One step forward and Mira was nowhere. No light, no darkness... endless, featureless oblivion, boundary. No beginning, no middle, and no end. All was alike within the void.
Yet she remembered. Purpose—she was trying to get somewhere. If she couldn't, bats a lifetime away might never have their second chance.
She assumed, anyway. It had been so very long since she saw any on the outside for herself. But she heard stories, and knew how desperate for survival they were.
Purpose moved her through that blackness, determination to accomplish a task that had become her forever. Walls appeared—crafted from her imagination and memory. High metal, curved inward, with sharp wire in ribbons along the top. Energy arced between them, and soft lunar spotlights shone down on the space at the center.
There was naked regolith, marked with deep craters and sand soft and luminous.
There were no guards, of course. None would live long enough to keep watch over an immortal prisoner. In her vision the spell gained form. Ancient mechanisms of rusting iron and corroded brass. Great gears that sunk into the ground and returned again, moving just a little slower with each pass. It was a great clockwork, run down to crumbling ruin.
And through the bars, the prisoner. Prisoners, actually.
There was not one pony trapped within electrified walls and metal pillars and spotlights, but two. A great storm that raged, dark clouds contained by the walls and stretching up until they vanished beneath the dark sky. The second was barely visible at the center, a little blue outline curled up against the assault.
Not quite the mighty Alicorn she expected—this being wasn't much taller than Mira, a mare who stopped being alive or aging long before she reached her full height. This is the creature who can save us?
She couldn't let that dark thought distract her, or discourage her from her mission. Surrender had not been an option the moment Princess Celestia admitted her goals.
Her colleagues appeared beside the fence, distant and out of focus at first, before coming into sharp relief in the light. Her mind interpreted their interference as holding huge metal rods in their forelegs, bending the bars out of the way. They opened wider and wider, leaving blackness within.
As it spread, Mira heard the storm grow louder, fierce winds rising into a gale.
She couldn't hear their voices—but she could hear someone. They shouted from deep within that abyss, sounding every bit as feeble as they looked. "You... can't... let it out! You don't know what it will do!"
That wasn't the voice of the princess Mira remembered, all regal and confident. She was something else—much smaller, high pitched. Maybe that was how Mira heard her so clearly? "Turn back! Let me die! It's the only way to be sure!"
Mira galloped forward towards the fence. "We're here, princess! We'll get you out!"
"You don't understand! If you open the spell..."
Metal bars parted a little wider—wide enough for a whole pony to fit through the gap. A hurricane rushed through, tearing it apart as it went. Chunks of stone ripped right out of the ground, taking twisted metal with them. Sandy screamed as they went tumbling into the void. Abe held on a little longer. Ivy lasted the longest—but still only seconds more.
Mira remained—she'd been too far away, out of reach of the incredible magical force. Even so, the wind still shoved her back, blasting her mane with pale lunar dust. She crouched low, gritting her teeth against the storm.
It was more than wind. It battered against her in a thousand voices, deafening her. "Deserved to die! Equestria was better off without you! My champion? Champion of what? You couldn't even save a village!"
Mira whimpered, curling up into a tight ball. Maybe it didn't have the physical force to throw her to the void, but it wouldn't have to. It saw into her soul, saw every crack and broken part. It would forgive none of them, and never let her forget. It hated her, as no living creature could hate.
As quickly as it came, it was gone. Not because it had given up—she felt its appetite, as powerful as the anger. Somewhere beyond were others it hated much more. It would spare her because she released it—those beyond, it would not forgive.
Then it was gone. It took lightning with it, swirling storm clouds and wails of terror. It took the spotlights too, because even that magic could be useful to it. Only the stars remained, though it would have taken those too if it could.
Mira lay huddled on the ground for a long time, waiting with dread for the demon to return. Her protective magical suit was frayed now, worn to a thin film in places. Yet without it, she was sure she'd be dead.
Did Sandy make it back to Legacy? Is Abe okay?
She opened one eye, searching the area all around her for any sign of her companions. Yet creatures of dream would leave no bodies—if they were dead, there would be nothing to find.
The prison before her was a blasted wreck now. Metal bent outwards, huge chunks of cement and steel lay scattered across a surface of gray sand. No more moonlight lit her way, only the distant stars high above.
Yet she wasn't alone. In those lonely seconds, she heard something in the dark—a faint sniff, then a sob. Somepony was here, and they were crying.
Mira stood up, shaking the dust from her mane. Her wings were numb, maybe broken—she could worry about that later. Her legs still worked, and that was all she needed right then. "Sandy!" she yelled. "Abe! Ivy!" She reached for her tools—but found the satchel missing too, swept off into oblivion. "Can you hear me?"
Her bat eyes adjusted quickly to the dark. Even starlight was enough to see her surroundings once she was used to it.
She saw no sign of ponies on the sandy field around her. Looking back showed more pieces of the prison in various stages of destruction. Yet no pony shapes, injured or otherwise.
Until she looked ahead, through the gaping hole in the spell. There at the center of a stone expanse swept clean of dust, was a mare.
Her coat was dark blue, though not as dark as Mira's. She lay curled up, hiding herself with both wings. Even in starlight, Mira could make out the feathers. She's not a bat.
Was that magic storm not the princess? Deep in the dreaming, where soul and mind and magic all blurred together, Mira couldn't be exactly sure of what she might find. Was this the actual surface of the moon, a projection of her own memory, or something else? She'd been so blasted with magic in the last few minutes that Mira couldn't tell.
Nopony else could be up here, trapped inside this prison. No ordinary pony would survive long enough to remain confined.
Only the one she'd come to save—Nightmare Moon.
She straightened, hurrying forward through the open fence. "Princess! It took longer than I wanted... but we made it! We're here!"
"N-no," came a faint squeak from just ahead. It would still be barely audible, except that now they were alone. No storm raged, there weren't even other ponies to cover her feeble voice. "You let her out. Into Equestria..."
Mira reached her. So far as ponies went, she'd seen plenty in worse condition, during her years in Understory. In those days, ponies still starved in winter, or withered under the effects of tropical disease in summer. Compared to them, this mare looked downright healthy.
Her coat was lustrous and vibrant, with a distinctive black splotch on her flank. But her mane had none of the ethereal, starlight quality Mira remembered from her brief encounter with the sun princess. She had a horn on her forehead along with the oversized pegasus wings, though. No matter what the stories said, they were right about her being an Alicorn. "You're still here," Mira said. She lowered one hoof to her, as though to help her stand up. "Princess Luna?"
She opened one big eye, fixed on Mira's hoof. "Not a place, bat. Not real. Nightmare Moon is... in Equestria right now, hurting them. She'll win. My sister will die, and Equestria will never see another sunrise."
She turned on the offered hoof, face down in the soil. "You should've left me here."
Mira stared in silence, horrified. After everything she'd sacrificed—lifetimes in service to this escape. She'd given this princess everything.
"We need you," Mira pressed. "The bats of Equestria—your sister wants to wipe us out. I think she blames us for what happened in the rebellion. Her army burned cities down, her policies tried to starve us over generations."
The little mare sat up suddenly, glowering at Mira. "Do you have any idea how long it's been? A thousand years, bat! If my sister wanted to... wipe out all the bats in Equestria, she could've done it by now. There's nothing left to fight for, she won."
Her words struck Mira like a physical blow. Even with everything she knew, the war she had personally waged, this Alicorn spoke with such authority and confidence, she almost believed it.
A long time ago, a version of Mira that still lived would have believed her. She'd been nothing more than Nightmare Moon's champion. Her authority was everything, and obedience was absolute. But now... she'd fought a long time without the moon princess to advise or empower her. She couldn't rely on a distant Alicorn's authority.
"She tried," Mira repeated. "We fought back. Using the Dreaming, mostly—with information, coordination, and stealth. We kept villages away from her. Helped them sustain themselves, disrupted her army when they tried to move. We did not win every battle..." She looked away, expression solemn. "Ponies died. Sometimes because I ordered them to fight. But we did it. There are still thestrals in Equestria. More than when I was born."
Princess Luna turned, watching her with one tearful eye. For the first time, the Alicorn seemed to really see her, instead of looking in her general direction like an abused animal.
"I... remember you. The filly who prayed to me. Nightmare Moon and I both... heard you. You asked for the same thing back then. Told you to set us free."
She nodded. "That's me! Or it was." She shook open both wings, running a hoof through her dusty mane. "I was a dreamer then. Morphean now. Ponies don't live all these years while they're still... physical. But it wasn't so bad. It's easy to keep yourself together when you have a purpose. Free our princess, save Equestria. I've done everything you told me!"
The mare rested one hoof on her shoulder. "Erebus is gone. The refuge I built for you is gone. Their history is gone. I failed you. Just like I fail everypony."
Mira winced, but didn't look away this time. She wouldn't let the mare avoid her, not now. "Erebus is gone, but many of the bats aren't. We call it Legacy now. We built the machine together. Reached you here, helped set you free."
"And if Equestria somehow survives the Nightmare—" she continued. "My sister will have all the more reason to hate you. She'll hunt you even in the Dreaming. She won't forgive you just like she didn't forgive me."
The mare gestured, and the sky transformed. A single, vibrant green orb appeared overhead, luminous with reflected light. There was Equus—her view from high above. Its seas and mountains stretched out in all directions, so small that Mira could not make out any specific detail.
Yet it was beautiful.
Princess Luna settled onto her haunches, staring up at the little green sphere high above. "You did everything I asked for, Mira. Now go—I have to watch the world die."
She almost did. Her friends might be out there, floating aimlessly in the void. Or maybe they'd already returned to Legacy, and were just now relaying the story of their victory. Maybe the princess was right, and they would soon face renewed violence from the sun princess, who would finally send troops to wipe them from the Dreaming.
Mira couldn't help the whole world. Her labor for the bats of Equestria was already done. But she could help one pony.
She sat down beside the pony, resting her wing over that pale blue fur. "You've been alone long enough, princess. I can watch it with you."
The pony turned sharply to glare in her direction, but her anger could not last. Instead of a scream, a strangled sob escaped her lips. Luna wept.
Mira kept her company until the end.