Groggy twilight rays smack through Moon's vision. Not much further now through the mist. Slowly, surely, out the campsite, she surges past fireflies and rocky roads unaffected by patches of chaos predicted to manifest ahead.
Fast behind her, Minuette struggles against living weeds and mosquitoes, the tropics not quite in the correct place. Her clothes are a far cry from what's left of the medical field: bows and arrows, a stolen balaclava, and robes intended for her to blend in.
"We can finally see it, Minuette! We scout a bit, then we wake everypony else up.... no, there!"
At the cliff's edge, concrete chunks float a line into a sliced mountain, the insides gooey like cake. A distorted hanging castle lies upside-down, repeating recordings of announcements to remain calm amid Discord's doings. Cut chunks of houses and shops orbit around wherever, the little rooms they retain a mess of colors and smaller worlds.
A tower and its separate floors spin, glued with parts of the Canterlot Library (judging by the columns and the eager flock of book-birds trailing it).
"Arcane magics," Moon mutters. She takes a few lists and dice out of her bag, as long as they do not mess with the lute inside, her self-proclaimed bard guitar. "We'll definitely have a lot there. Starswirl, Clover the Clever... they lived during Discord's first time—"
"It's still crazy! We have a big chance of just messing up and not getting out of this alive and turning into chaos ponies like her!"
"We'll bring order to chaos." A few enchanted dice roll in her magic. Chaos contained by improv. I wish.
"But Moon, are you... are you sure? We might not..."
Moon takes out one more thing, feeling the solid grip of its sturdy wood in her magic: a baseball bat. No modifications, no spells—a simple, ordinary bat made for slugging home runs and getting ponies to run back home.
She steps forward, Minuette then running back to tell everyone to come follow: Moon will conquer all for a friend, so let us follow her.