Catlin should've died there, in the skies above an alien world built by the ones who hated her. She was out of power, without a frame, and without hope.
She felt the air whipping past her distantly, as though it was happening to someone else. No fall had threatened to harm her, not in all the years she had fought for her ancient Orokin masters. Distance was only a matter of perspective, something to be consumed by the Void.
But she had no power left for that. She couldn't fade, she couldn't retake any of her frames. She had given everything to open that hole, and slay the combined essence that fed upon Canterlot.
There were still stars up there. Though the void closed rapidly, it left something high above, several bright stars outlined against the darkness. There was something welcoming about them, like old friends waiting to see her again after a long time away.
I wonder if Celestia will ever admit she was wrong, she thought, before the end. The pony would want to give credit for this victory to her sister alone, and let the alien stranger be forgotten. Maybe that was for the best.
Something settled under her, so gradual she didn't even feel it at first. The weight was warm, flying up from beneath her until she was balanced atop its back. It didn't stop her dead, or else it would be no different from the ground. But she felt herself slowing in the air, and something brushed against her limbs. Beating wings? She didn't even have the strength to cling to it, but still she didn't fall.
Some force somehow kept her balanced across its back, with her limbs sprawled to either side.
"Stay with me, Catlin. We're almost down," Princess Luna said.
She nodded. Her voice felt hoarse and strange in her throat, but she managed. "How?"
"I didn't have the magic left in me to fight the battle. But flying up to catch you—what kind of Alicorn cannot even get herself into the sky?"
They landed. The impact jostled Catlin painfully, and threatened to topple her over her back. But she managed to reach out, gripping with one arm. She remained atop the princess's back. At least until something lifted her off, and deposited her on the ground.
They had not returned to the battlefield, exactly. Instead they were in a park. A tree rose overhead, far smaller than the mighty things that towered on old Earth. This was a cultivated place, with careful flowerbeds and comfortable benches.
Luna settled down onto her haunches just beside her, looking up through the leaves. The infestation had not spread here, somehow—with the castle as such a tempting target, its concentration had remained distant from this place.
"I feel the power building in the air, Tenno Catlin. Twilight begins her spell. It will be only moments before the city is safe."
Catlin nodded. It hurt too much to do anything else. "Good. If this works, I'll... be grateful. I don't want to see your beautiful world tainted like mine."
Catlin felt it too—like the invisible front of an oncoming storm, building somewhere unseen. She could point to it with her eyes closed, and knew it would've gone directly to the castle. What would it be like, to see the power of the Void taken to such an extreme?
"If you want to say anything—" Luna began. "Now would be the time. If you were... if you belonged to the force that caused such harm—I could shield you from it. You have earned that place for yourself."
Catlin shook her head. "I meant what I told you, Princess. I'm not infested." But then she realized, and the surge of urgent fear made her sit upright. "The frames! They're... the same flesh as the infestation! One of them was one of your subjects!"
Luna vanished from the tree beside her, leaving Catlin alone in the little park. She watched as a brilliant purple glow began to build overhead, overpowering the stars and the moon. Shapes formed there, void-glyphs that she recognized but had never imagined to see used in such a way.
Equestria had an entire language of this power, one with incredible complexity and potential.
"It's like... what we could've been, if the Orokin didn't turn us against the Sentients," she whispered. "A world of art and science. Powers used for... purification, not slaughter."
"The difference is only a matter of degrees," said the Man in the Walls. She saw herself sprawled across a nearby bench, leaning back as if in repose. Only—that self looked a little older. She was dirtier too, like she'd spent years crawling around in a wrecked starship.
The void-light grew overhead. In its shadow, her echo seemed clearer. "The Helminth is life coterminous with space and not-space. It too is a child of the Orokin. It grows, it learns. It wishes for peace." She said that last one word with a sneer. "Will you judge it unworthy of life?"
Catlin thought about her answer. Really, she wanted to punch this eldritch abomination right across the jaw. But it had chosen this precise moment to find her, one when she was unable to resist it.
Not that she ever could. She still remembered where all her power came from.
"Yes," Catlin said. "It can't live without others to consume. If only Equestria can exist, or the infestation, I make my choice."
Her echo loomed closer, grinning unnaturally wide. She saw the light-darkness of the void in those eyes. "That's why I like you, kiddo. That's the right answer. An infinity exists—an endless procession of all the lives you've taken. Yet for you, only one can exist. Your blade is the womb that births the future."
She stared back, unblinking. The mere proximity of this being helped revitalize her—or maybe that was the spell overhead. It expanded larger than the city now, its runes so vast she couldn't even read them.
"Does that mean I'm finished?" she asked. "You're ready to send me home?"
It answered with laughter. "Then why would I have helped you open the sky?"
Magic exploded from overhead. It was greater than any power she had ever seen—far more than the shield protecting the castle, or walking beside the powerful Alicorns. It was naked defiance of causality itself, imposing constraints that it should never know.
In an instant, every infested thing in the city just wasn't anymore. The mounds of flesh burying the lower tiers beneath her just vanished.
The effect was strangest by far on the shambling infected. There were not many left, only those so distant from her that they hadn't been able to reach the battlefield.
She could see a few flying towards the castle even now, at least until the flash came.
It left ponies in its place, right down to their feathery wings. Catlin watched as they stumbled from the air, gliding unsteadily to the ground beneath. At least they didn't tumble off a cliff.
"Golden Lords," Catlin cursed. "She cured the infestation?"
But Catlin was alone in the park. Her strange reflection was gone, leaving her sitting quietly beneath an alien tree.
Until another flash of light, the more familiar kind that came from a teleport. "Tenno Catlin!" Luna exclaimed, breathless. "I could only find one of these 'frames' you spoke of. I do not believe this is correct."
Catlin looked back. Princess Luna stood with the golden, winged frame sheltered beside her. It was as lifeless as she saw the last time, standing rigid. Luna had to levitate to move it.
"That isn't her," she said, "but maybe that's a good thing." She stood slowly, walking to the edge of a low wall. The city wasn't undamaged—buildings were still broken, little fires burning. "Your princess did more than anyone I've ever seen. She cured it. Maybe she could cure Ruby River too."
Luna stared down after her. She still looked breathless—her strength had not been restored by an encounter with an elder god. "Survivors," she whispered. "It is... incredible. Yet it leaves me to question—was there some way we could have fought this infestation without blood? Could we have protected all our subjects, waiting for this moment?"
"No." Catlin didn't hesitate in her answer. "Its avatar would have resisted your spell if we didn't kill it. Only thousands of dead could coalesce into something so strong. How could you stop it from throwing the lives of its infected at your wall?"
Luna didn't get a chance to answer, because something else spoke. It came in a hiss and pop of static from her suit—the integrated ship radio.
"Operator!" Ordis called. His voice came distorted by a badly damaged suit, one battered by multiple battles. Yet it was clear enough for her to recognize him instantly. "Is that really you? I'm coming in as fast as I can!"
Catlin looked up into the dark, and she saw it—a streak on the horizon, coming in on a sharp downward angle.
It was a hard burn, hard enough to light the sky with bright orange, and roar like distant thunder. Distant, but approaching rapidly.
"Ordis," Catlin replied, one hand on the radio. "I never thought I'd hear your voice again."
"Me neither, Operator! When you insisted on deploying directly onto the battlefield, I was simply horrified! I do hope you'll avoid such reckless behavior in the future."
Princess Luna stared down at her suit. Those pony ears were evidently sensitive enough to make out the words even if they were only meant for her. "What is happening, Tenno Catlin?"
"It's a friend," she answered. "I have... no idea what he's doing here. But he's no danger to Equestria. Ordis, cut your speed! There are friendly fliers in the air, and some of them are using real wings. Don't hit anything."
There was a moment of hesitation—if she knew Ordis, that was when he would be deciding whether or not to obey her. But she was almost alone up here, with no sign of known threats. There were no Sentients around her, no army of Grineer marines.
The sound of roaring engines cut back to their usual, stealthy hum, approaching rapidly.
"These things you spoke of... travel through the darkness of space, homes built in the aether—these were true as well? My sister will have... quite the apology to make to you, when the danger has passed. I hope you don't intend to leave Equestria so soon. You are the only creature who can grant clarity through this confusion. My sister's information is clearly—out of date."
"I have... no idea how to travel from one system to another," she admitted. "So yeah, I think I'll stick around for a while."
"Oh, is that what happened?" the radio hissed, in Ordis's voice. "Another system? That would explain the stars, and the missing solar rail, and... wow. I wonder if your clanmates have figured that out by now.
The lander came into clear view, a brilliant white and gold craft forged of many salvaged parts of Orokin make. It flew overhead, circled, then came down low beside a cliffside, lowering the boarding ramp.
The princess stared, mouth hanging open at the shining interior.
Catlin could imagine all her equipment waiting inside—hell, she could imagine the luxury of a shower and her own bed.
But she couldn't get inside just yet. "Ordis, find somewhere to land. I can't get aboard. I have work left to do."
"At least replace that broken suit!" his voice urged, over the radio. "And look at that frame! It's so badly damaged you've broken its spine! It needs proper maintenance."
She turned, glancing back at the motionless frame behind her. Luna had rescued it from the cleansing spell, but it was still badly damaged from battle. Maybe Ordis was right.
"If you wish to see for yourself." Catlin took one step forward, onto the ramp. "You're welcome aboard."
"I..." She hesitated, though only for a second. "Would like nothing more than to see the stars from orbit, without confinement to our moon. Yet at this moment, Canterlot needs me."
She nodded towards the frame beside them. "Take it. Care for it. I will see if I can find the other."