Twilight swallowed at that. "Only coils themselves, or their consequences as well?" she asked, suddenly shifting her weight from one leg to the other. It was partly out of nervousness, partly to deal with standing still for so long.
"That's inherently dependant on how much those consequences are tied to the particular coil's existence in the first place," the Charioteer replied, "though you should be able to figure out that much by yourself. Cut out walls and burnt trees will remain, circuits and other such things will not."
"So Starshine will..." Twilight didn't finish the sentence, though she didn't need to.
"Die? For a given definition of death, though you need to make up your mind on whether or not she's alive in the first place," replied the stallion. "That is all, of course, assuming Sunburst lives long enough to see that happen. Not that it will matter particularly if things simply run their course."
Twilight frowned, and was silent as she thought things through.
"Oh, don't make that face, and don't act like this is any kind of moral dilemma worth your time. The choice is evident, and the matter of guilt isn't something you can't easily overcome."
"That does not mean I enjoy bringing suffering to others. It's not the kind of choice I enjoy making," Twilight said.
"And yet it is the kind of choice you are called to make, as ruler of this country. And one you are willing to, as someone fit to take on that role," said the Charioteer.
"Only ever if there was no other option." Twilight stared the other down.
"And you've been exceptionally good at finding those options, Twilight," the Charioteer acknowledged. "But if it ever came to it, and nothing else could be done, there's not a creature you wouldn't kill. It's pure logic, and it's not something you of all ponies can argue against."
There was a moment of almost silence, filled with the slow sound of Twilight's deep breathing. "You don't know me," she finally hissed, in a deep tone.
"I know you enough to know that the possibility wouldn't scare you as much if you didn't know it could be true. There's more than one reason you've refused to put yourself in this kind of situation." The Charioteer held her stare, his expression eerily calm.
"You're not the first one who doesn't understand me," said Twilight. "I'd assumed you would know enough not to make that kind of mistake, but it seems I was wrong."
"I could force you into it, if I wanted to."
Twilight was silent again, this time in surprise rather than contemplation, as pieces of her expression shattered and crumbled away.
"I could still make it all stop, if I really tried to," the other continued. "I could offer you a deal, Twilight. Just one life of my choosing for this all to end."
"You'd be lying," Twilight hastily replied.
"You could check for that. Make me swear and promise by any oath and spell you know of, and if you were certain it was the truth, you would do it." The Charioteer stared at Twilight, silently, for a moment longer. "I won't, though, so don't worry about it too much yet."