//------------------------------//
// Ponyville 
// Story: Ruin 
// by RB_ 
//------------------------------//

“Alright,” Twilight said. “Today’s the big day.”

They were in the tent. It was a cooler day today, though not by much.

Sunset nodded, took a deep breath. She was already suited up, and her respirator mask hung from her hand by a strap.

Her stomach felt like it was tied in knots. She’d been both anticipating and dreading this day since her first trip through the portal.

Today was the day.

Today, she’d find out what had happened to Ponyville.

“I’m ready when you are.”





Sunset took the stairs down to the ground level of the castle, each footfall echoing off the dull crystalline walls. Her boots left prints in the dust that had accumulated on each step.

Down she went, coming at last to a pair of doors. These opened easily enough, revealing the castle’s throne room, or perhaps ‘thrones’ would be the more accurate term, given there were seven of them, all surrounding a single round table.

“Okay,” Sunset said. “I’m in the throne room.”

“The doors across the room from you lead to the entrance,” came Starlight’s voice over the earpiece.

“Got it.”

“Is…” There was a moment of hesitation. “Is the map still working?”

“Map?” Sunset said. “What map?”

“Nevermind,” Starlight said. “I guess we don’t have any way to activate it, anyway.”

Sunset carried on, circling the outside of the room. Her eyes fell on the throne with a starburst etched into it, and the smaller throne next to it.

They seemed… emptier than the others, somehow.

Sunset shook her head. She continued on her way.

Through the doors on the other end of the room lay a long entranceway; Sunset headed down it. Windows lined the hall, but she couldn’t see out of any of them, obscured by grime as they were.

And there they were: the main doors. Sunset drew up short before them. They were ornate, and taller than she was, and suddenly Sunset felt very small.

She took a deep breath.

Beyond those doors lay…

Sunset placed her hands on the doors.

…lay…

She swallowed.

Grimacing, she pushed the doors open. A breeze blew out with them, like the castle was sighing… or, perhaps, letting out one last breath.

Sunset looked out, from her vantage at the top of the steps. A long dirt path led away from the castle, her eyes followed it up, up…

The dust was thicker, down on the ground. It was hard to see far; visibility was measured in meters, not miles.

What she could see made a knot in her stomach. 

“Sunset?” came a voice over the earpiece. Sunset barely heard it, let alone processed whose voice it was.

No, she could do nothing but stare blankly forwards.

She wasn’t looking at a town.

She was looking at the remains of one.





Empty buildings and yellowed grass greeted Sunset as she walked, the crunching of her boots on the path the only combatant against the quiet.

She stepped over a watering can discarded on the side of the path. If it had been full when it had been dropped, it wasn’t any longer. Not that it mattered; the bed of daisies it had been headed for had no doubt already withered.

It was one of many objects left behind, all abandoned. There was a purse, golden coins looking tarnished in the light. There was a fruit stall, baskets overturned and their contents melting into the dirt. There was an empty mug, left turned over on a windowsill.

There was a baby carriage, sitting upright and undisturbed in the middle of the path. Sunset sucked in a breath and peeked inside, but all it contained was a teddy bear with a red ribbon tied around one paw.

She passed what must have been a restaurant. Tables with umbrellas sat in uneven rows; no chairs. Some of the tables still had plates on them. The restaurant itself had collapsed, seemingly under its own weight; wooden beams stood out of the wreckage at odd angles. It was not alone. Many of the buildings Sunset had passed were in a similar state. 

Her boot nudged something. Sunset looked down. It was the remains of a bird, just a skeleton and feathers in a pile of… of rot.

She left the bird behind and turned a corner, coming face to face with a… well, it must have been a shop of some sort, judging by the glass window displays on the half that was still standing. The other half had collapsed, a pile of wood and browned thatch. The force of the fall had torn the sign over the door in half. The side that remained bolted above the distorted doorframe indicated it had been a candy store.

The timbers that jutted out of the wreckage were blackened, though not from fire. Approaching the doorframe, Sunset reached out and pressed a finger into the wood. It sank in easily, the surface pliant and spongy under her touch.

“It’s like it’s… rotting,” Sunset said. “Everything’s rotting.”

“Rotting?”

“Yeah,” Sunset said, unable to describe what she was seeing in any other way.

“Can you get me a sample?”

“Sure,” Sunset replied. She fumbled with one of the pockets on her belt; out came a little plastic vial with a lid.

Reaching out again, she gouged out a sample with a gloved forefinger, leaving an angry mark behind. This was scraped into the vial, and the vial replaced in the pocket it had come from.

That deed done, she raised a hand to the plastic of her mask and peered into what was left of the store. Several glass cases formed the front of a counter. One of them had been smashed open by a falling beam, strewing glass across the floor.

A horrible creaking sound split the air. Sunset stumbled back, just in time. Her arms went to her face; she could feel splinters bouncing off of them. Dust exploded into the air.

When it settled, she looked up. The other half of the store had collapsed, taking the remaining half of the sign with it. And besides the sounds of her breathing and her heart hammering in her chest, the world once again fell silent.

“Sunset? Are you alright? We heard a noise—”

“I’m fine,” Sunset said, quickly. “A building collapsed.”

“Collapsed!? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No,” Sunset replied. “Like I said, I’m fine.”

She let out a breath.

“How much time do we have left?”

“Twenty minutes,” came Starlight’s voice.

“Alright,” Sunset said. “I’m going to take some pictures. Then I’ll head back.”

“Roger.”

She pulled the camera out, removed it from its casing. Held it up to her eye. Pointed it at the wreckage.

Click.





When Sunset stepped back through the portal, she did not stumble. That was the first thing Twilight noticed.

The second was the hollow look in the other girl’s eyes as she pulled off her mask.

“Sunset?”

Sunset let out a long breath. She looked over at Twilight.

“It’s bad, Twilight,” she said. “It’s really bad.”

She pulled off the camera strap, tossed it over to Twilight. Twilight fumbled with it a bit, but she got a hold of it, and removed the camera from its black metal case.

Starlight stood up from her desk, made her way slowly over to Twilight, while Sunset busied herself stripping off her suit. Starlight peered over Twilight’s shoulder as she brought up the images Sunset had taken.

Twilight swallowed. She scrolled to the next picture, then the next, her heart falling further and further into her stomach with each successive image.

They depicted the ruins of what once must have been Ponyville. Collapsed buildings. Rotting timbers. Death. The corpse of a town, if such a thing could exist. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades, but she knew that only a few weeks ago it had been a happy, welcoming place. At least, that was the picture she’d dreamed up.

These were not that. These were not that at all.

“I, um, I need to—”

It was Starlight who had spoken. Twilight wrenched her eyes away from the camera, just in time to see Starlight run out of the tent, one hand over her mouth.

Sunset all but collapsed into her chair. She looked like the wind had been taken out of her.

“What do we do, Twilight?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Twilight replied, honestly. “Do we… do we tell the Ponyvillians about this?”

Sunset paused for a moment. “They deserve to know,” she said, but there was hesitancy in her voice.

They did deserve it, of course they did. But still, Twilight couldn’t help but wonder how they would take the news that, when they went back to Equestria…

…there might not be an Equestria to go back to.





Starlight hovered over the toilet, both hands on the rim. She gagged. Something came crawling up her throat.

She emptied the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl.

She could feel more coming up. She tried to breathe, but her breaths were ragged and coarse.

In-out.

In-out.

In—

She retched. Her stomach muscles began to cramp. A grunt of pain escaped from her mouth.

Images played through her mind. Images of dust and ruin. Of decay and desolation.

Because what she’d seen in those pictures…

…was all too familiar.

“Starlight? Are you in here?”

It was Sunset’s voice, Starlight vaguely recognized, before another bout of retching. Yellow liquid dripped from her mouth into the bowl.

Starlight felt a hand on her back, warm. Someone pulled her hair back.

After what felt like an eternity, the sickness passed. Starlight got off her knees and leaned back against the wall of the stall. She took a few deep breaths.

“Are you okay?” Sunset asked. Starlight nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Sunset said.

“No, it’s not… not your fault,” Starlight replied. “I just…” her mind whirled for an excuse. “I just wasn’t ready.”

“I understand.”

“It’s really… it’s really as bad as those pictures?”

Sunset nodded.

Starlight swallowed.

“We can’t show the others.”

“Why not? They’ll find out eventually…”

“Please,” Starlight said. “We can’t… We can’t do that to them. Not now. Wait until after… after the next expedition, with the others. It’ll soften the blow if it’s coming from them. Please, Sunset.”

Sunset looked doubtful, but: “If you’re sure…”

Starlight nodded.

“I’m sure.”







Dear Princess Twilight,

I saw Ponyville. What was left of it.

Please answer me. I’m begging you, if you’re reading this, please answer.

Sunset Shimmer