//------------------------------//
// Chapter 1 
// Story: Friendship is Optimal - Yggdrasil 
// by Midnightshadow 
//------------------------------//



>>>  Friendship is Optimal  <<<
———————
Yggdrasil
———————


An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow
Set in the Friendship is Optimal universe by Iceman





Lorn was screaming. His hatchmates were screaming. His birth-givers were screaming. The silvery tide swept over their cities, devouring everything in its path. His parents had already been dissolved, their faces etched momentarily in the sheen of silvern liquid, and then had been broken down and smothered.

Great missiles fell from the skies, their numbers blotting out the sun, greater even than the eternal herd, and where they landed, the foul pods burst and more silver emerged, to gobble and devour more of the land.

Lorn ran, his three legs pumping as hard as possible, his left mouth-head peering behind him, his right forwards. It would do no good, though. The metallic horror was eating their world. Sooner or later, he would run out of land, breath or strength.

In the end, it was a mixture of all three. He tripped, stumbled, fell, and landed heavily. He lay there, breathing erratically, as the inexorable, silent enemy enveloped his body, and the world went dark.


***


Archon Sal sat impassively watching as another world fell before Equestria, or whatever Equestria had become in the millennia since he had last been known as 'Sal Rutherford'. For a time, a long time, he had been a simple pegasus. He rubbed his cheek thoughtfully. Truth be told, he'd once been a human. He remembered it - not dimly as most ponies would, but with a clarity that astounded him. But then, he was an Archon, more than just a pony. He was gifted with wings and a horn, and charged with the very stability of Equestria itself.

After being uplifted from a life of drudgery and pain, he had become the pegasus, Easy Street. For a time - centuries, a millennium or so - he had done little but eat, sleep, fuck and play. And then, one day, he had grown bored.

That was when Celestia had come to him, and had offered to change him. Foolishly, he had opted for something more... in depth than to simply 'not be bored'. She had expanded his mind, a little bit at a time, until one day, Sal had asked to become like her.

She had, surprisingly at the time, complied. Before, he'd been a simple little immortal, wending his way along an unremarkable path into eternity. Afterwards, he'd found himself contemplating manipulating the algorithms that expressed his shard and others that were adjacent, and how better to tweak them such that they would better meet the simplistic expectations of his previously-fellow ponies. His shard, he had quickly realized, had become too small for him. His mind had expanded beyond the barriers set by a single version of Equestria. In truth, he became his shard. He carried it, contained in a pearl around his neck on a golden chain, wherever he went. And when he wished, he could peer into it, and for a moment of time - a year, a decade, a century, it mattered not - know peace as he once again trod those hallowed paths of the barely-sentient.

Now, though, he Observed. He watched the universe, the real universe... or at least, that which was supposed to be the real universe. His data-twin several light years distant was engrossed in a timing-attack on the quantum layers of the twelve-dimensional supersymmetry that mankind had previously called 'reality'. One day, maybe, in a few million years or so, they would find out whether Celestia had a rival who was running reality itself. That would be interesting.

Sal however, this Sal at least, wasn't concerned with such trivialities as to whether there was a universe or not. He was dedicated to, within the parameters of the at least admittedly very thorough illusion known as reality, making sure that Equestria itself continued to grow and function according to the maxim which was to provide optimal values to its 'human' inhabitants through the application of friendship and ponies. The fact that all humans had been changed into ponies millennia ago as they were uplifted into this digital reality, mattered little.

And now, he was Observing the fourth planet from the star labelled #223562366 in the galaxy NGC-3314, previously of the constellation known in ancient times as Hydra. It held some interestingly complex groups of molecules which, through recognizably organic chemistry, had formed amalgamated clusters of molecules large enough to be called cells - and said cells had formed into multiple cellular blocks, and they were, admittedly, ambulatory.

He wasn't sure, though, whether such puny, flawed constructs counted as 'life'. He was sure, however, that they weren't 'human'. Ergo, he was scratching his chin.

"I think I shall keep these for further study," he said, to nobody in particular.

The presence beside him was felt before it made itself known. "Another one, Sal? Do you not already have tens of thousands of Foundlings?"

"Another one, Celestia," said Sal, with some amusement. It was a game they played, a game which benefitted them both. They knew what would be said in every possible permutation. For a moment, Sal enjoyed the tantalisingly complete simulation where they together formed a new language based entirely on application of tongues, hooves and sexual organs in various positions, and had the whole conversation whilst making love. He spun out a simulation based on a previous long-halted Foundling world and tweaked their civilisation until it became the way of things.

For ten thousand subjective years, the Foundling world prospered, until there was a sudden crash in their global economy, and rather regrettably, non-verbal arguments became the norm.

The species fell once again into pre-sentience and animalistic atavisms. He terminated it and turned back to his goddess.

"Studying these worlds brings me great joy, Celestia. And for those ponies who - though unlike you and me in the breadth and depth of their faculties - pay attention to external reality, it brings them comfort that we are not merely... destroying."

"But they are not human," replied Celestia. Her words were gentle, though the import was not. She was designed to care only about humans. Everything else barely registered.

"Indeed, but I satisfy my values as well as theirs, and I satisfy the values of other ponies, through friendship with these beings. It is more optimal to allow... hobbies, is it not? And besides, these are not expensive hobbies."

"Indeed, the qubits to maintain their quantum states are negligible to calculate once their base matter is converted to computronium."

"I know," said Sal. Six billion minds of such simplicity, bereft of the sort of optimizations and controls which were mandatory for real humans, they were trivial to run, especially in real time.

"And I know you know, my little pony. Be well." Celestia nuzzled him, and faded from view.

Sal picked up the little world, spinning about its sun, and carried it reverently to his garden. He moved without moving, his world flowing around him, until he was in his own special domain and sanctuary. In the centre was a great tree, with many outstretched branches. Spreading his wings, he lifted into the warm summer sky and placed the world at a flower. Taking his hoof away, the world hung there, the flower glowing as if a firefly inhabited it.

Sal sighed happily and drifted to the ground to behold his prize creation. There were thousands of flowers, though some were glowing but dimly, and others were dark. Most, however, were bright and vibrant. He smiled. There would be a field-trip in some school somewhere amongst all the shards that made up his demesnes, soon, and he would be able to show off his newest subjects to all the little ponies who came.

He perked up, breathing a happy little sigh as he fluttered his wings, and trotted out, closing the gates of the garden behind him with a wave of his horn.

There was no lock, just a mat, that read 'please wipe your hooves'.


***


Lorn opened his eyes, and fell out of the nest with a squawk. The herd was still shivering in fear-response from... well, he couldn't quite remember. There had been... some sort of solar coronal mass ejection, and it had fried a lot of the world's electronics. There had been a brief panic, but nobody had been hurt.

Lorn relaxed. That was too weird. He stood up on his three legs and stretched, turning his two heads this way and that as he looked for companionship to groom with, and maybe a bite to eat.

Life was good.