drain on her magical reserves—she floated into the air, eyes white as she wound the loose mental threads back to Fluttershy, re-establishing the forced peace. The false peace.
It was as though everypony regained their senses. The flaming mare looked at her hooves and screamed. The tiger started puking up its guts. Several ponies burst into tears…
“I’m sorry…” Fluttershy heaved, trembling over the charred forms of ponies. “I wasn’t strong enough…”
“You were a monster,” Suzie spat. “This i—”
“Suzie, shut up,” Celia interrupted. “You’re making it worse.”
“Worse? You just put them back under mind control!”
“They were going to kill each other! If that’s the default state of ponies here in Vision… then things are better this way!”
Suzie stopped short. “Would it be better if you left me in her grasp?”
“Maybe! And right now I’m half tempted to stick you back in!” Celia stamped her hoof on the ground. “So keep yourself under control. I’m going to help Fluttershy tend to the wounded. The revive spell should work on some of them…”
“Revive spell!?” Fluttershy gasped. “Oh thank you thank you I don’t know what I’d do without th—”
“Would you can it!?” Suzie shouted.
“You should ‘can it’,” Celia hissed. “If you’re not going to help, go sit in the cottage until it’s time to meet Twilight.”
Suzie’s face twisted from frustration to confusion to indignant fury. She stormed into the cottage and slammed the door.
“She’s so angry…” Fluttershy sighed as Celia came back.
“That’s who she is,” Celia muttered as she restored a burnt pony—she woke up completely fine, no signs whatsoever of Coming Back Wrong.
“...Does it have to be?”
Celia remained silent as she healed another pony. Even though her stomach wasn’t created with the usual biological limitations normal ponies had, she still felt it tie into knots as the bones mended and flesh stitched back together.
~~~
He had blades fused to his hooves and a face covered in battle scars. He was a complete madpony with bloodstained hair and two eyes that never looked in the same direction. To him, life was one big hunt where everything and everyone was the target.
Being in a centimeter thick prison of bandages didn’t change that.
They had told him that they found him on the side of the road, bleeding out. He didn’t believe that, not for a minute. Bleed out? Him? Impossible. He was the hunter, they were the hunted. This was just some trick to get him to sit still. No death would come for him so they naturally needed to pacify him.
He’d show them. He’d show them all.
Every motion hurt, but it couldn’t have been real. More of their tricks. Ignore it.
He dragged his blades along the smooth, white floor, announcing his presence to the Pavillion. Unfortunately, there weren’t many ponies in this particularly hallway, so he only got one succulent morsel to notice him. A mare with an eyepatch.
“You okay there, bud?”
No hint of fear. He hated that.
He’d fix that.
He swung out with his bladed hooves. She was aware enough of her surroundings to jump back but wasn’t quick enough to avoid a cut across her cheek. “What the hell!?”
“You’ll be the example…” he growled, forcing his other hoof to push forward through the pain.
Instead of meeting the flesh of her neck, his blade impacted… a paper shield?
“Hi!” Cinder said, poking her head out from behind the shield and grinning cockily. Her water-ringed eye unsettled him considerably. “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said ‘adventure’ but I’ll take it.”
“What!?” He growled.
“Leave the poor mare alone and take your medical treatment like a good boy now.”
He twisted his bladed hoof back and went for her neck—this foolish filly would learn what it meant to defy him!
With a roll of her eyes, Cinder pushed herself under the shield to knock him off balance. She rushed forward and punched him in the gut, sending a scalding heat into his body. The pain went right to his brain, mixing with the already absurd levels of suffering from all his injuries. No matter what he thought he could do, sometimes pain is just too much for a body to deal with. He passed out unceremoniously, a small wisp of smoke rising from his stomach bandages.
“And down!” Cinder said, unfolding her paper shield and placing it back in her mane. That was easy—and fun!
“Woohoo, Cinder!” Sunshine shouted, rolling into view on her wheelchair. “That was great!”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Cinder laughed, trotting over to the cut mare. “I got him, don’t worry.”
“Geez, that was ridiculous,” the eyepatch mare said, rubbing her cheek. “What kinda pony just attacks others out of nowhere like that? We’re in a hospital, for Twilight’s sake!”
“Some ponies are just insane.” Cinder winked. “Anyway, it should all be fine now, right?“
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Cinder’s smile faltered slightly when she heard the voice of Rarity behind them. “Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting to visit the lower levels and find this.” She gestured amicably to the softly smoking form of the crazed stallion. “Patients like this are supposed to be restrained, though I suppose he could have broken out… terribly sorry.”
“Get bigger chains,” the eyepatch mare mumbled.
“The thought has occured to me,” Rarity admitted. “Cinder… your leg?”
Cinder took a moment to check herself over. Her ‘injured’ leg was still held between two small metal supports, but it hadn’t caused her any significant pain throughout the whole ordeal. “Seems fine, actually…”
“Oh, it’s definitely still healing,” Rarity said with a wave of her hoof. “But the fact that you’re working through it so quickly is… delightfully promising! I take it Sunshine introduced you to the mantle doses?”
Cinder nodded, winking in Sunshine’s direction with her mantle-ringed eye. “Yep! And it’s great. The only problem is now I want to do things and, crazed madpony aside, there’s not much to do here.” She tapped her hoof impatiently. “We’re all just sitting around, getting better, and I’m no artist so your little hobby just doesn’t do it for me.”
“A sad, but fair, point,” Rarity admitted, putting a hoof to her chin. “Although…”
The “although” was spoken with a completely normal, conversational tone. Cinder felt like it was about to command her death.
“...I think I have an idea.”
Of course you do. Now, how is this going to send me to the pits of Tartarus?
“I have my various ponies record ‘public service announcements’, and, well, it occurs to me that it’s a perfect excuse to make you more well-known and maybe let your friends know you’re here!”
There’s a catch. “And what would I be talking about in this announcement?”
“Well, since you have just experienced the wonderful healing a mantle can offer, I believe we can use your testimony to dispel some of the unfortunate rumors surrounding the use of the concoction. ...That is, assuming you are satisfied with the treatment?”
Oh. Selling my soul to corporate pharmaceuticals. That’s a lot less evil and unpleasant than I was expecting. “...Sure. When do you want to do it?”
“Why not now?” Rarity asked, shrugging. “I’ve got an opening in my schedule. I don’t believe you’re doing anything?”
Cinder examined the lightly-singed form of the mad stallion. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“Good!” Rarity smiled warmly. “We can make our way to the stage right now.”
“See you around!” Sunshine waved. “Can’t wait to hear your thing!”
“It’ll probably just be me reading some boring speech,” Cinder dismissed.
“Actually, you’ll be able to say whatever you want,” Rarity explained. “Naturally, I’ll cut it down to fit it into a smaller, more digestible segment, but your words will be your own.”
Cinder noted the potential for manipulation in this but decided not to comment on it.
They arrived at the stage shortly thereafter. As with everything in the Medical Pavilion that wasn’t designed specifically for medical use, the thing was as flamboyant as it could possibly be. The white theme of the Pavilion itself ran through not only the stage, but also the audience seats, a sense of holy serenity framing the velvet cushions. Hundreds of ponies could have sat here, though currently only a half dozen were mulling about.
The stage itself was carved from marble with numerous relief sculptures of mask-wearing ponies lining the base with emotions ranging from ecstasy to anguish. If there had been a theater production on the agenda, the stage floor would have been clear, but there was no such thing today so there were numerous lights, cameras, and audio-recording equipment dotted around. A model was currently posing for a camera under one of the lights, probably for some product Cinder didn’t care to learn about.
“Maxim!” Rarity called. A small, black stallion ran up to her. “We need a few simple shots of Cinder here. This is for the radio, so the visual component isn’t paramount, but we still want it to be decent for those who do see her. Be a dear and get a mantle prop while you’re at it, won’t you?”
“Yes ma’am,” Maxim said, bowing and running off in the same motion.
Rarity led Cinder to a soft chair set up on the stage that was too large for her, though this allowed her to sit comfortably with her front legs touching the seat’s base. She found it remarkably easy to smile once she was up here. “How do I look?”
Rarity held up a hoof to her eye, gauging Cinder’s appearance. “Such a shame most ponies only have the radio, you’d be visually stunning with that unique mark.”
“Which one?”
“Both of them!” Rarity grinned. “The waters around your eye frame your spirit, while that amazing shield of yours speaks to your unique situation!”
Cinder glanced at her cutie mark, smiling. The feeling quickly faded, however, the moment she looked at her other leg with the mark half wiped off and replaced with scar tissue.
Rarity put a comforting hoof on her back. Cinder had to fight not to tense up in alarm. “Don’t worry, dear, with enough work I’m sure we can restore it. I’m sure I can push mantle research into the restorative direction.”
I have no intention of being here that long.
“Regardless, for now it’s a boon in the visual department. It makes you distinct, speaking of your struggle, past, and a myriad of other subtle intricacies I won’t bore you with.”
“Basically, it’s useful for now?”
“Quite.”
“Just making sure.” Geez, I have to keep up a fake smile around this mare a lot. If I didn’t feel like she was a bomb on a hairpin trigger, oooooh would I have things to say to her. This sense of ‘art’ trumping the sense of ‘other ponies’.... Cinder allowed her mind to wander, playing out her shouting at Rarity exactly how her morality was screwed up and how she needed to think better of other ponies. The thought brought a smile to her face. That would be so satisfying.
Maxim returned with the false mantle bottle—a jar of yellow liquid with text on it that wasn’t readable but intended to give the impression of words from a distance. He immediately set to work adjusting spotlights until the light drowned out Cinder’s awareness of the rest of the space, leaving her only with Rarity and a mounted camera in her sights. All else might as well have been black.
“Weird,” Cinder commented, blinking a few times to adjust to the dramatic lighting change. “How do I look?”
“Like a million bits,” Rarity said, adjusting the camera ever so slightly. “Now, there’s no script here, we’ll just record everything. Why don’t you start by introducing yourself?”
“Well, all right…” She put on a cocky smile. “Hello, Vision! I’m Cinder Belle, adventurer extraordinaire, and I’ve recently found myself in your interesting city. You’ve got a lot to offer, good and bad, but I’m here to talk about one of the good things.” Rarity wasn’t stopping her, so she kept going. “Let me introduce you to something I hope you’re all familiar with… mantles!”
She lifted the yellow mantle prop up, letting it catch on the light. After a moment, she frowned. “Uh, hold up, I just realized I have no idea what I’m supposed to be saying about mantles. I could just tell my story, but that won’t be very good for a PSA. What sorts of misconceptions am I supposed to be combatting?”
“Nothing too fancy here,” Rarity explained. “There’s a lot of fear of addiction to mantles going around, to the point where many refuse it as medical treatment despite the clear benefits.”
“Ah. A ‘please drink responsibly’ sort of deal.”
Rarity raised her eyebrow. “What? I’m afraid the reference is lost on me.”
“Not important.” Cinder coughed, holding the prop up high once more. “Yes, that’s right, mantles, these little bottles of color that can give you new talents from out of nowhere! First off, that’s just cool, but I’m not here to tell you about how cool it is—though I will do that. No, I’m here to tell you how mantles have changed my life for the better.
“When I came to Vision, I was lost, confused, and ended up in a pretty bad neighborhood.” Like most neighborhoods around here... “I was hurt real bad—my cutie mark was half torn off and I could barely use my leg. But the ponies of the Medical Pavilion rescued me and nursed me back to health! It was amazingly quick, but I was still suffering. My mind was lost and confused. So while my body was healing, my mind was deteriorating.
“But then a good friend of mine by the name of Sunshine told me about mantles and gave me a dose of Still Waters, and I’ve felt great ever since! All that doubt and hesitation is gone, my mind restored. Actually, it might be more than restored, it’s better! Why, I remember not last week being confused about my place in the world, unsure of what I wanted to do next in my life. Should I go home, or should I keep exploring out here? But with this new mark on my face, I’ve decided! I’ll keep explor… ing…” Cinder’s smile fell and her pupils shrunk to pinpricks.
“...Darling?” Rarity asked. “Are you okay?”
“I just… made the decision,” Cinder breathed. “Without… anything. That’s not…” She nervously tapped her hoof on the edge of the chair. “That’s not right…”
“Cinder?”
Cinder was barely listening to her anymore. She was staring into the fake mantle, looking at her reflection in the glass. The mark of Still Waters was easily visible in the light, drawing attention to the way the waves completely surrounded her gaze.
Drowning.
She let the bottle fall from her hooves. It seemed to move in slow motion as it flipped through the air, sending glints into her eyes.
My fire is being controlled from without. It’s not me.
The bottle bounced off the ground unharmed, flipping into the air with a far more rapid spin.
I didn’t make that decision. It did. I didn’t struggle to reach it. It was just given to me.
The bottle hit the ground on the tip of its lid, popping off perfectly. Fake mantle spewed everywhere, running yellow in the clean stage floor.
It cheated.
It developed my character for me.
Am I even me?
The empty bottle hit the ground again, shattering into dozens of pieces.
It’s too late now. My mind has been changed. It will wear off, it will be ‘cured’, all the mantles will. They have to, I’m Cinder. It’s how it has to be.
But I can never go back.
Wordlessly, Cinder jumped off the chair. Glass shards embedded into her hooves, drawing blood. She decided she didn’t care. Rarity was saying something, but Cinder wasn’t hearing it.
The Waters are the only reason I know this is happening. The curse is its own traitor.
Cinder walked off the stage, trailing blood behind her. Lifting her head high, she pushed open one of the exit doors and made her way down a hallway, leaving a red blemish across the pristine Pavilion.
It was all so clear now. She couldn’t see it before because of this place, but now… now she saw. Mantles weren’t medicine or magic potions, they were distillations of destiny itself, a concept close to the hearts of so many Sweeties. She was among them. Of course extra cutie marks changed you. In a way, she knew this going in, but she had taken it anyway.
Why?
Because she had known. She had known she’d end up taking it, one way or another. There was a bit of curiosity there, sure, but her intuition told her it was going to happen. Why not get it out of the way right then and there?
And yet, it hadn’t told her of the dark side.
Or had it? She’d known there be a consequence of some sort. Just not that it would rewrite her very person.
I’m still Cinder. I may have cheated to get here, but I AM CINDER.
A paradox reared its ugly head. Was she making that decision, or was it Still Waters? The answer was yes. No further deliberation. None was needed.
Why waste time?
She was better this way. Cheating or not, she would have ended up here.
Do I know that?
Yes. Yes, she knew that. No matter how many ways she played it out, she knew she would have ended up here, deciding that she wanted to keep adventuring. Home didn’t really have much of an allure anymore—she was growing up and the worlds outside were calling to her. Honestly, did she ever really expect to just go home after summer was over? The story wasn’t going to end there. That was ridiculous.
So, really, why bother waiting to discover that? Still Waters did her a favor.
Drowning.
Why bother waiting at all?
She knew things. She knew lots of things. It was her gift, her talent. It was a waste of her ability to ignore the path of her story. She was the hero, and if she bothered to think for five seconds she knew exactly where she was headed.
She was absolutely guaranteed to make it out of this. Would there be a price? Yes, absolutely. There always was. That was how struggles worked. Cheating for character development or no, the price was always there. She could see it—the plot threads had already been set. She took a mantle without thinking, an item known to be addictive. Naturally, she would get at least partially addicted to it one way or another. Equally, though, she would be cured. It wouldn’t do to have her debilitated by chemical dependency for an extended period of time, the story wouldn’t allow that. She was Cinder. She had to keep adventuring.
Knowing these two things… she was safe to do what she wanted.
I haven’t even thought about that stallion I burned to death.
She could feel the magic in Still Waters pushing that thought out of her mind. It wouldn't do to dwell on it. The emotional breakdown and realization of what she’d done would come eventually. Deal with it when she needed to and not a moment before.
Right now… it was time to exploit the situation.
Cinder looked up. She was standing in front of the doors to the Pavillion’s mantle storage.
Sunshine was sitting there in her wheelchair. “Cinder…?”
“Sunshine?”
“Yes?”
“You know a lot about what kind of mantles are in here.”
“Yeah.”
“Show me.” Cinder kicked the doors in.
~~~
At this point Distant Shores was absolutely convinced Allure wasn’t anything like her mother.
It wasn’t the tears or the emotional speech that changed Distant’s mind. It wasn’t the physical difference of the artificial horn, or the fact that Allure knew more about what the multiverse had to offer. Not even Allure’s insistence to stick with her quest despite the doubt did it.
No, it was seeing Allure shout at someone on a phone that made Distant realize how different two Sweeties really could be.
“Look, it’s the tallest building in the entire city!” Allure belted. “It gives off magic like a beacon! If I was Celestia I could teleport over there right now, and you’re telling me there’s no way to take a shortcut here?” She paused as she listened to the voice on the other side. “Oh come on!”
Distant had seen her mother get angry, frustrated, and excited before. She’d even heard the exact phrase ‘oh come on!’ on more than one occasion. However, it was this familiarity that allowed Distant to hear the difference.
When The great-mighty-and-mantled Sweetie Belle had shouted, it was a complaint, almost a whine that existence was unfair and things should be different.
When Allure shouted, the sentiment was different. It was more of a demand than a complaint. The Sweetie Belle had no choice in her adventure and was taken from place to place without any anchors. Allure had authority and she was going to use it.
“Look, we have dozens of Agents that could get there in an instant! Just… this is The Sweetie Belle we’re talking about! You know, one of our primary missions as a League. And you’re telling me there’s nobody free to get here?”
Seren handed Distant a juice box. She took it without really thinking and sipped, uncertain what fruit she was tasting. “We going to be here a while?”
“Probably,” Seren said. “The Sweetie on the other side of the line is right to assume I should be able to get us to Sparkle Enchantments easily, and that we don’t need anyone else.”
“So why aren’t you?”
“I’ve done the magic scans. That place is magically defended like Homeworld. I don’t want to touch it from the wrong angle.”
Distant glanced at Allure. “...She knows this, right?”
“Yep.” Seren slurked her juice box obnoxiously.
“So talking on the phone is about as useless as us waiting for this tram.”
Seren glanced at the broken down rail they were waiting in front of. “I could have this thing running in fifteen minutes if they’d let me touch it.”
“Seren, I’m a certified maintenance pony, and they won’t let me touch it. They’re not going to let some freaky horse-monkey with a bizarre juice box anywhere near it without a lot of explosions, blood, and screams. Probably from them if I’m being honest, but massacring a bunch of stuck-up security ponies is…” She tapped her hoof on the ground. “Well, it would be cathartic.”
“And dumb.”
“Yes. Very dumb.”
“Yes I know!” Allure wailed. “Transdimensional teleports are funneled in this universe! Yes, I know, I know, that’s a mystery. We don’t need to find out who set it up, just… ugh! Can I get Jade on the phone? Please? ...Right, she’s with Jingle…”
“Where did you get that juice box, by the way?” Distant asked.
“I made it.”
“You made it?”
“Yep.”
“You can just… make food.”
Seren nodded. “You can’t?”
“Ponies are starving in alleyways, of course we can’t!”
“Oh.” Seren looked down, frowning.
Distant’s heart twisted. This is just a kid, she remembered. “Look, I…”
“That’s really weird, most high-end mages can just create food in almost every Equestria,” Seren said, putting a hand to her chin. “Apples from nothing, oranges, flowers… conjuration is a major spell. It’s a miracle that farms aren’t made obsolete in many areas, but that’s thanks in part to earth pony magic. But for food itself, the conjure matrix is relatively simple and easy to execute. I’ve been handing out juice boxes to ponies all day!” She gestured at a troop of malnourished foals sitting in a nearby cardboard box, all drinking Seren’s boxes of juice dry.
“...We totally have the potential to solve our starvation problem, don’t we?”
Seren shrugged. “Maybe? I doubt it could be transported to everyone, but the rampant hunger you see shouldn’t be a problem in any pony society.”
“And we just don’t.” Distant sighed. “Of course. Don’t know what I was expecting. Vision isn’t exactly practical.”
“Why does everypony stay?” Seren asked. “This sounds like the exact kind of scenario that’ll start some kind of revolution.”
“Honestly? It could any day.” Distant frowned. “Ponies are fed up. They just hate Celestia more.”
“Why?”
“Stupid reasons. Something to do with her killing a pony who was messing with the economy or something. I never really cared about the glorious ‘Sine Rider’ and his ‘Vision’. Whatever it was, it clearly isn’t working.” She snorted. “There you go, that’s one thing your precious Sweetie Belle did for me. Let me know exactly how fucked up this place was so I didn’t become complacent. Joy. Now I live knowing exactly how terrible everything is and unlike everypony else in maintenance I can’t just be happy through it.”
“...Oh…”
Distant wanted to rant, wanted to scream… but this kid just got so depressed at everything Distant said. It wasn’t her fault that her mother and Vision had screwed her up, she shouldn’t be ashamed. This kid just needed to learn what the world was like!
Distant groaned, realizing she had just went on a rant about how she wished she didn’t know what the world was like.
“...Distant…?”
“Just…” Distant looked around awkwardly. “Look, I’m sorry, things suck. I shouldn’t be unloading on you. You probably see enough shit as it is.”
“The… uh… ‘shit’...” she blushed as she said it, a reaction Distant struggled not to laugh at. “It’s not why I’m sad. I see ponies die and suffer all the time. Even back home.”
“Wait, what? I thought…”
“What’s sad is how broken…. your family is. It’s so sad.”
Distant had to bite her tongue to keep down a biting remark.
“You hate your mother, you’re not really close to your other mother… you’re angry. And… and that’s just sad. I… I come from a world where the magic didn’t come from friendship, it came from family. I have dozens of cousins, several grandparents, amazing aunts and uncles… and all of us fought the darkness together.” A smile came to her face. “I remember the final battle. It stood with the duplicates of itself it had made to abuse the magic, but we were stronger. Even as it seemed like we’d lose, we were still laughing together, crying together, and…” She looked at her hands, frowning. “There were many problems with my world. But that family bond…? Everyone needs that.” She wiped away some tears. “Why can’t everyone have that?”
“...Holy shit, you’re deep for a kid.”
Seren forced a smile. “Yeah. I’m probably just being silly. I’m the engineer, not the counselor. I don’t know what people need. Just what I know. My sisters would probably be better.”
“Sisters?” Distant jumped quickly on the possibility of a tangent. “I thought Sweeties only had one? Unless I’m remembering wrong.”
“I mostly have adopted sisters,” Seren explained. “One of them’s Scootaloo. But yeah, I guess I only have one real sister, and that’s Pulchri, my Rarity.”
Distant shuddered. “At least she sounds like a good pony for you. I hate the fact that, through some definitions, I’m related to that mad artist butcher who lives in the Medical Pavilion.”
“Is she really that bad?”
“There’s a joke in maintenance. ‘Death is art in the Medical Pavilion’.”
“...That’s not really funny.”
“No. No it’s not…”
“Aha!” Allure jumped up, drawing their attention to her. “I got something! After several phone calls and patches and discovering that Renee was out today, I finally got something!”
“What?” Distant asked.
“A Skiff!” Allure tapped her hooves excitedly. “Ah, Celestia, I thought Renee designed the government to avoid bureaucratic paperwork tornadoes like this…”
“Unlucky day,” Seren shrugged. “We needed to spend some time here. Watch your call go through in five seconds next week.”
“I hate the fact that you’re being reasonable right now,” Allure muttered.
“Excuse me, Distant Shores here,” Distant coughed. “What’s a Skiff?”
Allure gestured upward. A large dimensional portal appeared in the air above them, depositing a six-seater craft into the universe. It was vaguely crescent shaped and made of a pristine, white metal that sparkled in the light. The center of the crescent had a large bulge of glass where the chairs were arranged in sets of three next to large screens, fancy buttons, and several machines Distant had no idea about.
“This is a Skiff,” Allure said with a smirk. “Standard Merodi Issue single-team vessel.”
Distant wasn’t sure what to ask about first. The portal itself had been fascinating while it existed, but there was also all the complex wires and magical machinery she could sense within the Skiff itself. What was it made of? Why was it shaped like a crescent? Where could it fly?
She didn’t get to ask any of these. Somepony else spoke first.
“Well this looks like an unlicensed vehicle.” A security lieutenant stood in front of the Skiff, examining it with a critical eye. “I’m going to need to see some proper identification.”
“I literally brought it from another universe it has none of your identification,” Allure deadpanned. “Where may I procure such a thing?”
“The office of vehicles, over in district seven. However, since you brought it into Vision without proper documentation, I’m going to have to impound it first.”
“How am I supposed to get the proper documentation if the district to get that is in Vision!?”
“Not my problem.” He pulled a roll of police tape out of his uniform and started tying the Skiff up.
“...I could turn it on. Shoot this place to bits,” Allure said. “That tape won’t stop it.”
“You really wanna try that?”
Distant waited for Allure to break down and burn this infuriating cop to the ground. It would be stupid, yes, but to be frank, Distant could see herself tearing this guy’s throat out after so much shouting.
For a moment, Allure looked ready to blow everything to smithereens. However, instead of unleashing the righteous fury in a burst of violence, she sighed. Pulling her communicator out, she called the League again. “Recall the Skiff.”
With a flash of light, the Skiff was gone.
“Unauthorized use of magic,” the lieutenant said. “I’m going to have to take you in.”
“...Okay,” Allure said, offering her hooves. “Fine. Just… just do whatever. We’re clearly not supposed to get to where we need to go quickly. Maybe we’ll be carried off to the prison, get noticed after a few hours, and then get to the top of this city. Or… or…” She sighed. “Who am I kidding. We’ve waited decades to find her. Of course we’re going to be made to wait again. And when we get there, we really aren’t gonna like what we see. That’s how things go down here.”
The guard, thoroughly uninterested, put her in the cuffs.
Distant was glad the stallion didn’t see the need to imprison her or Seren, though she admittedly wasn't paying much attention to him at the moment. She was watching Allure carefully.
“...Vision’s getting to you,” she said, walking along with Allure and the guard.
“Hm?”
“It breaks down everypony. Everypony. But you… it’s breaking you down in a different way. You’re not losing your fire or your spark…”
“I’m losing my hope,” Allure said matter-of-factly. “I’m keeping a promise. That doesn’t mean it’s going to be happy times at the end of the road.”
~~~
Fluttershy had access to Sparkle Enchantments. Private transport for the Elements was always active, regardless of the state of the rest of the rails. Pinkie often handled repairs on the systems herself, fixated on making sure her best of friends had the best possible aspects of the city at their disposal.
So Suzie, Celia, and Fluttershy were on a private tram while the rest of the system was suffering from widespread malfunctions.
“What is going on with the rest of the system?” Celia asked, looking out the window at several empty, dead tram tubes running through the water.
“Pinkie said something about not having enough time to update all the systems last time we had lunch,” Fluttershy explained. “She spends most of her time making sure ponies are happy. Other things get neglected.”
“Why doesn’t she just hypnotize them?” Suzie asked. “Or have you do it?”
Fluttershy frowned. “It’s not what she wants.”
“Of course,” Suzie turned away, glaring at their approaching destination—the massive, purple glow of the Sparkle Enchantments building that towered above all the other towers of Vision. Most of the city was below them at this point, looking like scars of light across the dark ocean floor. Only Twilight’s cutie mark stood above it all, giving a strange feeling of hope.
A false hope, Suzie thought. I am going to tell this Twilight exactly what I think of her little city...
“How do you think she’ll respond?” Celia asked.
Fluttershy had to think about this for a moment. “Twilight… believes in the freedom of ponies to choose. She’s of the mind that they’ve all chosen the way Vision has become, so that’s the way it’s going to be. I don’t know the last time she actually did anything major in Vision since she faked her death. She just… watches ponykind to see where they choose to go.”
“Well they’ve chosen badly,” Suzie muttered. “Time for a change.”
“She won’t like it if we suggest she has no choice,” Fluttershy said.
Celia nodded. “I recommend opening with an offer of aid. Pointing out that her ponies are suffering and that they most certainly would accept food and the like if it was offered to them.”
“We might want to mention that you’re offering this out of your choice as well. You’re run by a council, not a princess, right?”
“Technically speaking Eve’s a princess, but she’s also a Twilight, and she shares power equally with the other Overheads. In theory. In practice Ava, the Overhead of Labor has the most power, due to her inter-Division powers…”
Listen to them talking politics like nothing’s wrong, Suzie thought to herself. Like this is just some routine mission where we go to the leader of the screwed-up-civilization of the week and offer them what we have. Like this Fluttershy isn’t a controlling psychotic maniac. Like Celia hasn’t forced a bunch of ponies to conform to hypnosis.
Like this city isn’t evil. Like this city doesn’t deserve to burn.
Celia and Fluttershy talked strategy. Suzie didn’t listen. She was done listening.
Let them make their plans. This city won’t accept healing. It never will. And when it comes crashing down around them… I’m going to give Twilight a piece of my mind.
Celia isn’t going to be able to stop me.
“Suzie, dear…”
Suzie operated on the assumption that Celia had deduced what she was thinking. “You’ll get your chance. Go ahead with your plan. Go, befriend the evil empire.”
“It is a method of alliance we have performed numerous times, Suzie.”
“How far do we go?” Suzie asked. “How much are we willing to put up with?”
“More than a single city’s hellscape,” Celia retorted. “The Imperium of Man was, and in many ways still is, worse. We’re still working with them. We can work with this, one way or another.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” Suzie muttered. “Maybe you’ll convince yourself mind control is okay. Go ahead, become the Conqueror by Friendship.”
“It is preferable to being the Conqueror by Force.”
Suzie didn’t dignify this with a response.
Their private transport affixed to the outside of the massive purple starburst, sliding into the highest level of the tallest tower. Far above the rest of Vision the lights of the city were distant, and only a purple star shone against the oppressive inky blackness that was the ocean. There were guards in full armor and a mare sitting at a desk, waiting for them.
“Ah, Fluttershy, good to see you again!” the mare said. She had been the voice on Fluttershy’s radio earlier. “...I take it this meeting is of a more serious matter, though.”
Fluttershy nodded. “She’s waiting for us?”
“Yes. Go on in.” She gestured to the throne room doors. They looked a lot like the doors of a standard Canterlot’s throne room.
The interior was shocking.
It was bare. Empty. Suzie could almost describe it as unfinished if the emptiness wasn’t so clearly intentional. It looked almost exactly like Celestia’s throne room in most Canterlots, except there were no tapestries, windows, or decorations of any sort. It was all bland, white, harsh.
There was no throne at the end of the hall. There was only a window, and a mare sitting in front of it, looking not at the city below but the darkness above. She looked a lot like Cadence, though the angles in her body were much sharper, more powerful in a way.
She looked so lonely up here in this empty room.
Suzie hated that thought. This was the mare responsible for everything. There couldn’t be sympathy.
“Twilight?” Fluttershy said, voice slightly pensive.
“Fluttershy,” Twilight responded with a cold, nearly empty voice.
“This is Celia, Chalcedony and Colonel Suzie Mash. They’re from another universe.”
Twilight turned around, slowly, moving each of her limbs like it was a machine. Her eyes were full of power but devoid of life while her face was completely level. There was no smile for Fluttershy.
“Sweetie Belles have a habit of dimensional hopping,” Twilight observed.
“We do,” Celia admitted, pulling her mane back slightly. “We represent the League of Sweetie Belles, an organization within the multiversal nation Merodi Universalis.” She bowed slightly to Twilight. “It is an honor, your highness.”
Twilight glanced over Celia, taking in the bow. “Yes,” she said softly. “I know.”
“In our explorations, we have come across a great deal of pain in your city. Fluttershy assures me you are aware of this.”
Fluttershy nodded. “Those who are starving, suffering, or just… lost in their own violence.”
Celia continued. “It is tradition that, after an exploration team finds a need within another world, they offer the resources of Merodi Universalis’ Aid Division to that world. Before we begin any talk of relations, trade, or even diplomacy, I wish to express that we’re willing to help.”
“And how would you help?” Twilight asked.
“Food. Medical supplies. Healers,” Celia began. “More, if you’ll accept it. We have hundreds of worlds within us, we can staff repair efforts, even build more modern structures would you desire it.”
“And how do you…” Twilight selected her words carefully, “profit from this help?”
“We don’t. It’s called the Aid Division for a reason, it’s aid. We expect nothing from you in return.”
“You do not expect companionship in return? Friendship?”
Celia pursed her lips, as if pondering her response—though Suzie knew this was just an act. “I suppose there is, but it’s nothing official so you can always ignore it, though I don’t see why you would. There’s no payment of money, resources, or even people. Just time and a willingness to talk.”
“How would this ‘Aid’ be carried out?”
“For the medical supplies and food, our people would just come through and hand it out, perhaps go searching into the deeper depths of society to find those who really need it. We’d need to coordinate with your engineer teams and civil authority to work in the other areas such as repair and construction.”
“They wouldn’t be forced to do anything,” Fluttershy added. “The Merodi could set up little shops and nexuses to help ponies. Mini-Sanctuaries could be created. They have the resources, the time, and the desire to help our ponies.”
“We really do want to do this,” Celia assured. “It’s part of our primary mission. Help where we can.”
Twilight didn’t respond for a few seconds, allowing an uncomfortable silence to fall over the empty room. Just when Suzie was about to say something out of confusion, Twilight spoke. “I see no reason to object to acts of charity, even if they may come from other worlds. That said, your missionaries—” what an odd choice of word. “—cannot be armed or bring powerful magic from other worlds.”
Celia allowed herself to look guilty. “One of our members is currently an exceptionally high ranking mage, wandering Vision. We can remove her if you want.”
“I am already aware of the person of which you speak. This policy would apply to any future visitors. One mage will not upset the city, but hundreds would. Furthermore, all missionaries—” that word made Suzie furious. “—who enter our city will be subject to our laws.”
“We won’t cause any trouble,” Celia confirmed.
“That is not what I said,” Twilight said, her voice carrying an emotion with it for the first time: irritation. “If anyone wants to move to Vision, they will be bound by its laws. If they break those laws they will be subjected to detention and the otherwise normal process of legal justice. They will respect our citizens, and our city government, and the security forces which uphold our society.”
A silence fell across the room once again.
“Do you find this act unreasonable?”
Suzie glared at her. Of course that’s unreasonable, have you seen the security in this place? Corrupt, unhelpful, and execution happy!
“Not at all,” Celia answered. “We are well used to dealing with other forms of legal justi-”
“Really?!” Suzie blurted. “You’re just going to agree to that?”
Celia fixed Suzie with a shut up now or you’ll ruin everything look. “Suzie, this is standard procedure.”
Standard procedure is to use our resources and power to overcome the difficult system. If they don’t have weapons or magic, and this city does, they’ll die.
Twilight was looking at Suzie. “What is your objection?”
Celia spoke into Suzie’s mind directly. Talk about your concern for our people’s safety and—ah, she can hear me, nevermind.
Twilight let out a faint sigh. “Must you coach her?”
“Vision has not been kind, and she takes a more… personal objection to the city,” Celia said.
Big surprise, Suzie seethed. Go on an adventure to get to know each other better, she said…
“Suzie,” Twilight said, addressing her once more. “What do you think of my city?”
Suzie didn’t even wait for Celia to give her a cue or anything. “I think it’s a terrible place. It needs help. Which we can offer.”
“If you’ll let them,” Fluttershy added, forcing a smile. “Just let their workers through. They’ll listen to your restrictions. I’m sure they’ll understand the danger.”
“We put our lives on the line every day just to explore,” Celia added. “This is a much higher purpose.”
“Is it?” Twilight asked. “Why?” Nopony answered, and the silence grew long.
Finally, Celia frowned. “Do you take issue?”
“Not at all. Ponies are free to do what they wish.” She glanced at Fluttershy, pausing to let it sink in. “If they wish to brave Vision, they can do so.”
“Very well,” Celia said. “It seems we have an agreement. We will begin movement of Aid personnel to Vision as soon as possible, with the understanding that while they’re here they act as your citizens. We can bring in no outside weapons or powerful magic.”
Twilight nodded. “And must respect the law. Your missionaries receive no special treatment.”
“Will this apply to arrival and departure?”
“Yes. Your missionaries will be subject to the same entrance procedures you were.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” Suzie asked.
“Missionaries?”
“Yes. They’re workers. Some of them will no doubt be religious, but not all of them.”
“You are here to promote your ideology. That’s what a missionary is.”
Suzie wanted to push further, but Celia was giving her a look. Fluttershy too, though hers was significantly less angry and more nervous.
She thinks I’m going to explode, Suzie realised. Nope. Not going to happen. I’m going to let them burn this thing to the ground. I told them it would go wrong, and it’s going to go wrong. Look at this thing they’re signing!
They were about to agree to absolute obedience to Vision’s ridiculous laws and brutal practices. They were to be limited with no technology or magic from beyond. They were going to walk into this city, set up shop, and die.
Get captured like Cinder.
Suzie’s expression fell away as she realized what was happening. In front of her wasn’t a plan that would ‘fix’ Vision, it was a document that would kill hundreds of people. Her people. Sweeties, ponies, agents… they would come here, and the brutal mantle-fueled corrupt-cop city of Vision would take them and rip out their souls.
She couldn’t let this happen just because of some petty desire to see Celia screw up.
“No,” Suzie said, shoving Celia away.
“Suzie, I swear to th—”
“You have not been fully reinstated as a Relations Representative since your combination incident, you cannot make agreements on our behalf.”
“You know full well that our laws allow for this in this situation.”
“I can use this as a justification to declare you unfit.” She snapped. “I am not consigning hundreds of our people to die for this broken city.”
“Suzie, that is not your decision. If I am not ‘authorized’ to agree to this, then we need to send it up higher to Relations, perhaps Eve herself. Have her come down here, perhaps hash out an agreement with less restrictions? I’m sure she’d be willing to discuss such a thing.”
Twilight watched them both silently, still as a statue.
“We don’t have to do it this way,” Suzie said, clenching her fist. “This doesn’t have to be a slow burn. They far exceed the Oversight Line.”
“And so did the Gems and so did the Imperium. We are much better off having taken the diplomatic route.”
Fluttershy nodded. “Please, Suzie, we need to get help to these ponies. Not… what you’re offering.”
“It won’t work!” Suzie shouted, standing up tall. “We’ll send people here, and they’ll die in this hellhole! It won’t make it better, it’ll just add to the body count! You’ve seen what this place does to—”
“You? Turning you into an angry mongrel who wants to kill everything?” Celia pointed out the window at Vision itself. “I bet you want to see this place burned to the ground! That won’t help either—”
“This is quite unbecoming,” Twilight pointed out.
Suzie stared at the princess for a few moments before laughing. “That’s rich, coming from the pony in charge of the constant battle for life down there.”
“You mistake me, Suzie. I have nothing to do at all with day-to-day life of Vision. Ponies make their own choices. As you are now making the choice to shout and stamp your foot in my throne room.”
“I’m making a choice all right.” Suzie leaned in, glaring at her. “We don’t need your approval. We can come in here and give Aid by force. We’ve done it before, and we can do it again. This talk is just a courtesy.”
“Oh, Suzie…” Celia groaned—a noise she quickly interrupted with a shocked intake of air. “You just gave her what she wanted.”
Twilight offered the softest of smiles, then turned away from the others and went back to staring out the window. Sung hung in the air as they waited for her to answer. Two seconds. Five. Ten. Twenty.
Finally, Celia gave in. “...Do you think this is funny?” Getting no answer, she continued. “There is a whole multiverse out there of Sweeties and more who want to put a stop to this suffering. As… unprofessional as that just was, Suzie is being honest—though clearly you knew this since before we walked through those doors, you just wanted to force it out of us.”
“Tell me,” Twilight said, “when you arrived in my city, what was the first thing you saw?”
Celia hesitated for a moment. “A customs office.”
“Yes. A duty post. One that sits on the border between two worlds, controlling what may pass between them.” She turned back to the Sweeties, her expression as level as before. “It was never implied you were free to come or go as you pleased. In fact, you still carry paperwork, stating that there is a date by which point you must depart.”
“You think a mare with a stamp is going to stop us?” Suzie growled.
“My city is on the border of many things, Suzie. Sea and sky, light and dark, past and future. Countless worlds surrounded. Infinite mirrors and infinite lighthouses. But this world, where you now stand, is mine.”
After an uncomfortable silence, Twilight continued. “You haven’t broken any laws, at least not any big laws, so I see no reason to cause you any trouble. You can come and go as your Visas permit, and if you truly wish to hand out aid and medical supplies, why would I stop you?”
“Yes, yes,” Celia said, nodding. “We will do that, c—”
Twilight wasn’t looking at her anymore—just Suzie. “But this is not a place for armies. War is an ugly thing; I detest it. So your army must stay behind.”
“Like you could stop them from coming,” Suzie said, letting out a bitter laugh. “I could call them in right now. Put a quarantine over this entire city. Freeze it solid. Deal with one pony at a time. You’re just a city. We have thousands of worlds at our disposal.”
“But we still don’t want to do that!” Celia called. “We always want the diplomatic solu—”
“Sometimes the diplomatic solution makes you think brainwashing ponies is a good thing,” Suzie spat, pulling out her communicator. “This is Colonel Suzie Mash, I’m gonna need a show of power appropriate for a city...”
Twilight nodded her head. “So be it.” She lit her horn, casting a spell. Three dark blue rings sprung from her horn, and then slowly faded into the air.
Swip’s voice came Celia and Suzie’s communicators. “EMERGENCY EXTRACTION INITIATED.” For a moment, a portal opened behind them, showing Swip’s interior. “TELEPOR—”
The portal collapsed. The communicators returned nothing but static.
Suzie stared at Twilight. “What did you do!?”
“Two-way travel is now forbidden,” Twilight deadpanned. “You may leave at any time. But you may not take anything with you or bring anything outside, in. You will not be conquering this city.”
“You think we can’t break down a simple jamming spell?” Suzie laughed. “Swip’s gonna bring the fleet down on this place and rip your dimensional lock right out of your horn in a few minutes.”
“No doubt. But that’s a few minutes for them. How long will it be on this end?”
Suzie’s confidence dissipated. “You… you can’t have. Altering the time constant is…”
“Difficult,” Twilight admitted.
“But very possible if she knew some of the things we put into The Sweetie Belle’s notebook…” Celia said, no longer making any attempt to hide her rage at Twilight.
“Your true colors,” Twilight said, glancing at Celia. “Why are you angry at me?”
“Don’t you give me any of this ‘misleading question’ bullshit,” Celia said. “I’ve played the game a while, probably longer than you. You’re hiding behind a facade just as much as I was. The only difference is that when I no longer have a reason to hide, I am myself. You still hide behind that cold, question-spewing face of yours.”
“I have done nothing.”
“I think we both know you specifically led the conversation and used words to trigger Suzie’s response.”
“You were lying. I merely wished you to speak the truth without being antagonistic.”
“Then drop the idea of this meeting. You have the power to fix Vision. It’s clearly messed up. Your little ‘experiment’ to let ponies be free hasn’t worked.”
Twilight shrugged. “Perhaps not. But I am not the one who created mantles. I am not the one who turns ponies into works of art. I am not the officers who kill because their power allows it. I am not the one who drove The Sweetie Belle’s family apart.”
Celia nodded slowly. “You’re quite delusional. Are you saying that passing a starving kid by on the street and doing nothing is a blameless act?”
“It does them no harm. And what obligation do I have to them, that I must help whenever they ask?”
“You are their leader! You brought them here, that makes them your responsibility.”
“Perhaps. But you act as though they are your responsibility.”
“Twilight, please,” Fluttershy spoke up, reminding everyone that she was there. “We don’t have to do this. We…”
Twilight stared right at her. “Fluttershy, you should know that your magic doesn’t work on me.”
“Twilight, I—”
“You are free to side with them as you wish,” Twilight turned away from her, what looked like the slightest hint of pain on her features. “And they are free to stay as long as they are able. But Vision will not have a war, nor will Vision let itself be conquered.” She looked Suzie in the eyes. “Unless you believe you can still change it from within.”
Suzie lost it. She grabbed Twilight by the neck and lifted her into the air, summoning U-Catastrophe. The intricate, white branches of a massive tree erupted from her feet, invisible to Celia and Fluttershy.
But Twilight could see it. She saw something she hadn’t expected. The surprise was evident on her face as the branches of the tree closed in around her, surrounding her and Suzie in a nest of wooden spirit.
“You could destroy Vision with this…” Twilight observed, eyes wide.
“You aren’t anywhere near surprised enough,” Suzie growled. “I haven’t had a good reason to use this in a long, long time. You should be honored. This place is far enough in the pits of hell for it to be worthwhile.”
“Don’t!” Celia called. “Suzie, Twilight is not a standard leader, her vision isn’t of glory for her city!”
“Then tell me what it is!” Suzie shouted, wanting nothing more than to lob Twilight’s arrogant head off.
“She’s… uh…” Celia furrowed her brow. “She’s difficult to read, but she doesn't care about the ponies down there. Not really. I’m fairly certain she doesn’t care about this idea of choice either, it’s just there to further some other philosophical goal of hers. She…”
“She wants to prove that ponies are... evil,” Fluttershy said, tears in her eyes.
I have no idea what U-Catastrophe would do in response to that vision.
With a scream, Suzie threw Twilight to the floor and dissipated U-Catastrophe.
Twilight rubbed her throat and stood up, seemingly unperturbed by the events. “I have ordered the guards not to put out an order for your arrest, nor to interfere with this meeting. But they will have heard that and will use their power to label you as enemies. You are no longer safe in Vision.”
Suzie pulled her fingers into a fist. “I don’t care.”
“You should leave. There really is nothing for you here. The Sweetie Belle had to learn that twice.”
“I’m not leaving this place to rot!” Suzie lifted her head. “We’re not leaving until what we’ve come to do is done.”
“If you wish to fight a city on your own, you are welcome to try.” Twilight ruffled her wings. “Cinder is in the Medical Pavilion being treated by Rarity.”
Suzie drew her gun, intending to disable the alicorn. Twilight teleported away before Suzie could get a shot off.
“...Dammit,” Celia said. “Dammit, dammit dammit…”
“You tried,” Fluttershy said, forcing a smile. “It’s okay. You can go get Cinder a—”
“No, Suzie’s right,” Celia said. “We don’t just get to leave and let this place rot.” She glared at Suzie. “For all your anger, you did get that right. We don’t leave. Not if we have a choice.”
“...You really are going to try to take the city on?”
Celia and Suzie glanced at each other. They were angry—furious—with each other. But they knew what had to be done. “Yes,” they said in unison. “What else can we do?”
Celia held out a hoof to Fluttershy. “Coming?”
“...Okay.”