//------------------------------// // Chapter Sixty Five: Intermission, Part 2 // Story: We don't go to Sub-Level Five // by RadBunny //------------------------------// Twilight tapped a hoof impatiently on the crystal desk. There had been a disturbing lack of communications from either Sassi or Astral. The suit he had equipped should have been able to connect by now, but the reactor’s overload had thrown things into chaos with the Silo systems. The teleportation of the Skitter Queen had confirmed that Astral had gotten that far at least. But then there was nothing. Over twelve hours of silence after the detonation of the Silo Two reactor, and execution of Split Tie. Twilight had found her own emotions boiling at seeing the exchange. Astral had been clearly been pushed beyond what any normal pony could be expected to endure. Even as the ‘less-scary’ princess, as thus deemed by the Press more often than not, Twilight had to suppress a rather intense desire to immediately de-horn the two Owners they had in custody. She was still actively considering it. If such a malicious spell was indeed entwined with magical signatures… She let out a snort. Their time would come, and there were only a few known individuals unaccounted for. They would answer for their crimes. Until then, her job, and her duty was to get the remaining ponies home. And apparently, respond to freaky spider monsters escaping. That had been an unpleasant reminder that the horrors of the Silos were literally beneath their hooves. Vial and the others had immediately volunteered to join the effort and the Control Center had put them to work. The stallion had no additional information to offer for other Company sites; the transportation of the Queen and the reactor detonator had caught him completely off guard. Nonetheless, his team’s knowledge of company systems was already aiding the decoding process of some of the more cryptic documents. The footage retrieved had immediately been sent to the appropriate departments to be sanitized, with multiple portions intending to be released to the public. To that end, more episodes of Sassi and Astral’s journey had been released the day before. Now with spliced together footage from the evacuation courtesy of Vial’s efforts to remove the shields temporarily, there were bits and pieces of Astral making his way through the facility, and then the two of them fighting the Skitters side by side. It was heavily edited, jumping days or more at a time, but the message was clear enough. The more recent footage from Astral’s helmet cam was being processed, at least before it had cut out as he had descended deeper into the Silo. There was a clear villain, and now the Public had footage of their heroes. The citizens of multiple nations were still frothing for justice, and the Stairway company was being hunted by governments and private entities alike. It wasn’t a perfect solution, far from it. But considering how the crimes of the Company had evaded the detection of multiple nations, Twilight saw it as an acceptable risk. She could only try to reduce the risk of innocent individuals being caught up in the company’s dragnet. That was why each airing made it clear that most employees were unaware of the atrocities. There was also the encouragement for all former employees to offer whatever information they could. There was additional reasoning for that statement. With the public scrutinizing anyone having ties to the company, there was an unspoken pressure. Of course, everyone involved in the case knew that anyone underground in the facilities had a fairly good idea of what was involved. But it gave low-level employees deniability and a way to prove to all creatures they were doing the right thing. And that pressure and sentiment had already proven to be worth it, multiple creatures turning themselves in and wanting to provide any and all information on the Stairway company. Even innocuous facts such as the locations of various cabin get-aways could prove useful. One such cabin had already led to a small underground complex. The Company’s reach was far indeed. But there were still two Thestrals unaccounted for. Hopefully alive, but the facts weren’t promising. All Twilight had was Vial’s account. The modification of Astral, and then the Thestral charging into the depths of the silo to rescue Sassi. For all they knew, the two could be dead. Silo Two had gone up in a rather fantastic burst of fire, radiation, and magical detonations that had barely been contained by above-ground shields. If they had gotten to the utility tram in time, maybe… Vial hadn’t minced words when Twilight had asked him about the chances of Astral surviving his accelerated modifications, even assuming the two had escaped the blast. The stallion hadn’t met her gaze as he spoke. If they were unable to get him to a medical bay, somewhere with healing spells, Astral wouldn’t last long. Even with spells, the chances were not in his favor. Possible, but there were so many factors to consider. That was why Twilight was holding off on telling Astral’s parents. The last thing she wanted to do was give them a false sense of hope. And then there was Silo Three, something that both Vial and Flask couldn’t elaborate on. It was a black hole of information. The only confirmed facts were that it was self-sufficient, old, and had the Company’s genetic splicing stations along with prisoners. The Silo was utterly unknown even to long-time employees of the company under interrogation. Even for a company with compartmentalized resources, Twilight found it odd and considering what they were dealing with, rather unnerving. The adept alicorn had detected the residual traces of a memory wipe spell on some of the individuals, so that would explain the complete lack of information, at least for now. Even the two company owners in custody didn’t know anything about it. Silos and the organization were intentionally parsed out to specific individuals. The thoughts were quickly compartmentalized. It was all conjecture at this point. Twilight had more pressing matters to attend to. As wrapped up as they were with the journey of these two Thestrals, there was a national security matter that loomed. The incredible buildup of Gryphon armed forces was screaming across multiple media outlets. They had mobilized to an extent that either suggested an invasion or an internal conflict. Twilight hadn’t even known the Empire had that many battleships ready to fly! Yet all her sources indicated they were massing around certain areas; one of which was a confirmed Silo location. Messages to the current Emperor had gone unanswered, and that worried the Princess more than anything. The lack of information clawed at her consciousness. Emperor Tanzil Ironclaw was, in Twilight’s opinion, one of the more impressive and genuine rulers she had ever met. For the tactful leader to ignore a message was extremely out of character. And that wasn’t accounting for six months of being too busy for their usual monthly, or bi-weekly chats. Out of character indeed, especially since Twilight was fairly certain the gryphon was rather fond of her. Twilight’s own feelings were a bit complicated in that matter during normal times, let alone a national crisis. ‘Complicated’ in the sense that the handsome gryphon had asked her to dance two years ago during a formal ball, and Twilight had said yes. She hadn’t regretted it in the slightest and quickly realized the Emperor could dance rather well. Surprisingly well. That thought earned a slight smile. A decade or two ago, she would have blown off such things before it had reached that point. But seeing Tanzil rule for over nearly thirty years had softened the Princess’s view, and the gryphon had become a very close friend. She had been hopeful at first, his various outreach efforts, treaties, and joint nation-building exercises had been nothing short of exciting. That excitement had turned to surprise and then a genuine respect as Tanzil had pulled the Gryphon Empire kicking and screaming into the modern era. There were many rumors surrounding the new emperor, and the fact he hadn’t appeared to age a day in the thirty years of rule certainly gave credence to a few of them. But he was nothing short of a just, fair, and genuinely compassionate gryphon. Twilight had to be careful of who crossed over from political to close friends, yet Tanzil hadn’t done anything that would make her rethink such a designation. They tried to send summaries, or at least have a brief call every month or two. He offered a perspective Twilight could appreciate, the same reason she spoke with Chrysalis every month. Well, part of that was to make sure the Changeling Queen didn’t get too bored and start playing truth or dare with Discord again. It had only been Fluttershy’s intervention that had averted a sourdough uprising in the suburbs of Canterlot again. Of course, meeting with the loosely reformed Queen didn’t provide the same excitement she felt when meeting with Tanzil. Chrysalis was a breath of fresh air (if not amusingly abrasive at times.) But the charismatic gryphon Emperor was quite different. If her feelings on the matter were as easily categorized as dance steps, the Princess would be a bit more at ease. Twilight slotted those thoughts away for a future time. The situation didn’t bode well. The Equestrians still were wary of gryphons even after centuries, and vice versa. The Empire still did have some ingrained cultural lines from the past. But what nation didn’t? Such talks with Tanzil had been enlightening, to say the least. They had spoken on and off for nearly a decade. Before that, Twilight had watched the Emperor with interest. Now he was a friendly face she looked forward to seeing, especially since they had recently accepted that honorifics (when alone) weren’t necessary. That fact had jarred Twilight’s internal pillars a bit more than she had at first realized. It had been nearly three centuries since Princess Twilight had been just ‘Twilight.’ It was freeing in a way that made the mare understand Celestia’s position a bit more, of why she enjoyed being somewhere that no creature knew who she was. She could just be ‘her’. There were only a few of her friends left who remembered the mare like that. Sure, Shining Armor and Cadence were still around, along with their ever-growing family, but that was…different. Spike and Gabby were still exploring the world, the paired size and age spell still working wonders. They visited every so often and were in contact at least every few months. Twilight’s heart had nearly broken back then, walking in on seeing Spike utterly inconsolable as the reality set in concerning his age those centuries ago. Or rather, his long life and Gabby’s lack thereof. The solution had been an obvious one, and the joy of marrying the two later had been absolutely worth the long nights of research for the equalization spell. It wasn’t full-blown immortality, but a balancing of their ages to equal out. Outside of the royal sisters, Fluttershy was the only pony who knew Twilight from long before her Ascension. It had been a unique situation, of course. Discord had been rather blunt ages ago about the matter. “I’m not about to let something trivial like time and age keep me from Fluttershy. I already beat Death in a poker game twice, and blackjack thrice. They owe me,” the God of Chaos had snorted. Clearly, the couple had talked about it extensively, because Fluttershy was quite excited. She had aged with her friends until their manes grew grey, sharing in the trials of time. But eventually, the clock had then stopped for her. It then turned backward until eventually pausing. And now more than two hundred years later, the unique pair were still as happy as they had been on their wedding day. They sometimes invited Twilight to the ever-growing now multi-nation animal shelter organization, or to Chaosville, where they were constantly exploring and creating all manner of new lands. Twilight admitted such a prospect was jealousy-inducing in more ways than one. She swallowed the lump in her throat as the train of thought ended. Yes, she still had friends, close and dear friends who actively made an effort to reach out and check in on her. She couldn’t put a price on that. But there were times there was something else that lacked. The Princess could sometimes pin it down, other times it was nebulous. The mare shook her head and turned to look back at the reports, letting out a huff. The gryphon Emperor was proving to be a problem she had to dedicate more and more brainpower to figure out, in more ways than one. At least his actions had been straightforward. Emperor Tanzil Ironclaw had done wonders for the Empire in his nearly three-decade rule. Under his direction, the Gryphon Empire had gone from lagging behind Equestria by decades to matching them in every spectrum, nearly surpassing some areas. ‘Nearly’ was the official term. The Empire most certainly had overtaken Equestria, depending on the year, for some metrics. Not that Twilight would admit it publicly, especially since one of their libraries hypothetically just surpassed her personal collection in terms of volumes stored. She had gotten that notice two years ago, and Twilight had remedied that by purchasing hundreds of books on the spot. The Empire’s response had been nothing short of hilarious, Twilight barely able to contain her laughter during the diplomatic ‘crisis’. It had been the first real clue that this gryphon actively wanted to be on a different level with Equestria than his predecessors. A friendly, actively courteous relationship. The simple message from Tanzil about the ‘crisis’ had gotten out, and Twilight had needed to clarify there was no ulterior motive. She had barely gotten through that meeting without laughing. ‘Highness. We wish to inform you that while your library is impressive, we have purchased an additional thousand copies of various books from Yak and Kirin researchers. If you wish to engage in an arms race of knowledge, I accept. -Emperor Ironclaw.’ The ‘arms race’ had ended after a few months, each kingdom’s libraries having swelled by tens of thousands of books over the time. Ultimately, the two kingdoms signed a ‘truce’ in which their libraries would be shared. That bolstered the count by even more thousands due to the copies delivered and received. That was something Twilight had learned and penned a letter to Celestia for old-time’s sake. As a ruler, you had to find fun where and when appropriate. And when one of your friends was a ruler of a nation, you had to be careful. However, there were times a bit of silliness was appropriate, especially if the outcome was a more educated population. Through that exchange, Twilight realized that the Emperor may be just that type of friend. “Please send another message to Emperor Ironclaw. I would like to speak with him immediately regarding the troop buildup at borders and internally,” Twilight instructed the nearest communications officer. “Message sent,” the unicorn relayed, then raised a hoof. “Immediate response. He says to use the crisis line, Highness.” Finally. The crisis lines were an emergency contact portal to every nation’s ruler, a way to communicate if normal channels were too slow or inefficient. Entering the small office at the rear of the Castle’s command center, Twilight sat down and triggered the communications portal. “Emperor Ironclaw,” she said, the gryphon bowing his head respectfully. “Princess Twilight. I apologize for the lack of communication,” Tanzil said smoothly. The crown on the gryphon’s head lacked the usual spikes of other rulers. Instead, it was almost a half-helmet that ran along the blue and black gryphon’s brow, dipping down under his ears as if crafted from silver vines. It contrasted nicely with his mostly dark-blue feathers, shot through with streaks of bright silver and white, and highlighted Tanzil’s amber eyes. Rarity would have approved and likely been extremely jealous of the design. “Apology accepted, Emperor, but there are quite a few things that, as you must understand, appear concerning to us. Primarily the build-up of forces at your border and internally.” There was a bit of commotion out of view of the portal, Tanzil nodding in agreement. “It must appear rather ill indeed. I assure you, Princess. Our intentions have nothing to do with Equestria. In fact, this is to protect Equestria. I wish I could say more. I apologize, I have to go.” The abruptness and rather curt tone were most unlike the gryphon Emperor, Twilight’s eyes narrowing. She had become fairly decent at reading body language, especially the unspoken communications of pony royals. A slight smile, a tossing of the mane, it was the language of those in power and privilege. What worried Twilight was that Tanzil appeared genuinely unsettled. The formal and guarded look he held when conducting negotiations (as opposed to their friendly talks) was in full force. Twilight had learned to see such masks among creatures during the decade Celestia and Luna had mentored her as they slowly ceded their formal rule. “Oh, the book I gifted you, Highness. There’s a reference to an event on page one hundred and twelve. Could you send me the names listed there at your earliest convenience?” “Of course. Take care, Emperor.” The portal then shut off, Twilight teleporting to her personal chambers. The situation had abruptly changed, it would seem. With the broadcasts of Sassi and Astral now going out, the public was incensed against the company. Other nations were rallying with Equestria to root out the various evils, but the gryphons had remained oddly subdued. Something was up. Twilight took the massive book out of the protective case, a genuine, eager smile dawning on her face. Despite growing taller and older, she was still a bookworm at heart. Running a nation had never been a goal of hers, even if the mare had grown to understand and appreciate it. Twilight still reveled in the hours, or sometimes a scheduled day or two spent secluded in her personal library to delve into books and research. She might be an ageless Princess, a ruler of a nation, but there were some things about her that had never changed. The fellow appreciation of knowledge was one of the things that had been the final step in softening her heart towards the gryphon Emperor. Tanzil had, on her birthday last year, gifted the Princess one of only two discovered copies of ‘Gryphon Runic Theory, A Continuum.’ The only other copy was in the royal archives at the Emperor’s palace. To say it was priceless was an accurate statement, and Twilight had literally bounced around the room for a few minutes after she was alone. The smile on Tanzil’s face when she had thanked him personally had made some rather alien feelings prick at her heart, at least back then. Such emotions weren’t so foreign now, but just as confusing. But now there was apparently an alternate purpose for such a gift. That soured things a bit. Turning to the respective page, Twilight immediately cast a series of shielding spells, a previously-dormant rune flashing on the volume. A communications portal? Another brief teleport and Twilight was in a secured and heavily-reinforced room of the Castle. Time to see what this was. Activating the spell, the Princess’s eyes widened on seeing a genuinely relieved gryphon looking back at her from the portal. Tanzil was clearly in a different room, and the portal crackled with impressively-advanced concealment spells. The magic present was far above what Twilight had pegged normal gryphon mages to be capable of. “Highness. I’m glad this worked,” the Emperor sighed. “I apologize for the cloak and dagger. I never wanted things to come to this.” “Come to what, Emperor? This is an extremely odd circumstance, especially given our current nation’s relations. We haven’t spoken together in six months, and I’ve begun to worry.” The gryphon sighed, running a set of claws over his head crest. “And I apologize for that, Highness. I’ve truly missed our talks. More to the point, the crisis line is tapped. Hopefully, this solves things. I want to be on the same page.” Tapped?! By who? “Currently, there is the danger of an attempted coup in the Empire. There are factions on the move. Especially over the next few weeks, things are along the edge of a knife, and I need Equestria’s help.” Twilight narrowed her eyes, knowing full well what such a request could entail. While there were reports of political unrest in the Empire, a full-blown coup was news to her. “If it’s an internal affair, I can’t commit support to any specific side. You know this.” Tanzil laughed tiredly, waving a set of claws. “Oh, you misunderstand. I seek some political and media assistance. A gesture to assure the public that Equestria is on our side. Nothing outside of that.” “What has brought this up? I thought Equestria and the Empire were on good terms?” Tanzil nodded, and it was only then that Twilight saw the dark circles around the gryphon’s eyes. Barely concealed beneath some makeup and a crude spell, but they were there. “We are, better than in any recorded history. But there are those among my rule who would use recent developments to reignite old suspicions. I shall try to be brief.” The gryphon rubbed his temples, the display of weakness lowering Twilight’s guard. Tanzil was often more open with her than other rulers, at least as far as she could observe. Seeing him genuinely distressed worried Twilight on a different level than other rulers. As a close friend, it pricked at the mare’s tender heart a bit more than many would initially expect. “On receiving the reports of the Stairway company you generously provided, we raided one of the facilities within our borders,” Tanzil explained. “We were well within our right to do so considering the reports. I am happy to say that the majority of the facility was disabled and all creatures imprisoned. However, the unfortunate fact is that many are dual citizens of Equestria and the Empire. Most of them were ponies, and all of the owners, as you know, are Unicorns,” he held up a set of talons, “and I’d be happy to discuss the prisoner situation after we resolve the current crisis.” “I understand. Do continue, Emperor,” Twilight said, the gryphon reaching over to flip through some papers. “So, you can imagine that inflamed factions within the Empire who already were wary of Equestria and had anti-pony biases. Accusations of Equestrian spies, using the company to gain military secrets, the usual fears, and suspicions. As of ten hours ago, we received an ultimatum from an undisclosed source to release two of the individuals. Apparently, two of the captive unicorns are owners of the Company. I refused, obviously. One hour later, something massacred the security detail that was overseeing another Silo location. We put it down quickly, of course. But one of the owners got away. We don’t know how, only that the transport was attacked. There were no survivors. The security detail encountered this at the Silo location, however. I think the message was clear.” Showing the photograph to Twilight, the Emperor’s gaze hardened. “You know what this is.” The unmistakable likeness of a Skitter stared back at the Princess, a hoof-sized hole blown through its chest and head. “They released it?” “We suspect so, and I don’t know if it’s the only one. We discovered a massive breach in one of the Company’s silo’s, a huge underground tunnel leading to open air. I don’t know what else got out, but I’ve mobilized the military to contain further releases. I want to make sure no such things leave our borders,” Tanzil relayed. “There’s a hunt for the other owner underway in our territory. If they’re here, we’ll find them. That leaves only one or two remaining,” he said. “What I need from you is a gesture of good faith. I will be asking if you would like us to add a significant number of gryphon units to the emergency exit locations of the facility Astral and Sassi are trapped in. If you are accepting and are comfortable with that, it will appease the more zealous naysayers. I ask because they will be some of the shock troops, rather than normal soldiers. I can spin such an effort in various ways. I do not doubt that these abruptly-vocal and zealous factions have ties to the Company, as my Empire was one of their last safe havens.” She was quiet for a moment, but Twilight finally nodded. “As long as they are equal in number to Equestria’s forces, that is acceptable.” Tanzil sighed in relief, nodding in thanks. “Thank you. The other matter is something I wish to offer you, which can be leveraged in my favor against my opponents as well.” “Oh?” “Our military satellites are in position over the facility,” Tanzil said, “we can obtain access to the Stairways network using brute-force methods. However, that would take time, of which I doubt Astral and Sassi have. If I had the magical jamming frequencies the facility uses, we could then broadcast the feeds to you once we bypass the interference. Such a sign of trust would destroy the idea that Equestria was attempting to gain or hide military secrets if you provided the information for us to use. We aren’t able to measure the frequencies at the sensitive levels your mages are capable of.” That made Twilight pause. Providing such frequencies wasn’t inherently dangerous, but it would give the Empire insight into how current spells were able to mask radio transmissions. Speaking of which, the fact that Tanzil had revealed the Gryphon Empire had multiple military satellites was news to Twilight considering the rudimentary state of their space program. The fact that Tanzil revealed their lack of ability to measure magical frequencies was another piece of sensitive information. He was being generous with disclosing sensitive topics, offering quite a bit without a promise of a return. Twilight could appreciate such efforts indeed. A similar request from other rulers would have raised her guard, but Tanzil had proven time and time again over the years that his requests were genuine. “I would not ask this unless I had to, Highness,” Tanzil admitted, “but I am running out of options.” “I think we can do that. Give me an hour or two, and I’ll send the frequencies.” The smile on the gryphon’s face made the room quite a bit brighter. “Thank you, Highness. I think that should take care of things quite nicely.” The immediate pressure relieved, Twilight decided to ask a few questions of her own. It had been a while since she had spoken to Tanzil, after all. “I am glad to hear it. However, I have to ask, Emperor, did you give me that book as just a last-resort communication measure? Any old volume would have been adequate.” To Twilight’s surprise, genuine guilt darted across the Emperor’s face. “No. The rune was a secondary thought. If not that book, then I would have dug up another gift,” he said. “The primary purpose of the gift was not to serve as a runic conduit.” She let out a hum at that, still not fully buying his words. “Well, it seems to have served its purpose regardless,” Twilight mused, then decided to delve into a few of the gryphon’s words. “What was the primary purpose then? Just a gift?” Another flash of emotion, this one rather out of place with most gryphons even after the cross-border citizenships. A genuine softness, a kindness more akin to a close friend. Twilight had the abrupt realization that she perhaps underestimated the genuine and noble intentions of the gryphon. “I have mentioned this before, Highness, but after this incident, it would seem I need to say it again publicly,” he admitted. “Unlike some other gryphons, I openly appreciate Equestria,” the Emperor said calmly, “the easygoing culture, food, and natural way in which bonds are built is a breath of fresh air amid the remnants of our way of our life that was, and still is predicated on what one creature can offer the other in terms of exploitation,” he gestured towards the book. “I actually like ponies and would like them to know that. Some…much more than others. That was the purpose of the gift.” It was barely a second, what one could dismiss as a warping by the portal. But there was a hesitation, a hitch in Tanzil’s voice when he spoke. There had been a few off moments during their talks where Twilight sensed another layer to the gryphon, and today was no different. For a split second, the Princess saw something that reminded her of Celestia and Luna. It was the barest glimpse, but the look behind Tanzil’s eyes was not like a normal creature. It was that of an individual who had seen and lived far longer than his apparent sixty years. It would have taken an hour to quantify the things Twilight saw in the unguarded gaze of the Emperor. It was the almost desperate look of a lonely creature reaching out to another the best way they could. That was something Twilight had seen in the mirror many times over the years, and not just when she was a Princess. That alone made the mare’s throat close up with emotion, many of such times having been painful indeed. But there was also genuine care and compassion. A trusting look. There was another layer that made Twilight pause further. There was a gentle affection in the gryphon’s amber eyes. That much had been present during the pause. It was hardly a veiled message, intentional or unintentional. “Well, the book is still appreciated. I’ve certainly read it a few times,” Twilight said with a kind smile. “Just a few times? I’m surprised,” Tanzil replied back with an endearing chuckle. “This year.” The Emperor let out a barely-contained snort, genuine laughter shaking his frame. “That sounds a bit more appropriate for you, Highness,” he managed to say. “It seems I’ll have to outdo myself this next year.” “I look forward to it, Emperor Ironclaw. And perhaps I’ll be the one to ask you for a dance at our next international Gala later this year.” It wasn’t a lie, far from it. Twilight was simply curious about where pursuing this line of thought would go. Testing a hypothesis with an unpredictable outcome. She was rather surprised at herself, being rather eager to see what outcomes there could be. “In that case, I certainly will make it a point to attend. I wouldn’t want to miss the chance,” he replied, a familiar smile putting Twilight at ease. Things couldn’t be that bad if the Emperor was back to his cheerful self and able to have some banter. “That is, of course, unless you’d prefer to have a dance before that time.” There were very few things that were now able to throw Twilight for a loop. Between the decade of adjusting where Luna and Celestia had continually coached the mare to rule, and then their continual help for the following decades (and even now), few situations caught the studious mare off guard. This, however, had just become one of such few moments. “Emperor Ironclaw, are you asking the ruler of Equestria on a date during a crisis?” Twilight asked with a raised eyebrow. Thankfully, she had curated quite the impressive poker face over the years. That served to mask the fact her internal monologue was screaming a dozen thoughts at a very high frequency. “I…would not use that term,” the gryphon said, clearly a bit flustered as his feathers fluffed up slightly. It was rather adorable, Twilight had to admit. “Oh? Then what term would you use?” “International relations building.” The fact the gryphon had such an immediate reply ready and delivered it with a straight face was too much for Twilight. The stress of the past few days and the company of a good friend made it so her usual inhibitions against ‘non-royal’ behavior were fairly thin. She burst out laughing, abruptly realizing that the poor gryphon on the other end of the portal probably had no idea if such laughter was directed towards him or the situation. “T-that, Tanzil, was perfect,” she gasped. The Emperor relaxed. First names were only used when the two of them were more or less conversing as equal creatures other than the heads of nations. It was a signal to both of them in conversation that nothing ‘job’ related was at stake. She collected herself and continued with a pleasant but firm smile. “But to the point, I’d like to get this crisis resolved before making any definitive plans.” The poor Emperor almost visibly deflated at that. For a gryphon, Tanzil had always been a bit more open with his emotions, even in negotiations. It brought challenges, but many appreciated the sincerity. Twilight was one of the latter. “Of course. I certainly agree.” “But I do know a place on the outskirts of Canterlot that makes both amazing smoked salmon and hayburgers,” Twilight added, silently cursing her body for directing quite a bit of heat towards her cheeks. “Assuming neither of our kingdoms has burnt down after this crisis, I think it’d be a nice place for some cursory…international relationship building. If that is convenient.” Seeing the simple joy in her friend’s eyes at the reply was enough to make Twilight smile. Unfortunately, she couldn’t exactly stop the butterflies in her stomach, but the general happy warmth she felt was a good enough answer to herself if it was a good idea. “That would be perfectly acceptable, Twilight,” Tanzil replied. Always the gentlegriff, he had let the Princess drop the honorifics first. The more brainpower Twilight dedicated to the matter, the list of ‘positive Tanzil attributes’ was growing at an exponential rate. The ‘cons’ list was rather diminutive. Not that she had thought about such things for hours on end over the past year. Or three. And she definitely didn’t have a dozen parchments about the matter. “Tanzil, in some aspects regarding gryphon culture, isn’t it customary to ask a potential suitor such things during a crisis?” Twilight mused, not wanting to be on the defensive again. The question made Tanzil chuckle, the gryphon nodding. “Well, my parents were engaged during a rather nasty battle with some Timberwolves, so I can’t refute that statement.” “Fair enough. I suppose we should get back to running our nations. I do look forward to our lunch.” “As do I, Twilight. Take care.” “You as well.” The portal snapped shut, Twilight finding herself oddly melancholy. She was even more annoyed when she realized why. She had missed such talks far more than anticipated. That didn’t help when trying to quantify and sort her feelings. Unfortunately, neither did some advice from Celestia that decided to cement itself in her consciousness. As both she and Luna had found their special somecreatures centuries ago, it made the advice hit a bit harder in the current circumstances. Ageless spells were once rarely spoken of. But now, such things were simply in the ‘rare’ category, especially for already-ageless beings (Celestia and Luna, for example.) Age lengthening spells were available to a certain pool of individuals, no longer delegated to myth and legend. Goodness, the spells for Gabby and Spike had been unsettlingly easy to craft, but that wasn’t technically agelessness, just an extreme slowdown, a matching of their life spans. Still, the fact that age was now a quantifiable and modifiable variable for spells was both exciting and rather unnerving. A decade after Celestia had married her hippogriff husband (a fellow ruler and doctor at that) she had given her once-protégé some simple advice. ‘Your rule will be long, Twilight, as long as it is needed by Equestria or that you desire.’ Celestia had told her. ‘Don’t do it alone. Find someone to be there for you when the crown comes off. And I’m not talking about simple friends. Friendship is magic, but what about more than that? Don’t let ‘I’m a Princess’ be a reason to put aside an essential part of your happiness if those feelings develop. Goodness knows you ignored it before being a Princess. Decide for yourself what you want, whatever, or whoever that may be.’ Twilight took a deep breath in, held it, and then let it out. Of the many aspects of her life, that had not been an area of focus for as long as she could remember. She was a Princess. There hadn’t been time or an appropriate opportunity for such. Aside from that brief infatuation and a few dates with Flash Sentry literal centuries ago (which wasn’t fair to the poor stallion, since it was a carryover from another dimension at that) Twilight hadn’t really pursued anything. Then again, she hadn’t made time for such pursuits. It had seemed trivial. However, seeing Sassi and Astral interact had jump-started a longing Twilight had thought was in cold storage. The ‘what-ifs’ were now back to torment her on and off throughout the day. It wouldn’t be so annoying if actual potentials didn’t exist. Entertaining the idea of having someone on the bad days when everything was overwhelming, when the crown came off and she was just Twilight… When she could be just Twilight. Another breath in, and then out. National crisis first. Then handle the personal crisis. That was a two-step list. Twilight could work with that. If Tanzil could handle Twilight having an anxiety attack when they met up for lunch (as was highly likely), perhaps he could move into the slot of her feelings titled ‘potential keeper.’ The fact he had given her such a thoughtful gift, however, already had his label as ‘definitely keep an eye on this one.’ Twilight found herself wishing some things were as simple as running a kingdom. Quite the antithesis of what many ponies would think. Kingdoms were simple. Equations worked for policy, politics, and keeping most of the population happy. Her own life, as she had discovered, could not be governed by equations. That was doubly true when the mare let herself try and quantify what she wanted. A breath in, and then out. More dwelling on that later. Walking into the control room, Twilight had only begun to read over the newest reports when a cry went up from the Communications Officer. “We have a connection again! Broadcast from the RASP system again. It’s already fading though.” “Pull it up, please,” Twilight immediately replied. As the static cleared, Twilight’s sensitive hearing heard a collective intake of breath on seeing the upper half of Astral’s body lying prone on the floor. Red lights blinked from around the helmet seal on the armor. Astral’s eyes were closed as blood trickled from his mouth, the unconscious pony coughing up healing foam and a black sludge A set of hooves then entered the frame, a terrified, desperate cry nearly blowing out the speakers. “ASTRAL!”