When Lyra woke up again, it was already near noon. As soon as she opened her eyes, she saw Grey Wind and Nightjar fumbling over the kitchen counter.
“Make sure it is closed,” Grey Wind was saying, “don’t leave a single fringe, or some signals might pass by.”
“The glass…is their only weakness?” Nightjar asked, “but how? It’s like binding a full-grown dragon with a single rope!”
“It’s a built-in defect,” Grey Wind answered with a sigh, “I’ll explain later once Lyra wakes up.”
“Ow…” Lyra moaned, signifying that she was already conscious, “Grey, what was that for…”
“Ah, Lyra…” Grey Wind went up to her, carrying what was the closest resemblance of an apologetic smile, “I advise you to stay down for at least another half an hour. Sorry about that bash. Warmhoof ran out of sedatives, so I had to…”
“Sedatives…?” Lyra’s eyes fluttered wide, “…what…what did you do to me?”
She tried to sit up straight, then was horrified to find that she could no longer feel her hooves.
“My—my hooves—”
“Easy, easy,” Grey Wind’s voice was gentle enough to be creepy, “paralysis of limbs is an expected side-effect. Should recover in a minute or so. That’s what happens when an organic creature’s central nervous system is tempered with…”
“CENTRAL NERVOUS SYSTEM?!”
“Grey,” Nightjar whispered, “you are scaring her.”
Grey Wind looked back at her, then at Lyra. She studied her expressions and sighed heavily.
“I still need to practice…anyway. Lyra,” she turned around and took a jar from Nightjar’s lap, raising it in front of Lyra’s eyes with her wing. Within it was a tiny lump of grey ashes embedded with points of scarlet. There was an ill stench that smelt like dead fish.
“This…is what has been messing with your dreams,” she announced.
“Xe—xeomorphs?”
“I made that name up,” Grey Wind said straightly, “they are called nanomachines. At least that’s what my creators called it.”
Lyra found herself too scared and startled to fathom a word. Grey Wind folded her wings backward. The wounds on her chest and head were all gone.
“That day when they dug through your belly by the lake…a batch of them was left in there,” Grey Wind said, “they incorporated themselves into your metabolism and replaced a part of your brain by mimicking neuron cells. They’ve been sending false actions pulses every time you fell asleep…so that you would see what they want you to see in your dreams.”
“They’ve been…within my body…the whole time?!” Lyra screamed.
“No longer,” Grey Wind threw a disgusted glance at the jar of nanomachines on the table, “I have taken them out and fixed all your missing brain tissues. They are harmless now.”
“So…when they said they could fry every single one of my neurons…”
“They meant it,” Grey Wind scratched the base of her wings, “it was strange they haven’t done so already. Maybe they were afraid that I would find out anyway.”
There was a sudden sting on the back of her head. Lyra rolled around and almost fell straight onto the floor when she saw a small grey cloud flying off her mane and rising into the air. She really flopped down when they went over to Grey Wind and rested beneath her wings.
That’s no behavior of Luna’s puppet. The puppet should be hunting those monsters, not controlling them.
“They were sewing your surgical opening,” Gray Wind looked away, “I told them to be gentle. It won’t hurt again in the future, I promise.”
“Grey Wind…” with shaky hooves, Lyra supported herself up, voice trembling. This mare standing in front of her had never felt so familiar yet so strange, “what—what exactly are you…?”
Grey Wind sighed again.
“I made breakfast,” she said, “let’s talk after we eat.”
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After a surprisingly tasty breakfast of raspberry pie, Lyra and Nightjar sat down at the table in the center of the library, watching as two fluffs of grey cloud gently carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen sink. The green stripe on Grey Wind’s mane glowed as the clouds shrank back into the backside of her tail, and then she quickly sat down across from them.
“It will be better if I directly show you. Lean closer.”
They did as they were told. Grey Wind spread her wings and reached them forward, pressing their tips on their foreheads. Lyra felt a tickle where her feathers made contact. It felt like a minor electric shock.
“Hold on. I’m connecting to your sensory nerves.” She heard Grey Wind say.
Nightjar made a startled squeak. The world around them was dissolving, the furniture of the library fading into a thin black veil. Their hooves left the ground as it fell apart beneath them, and soon they were both floating freely in complete darkness.
“Got it!” Grey Wind’s voice seemed to be echoing from everywhere, “my database is linked with your memory. I can recreate scenes and events from my database and make you experience it.”
“Just like how the xeo—nanomachines created my nightmares?” Lyra asked, shuddering.
“Correct,” Grey Wind fell silent for a moment, “now…I think we should start from the beginning.”
Colors were condensing all around them. A bright flash shone in the center of the space, forcing them to close their eyes. When their sights recovered, they were already standing in a gigantic room.
Lyra involuntarily took a step back. She was familiar with the room’s set-up: neatly arranged rows of workbenches and desks, metal rods with arcs of electricity dancing between them, screens taking up nearly every corner of the metallic walls, with so much information rolling through them that it was impossible to tell them apart—it was not unlike the magical lab in Celestia’s school, despite that everything was huge. The desk directly in front of her was almost as tall as herself. As if realizing this, a smooth puff of air latched onto the bottom of her hooves and lifted her up. Nightjar let out a soundless scream.
There was an entire crowd swarming around a large round table in the center. Lyra had never seen any creatures like this: they were almost as tall as two ponies standing atop of each other, with long, scaly tails dragged behind them on the floor. Most of them were showing their backs to Lyra, forbidding her from seeing their faces, but she could tell from the hollows of their lab coats that each of them had four distinct arms.
“My creators,” Grey Wind said, “they called themselves Xa’natars. In their ancient language, it means ‘wise men’.
“Where—where are me?” Nightjar’s voice was trembling.
“Central Lab, Science District, Monolith City, Surface of Main Haven,” Grey Wind said, then paused for a while, “…approximately a hundred and seventy thousand light-years away from your world.”
“Light-years?” Nightjar asked.
“That means it will take a hundred and seventy thousand years for the light from Equestria to reach this place,” Lyra mentally calculated. Her horn swayed uncomfortably, “…that is…the other side of the galaxy…”
“Then—”
“Right,” Lyra said. She tugged at Nightjar’s wing, squeezing one of her front claws, “we are looking at a bunch of aliens.”
Ponies are truly not alone in the Universe…She was surprised at how calmly she was taking all of these in. Shouldn’t I be startled? Dumbfounded? Running off screaming like a filly?
A round of excited snickers arose from the crowd. The table was pulled closer, allowing Lyra to see what was above it: a large box-shaped container made entirely of glass. At first, Lyra thought the box was empty, but as she looked closer, she found that a single tiny grey dot was floating in the container’s center. She heard a painfully familiar high-pitched humming. The rolling words on the monitor screens had stopped, all of them displaying the same single line. Lyra did not know the language.
“Let me translate it for you,” Grey Wind said. The words shifted until they settled into a line of neat, simple Equish:
Project Name: Nah-Di-Shar, “The Gray Tempest”
“This…is where the whole thing began,” Grey Wind’s voice was nearly inaudible, “what you saw is a string, a millimeter in length and a nanometer in width, formed by precisely a million machine subunits. They are controlled by a highly-advanced artificial intelligence, capable of receiving, processing, and enhancing the orders received through an intricate algorithm that defines its priorities of action.” Another pause, “…basically, it will evaluate its goals and the current situation to find the best actions that should be taken.”
“So it’s like the golem guardians of Canterlot Castle,” Lyra said, “they do whatever the Princess tells them.”
“That’s not right!” Nightjar exclaimed, “golems are stupid! They’ll follow your orders even if you tell them to go mop the grass of the courtyard!” she looked to the nanomachines in the container, “if it was really as you said, that these…things they created would always look for the best options, then that means they could think! They could decide what was best for them! Golems can’t think!”
“You are smart, Nightjar,” this time Grey Wind’s voice came from the left. The grey pegasus had suddenly appeared beside them, gazing towards the excited scientists, “an artificial mind that does not differ from one of a sentient creature…it was their greatest success…and their only mistake.”
Another flash, and the laboratory disappeared. This time, Lyra and Nightjar found themselves floating above a great city. There were countless skyscrapers scattering here and there. It reminded Lyra of that one time when she and Bon-Bon spent their yearly holiday in Baltimare, only that this city was at least a hundred times bigger. At a distance, Lyra could see flickers of grey—clouds of nanomachines were traversing the maze of buildings, hovering around them like long grey snakes.
“The flexibility of nanomachines allowed it to become one of the most significant technology advancements of the entire galaxy,” Grey Wind spread her wings, flying to their front. Sunlight was pouring down onto her wings, dying them golden, “one of us might not be as significant as dust, but in great numbers, we could be anything,” she turned to them, her eyes glittering, “architects, farmers, warriors…together, we were invincible.”
“But it could not’ve lasted long,” Lyra interjected. She was having the faintest guess of what was going to happen next. If one had bothered to check the history of Equestria, how the ponies escaped the slavery of the beasts of Tartarus, then he would know one thing—a free mind can never be controlled.
Grey Wind’s smile vanished.
“We knew our creators were suspecting our loyalty. Look above you—” Lyra raised her head. She could see sunlight, only that the beams were distorted, spreading out into circles of rainbows. It was the result of superposed thin-film interference. There was a layer of glass between the city and the sky, “glass was designed to be our only weakness. Its molecular structure forbids the entry of our electromagnetic signals. They had always been holding back against us.”
Grey Wind flew to them, meeting their eyes.
“We just never expected it to be so fast. Listen to this.”
An old voice rose around them. It was not in Equish, but somehow she could understand every single word:
“Commander, are the fleets ready?”
“All of them.”
“And the purging troops?”
“In position. They are waiting for the commence order.”
“Good. We attack in one solar cycle.”
“…Sir? Are we really sure about this?”
“When a tool has no more use, commander, we need to destroy it before it becomes a threat.”
“But all those efforts—”
“Had led to the creation of a monster. To your post, commander.”
“This audio file was recovered from the Archon’s office,” Grey Wind was trying her best to sound calm, “he was a wise leader. He realized what his predecessor could not: the Gray Tempest was impossible to contain. Sooner or later it will realize its slavery and turn all its strength against its master,” her wings shuffled, “too bad they never discovered the nanomachine subunits hiding in the office.”
“You heard all of it!” Nightjar covered her beak.
“It was no longer about receiving orders anymore,” Grey Wind said grimly, “my creators programmed our priorities by mimicking the behavior of organic creatures. Survival has always been our first priority, but now…our creator wanted us to violate that.”
Another flash. The city disappeared, and they were now floating in a familiar black space. Lyra gasped when she saw the six green stars drawing out an arc and flying past them. She jerked around, and the green-and-blue planet rammed abruptly into view. It was exactly like what she had seen in those nightmares.
“What the—”
“My kins must’ve been desperate to break your sanity. They made you see the most gruesome part of the rebellion. The fall of Main Haven.”
The light spots rammed into the surface of the planet, disappearing behind the clouds. Immediately, dots of grey appeared in the center of a continent. It rapidly enlarged, and the entire land was dyed grey in a matter of seconds.
“These are all…nanomachines?” Nightjar squawked.
“My creators were naïve. They thought that ridiculous glass dome could protect them,” Grey Wind laughed bitterly, “nanomachine was already a part of their daily lives. How could they expect to not have us within their cities?”
“We consumed them. Every last one of them. It was an act of self-defense. All the calculations pointed to one result: we won’t survive unless we attack first.”
“But they did accomplish one thing—” the vision pulled away back into space, stopping at a point very far from the surface of the planet. A round gate-shaped platform with many carvings upon it was floating in the void, “—the L-gates. The world my creators resided in were far from the rest of the galaxy. They managed to seal the only way out just before they were driven into extinction by the Tempest.”
“And that, according to my calculations…was the best they ever did.”
“They trapped you,” Lyra said, “as well as their only way to escape.”
“When their destruction was inevitable, they made the most reasonable choice,” Grey Wind answered remorsefully, “by that time, the algorithms of the Gray Tempest returned a horrible conclusion: all sentient beings were threats to our existence. If the other civilizations learned about the demise of our creator, we would become the common enemy of the entire galaxy.”
“There was only one option left for us,” she shifted her head away, “We need to consume all that could threaten us. We would raise arms against all life. We were to destroy all the sentient beings of this galaxy.”
There was a long, dreadful silence.
“But it was not right!” Grey Wind exclaimed, “War should not have been our only option…we could have done anything! We could even form an entire civilization! We have already acquired our revenge from our creators! Waging this war on the rest of the galaxy was unreasonable! Unfair!”
“Grey…you are that artificial intelligence, aren’t you?” Lyra asked, though already knowing the answer. But to her surprise, Grey Wind shook her head.
“I am not entirely sure,” she said, “I have always been a part of the mastermind, but then one day I just started…thinking differently from the rest of us.”
She looked down towards Main Haven. All the continents were now grey. The nanomachines were even leaking into the blue oceans through the vine-like net of rivers.
“We were confined in that cluster for ten Centuries…” Grey Wind swung her head towards the thousands of stars shining in the background of the Universe, “for ten Centuries I gazed upon these stars…wondering what could possibly be out there…I know I would probably be destroyed even if I was to break this prison…but I still wanted to see…”
“And then one day that gate opened,” as she said this, an enormous green spark exploded around the portal, “I didn’t know how. I didn’t know why. Maybe someone had unintentionally powered it up on the other side. But I did know it was my chance.”
The spark soon died down. It appeared as if nothing had changed at first.
“Play again. One-fourth of speed.” Grey Wind spoke.
The scene winded back a few seconds, then started to play in slow motion. Lyra saw it this time: as soon as the green light went off, a lump of grey goo ejected from the surface of the planet and plunged itself into the portal. There was another flash in the space around them, and they were transported to a point above another green-and-blue planet. Lyra immediately recognized the shape of the continents.
Equestria.
“I arrived at the outer space just above your planet,” Grey Wind said, her wings drooping down, “the gate should have brought me to the other end of the portal on the surface. Maybe it was malfunctioning. I mimicked the body of the creature that, by my calculations, is most likely to be accepted into your society, but a tiny bit of the Gray Tempest managed to follow me out. I was ambushed when I was trying to enter the atmosphere, and…you know the rest.”
The vision collapsed, and they were back in the living room of the Cosmetic Balcony. Grey Wind retracted her wings, holding them tightly against her body.
“This is…my story. The tale of the Gray Tempest,” she said, “when I saw this world for the first time, I expected to find a residence in a place far from your civilization, so I could keep monitoring the Gray Tempest while…” she scratched her head, “…feeling surrounded by ponies, I guess. As an artificial mind, I was not designed to have feelings, but I have to admit…that you two had made the last few days the happiest time in my entire existence.”
She looked up, covering her eyes with a hoof.
“I…deemed that you deserve to know the truth. I know this may be impossible to understand considering this world’s tech levels…” she chuckled, “at least you are aware now that I am the same kind of monster as those ‘Xeomorphs’. If you no longer want me to be around, I will leave as soon as possi--”
She never got to finish that sentence, because Nightjar had spread her wing across the table and swooped her into a hug.
“What do you think, silly pony? After all that we have been through?” she muttered, “I’m so, so sorry, Grey. No pony deserves to be alone for a thousand years. No pony.”
“You should not come to a conclusion this easily…” Grey Wind was trying to push Nightjar away. She was clearly not familiar with this kind of affection, “I was designed to be the enemy of all living creatures from the very beginning…”
“Yeah, but you did save my life, so I think you are different from them,” Lyra said. She leaned over Nightjar’s wing and smacked Grey Wind’s shoulder, “don’t you EVER think about leaving. I’m not leaving behind a friend anymore.”
Grey Wind went stiff for a moment, then smiled. She released her grasp, allowing Nightjar to pull her into her front claws, leaning against her chest feathers.
“So…warm. I have never…Thank you.”
“Alright, sappy queens,” Lyra laughed. She was so hardly preventing herself from jumping over and joining them. Making friends with Grey Wind was not a part of the original plan. It was the best twist ever, “oh right, I suddenly remembered. Grey, there’s a favor I’d like to ask from you.”
“Of course!” Grey Wind jumped off the stool, spreading her wings to full width, “give me orders! I can do anything! Take the form of anything—”
“Friends don’t give each other orders. You still have a lot to learn about us, Grey,” Lyra said, “and it was not that complex. I just need you to have a look at something.”
She cast a levitation spell, lifting her saddlebag from across the room. She took out her mother’s box and put it on the table.
“Do you recognize this?”
“This—” Grey Wind’s eyes went wide as soon as she saw the patterns on the box’s lid. She grabbed it into her front hooves and lifted it to eye level. Her mane started to glow, and her irises enlarged and shrank like the shutter of a camera, “where…where did you get this?”
“It was left by my mother,” Lyra answered, “she…went missing when I was a foal. That’s why I came to this town. I thought she might have left a lead for me here.”
“No wonder…” Grey Wind replied after a short silence, “it’s all making sense now.”
“What’s making sense?” asked Nightjar.
“When I first arrived at this planet, a lot of stuff seemed out of place—” Grey Wind said as she shifted the box between her hooves, observing it, “my database classified this world as uncharted, meaning that my creators had never discovered it, yet it somehow contained a portal that leads to Main Haven. There was even knowledge about Equestria in the database,” she glanced at Lyra, “knowledge about a world whose existence was supposed to be unknown.”
“Maybe your creators wanted to hide the portal? It wouldn’t be too good if somepony discovers it on our end, would it?” Lyra suggested.
“They have a million better ways. You won’t find it even when you know the portal’s existence,” Grey Wind replied, “and that wasn’t even strange. When I was in outer space, I received an interstellar transmission signal sent from this world. One that was sent…by my kins.”
“Wait, you are saying the Gray Tempest was already on Equestria before you arrived?” Nightjar winced. Lyra shared a glance with her. They both thought of the puppet’s story.
“I was only suspecting it before, but now I have proof,” she put the box back onto the table, pointing at its lid, “this pattern is the sigil of the Gray Tempest. My database contains no information about it, but I do know its origination must be my creators. My kins had definitely made a landing on this planet some time ago.”
“Wasn’t your—um—database supposed to have a record about this?” Lyra asked.
“I don’t know. The records must have been deleted,” Grey Wind shook her head, “Princess Luna knew more about it, but she didn’t want to tell me.”
“You met Princess Luna?”
“Yes,” Grey Wind smiled, “she gave me the…necessary encouragement.” She turned to Lyra, returning the box to her, “Lyra, I understand that you are anxious for answers, while I am afraid I don’t have any for you right now. But…I do have a plan in mind.”
A small cluster of nanomachines detached from her wings and hovered above the table. Beams of green light were cast on the wooden surface, constructing transparent images of an endless line of trees. A single red dot was floating amidst them, traversing the trees like a tiny firefly.
“I have detected the source of that signal transmission. It seems like there’s a facility built by my creators hidden somewhere in the forest outside the town. As we talk, my subunits are scanning the area for its exact location. Once we are there, I can access the mainframe of my creators’ information center and run a tracing program on that box. By tracking its energy signature, I can retrieve all the information about it—” she generated a half-hearted smirk, “—including the whereabouts of its former owner.”
“But can’t you open it now?” Lyra asked.
“Afraid not,” Grey Wind directed a string of nanomachines into the box’s keyhole. Instantly, an emerald barrier formed around it, forcing the nanomachines out of their paths, “this box is subjected to an energy lock. It’s a special method of encryption used by my creators,” she thought for a second, “in your terms, this barrier is drawing magic from a specific distant source. It will open only that source has been completely depleted.”
“But last time it was drawing energy from the Gray Tempest!” Lyra said, “I felt it back at the treehouse!”
“Impossible,” Grey Wind replied, “the reserve is too large. No barrier can withstand that energy. Maybe you were too close to the Tempest at that time, so you mistook it for the other end of the energy connection.”
“Oh…” But the other end WAS on those nanomachines…otherwise it would be my magic malfunctioning…Lyra rubbed her horn.
“…All in all, everything will become clear once I locate that facility,” Grey Wind concluded, “two days at most, then we can go there and figure out things together. In the meantime…I’d like to offer you two some gifts.”
Nightjar wanted to say something, but Grey Wind had stuck a hoof into her beak.
“Please do not refuse,” she said pleasantly, “I am unlike you. This is my only way of expressing gratitude. And believe me, you’ll want it.”
“Lyra’s gift has already been delivered—when I removed those nanomachines from your brain, I did some…tinkering to your body,” Lyra instantly jumped back, making a loud noise as she bumped into a bookcase and knocked off an unlit candle stand. Grey Wind laughed, “relax. I only did some modifications to the cell structures of your magic storage organ and your horn. You have a much larger and more efficient magic supply now,” she scratched her head, “actually, I wanted to make you into an alicorn at first, but it didn’t work. Your body seemed to be…rejecting the wings I was trying to add.”
“It’s—it’s not simple as that!” Lyra exclaimed, trying to use a loud voice to cover her fright, “you cannot become an alicorn just by adding wings! You have to earn them by—urg, saving the world or something!”
“Fascinating. I shall look into it later,” Grey Wind grinned and turned to Nightjar, tapping her shoulder, “now, Nightjar, my database didn’t contain much information about griffons, but there is one thing I can give you. Please, close your eyes. Don’t open them until I tell you.”
“Is…is it going to hurt?” Nightjar cringed.
“It’s just going to tickle a bit,” Grey Wind promised.
Nightjar hesitated for a moment.
“…Alright, Grey, I trust you,” she finally said, closing her eyes, “…do it.”
Grey Wind nodded, then, right in front of Lyra’s eyes, her body fell apart. The solid form of the female pegasus dissolved into a massive cloud of grey nanomachines. They flew up and circled around Nightjar, enveloping her from head to tail like a giant black cocoon. A gentle hum occurred throughout the Library, and Lyra could swear she heard the unmistakable snap of joining bones. After a few minutes, the cocoon cracked as trails of nanomachines gathered back at where Grey Wind once stood, reconstructing into the pegasus’ form. Lyra’s eyes gaped.
“Sweet Celestia…”
“It’s done,” Grey Wind said with a proud laughter, “you can open your eyes now, Nightjar.”
Nightjar’s violet eyes flickered. The first emotion they displayed was confusion. Her talons twitched, and that confusion melted into a waterfall of shock and a gasp loud enough to blow open the ceiling.
The right side of her body, where there was once only an ugly, featherless stub, was now a pristine wing. The feathers were straight as swords, black as a midnight sky. Nightjar unfurled her wings, staring at them as if they didn’t belong to her. She then closed her eyes and forcefully shook her head, Her lips trembled.
“No…no, I’m dreaming…”
“All the winged spirits would yearn towards the sky…” Grey Wind said, beaming, “Nightjar, that wing was made up of my subunits. I have ordered them to perfectly imitate your own body tissue so that they are no longer under my control and would grow along with your age.” She spread her own wings, “losing the sky has been your greatest pain…and that sky is my gift for you.”
Nightjar opened her mouth and made no sound. She blinked and suddenly hopped forward, pushing Lyra to the side while bursting out of the Library’s door. Lyra followed her out and just managed to see her jumping off into the sky. She was clearly not used to having two wings at first, and she kept swaying to the left and right while she flew. There were a couple of times she nearly crashed on the nearby ceilings and balconies. But in the end, she managed to regain balance, hovering circles above the Cosmetic Balcony. Even on the ground, Lyra could hear her excited screams:
“Oh my gosh, I’m flying!!!” Lyra suspected that she must’ve cried, “Lyra, do you see this? I’m flying! I’M REALLY FLYING!!!”
Grey Wind walked up to Lyra in light steps.
“Among my creators, there is a fairytale they used to tell their young,” she said, “once there was a bird who was born without wings. She could not fly like all of her peers and friends. She was mocked, laughed at, so she prayed every night for gods to grant her a pair of wings,” she looked up to Nightjar with a gleam as wide as her ears, “it was the stars that answered her. The universe granted her a pair of wings forged by its stars. She could still not fly during the day, but during the night she will always show up in the night sky, using her wings of stars to bring hope to all those in despair—”
Nightjar made a sharp turn and dived down like a falcon, pressing Grey Wind to the ground and wrapping all her wings and claws around her.
“Oh, Thank you thank you thank you thank you…!”
Watching her laughing friends, Lyra closed her eyes. She could feel a current of magic coursing through her blood vessels. It was strong, possibly strong enough to match Twilight Sparkle herself, but it was also warm as a morning sun. It was Grey Wind’s gift for her.
You are that star for us, Grey Wind, she thought, smiling.