Time... has run out.
The intangible concept itself has died. Perished, and won't return. Ever.
So it would seem when one looked upwards at the forever blackened sky. Or, was passed for it in these troubled days. Yet... creatures, as they tended to, divided themselves into two distinctive and extremely radical camps.
Those who thought that the sky, time, all that pizzazz... was gone and they all bought their time till the universe inevitably ends. That once they are gone, this is it. Poof. Auf Wiedersehen. Goodbye.
Those who thought it just another step in ever-pressing evolution, ever marching forward. With... or without them. Those many who figured that.. time or not, it will be fine on its own still.
What united them was one simple thing. They both thought themselves lost and were resigned to their supposed fate whatever it might be. Also, they weren't the third group.
Those who just didn't give a damn.
Those who just all continued to live... or not. Those many who lived their damnedest day to day... or ended themselves before the next Thursday.
It was all so.. depressing.
Still. Even here, at what the scholars of all sides thought was the end of times, people were people.
They drugged.
They rehabilitated.
They cheated.
They loved.
They schemed.
They lived.
Both the greatest empathic cosmopolitans and most heinous murderous monsters lived under the same "roof" for centuries. For millennia of documented history. Possibly much longer.
How can be one species so different from each other?
Simple. They can't.
One hundred seventy-two thousand six hundred thirty-nine.
172,639 intelligent species identified so far on this one forgotten planet. Is it much? People seem to think so. Scholars think so. Actual statistics are far beyond them, as there are no other planets with intelligent life to compare and animal life is as numerous as them if not more. Some species number in tens of millions, some... you could count on the fingers of a single hand. A regular five-fingered hand, mind you.
She could enumerate almost 75,000 of those species from her near eidetic memory.
There were Karshék, Chronch, Ralrites, Protonades...
And people like her... Omegas. All known five of them. They weren't really a species, far from it, but people lugged them together regardless of their opinion. There could be more, but there is no way to know for sure. It wasn't her fault for being superior to most animate life. They didn't name themselves at the top of the food chain, the rest named them as such. Still, the title carried weight like no other, as there were only seven beings on this whole forsaken planet more powerful than those designated Omegas.
She was number nine from the top by the way.
Still..
Omega Two. Number Two. The other one. The one below. Omega the Prequel. Omega Two Electric Boogaloo.
Beings could be cruel.
Those who knew her in more detail? Those who actually met her?
Lavender Lady. Ma'am. Chief. Almighty One. Please No. Forest Drinker. God.
She was more partial to just Twilight. Easy to remember too.
What's even funnier. None of them were even similar to each other in appearance or biological traits. Omega was more of an honorary title than actual species designation, but since none of them fit into any already established ones, the name would have to suffice.
Let's be honest here for a moment. The title? It was utterly wasted on her. She would rather watch mycelia grow for the next century than call herself the near almighty Omega.
Yet life cared diddly squat about what you thought was morally right or wrong and sometimes pushed you to be the crown protégé of the Number One, The Apex Predator of The Planet, Primal Diarch of the biggest country of the continent, Magna Regne, Celanoir, Supreme Being, Plasmatical Lady, The Everlasting Sun, The Lay of the March, Ocean Scorch and the Ruler of the Day... etcetera ad infinitum.
Celestia.
The most powerful being upon this floating rock.
You tend to acquire a few titles when you live to be almost six thousand, bend to your will and command the closest appropriation to a star this planet system has to offer.
Still... Twilight tried, all believed in gods know she tried, to remain humble. Even if she was granted the top floors of the third tallest building on the planet as her sixteenth birthday gift, to command them as she saw fit. Figuratively and literally. As far as anyone knew, she could do anything within those five floors and to people in them... none could oppose her will. Fortunately, neither she nor her mentor were of the power-abusing sort... too much. As the teacher once said, "They both were simply cut from a different clay. The more malleable kind."
Yet here she was. Reading. In the darkness of her study. Alone. Again.
She dared to look out the wall-spanning window.
And so, she saw the neon add-lights shining upon the concrete faces of the multistory buildings found in New Canterlot, all the peace and ignorance of the bustling public passing by them each and every night, the multitude of glass tubes oblivious to the hardships of the lowly flesh beings who received their electricity induced glow. Yet, some mortals are more ambitious than others.
They gladly look up in an attempt to understand the glowing gases contained within the depths of quartz tubes.
Yet a lot of her superb vision was concentrated and wasted on some random guy who would rather douse himself with chemically pure ethanol in some shifty suburb pub than spend the rest of the evening with his chosen one, a partner who'll he spend the rest of his remaining time with. Because, let's be honest.. there's not much of it left..
"I can't watch this."
Back to the book then.
Dichotomy, omitting its numerous prime examples in the fields of mathematics, philosophy, literature or linguistics, is most certainly best displayed and documented in the science certainly closest to the hearts of our planet's numerous residents - Thaumatology, named after the amount of mana needed to lift a kilogram of substance precisely one meter above the ground for the period of a single hour, amounting to exactly one Thaum.
Curiously, while it's true that our natural affinity to use what we broadly call magic is being induced by our bodies' Arcanic Tissue Network, the energy required for the process to work at all comes from the very depths of cosmos in the form of natural background radiation that all currently living beings (Including some non-animate objects. For reference shift to page 247.) display the ability to absorb and transform within their A.T.N organelles into mana, which is later stored inside the very same structure, albeit in vastly different specialized cells.
Getting back to the chapter's topic at hand, the dichotomy is most visible in the positively ancient divide of the wizardry, namely- Light and Dark Magic. Almost none of the spells conceived through the ages, be it harmonious ones or those of the most vile variety, incorporate even a sliver of the opposite branch methodology, and the ones that do so, most obviously often backfire immediately or do not work at all when taken out of the theoretical environment. There simply isn't any example of a feasible spell conceived by using both branches of magic simultaneously. While it's true that there do exist dark spells suited to healing any mortal wound and ones of harmonics that are capable of leveling a skyscraper, they still stay within their respective department's methodologic boundaries.
Although, some more tribal cultures still hold beliefs that such synergy is most certainly possible, granting whoever manages to discover its secret the powers akin to Godhood. Despite this, numerous amateur and even academic attempts failed to achieve anything of note in the field, to the point of any attempts mostly subsiding or stopping altogether within the last 250 years. Yet..
The sounds of crinkling paper filled the otherwise pleasantly quiet private library that the young female used as her main study, her masterly precise levitation field shifted the exhausted page of her's vast collection newest addiction- Dichotomy: Theory and Practical application. The current chapter proved itself most curious indeed.
Eyup. Yes. For Sure. Such Fun.. most distracting fun.
Yet, she'd better focus on the "here and now", more deep pondering of what she already read could come later. Now, her top priority was to listen to the rest of her assistant talk while managing to read the rest of the book. There is no time to lose and certainly not enough of it to do only a single one of those things.
“..To abridge the entirety of the message I would not only appreciate, but also wish for you my dear, the brightest student I've ever had the pleasure of teaching, to be the leading party/force of this ongoing expedition.” That seemed to send a brief jolt through the body of the almost periwinkle colored mare, the intricate golden ornaments of her fine robe clinking along with her movement. Not noticing or just ignoring the faint gesture, her small assistant continued with the final words of the letter. “But as with all things, we shall discuss more as we meet. With all sincerity, your mentor, Regent of the Divine Star, Diarch Celestia,” The little purplish reptile read word for word, his fins coiling in confusion upon reading the words. “Does she always have to be so formal?” He added his own thoughts.
“Not in the private letters, no, but you don't get to read those.” The pointed ears twitched from between her multi-stripped hair in order to adsorb all noises produced by the mouth of the adolescent secretary. “Why am I even addressing that... an expedition, can you imagine Spike?” The mare started buzzing with excitement in a complete contrast to her stoic reading, now forgotten with a finality of a book cover slamming against a mahogany lectern. She turned to one of her few friends with a.. sincere.. smile of pure joy, her dark eyes almost invisible in the scarce light provided by the many billboards situated outside the spacious shaded window taking up the majority of the north wall.
“No.” Spike voiced his none concern, the scroll he was holding folding in twain on its own as if it felt his emotions. “I can't imagine.”
“Good.” Twilight picked up, coldly, her excellently fake excitement gone in an instant. “Because we're not going.” She opened her book back in quiet resignation, ready to ensnare herself in the next chapter. “I'm going to tell her as much when we inevitably go to see her.”
“You will?” His small arms rested comfortably against his hips. “I also can't imagine it.”
“I will.”
His brow went ever higher in its journey to the heavens themselves. “Will you?”
“I will.” She closed the book once more without looking back.
“Will you?” The smirk was off the charts.
Her point of close to no return was reached in an instant as she turned around. “I WILL you DAMNED remnant of a forgotten-”
His one look was all it took. Truth be told, he was used to it over the years. It was his Celestia-given duty to reign Twilight in after all... not that she had to know that.
The guilt crushed her almost immediately.
“I'm sorry, I didn't- I Didn't mean... wasn't trying to.. Shhhhhhhhh DAMN IT.” She ended the bumble mumble of a sentence with a finality, storming out of the room straight to the apartment's spacious balcony. If by spacious you meant a few hundred square meters, and if by balcony you meant a multi flat-sized terrace.
They were unnecessarily rich if you couldn't tell.
When he entered the terrace she was already at the very edge of it, looking at the city down below. Splayed out on the only piece of furniture the long slab ever saw... the lone and sad folding chair creaked down under her weight and contained the massive brooding. Like it most often did.
“Twilight-” He started, yet she was the quicker one. She always was.
“I'm sorry.” The tears pooling in her eyes glistened with the light of the many neon adverts scattered here and there... okay everywhere around the accursed city. “Don't hate me...” She begged of him in the meekest voice of the week. “Please.”
“I would never.” He responded equally softly in kind, defusing the situation before it erupted with a force of a thousand volcanoes. Closing the distance between them in a heartbeat, he hugged her in earnest. “Never.”
And so they stayed like this, nestled in the tacky folding lawn chair she got at a dubious garage sale a year back.
Don't ask.
All in all, she got a bit calmer by the twentieth minute or so.
...
“As heartwarming as this is-”
The pair looked above and noticed a stallion robed in velvet night garments some mere few meters above them. On the ceiling. A quick glare was all it took once again.
“I think I'll go now.” Baron McFunkel voiced his honest opinion and retreated back inside his hyper luxurious abode. All the while not falling from the ceiling. Well, not ceiling per se. His own terrace. Because he was in another building with its own artificial gravity altogether.
A building located above them. Just in reverse and jutting from the ceiling of the massive dozen kilometers wide cavern the whole city was located in, its entry reminding everyone of a hungry maw full of sharpened teeth in the form of skyscrapers build everywhere, both traditionally and upside down. The sight went almost horizon to horizon wherever you looked, even thousands of meters up. Yes, even up as the cave's ceiling got higher towards the entrance.
Truly, a sight to behold and respect.
Baron McFunkel's building was the second tallest by the way.
Feel like guessing to whom the tallest one belonged? No points for that though.
“Would you feel better if I asked how does this massive building stay above us? You would go on a tangent and I would pretend to care and listen?” Spike always knew how the cheer her up.
“...Yes. Yes, I would.” Bless Spike.
“Alright. Here goes. "Hey, How does some 2,500,000 tones stay above us like that?"”
“I'm very glad you asked...”
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“And don't come back!” The angry retort carried into the night as a filthy stallion ricocheted against the pavement when he was thrown out of the high-class establishment, his body sliding at least a few meters in the muck collected in front of the suburb bar. “At least this week. Seriously, Wonder.. lay it off dude!”
The stallion recently named Wonder lifted his head out of the guck that he hoped was trash and muck mixed up.
“Fuck ya'll! Both of youse!” He shouted back at the singular bouncer in a clearly fake accent. “I'll be back! Like.. like... like herpes!” Quick. What was positive about herpes? Uhhhhhh. “Quick that is! I'll be back faster than you can blink!”
“He meant what he said, buddy.” Oh, now it actually WAS two of them. “I swear, it's like you want to end up like one of them Scorched dudes.”
“Dan't-wait- Don't lob me in with them!” The maroon pegasus tried to stretch his wings. To no avail. Muck, you see. “I ain't them!”
The cold stare was all that met him.
“Well. You're on a good track then.” The first bouncer sarcastically threw a little paper bundle toward him. What the..?
It was a twenty.
“..buy yourself a motel for the night. Wouldn't want the missus seeing you like that.” The pompous, job-having, conceited--- the much bigger than him stallion said with a hint of remorse.
...
Vitriol it is.
“...Fuck you.”
======================================================================================================
Those window.. couches.. benches.. this furniture was quite comfortable. Twilight wondered who was responsible for them lining the inside of her windows. Some carpenter? A designer before the tower was gifted to her? Was it a present from a noble? Damn if she knew... Spike?
“It's done. Eat up!”
No.. not Spike. Though probable.
“Huh?” Twilight asked, thrown out of her musings. She was about to question further, but the matter solved itself on its own.
Spike. He made her eggs. Crunchy, just like she liked them.
They didn't have chefs for close to some seven years now... She chased them off.
Without a word, she thanked him with a nod and dived into the plate with gusto and all the grace of a thirteen-year-old.
“Ugh!” Spike voiced his displeasure loudly. “Do you have to always eat so.. messy? It's not-”
“We'll go see her.” She stopped him in his tracks. “We'll go as soon as I'm done eating, okay?”
With her going back into her meal and him not answering, a few minutes passed by them in relative silence broken down only by the occasional sounds of eating.
“That was.. quite abrupt.” Spike voiced his thought most simply after a while.
“Oh please,” Twilight said between one spoonful and the other. “Like you weren't about to ask me.”
For a second it seemed like he wanted to say something else but Spike settled on staying relevant. “Now, I didn't say that.” He lifted his claws in defense, only to shift them onto his hips in a questioning manner. “Though I wonder... how long it would take for you to come around on your own?”
“...Not a second longer than I needed to Spike,” Twilight admitted with sudden morbid seriousness, hare gaze steadily shifting toward the big pane of glass. The window allowed her to glance outside at the building they were both indirectly summoned and sentenced to. Clad within a mix of golden and silvery mirror-like windows, the behemoth towered above all other buildings by a longshot, at least twice as high as the number two.
...Okay, more like three-ish times.
The hub of power and opulence bustled with movement, its many landing pads and trade levels busy all hours of day and night. Beings from all trots of life went and gone, be it lowly farmer on a petition quest or a vice-minister serving yet another all-nighter, a shrew merchant selling his tens of millions worth of corn or a sleazy dealer slipping under the radar of the authorities and distributing his.. dubious wares.
It was another city within itself.
New Canterlot Cast-- The Spire. People called it The Spire. Twilight just called it both the best and worst thing that has ever happened to her.
It was a good thing Celestia wasn't evil... she wasn't.
Harsh, certainly. A politician through and through... but not evil. She was just a pony after all. One with immense power over the heavens themselves. One who pardoned heavy criminals and sentenced minor offenders to death sometimes. One who acted like a lovely mother one day, lulling you to sleep or making you herbal tea when you're sick and then-..
“...Not a second longer than I needed to...”
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