//------------------------------// // Memory // Story: SAPR // by Scipio Smith //------------------------------// Memory “Which way do we go?” Lyra asked as the four of them ran up the stone staircase out of the dungeon. “The way they took Red?” Torchwick suggested. “We don’t know which way that is,” Cardin said. “We don’t really know our way around here.” “We don’t need to know,” Cinder declared. “We have ears, do we not?” She gestured with one imperious hand in the direction from which the greatest swell of noise was coming. “The battle is that way, and like as not, so are our enemies.” She began to stride purposefully in that direction. “Hang on!” Cardin said loudly. “For one thing, we could do with getting our weapons back.” “A fine thing, if we knew where they were,” Cinder replied, glancing at him over her shoulder.  “But we do know one thing,” Cardin went on. “We know that they brought us in through the front door and led us to the dungeon.” “Speak for yourself; I came there by other means.” “I know,” Cardin said. “But the fact is that the way out is about the only way that I can remember, and more to the point, it's where we need to go.” Cinder rounded on him, stalking back towards him until she was up in his face. “Why?” she demanded. “We know where our enemy is, and they are not waiting for us at the front door.” “It’s the only door,” Cardin replied. “And it’s where their reinforcements will be coming in.” “Assuming they have sent for reinforcements.” “Which they probably will, unless they’re stupid or arrogant.” “Or they have no need of them.” “In which case, what difference can we make?” “I think you’ll find that I can make a great deal of difference,” Cinder declared. “Which is why you can make sure that no one gets in, and no one gets out,” Cardin replied. “You might be the only one who can.” Cinder’s chest rose and fell. She could not linger at the door like some kind of glorified bellhop! If the Sun Queen died in the fighting, then she would never regain her memories; they would be like all that had been taken from her by Salem, gone beyond recall, or worse for her not even being left the vague connective tissue that yet enabled her to construct a story of her life.  She felt – or at least she feared – as though if she did not face her enemy directly, then she would lose the chance to take back what had been stolen from her.  “I must find the Queen,” she growled. “To what end?” Cardin demanded. “If we lose this battle, then we might as well have stayed in our cells, and our best chance of not losing is to cut off her support; I don’t know who she’s fighting or what chance they have, but they probably have a better chance if the Sun Queen is limited to the troops she has right now.” That made a distressing amount of sense, but it was Torchwick’s turn to speak up now. “What about Red?” he asked. “Are we just going to ditch her?” Cardin bit his lip. He hesitated for less than a moment. “You and Lyra head towards the sound of the fighting; stay out of trouble until you find Ruby – if you can. Then get her back to join the rest of us, and find out what’s going on, too, if you can.” “Sneak around, stay out of trouble? Finally, my kind of job,” Torchwick said. He touched the brim of his reclaimed bowler hat and bowed his head to Cinder. “Cinder.” “Roman,” Cinder murmured. “Be careful.” Roman winked at her. “Always, and right back at’cha. Okay, Little Voice, let’s go check on the ruckus, shall we?” They took off, Torchwick leading and Lyra following, heading in the direction of the sounds of battle echoing through the tower towards them.  “Come with me,” Cardin ordered her. “We’re going to put a stopper in this tower.” He didn’t wait for her acknowledgement, but began to run – with less concern for stealth than the other two had shown – in the direction of the only way into or out of the tower, leaving Cinder with little choice but to follow after him.  “Was it very difficult for you to remember that you’re supposed to be in charge?” Cinder asked playfully as they ran. “Shut up,” Cardin snapped.  Their footsteps echoed on the stone, Cardin’s heavy tread alternating with Cinder’s lighter, barely audible step, as they dashed down the corridors, Cinder only prevented from overtaking Cardin – she was faster than he was, by some distance – by the fact that he knew where he was going and she, not so much. She had come into the dungeons by a different route, as she said, and she had been a little bit out of it besides.  It was the right thing to do. It was the right place to go. It was the tactically savvy move. But at the same time, she didn’t like it. She did not like it one bit.  And if this battle ended with no chance of her taking back what was stolen, then she was going to make sure that Cardin knew how upset she was.  Perhaps she should have left him and done what she wanted; not in the sense of it being the right thing to do, but… but in the sense of it being the Cinder thing to do. Since when did Cinder Fall put the big picture first? Since when did Cinder Fall behave selflessly? Cinder Fall is a creation; she can be whoever I want her to be. But since when did I want her to be this? I need to remember how I became this way, or how can I hope to understand myself? But in the meantime, she would fight. She would fight, and she would be Cinder Fall, if not in all her glory – she had too little magic in her for that – then at least in ferocity.  And so, she followed Cardin’s lead as they ran to the door.  The doorway, when they reached it, still bore the marks of damage from Cinder’s assault upon it: the lock and a good chunk of the door destroyed, a hole blown in the wall as well from the explosion of her arrows. They had covered the hole up with some hastily cobbled together bits of wood and metal and piled up a stout chest, some more wood, a few rocks, some odds and ends beside the ruined door so that they could, at need, barricade it against attack.  Very considerate of them, I must say. At present, the barricade – or the materials to make it – were pushed to one side, and the doorway was wide open, probably to receive the reinforcements Cardin had predicted. If they were coming, then there was not a large welcoming committed here to meet them: two Rangers, one with a crossbow and the other with a bolt-action rifle from the Great War. Neither of them were aware of Cinder coming as she sped past Cardin, her feet beating a rapid tattoo upon the ground as she charged towards her enemies. They became aware of her much, much too late, raising rifle and crossbow as one. The Ranger with the crossbow, his hair wild and his beard unkempt, loosed his quarrel at her, but Cinder nimbly dodged aside, skidding along the ground before she leapt upon him.  The Ranger with the rifle fired at her and missed. Cinder collided with her opponent with the crossbow, who was stupidly trying to reload it as Cinder fell on him like a lioness upon a zebra. She grabbed him by the neck, pulling him backwards, and spinning him around, using his body like a shield to absorb the two more bullets that the Ranger with a rifle hastily fired at her, before her hand found the knife at the crossbowman’s belt, and she threw it into the rifleman’s throat. He collapsed, gurgling a little as blood began to stain the floor.  Cinder let go of the other Ranger; he was dead too, and fell with a slump down beside the first.  “I’m beginning to get a very low opinion of these people,” she observed. Cardin grunted in acknowledgement. “Keep watch,” he said as he closed the door and began to barricade it up, heaving trunk and wood and stones into position before the door so that it would take a strong man indeed to force it open.  Cinder said nothing as she scooped up the rifle from off the floor next to the dead man. It was a Valish weapon, with a short magazine holding only five rounds. He’d fired three of them before he died. Cinder knelt down beside his body, resting the butt of the rifle on the floor and holding it with one hand as, with the other, she began to root around for another magazine on the dead man’s body.  The sound of footsteps approaching forced Cinder to abandon her search and settle for grabbing the sword-pattern bayonet from off the dead man’s belt. It wasn’t the same as having more shots, but it was nearly a foot and a half of cold steel, and that was not nothing.  And besides, she told herself, circumstances were as unlikely to give her the chance to reload as she had given the departed crossbowman.  The footsteps drew closer. Cinder fixed her bayonet and raised her rifle to her shoulder. She had never particularly liked guns – there was something rather brutal about them; she preferred the more elegant weapons of a more civilised age – but any weapon was better than nothing in a pinch. Especially when someone was coming towards you, and you had no reason to expect them to be friendly. It turned out to be one of the Sun Queen’s creatures, her lieutenant Laurel, the one who did her bidding and ran all her errands, both escorting honoured guests to their rooms and then coming to arrest them once they became detested enemies.  She stopped, regarding Cinder with those pale and watery eyes of hers. “How?” she demanded. Cinder smirked. “I think that’s my line, don’t you?” With both hands, Laurel began to reach towards the sleeves of her black blouse. “We should have killed you when we had the chance.” “Yes,” Cinder agreed, “you should.” And then she fired, because really, what else was there to say? The stolen rifle cracked. Laurel leapt backwards, her dress billowing around her as she performed a nearly perfect backflip, reaching into her sleeves as she did so to produce a pair of heavy-looking pens.  They transformed in her grip, one into a knife and the other into a slender-bladed sword.  Cinder fired again, and Laurel deflected it with her blade. They both charged, rushing to meet one another in the centre of the chamber. Cinder let Laurel make the first move, slashing downwards with her sabre; Cinder parried the blow on the wooden stock of her rifle, pushing the sword aside before thrusting the bayonet for Laurel’s gut. Laurel used her knife to parry the stroke away, counterattack with one, two, three furious strokes, only one of which Cinder managed to parry before the sabre blade sneaked through to nick her aura.  Laurel retreated a couple of paces, a disappointed look upon her face.  Cinder scowled. She took a moment to gather herself, then attacked again, thrusting with the bayonet and then, when that was parried, reversing the rifle to use the butt as a club. Laurel was too quick for her; her weapons were too nimble; Cinder could beat her guard down, but she would dance away, and as she danced, she struck out with her slender sabre or her knife, taking strips off Cinder’s aura as though it was a piece of meat from which she was slicing delicate strips for the royal banquet table.  And that look of disappointment had turned into a full blown smirk.  Cinder wanted to slice it off her face.  She glanced down at the rifle in her hands; it was too heavy, too cumbersome, and she was too unfamiliar with it to use it against someone who was armed with their own weapon, fashioned for their hand and in the use of which they were exquisitely well-trained.  Sadly, she did not have sword or bow handy.  But she did have a knife. Two knives, in fact. Slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on Laurel, Cinder removed the sword bayonet from the end of the rifle and threw the gun itself aside. She still kept her eyes fixed on Laurel as she pulled the knife out of the dead rifleman’s throat.  They were no Midnight, these two, but they were blades, and they fitted in her hand. Cinder’s scowl turned into a smirk to match that which Laurel was wearing… except that the sight of it caused Laurel’s look to falter a little. Good. Cinder half-crouched, almost doubling over before she kicked off, covering the distance between them instantly, getting inside Laurel’s guard with a single deft stroke of her knife before she slashed at Laurel’s face with her bayonet. Laurel jerked her head backwards, but not before Cinder had sliced off some of her aura the way that Laurel had cut off hers.  And now, a lesson from Rainbow Dash, Cinder thought, as she slammed her head forwards to butt Laurel directly in the face, a blow that did far more damage to Laurel’s aura than it did to Cinder, before catching her, still reeling, in the side with a swiping kick that sent her flying into the wall.  Laurel came back at her, not running but gliding along the floor as though it were made of ice and she were wearing skates.  Her semblance, clearly, Cinder thought, as Laurel darted past Cinder, a flickering stroke lashing out at her which Cinder hastily parried aside.  Out of the corner of her eye, Cinder noticed Cardin reaching for the discarded crossbow.  “Don’t,” she snapped. “This one’s mine.” It was at this moment, as she stood upon the raised platform with all hell breaking loose around her, that Bon Bon wished that her weapon were a little more compact.  Ordinarily, she liked the range that Whirlwind gave her; she was free to keep her enemies a good distance away from her, or try to, but it had its weaknesses, and one of those was that if the enemy started off close by you – standing right beside you, say – then it wasn’t as much use as it could be.  Of course, it could be used as a mace in a pinch; the chain did retract all the way in. It still wasn’t the best weapon for sparring, but if she could manage to get Sami on the floor, then it ought to do to stove her head in.  Bon Bon had no intention of serving Salem. Not again. She hadn’t known what she was getting into the first time, and now that she knew… the question that dominated her mind every single day was how in Remnant Lyra had managed to forgive her. Okay, she hadn’t actually done very much, but she had contributed to it! She had been a part of some pretty awful things, and that was just the stuff that Lyra knew about, like pretending to be racist to stir up trouble.  Being ineffective was not a defence, as nice as it might have been for Bon Bon if it were. It just meant that you had ill intentions that you were too rubbish to actually bring to fruition. And while Bon Bon might protest that her intentions had never actually been that bad – she hadn’t really known what Cinder was planning half the time, and she doubted that Cinder herself had known what she was planning half the time – she’d known that her mistress was not a benevolent one.  And yet she’d gone along with it. Along with Cinder, along with Amber, along with Tempest, along with everyone except for the actual good guys, like Blake, whom she had treated like dirt and to whom she had affected to appear superior.  And Lyra had forgiven her for all of that.  She would probably even forgive her for joining Tyrian, even if Bon Bon had been sincere about it. Which Bon Bon was not. She had walked out of that cell because she could do more outside of it than she could in and because she had so little pride left that some more deceit wouldn’t really make much difference. She had walked out of the cell to wait for a moment like this one, with Tyrian down in the pit engaged in battle, the Sun Queen and her guards distracted by the girl who had just collapsed, and Sami beside her and a little ahead of her. If she could get the wiry caribou faunus on the ground, then she could beat on her until her aura broke and then… and then she would cross that bridge later.  She had all her armour on once more, and Whirlwind hanging from her belt. With one hand, Bon Bon reached for the weapon, and with the other- Sami’s hand snatched out to grab her by the outstretched armoured wrist, pulling her off balance and hurling her to the floor of the platform. The wooden boards shook beneath her impact.  “Did you really think I was stupid enough to trust you?” Sami snarled as she straddled Bon Bon, the knife glinting in her hand.  Bon Bon let the knife descend, cutting into her aura andbefore skittering off her shining breastplate, before she punched upwards, hitting Sami in the gut and making her stagger backwards to the platform edge. Bon Bon climbed to her feet as quickly as she could, pulling Whirlwind off her belt and holding it, in mace form, in both hands. Sami held her knife in one hand; the other hand, she held out before her, fist clenched, ready to strike or block. She grinned. “Do you think that tin suit will be enough to stop me?” She shook her head. “I never thought you had the guts to be what they said you were.” Bon Bon rushed her, trying to push the killer off the platform, but Sami was too quick for her, too nimble; she danced away, slashing at Bon Bon with her knife as she went, trying to push Bon Bon off the edge in turn – Bon Bon was just quick enough to drive her back with a clumsy swing of her mace. That was how it went, like a buffalo versus a wolf; Bon Bon would charge, and Sami would retreat, getting around her, getting behind her, and Bon Bon would only just be quick enough to stop Sami from taking advantage of that.  And always that knife, slashing swiftly, taking her aura further and further down.  This was why I wanted to catch her by surprise. She’d known that Sami was faster than she was, known that Sami had the killer instinct that she lacked; all the same, she had to do this. She had to try. For Lyra; she had tried her best to keep Lyra out of this, but she had ended up dragging her into the middle of it regardless. Now, maybe at the last chance, she had to save her. She had to do the right thing. She didn’t want Lyra to forgive her this time. She wanted her to be proud.  Just once, just this one time, let me fight like a huntress! She charged with a great shout, swinging Whirlwind one-handed; Sami ducked the blow, but Bon Bon managed to grab her with her free hand before she could slip away. Her spirit exulted. Now she had her! Now, all she had to do was- Behind her, Bon Bon heard the roar of some great beast, a roar full of rage and fury, a roar containing in it the promise of dire retribution; she felt a sudden heat, like an inferno flaring up out of nothing, upon her back, and she felt a great force propelling her forwards irresistibly. She lost her grip on Sami as they were both picked up by the sudden blast that hurled them off the platform and sent them careening down towards the battle raging beneath.  Ruby knelt in the eye of the storm.  The battle raged around her, but it did not come near her. She was immune to it, as though her aura had expanded outwards into an impenetrable shield that protected her from any menaces.  It wasn’t really like that, of course; if she had a shield, it was Ember and Prince Rutherford. Together, they fought in the pit, while the warriors of their clans battled the Queen’s forces around them, and if they didn’t fight deliberately to protect Ruby, that was certainly the effect they were having.  They couldn’t defeat Tyrian; he was too fast, too cunning, too experienced, too good, even for the two of them working together to pin him down and take him out. He leapt from place to place, sometimes clinging to the wire mesh like a spider, sometimes skittering on all fours across the sand, always cackling or leering or just smiling with that smile as sharp as a knife. He fired with the guns strapped to his wrists; he lashed out with blades and tail alike. Sometimes, he would spar with one or the other; sometimes, he would take both on for a moment, but he never let them trap him; he always kept moving, and he used that mobility to its fullest potential.  On the other hand, he wasn’t actually able to beat them either. Ruby didn’t know what kind of trials specifically Ember had had to pass to become Lord of the Summer Fire Clan, but she was no slouch in battle, fleet and agile, and with an impressive semblance too. Prince Rutherford was slower, wielding a great axe he had retrieved from the wall of the pit, but he was strong, and he seemed to have no trouble being used as a wall either for Ruby or for Ember. Considering that they were the chiefs of rival clans, they fought with astonishing coordination, their movements flowing into one another, playing off each other. Tyrian was probably better than either of them, but they fought as one, and he was not quite the superior of both of them together.  And so they fought, grunting and cackling, clashing weapons, crashing around the pit, but they came not near to Ruby. Tyrian could not approach her, and her defenders of the clans did not.  She was in the eye of the storm, untouched while it howled around her. Ruby did not fight. Perhaps she ought to have done so. Perhaps she ought to have fought for her own survival instead of letting others fight for her. Perhaps that was what a huntress would have done. Or would a huntress have done as Ruby had been willing to do: die for the sake of Freeport, to prevent it from being overrun by the grimm?. But Ember and Prince Rutherford and their clans had gotten in the way of that, and now… was it too late? It was too late for the Frost Mountain Clan and the Summer Fire Clan. Too late for Yona, too late for Smolder, too late for Prince Rutherford or for Ember, too late for any of them.  Which meant… Ruby wasn’t sure what that meant, for her at least. She wasn’t sure what she was meant to do now.  She had been willing to die, but that moment had passed, and yet… and yet… What now? Ruby knelt upon the sand, the sand that was stained with blood because she knelt by Sunsprite. Her cousin lay flat upon her back, her yellow cloak spread out beneath her, her dark garb stained deep crimson by the wounds that Tyrian had inflicted on her. Her eye was closed, and somehow, the violent manner of her death had not erased the look of serene resignation that she had worn in accepting her fate at the hands of her Queen.  Ruby could feel no pulse, but she held onto one of Sunsprite’s hands anyway, because… because… she didn’t know why she was doing that any more than she knew what she was supposed to do now, unless it was because she was all alone and wanted to pretend otherwise for a little while longer.  No tears ran down Ruby’s face, but not because she was not saddened by it all; she took no joy from this. Sunsprite had betrayed her, yes, but Ruby had understood why; the betrayal had been the right thing to do, for the greater good of Freeport and all who lived here. The Sun Queen’s betrayal of Sunsprite, in turn, had been… She didn’t want to think about that. She wasn’t going to kneel here and think about how it had been right to murder her cousin, to take another member of her family away from her. To leave her all alone.  All alone. Grandpa would be alone too. Who would tell him the truth? If Ruby survived the night, would that fall on her? If she did not survive, then what stranger would take up the task? How would he survive the news that Sunsprite was dead? Would he even wish to survive, to live in a world where his whole family had been taken from him? Would he wish to survive all alone? She didn’t know the answer.  Sunset stared at the golden mask, that hated mask that hid the hated face – her face, the most loathsome face that ever was.  She had killed Ruby. Sunset Shimmer had killed Ruby, one by commanding that the deed be done and the other twice, first by killing her hope and second by sitting idle in the centre of her mind when Ruby needed her.  She did not look away from that mask. She did not look anywhere else; she didn’t want to look anywhere else; she glared into that mask and tried to see the eyes concealed in shadow.  She wanted to see the terror in those eyes before she snuffed the life out of her.  Sunset Shimmer had killed Ruby, and she meant for only one of them to live to feel guilty about it.  With one hand, Sunset grasped her other self firmly by the throat, the strength of an earth pony squeezing upon it, grinding the Sun Queen’s aura beneath her grip; with the other hand, she reached into her pocket and fumbled for the ring of iron, the earth pony attuned element of her dark regalia that would give her the strength to tear herself apart with her bare hands.  She didn’t need to look to tell which ring it was; she could sense the one that she wanted, the three different types of magic calling to her, responding differently to her questing fingertips, singing out to her soul in different ways. The ring of iron, the earth pony ring, sang in a deep bass like the rumblings of the earth, and Sunset thrust her finger into the band of iron and felt the cold of the metal even through her glove.  She felt the strength flowing through her, all weariness departing, all the unfamiliarity of a body newly regained put to flight. She felt strong; she felt so, so strong.  Strong enough to kill them all and bathe this town in so much blood that, when it ran down through the streets and out into the ocean, the very sea itself would be dyed crimson with it.  Ruby was dead. The silver light had been snuffed out. The last rose had wilted, all its petals fallen.  Ruby was dead, and Sunset meant to give back to the Queen and all her followers their fill and more of bloodshed.  She would kill them all. She would make this town and all the dear ambitions of her other self into the funeral pyre of Ruby Rose, and the fires would burn so long and so brightly that Jaune and Pyrrha would look out from the White Tower of Mistral and see the firelight burning across the ocean and know in their hearts that Ruby was dead; Salem herself would see them from her dark fortress and tremble at the wrath of Sunset Shimmer!  And she would start with herself.  Come, friend, you too must die. The Sun Queen let out a strangled, choking sound as Sunset’s grip, so magically enhanced, tightened upon her throat. She began to burn, the fire consuming her neck, rising from her shoulders up to her chin.  Sunset laughed grimly. “Ah, yes,” she said, “this is your semblance, isn’t it? The Phoenix Armour. What was it you said to me? Something about it making you untouchable?” She moved her head closer, until her forehead was almost touching the golden mask. “I’m touching you now.” “You,” the Sun Queen snarled. “Me,” Sunset growled. “The only me.” “Where’s Dawn?” the Sun Queen demanded. “You’ll be seeing her soon enough,” Sunset declared. For a moment, the Sun Queen seemed not to react at all, or her reaction was contained beneath that damned impassive mask; then she screamed, a shriek of pain and anger like a bird who returns to the nest with a tasty worm only to find that all her chicks have become prey to crows.  And as she screamed, ungovernable flames leapt up from every inch of the Sun Queen’s body, the fires consuming her, an inferno springing from her body with such force that – enhanced strength or no – Sunset was hurled backwards, away from the Sun Queen and off the wooden platform. Everyone was hurled off the platform, and everyone fell down into the raging battle going on beneath.  Everyone fell but Sunset. She had no interest in the fighting down below, not yet. She would deal with the insects soon enough, but not yet. Right now, her thoughts were only for the Queen, her anger was only for the Queen, her vengeance would begin with the Queen because the Queen had given the order to snuff out Ruby’s life. And her name was Sunset Shimmer.  Sunset suspended herself in the air with telekinesis, a green glow of magic surrounding her as she hung in place, glowering at the burning Queen with eyes harder than emeralds. She summoned a touch of pegasus power, conjuring a wind that billowed majestically around her for no other reason than that she wanted her other self to know awe and terror before she died.  The Sun Queen did not look awed or terrified. Her face was hidden, but she stood alone now upon the platform, and yet, she held herself with the confident carriage of one who had an army at her back. She burned like a forest, flames of crimson and gold leaping up towards the ceiling, and the wood on which she stood beginning to smoulder too as the flames from her feet licked at it.  The two Sunsets stared at one another, wordless.  Sunset clenched her iron-ringed fist; she would rip that mask off and see what look the Sun Queen truly wore.   She propelled herself forwards, the magic driving her towards her target, but with a wordless roar, the Sun Queen thrust out her hands towards Sunset as twin goutsgusts of flame erupted towards her, the flames leaping from the Queen’s hands in continuous jets that hissed and roared and crackled.  Sunset threw up one hand, conjuring a shimmering emerald shield before her less than a moment before the flames struck with the force of a raging torrent, pushing her backwards, shield and all, forcing towards the wall of stone.  Sunset gritted her teeth and pushed herself forwards once more, pushing against the flames. The fires pushed back. Sunset’s movement was sluggish, and her shield of green was starting to glow red hot.  A second ring then, and why not? Why not become a monster?  Why not become what Ruby thought I was? Sunset reached into her pocket again, the golden ring calling to her in a high-pitched voice, a fair maiden’s voice who yet sang of power and vengeance. Sunset put on the golden ring, the unicorn ring, and the power that she felt… these flames were nothing to her now! She was so much stronger, so strong that the semblance of her other self seemed like the playing of a child by comparison. Sunset let out a great shout as she exploded her own shield, the power blasting outwards, snuffing out the flames, knocking her other self off her feet and to the smouldering wooden platform, her semblance disrupted, her flames dying.  Sunset dove for her.  The Sun Queen produced a pistol from out of her blue robes, a slight and slender barrelled thing from which she fired eight shots in rapid succession.  Pathetic, Sunset thought as she conjured another shield on which the bullets hammered harmlessly, do you really think that a popgun like that will be enough to stop me? I am Sunset Shimmer, the true Sunset, you pathetic copycat! I am Sunset Shimmer, neither pony nor human but a spirit of vengeance! Once more, the flames rose from the Sun Queen, leaping out of her, obscuring her from view; Sunset laughed as, protected by her shield, she soared through the flames to land once more upon the wooden platform. But the Sun Queen was gone.  Sunset bellowed in anger. She thought that she could hide? She thought that she could escape? Did she imagine that Sunset Shimmer would give up the chase? Did she imagine that there was anywhere she could hide after what she had done? Or did she simply wish to put off the moment of her inevitable death? “Coward!” Sunset roared as she strode towards the door, the door that led upwards to the chamber where the Sun Queen had entertained her – and stolen her body.  A cruel smirk spread across her face at the irony of it as Sunset tried the door. It was locked. Sunset shook her head, drew back her fist, and struck it hard enough that the heavy wood splintered and cracked beneath her blow. The robes of Sunset Shimmer, Queen of Freeport, flapped around her as she ran up the stairs. She could hear her other self breaking down the door behind her; well, that was fine; it didn’t have to hold her forever. Sunset wasn’t stupid; she knew that she couldn’t just hide away from her other self, at least not as upset as she seemed to be, and as determined to accomplish Sunset’s death. What does she have to be so upset about? She’s the one who killed my best friend. That thought almost made Sunset stop and stumble on the stairs. Dawn was dead. Her oldest friend, her best friend, her good right hand, the one that she had always been able to count on. Dead. Gone. And it was all the fault of Sunset Shimmer: one of them had killed her; the other had asked too much of her. Stupid, stupid idea. She should have done then what she was about to do now; it would have been a little more hard work, but it would have been less risky – for Dawn and for herself. If she hadn’t been so eager, if she hadn’t been so desperate to have the Equestrian magic under her control, then… then Dawny wouldn’t be… Sunset shook her head. She couldn’t think like that. She couldn’t dwell on the past. She couldn’t dwell on the fact that she wanted to kill her other self for what she’d done. Dawn would want her to keep moving forward, for the greater good of Freeport.  Dawn wouldn’t want her to get so caught up in revenge that she threw away everything that they had been working towards.  After the fiasco this was turning into, they would need all the power they could get.  By the time that her other self broke down the door at the bottom of the stairs, Sunset had reached the top of the stairs and put another door between her and her adversary. She locked that too and shoved a heavy chest in front of it besides to buy herself a little more time before she rushed across the room – notably more barren than it had been when she sprang the trap on Sunset – to the tapestry of the Duke of Westmorland receiving the submission of the clans.  She tore the tapestry off the wall and tossed it aside, digging into the loose stone beneath with her fingernails, pulling the brick out to reveal the dark hollow within. Sunset reached into the hollow, her fingers grasping desperately. She didn’t have long. She would take her other self’s memories. All of her memories; she would erase the memory of everything that she had ever done, everything that she had ever been, and turn her into an absolute innocent, someone who knew nothing of the world, her past, her abilities, anything. She would be adrift in this world, and Sunset would be free to mould her any way she wished, to play the mother and the sister and the friend, to tell her anything and be believed, to raise her to be the good servant she desired and the stalwart protector that Freeport needed. It would require her learning how to use her magic all over again, Sunset thought as she pulled out the stone, but at least she wouldn’t want to kill Sunset any more.  Sunset thought about her other self, about everything she knew- The door into the chamber exploded. Her other self strode in through the smoking debris. There almost looked to be a crimson cast to her skin and a darkness in the whites of her eyes, and upon her fingers gleamed three rings of gold, silver, and iron.  Sunset raised the stone, which began to glow with a rich red light- A blast of magic from the palm of her impostor self struck the stone as it began to work, shattering it with a great blast that made Sunset yelp with pain, clutching her hand as the shards fell to the chamber floor. And all the memories that she had stolen began to flood back across Remnant.  Cinder remembered. Her eyes widened, and her breath was stolen away from her with a gasp of shock as all the holes in her memory were filled, all the questions that she had had were answered, and everything that had disappeared in a single moment returned just as swiftly into her thoughts.  She remembered the party in Mistral, when she had inveigled Lionheart into letting her attend as his guest; she had wanted to meet Pyrrha Nikos, to look her in the eye, but while she had done that, she had also met someone who had left much more of an impression on her. Sunset. How could I have forgotten you? Sunset Shimmer, who had hunted alongside her; Sunset Shimmer, who had fought alongside and against her; Sunset Shimmer, who had not once but twice seen Cinder at her most vulnerable, when she had been confronted by Phoebe and when she had overtaxed herself with her half of the Fall Maiden’s powers; Sunset, who on both occasions had offered her compassion such as no one else had ever done; Sunset, who had never stopped reaching out to her, never stopped trying to touch her heart.  Sunset Shimmer, whom Cinder had thought to turn to evil, but who had ended up turning Cinder Fall to good instead.  Sunset, who had rescued her from Salem’s dark embrace and set her free, only for Cinder to find that all she wanted to do with her freedom was stay by the side of Sunset Shimmer.  How could I have forgotten? She felt like someone who had forgotten the sun, or what daylight was, suddenly stepping outside and recalling both those things for the first time. Not only did everything make much more sense now – Sunset was the reason she was here, Sunset was the reason she had given up the power of the Fall Maiden, Sunset was… Sunset was everything to her, and she was wonderful.  A foolish smile spread across Cinder’s face as her memories returned, bringing with them not only explanation but – more, so much more than that – warmth and light that pierced her soul and balmed it in equal measure.  Foolish because, as much as the sudden onrush of memories had momentarily blotted the fact from her mind, she was in the middle of a fight.  Laurel was not slow to take the opportunity; with a kick, she swept Cinder’s legs out from under her, breaking Cinder out of her reverie as the world – the real world, not the world of mind and memory that had been preoccupying her – tilted sideways, followed by sharp painful sensation as Laurel drove her dagger into Cinder’s stomach, hacking a chunk of her aura off even as she drove Cinder into the floor.  Laurel’s face was disfigured by a scowl as she raised her sabre to strike at Cinder’s face. BANG! The first shot from the rifle caught Laurel by surprise, hitting her square in the chest and sending her staggering backwards. Cardin worked the bolt, chambering another round, and fired again. Laurel parried the blow with her sabre. Cardin worked the bolt, fired again, and again, Laurel parried the blow – but in so doing meant that she could not parry the knife in Cinder’s hand as she slashed at Laurel’s shins with it. With her other hand, Cinder grabbed Laurel by the ankles, and it was her opponent’s turn to be hauled off her feet and onto the ground.  Cardin covered the distance between them, reversing the rifle and slamming the butt down onto Laurel’s face hard enough to shatter her remaining aura and knock her out for good measure. She groaned softly as she subsided into unconsciousness.  Cardin reversed his rifle again, pointing it at the comatose Laurel, even as he glanced at Cinder. “I know you said to leave it to you, but-” “Believe me, I’m not complaining,” Cinder replied, climbing to her feet. “She had me dead to rights, as it were, after I-” “Spaced out?” “Remembered everything,” Cinder corrected him. “I don’t know what happened, but… you must have felt it too, mustn’t you?” “You mean that I remember who Sunset Shimmer is, sure,” Cardin said. “Fortunately for the both of us, she doesn’t mean as much to me as she does to you, so I was able to get over the shock faster.” “Mhmm, I have to find her,” Cinder declared.  “Right now?” “Do you know where she is?” Cinder demanded. “No.” “No,” Cinder agreed. “Neither do I. Neither does anyone. Which, since she would never just abandon us, means that she must be in trouble. She needs me. I have to go to her.” She would do anything to help me. She did. Cardin frowned. “I guess,” he murmured. “We were made to forget about her, but she wouldn’t have disappeared unless-” He was cut off by a great booming sound, a thunderous noise like the detonation of an enormous bomb, shaking the Tower of the Sun as the noise echoed down to them.  “Or someone’s in trouble, at least,” Cardin finished. Ruby remembered. She remembered the first time they met, after the fight in the dust shop, and how Sunset had refused her offer to hang out afterwards. Thinking back, Ruby was struck by how lonely Sunset seemed as she walked away into the night. She remembered her first day in the locker rooms at Beacon and how uncomfortable she had felt getting changed where everyone could see her… until Sunset shielded Ruby from their gazes with her own body.  She remembered that it had been Sunset who had had the idea that they should all carve their initials on the wall, underneath the initials left by Mom and Dad, Uncle Qrow and Raven.  She remembered Sunset giving Ruby her mother’s diary and singing to her the night after the Forever Fall field trip. She remembered Sunset always being there for her, no matter what. Sunset was always there for all her friends, without fail, but for Ruby most of all.  Ruby closed her eyes. I’m not alone. I never was. Her body was wracked by a sob of mingled joy and sadness. Joy because she wasn’t alone any more; she had never been alone.  Sunset had always been there.  Sadness because she had forgotten that, allowed herself to forget that. How could she have forgotten so easily someone who had done so much for her? Even if something had been done to her, even if her memories had been taken and then given back, what did it say about her that she could forget so easily? Sadness too, because as she remembered Sunset, she also remembered all the other things that Sunset had done. She remembered Sunset confessing the truth of what she had done during the Breach and how angry she had felt towards her… and how she had never forgotten it, no matter what Sunset had done since.  What she did was terrible. What she did was refuse to do what the Sun Queen did so easily and sacrifice the few to save the many. Well, maybe the Sun Queen was right? Do I really believe that, even now? I… I don’t know. But even if she wasn’t, that didn’t mean that she did the right thing! Not even Sunset claims that she did the right thing any more. That was true. Sunset had long ago stopped claiming that. And yet, when Ruby looked at Sunset, that was all she could see: the Breach, that one mistake, the terrible thing that she had done. She had never forgiven her for it, never let her live it down, blamed Sunset for everything to come out of it, even Yang’s death. She had been blind – blinded herself – to how much Sunset was hurting. To how much Ruby was hurting her.  Did I ever even ask her how she was feeling? Distance from her memories, and their sudden return rushing back into her mind, gave her a new perspective. She still couldn’t agree with Sunset, but now… now she found it harder – nay, impossible – to hold it against her, to hold onto the grudge that she had clung to in her grief, to let it wipe out everything that Sunset had done for her and for everybody else. She had to find her.  She needed to find Sunset. She didn’t know where she was, but she had to… Ruby opened her eyes, looking down upon the visage of Sunsprite Rose: serene, peaceful, lifeless. Sunsprite’s blood was upon Ruby’s hand, as well as staining her tunic and her yellow cloak and all the sand around.  An image flashed before Ruby’s eyes, Sunset’s face replacing that of Sunsprite: two eyes closed instead of one, her flaming her splayed out behind her, mingling with the blood which soaked through her jacket.  Ruby let out a choking sound. No. No, Sunset couldn’t be dead, not after Ruby had just gotten her back, not after she remembered, not after she saw things more clearly. Then where is she? She’s always been there before when I’ve been in trouble, always. That doesn’t mean she’s dead! Maybe- An explosion thundering from above cut off all Ruby’s thoughts, interrupting the battle for a moment as all eyes were drawn upwards towards the sound, as dust fell from the ceiling and the tower trembled so fiercely that warriors were knocked off their feet by it and the combatants forced to separate and regroup lest they should all fall down together.  Tyrian, clinging to the wire mesh that ringed the pit, out of reach of Ember and Prince Rutherford, did not look upwards. However, he did cock his head one side and let out a musing sound as though the great boom meant something to him. He leapt away, jumping headlong into the press of battle raging around the pit, disappearing from Ruby’s sight. Not that she was much concerned with him anyway, not right now.  “Sunset,” Ruby murmured. She didn’t know how she knew; she had no proof, but she knew anyway; she felt it in her soul with absolute certainty: that was where Sunset was; that was where she needed to go.  Maybe it’s my turn to save you for once. Blood soaked Bon Bon's tunic and stained the inside of her armour; it felt warm and stuck upon her skin. Her aura was gone, and Sami's semblance had told her exactly where to find the weak spot in Bon Bon's armour, beneath her armpit. Now, Bon Bon gasped, and her pained breathing came heavily as she clutched at the wound with one hand and leaned against the wall for support. She was going to die. She knew that. A part of her had always known it, since she had failed to catch Sami by surprise. The reindeer faunus was too quick for her, too nimble, too vicious. It was just no contest. There was blood on Sami's knife. Bon Bon's blood. Sami's eyes glinted wickedly as she gazed upon her victim. There was no mercy in those eyes; Sami meant to kill her, and to take pleasure in it, what was more. Bon Bon was going to die. And yet, that did not trouble her. Not anymore. It wasn't exactly that she wanted to die, but she was prepared to, if it came to it. She had done some bad things in her life, and even more stupid ones, but this... this was not something that she regretted. It might have been stupid, but it had at least been right, and if this was the end, then it was a better end than many that she could have had recently. A better end than Dove had been granted by fate. She, at least, would get to go out like a huntress, even if she didn't really deserve to. I did the right thing in the end. I suppose there are worse epitaphs. Bon Bon stared into Sami's eyes. "Go on, then," she growled, as Whirlwind slipped from her grasp. "Do it." Sami smirked and took her first step forward. And Bon Bon remembered. As much to the point, so did Sami. Bon Bon remembered the person who had taken offence to her mistreatment of Blake, but Sami seemed to be remembering the reason – and it made sense to Bon Bon now, why Sami hadn't run off earlier – why she had stuck with them for so long: out of fear of Sunset Shimmer and her power. Sami's eyes widened, and she looked around her in a startled fashion, seeming to expect to find Sunset lurking in her shadow, waiting to spring out at her and exact punishment for all of her misdeeds in Sunset's absence. When the world exploded above them, Sami practically jumped, and stumbled, and Bon Bon was left to wish that she had a mite of aura left because now, now, she might have taken Sami by surprise. Unfortunately, hurting as she was, that was probably a little beyond her now. Whatever the cause of that explosion might have been, it was Tyrian who caught Sami by surprise, not Sunset, landed nimbly next to her, idly cutting down a warrior of the Summer Fire clan who was nearby. "Come on," he snapped. "We're leaving." Sami blinked rapidly; the words of her new master seemed to recall her to some kind of sense. "What? We're going? But-" "We'll find another way," Tyrian declared. "Come on, we've wasted enough time here." Sami glanced at Bon Bon, helpless before her, and it was plain from the look in her eyes that she wanted to finish her opponent off first, but it was equally clear from the look on her face that she didn't dare to defy Tyrian in this, so she simply nodded her head and said, "Of course. Lead the way," and followed him where he led, carving a bloody swathe through Rangers and clan warriors alike, cutting a way for them out of the fighting. Bon Bon slid down the wall. Her head was spinning. She wanted to sleep, even though she knew she shouldn't, but it was so hard to keep her eyes open. "Bon Bon! BON BON!" Bon Bon blinked lazily; the face in front of was blurry but, at the same time, unmistakable. "Lyra. I'm glad you're here. Here, at the-" "Don't talk like that!" Lyra snapped. "You're going to be okay. Stay with me, Bon Bon, you have to stay with me!" Three rings.  Three rings gleamed on Sunset’s fingers.  She had put on the last of them as she climbed the stairs in pursuit of that fleeing worm who dared to wear her face and profane the name of Sunset Shimmer. The last of them, the silver ring, the pegasus ring, the ring that sang to her in airy, operatic cries.  She wore all three things, and it felt glorious. Power flowed through her, the power of all three pony races magnified at once. She truly was more than Sunset Shimmer, more than a pony, more even than an alicorn, more powerful than Twilight or Celestia or any of them! She was Nemesis itself, as inevitable as the setting sun, as inescapable as time. Her other self had been so full of pride that she had thought that she could transgress without punishment; she had thought that she could put Ruby to death without consequence.  Perhaps men could not touch her, but Sunset could. Now, she could give herself all that she deserved; now, she could do anything.  She stood in the doorway, her eyes fixed upon her other self. How she hated her. How she despised Sunset Shimmer. Ruby had spoken true; she had ruined everything, from the moment she had shown herself. I wish I’d never met you. She could not bring Ruby back. Even with all her power, she had not the magic to restore life from out of death.  She could not save Ruby, but she would make Sunset regret what she had done.  Sunset held out one hand, wreathed in green magical light, and the Sun Queen’s golden mask flew off her face and into Sunset’s waiting grip. Sunset glanced idly at it, such a ludicrous thing, such a pathetic piece of play acting: hiding her face, going out in disguise pretending to be someone, telling made up stories about her life, talking of myth-making and legend-building as though she were some great hero of the elder days.  With one hand, Sunset crushed the mask, crumpling it into an unrecognisable mess before she dumped the twisted gold onto the floor.  “You are no legend,” she sneered, advancing with a leonine grace upon her prey. “You are no myth.” She could see the other Sunset’s face now, her eyes wide with alarm. She liked that. She wanted more of it; she wanted her whole face to be convulsed with fear. “Legends are made by deeds,” she said. “By great actions that resound through the ages. What have you done but lie and trick and steal and tell stories?” Sunset shook her head. “You are no legend. You are nothing.” “I am Sunset Shimmer, Sun Queen of Freeport and Estmorland!” the Sun Queen roared, and as she spoke, she cast off her royal robes to reveal that beneath the cloth she wore a shirt of mail, the rings of which glistened in the firelight. “I have made myself a queen, and though you take my life, I will die a queen still.” Once more, the flames consumed her, rising from every part of her body. “And I won’t go down without a fight!” It might have been impressive, once. It might once have made her look something more than human, a spirit of fire itself. Perhaps that was why those fools like Dawn had followed her. But it did not impress Sunset Shimmer; she was nothing, just a liar with a glib tongue and a little charisma who talked saps into following where she led, even though the only place she led them was to their deaths. Saps, or sapphires. Sunset scowled, and a low growl rose from her throat. She would kill her, and she would not be stayed or halted by some flames. Sunset called upon a mere touch of the magic at her command, conjuring the suit of magical armour around herself that she had once cast to impress Lady Nikos, in those days that seemed so long ago. Thus armoured, she attacked. She was faster than the Sun Queen, she was stronger than the Sun Queen, and the armour allowed her to strike at will without worrying about losing her aura in the process. She had more than enough magic to keep up this spell, replenishing the strength of it even as it was worn away by the flames, and as the Phoenix Armour of the Sun Queen met the magical armour of the forsaken huntress, it was the magical armour that proved superior. She hit the Sun Queen in the gut so that she doubled over, then kneed her in the burning face. She hit whatever part of her enemy that she could reach, fighting with no technique but the strength of an earth pony magnified many, many times over. She beat the Sun Queen’s guard aside whenever she let her enemy recover enough to offer one, fighting not like the wind but rather a wave that simply crashes onto the shore and sweeps away all before it. She pummelled, she pounded, she kicked, she beat the Sun Queen until all her precious flames, the armour of which she had once boasted so proudly, ebbed away to nothing as her aura shattered under Sunset’s onslaught.  Sunset threw her away; she hit the floor with a crunch as her face struck the stone. She lay still. Sunset feared that she had killed herself too soon, before the fear could properly take hold, but before she could rage at her enemy for cheating her of all the vengeance she desired, the Sun Queen groaned and raised her head. Her nose was broken, and she was bleeding from it, her face smeared red. She spat blood onto the stone floor.  “All I did,” she began, “was for-” Sunset shut her up with a spell that sewed up her mouth, or took her mouth away, depending on how you wanted to look at it, leaving her with nothing but flesh between her chin and nose. She wasn’t interested in hearing what she had to say; nothing that she could say could justify what she had done.  She let her other self panic for a moment, taking glee from the ‘mm-mm’ noises that she made, unable to get any words out, before she reversed the spell.  “You’re right,” Sunset told her, in a voice as sharp as a blade. “You are Sunset Shimmer. But you will not share in infamy of my name any longer.” She raised both hands, and outside the tower, a great storm began to rage, and the pealing of the thunder could be heard within, penetrating the stone walls to echo rumblingly in their chamber. The Sun Queen looked around, and now she looked alarmed, as the thunder roared from all around the tower, as the wind howled, as the flashes of lighting illuminating the bleak night sky, casting their shadows across the room.  Sunset smirked and held out her right hand, glowing with magic until she could no longer see her hand, until it was obscured by emerald light burning as brightly as the sun. Sunset turned, almost twirling, sweeping her hand around herself as magic erupted from out of it, destroying the top of the tower.  The walls exploded, the ancient stone which had survived long years, centuries of neglect, war, and occupation falling in instants to the magic of Sunset Shimmer; the pinnacle of the tower fell, descending from on high to crush what remained of the curtain wall and fill the ruined castle with rubble; stones and beams and other debris fell down, a rain of ruin descending.  The two Sunsets now stood – or knelt – at the new top of the tower, upon the highest pinnacle that yet remained, while the storm howled around them and the wind lashed them and the lightning crackled and the thunder roared.  “You are the same as I am!” the Sun Queen shouted, howling to be heard over the roar of the storm. “We both sought to protect what was ours, no matter the cost.” “The same?” Sunset shouted. “No!” Did she still think that? Could she still believe that? What would it take to show her better? Show, show… yes, I will show her the truth. I will show her what I really am. Ruby thought I was a monster, after all. I should not disappoint her. Sunset clenched her hands into fists and concentrated. A monster. A monster of vengeance, a monster to punish the guilty, a monster to cleanse this filthy town of all its sins. They were all guilty, they were all complicit, they would all suffer by her hand for her hubris.  Sunset screamed as she was consumed by her own magic, burned up by it, transfigured by it, clothes and all, until the only part of herself that remained were the rings upon her fingers, fingers that had become claws on which the dark regalia glowed.  Sunset had remade herself, fashioning an entirely new body out of rage and grief and torment. She was no huntress now; she was no longer the leader of Team Sapphire, no longer the sacrificial lamb upon whose shoulders the sins of Vale had all been piled up. Her skin was red and raw, her limbs were long and powerful, a pair of leathery wings so crimson they looked stained with blood had burst out of her back, the whites of her eyes had now turned black, and instead of hair like fire, her hair was fire, an inferno blazing on her scalp.  It had been agony to so transform herself; it had felt as though she was being flayed, every part of herself ripped to its component atoms and then put back together, reassembled into something else, something different, something better. “You and I,” Sunset declared. “Are nothing alike.” Now, the Sun Queen looked afraid. Now, she looked terrified. Her eyes were wide, her nostrils flared, her newly recovered lips trembled in fear; her hands shook too. Now, she comprehended her position and what folly it had been to challenge so great a power as Sunset had possessed. You thought that because you shared my name that we were equals, and that you could take from me what was most precious in the world. I hope you understand that it was never so. “Please,” the Sun Queen pleaded. “Please, I… I can be of service to you. I can place my power at your disposal, I-” Sunset raised her hand, and her other self was surrounded by the green glow of telekinesis as Sunset lifted her up, still begging for her life, writhing and wriggling, into the heart of the storm.  “If you would die a queen,” Sunset growled, “then try for at least a little dignity.” The fear upon the Sun Queen’s face was replaced by a flash of anger. “Damn you!” Sunset blinked. “You already did,” she said, before she called down the lightning.  Forks and tridents of flashing white lightning erupted from out of the clouds, not random now but directed according to Sunset’s will, and it was Sunset’s will that they should strike the Sun Queen, the one who wore her face. The lightning hammered her from all sides, rippling up and down her body while she screamed in agony, and her shrieking was a delight to Sunset’s ears. “Ruby,” she whispered. “Please accept this offering of vengeance. Accept this offering… and forgive me.” The lightning stopped. For a moment, the Sun Queen hung suspended in the air. Then Sunset struck her with a magical blast powered by all her wrath, all her sorrow, all her desire to make someone, anyone, pay for what had been done to Ruby. A desire to punish the one responsible: herself.  The Sun Queen was consumed by Sunset’s blast, and when the magic died, not a trace of her remained.  Sunset snorted. “So much for her.” She rose off the floor and into the air, to where she could look down upon the city by the sea. Freeport was lit up, and from the streets arose the sounds of voices raised in panic. She could see them looking out of their windows, running to and fro in the streets, screaming and shouting. They were undeterred by the storm, for they had seen or heard the tower fall, and now they wondered what was to become of them.  What was to become of them? Perhaps it might be said that they were not to blame, that all they needed was a more just hand than they had been given. In place of a Sun Queen, a dark queen might suit them better, or at the very least rule them better, whether they wanted her or not.  No. No, that was not what she desired. That part of her, that sought a crown, had died long ago; the vestiges of her that Amber had sought to stir up had died with Ruby.  There was nothing that she wanted now but to see all these maggots put to death. She would kill them all. For what they had done to Ruby, for what they had done to her, for the fact that she had so much anger waiting to unleash upon the world, because she had the power to strike them down she would.  The destruction she would wreak tonight would be glorious! “Sunset?” Sunset gasped, bearing her demonic fangs as she whirled around. Ruby stood not in the doorway, because that had been destroyed, but at the top of the stairs.  “Ruby?” Sunset whispered. “You… you’re alive?” Dawn lied to me?  Hah! She must have sought to put me off balance! Fool! How are your purposes fallen upon your head! Never before had she been so glad to be mistaken. Never before had she wanted to see Ruby less. “I, yeah,” Ruby said, her voice confused-sounding. “You… Sunset, what happened to you?” Sunset laughed, throwing back her head and joining her cackling to the sound of the storm that raged around them, that buffeted Ruby with wind and rain. She laughed, and while she laughed, Cinder joined Ruby at the top of the stairs, staring at her eyes that were clouded and inscrutable. “What happened to me?” Sunset repeated. “Don’t you recognise me, Ruby Rose? This is what I always was: a monster.” “I never thought that you were a monster-” “Don’t lie to me!” Sunset roared, and the flames that were her hair burned higher in spite of the rain and the wind. Ruby shrank back, bumping into Cinder behind her. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’m sorry for… for everything. For all the things I said, for all the things I did. I… I don’t know how I… I’m sorry.” “Where is the Queen?” Cinder asked, her voice soft and smooth and even. “Dead,” Sunset declared dismissively. “And the rest of this town will follow.” “What?” Ruby cried. “No, Sunset, you can’t!” “'Can’t'?” Sunset snarled. “There is no such word as can’t, Ruby, when one has the power that I possess. I can lay waste to Freeport, I can kill everyone within these walls, I can burn a path from here to the mountains if I wish to!” She laughed once more. “And why not?” she demanded. “You spurned me, Ruby Rose; you called me villain. Well, since I am a villain, then beware my wrath! I shall be such a villain that the world shall tremble!” She paused. “And it shall begin here, in Freeport, and when they come and see the empty shell that I have left of it, they shall know the cost of defying me.” “What of the clans?” Cinder asked. “The Frost Mountain and the Summer Fire Clans aided us; they fought to save Ruby’s life. Will they be punished for that?” “No,” Sunset said at once. “They shall be spared, but all the rest-” “You’ll leave alone,” Cinder declared. Sunset’s raw and angry red lips curled into a sneer. “Will I? And why is that?” “Because that is who you are,” Cinder said, stepping lightly around Ruby and walking towards Sunset. Her heels clicked upon the stone floor. “You are no monster.” “Others see me less generously than you.” “The Sunset that I know taught me that we don’t have to be what others think we are,” Cinder said. “We can be more; we can be so much more. We can be so much better than they think.” “And for what?” Sunset demanded. “It never changes the way they see us! Our sins will never be forgiven; well then, why seek for grace?” “Because it changes the way we see ourselves,” Cinder insisted. “Please, Sunset, come back to us.” “'Come back'?” Sunset repeated incredulously. “Come back to chains, come back to disdain, come back to servitude? No. Whatever I am now, at least I’m free. I don’t have to do what they say, I don’t have to be their sacrifice… I don’t have to care what they think. I’m free now, free of all of them.” She looked away from Cinder, and at Ruby once more. “I am free of you, Ruby Rose, free of your morals and your cant. Your disapproval has no power over me any longer!” “I never wanted power-” “You sought to make me a slave to your morality,” Sunset cried. “To cast me in chains of rectitude, to make me tremble at your frowns, to squirm in agony at your displeasure; well, no more! The fears that once controlled me cannot get to me at all now. And you, too, Cinder Fall. I will not exchange one mistress for another, one constraint for another.” “Then you will be alone?” Cinder asked. “Is that what you want?” “At least when I’m alone, I’m free.” “Free to do what?” Cinder demanded. “Whatever I please, to whomever I wish; do you realise what they did to me?” Sunset screamed. “They stole my body! They violated my mind and soul! And they will pay, all of them, for what they’ve done!” She spread her wings and prepared to descend with vengeance on the town.  They wanted magic, then magic is what I will give them. “No!” Ruby cried, crossing the distance between the two of them in a burst of rose petals. She reformed, her hands small and pale as they reached out to touch the hand of Sunset Shimmer. “I won’t lose you, not again!” Sunset had no time to speak before their hands met. There was a blinding light that consumed everything.