//------------------------------// // 6: Machinations // Story: The Chaotic Touch of Harmony 2: Bonded by Fire // by law abiding pony //------------------------------// Summer days, warm sands, and crashing waves were the most defining features of the beaches of Haywaii. The one where Celestia, Luna, and Twilight Sparkle currently sunbathed in was no different. The independent city-state was based on a large island and was populated by a race of pegasi whose wings were on average to be twice as long as an alicorn’s. The adaption was designed more for endurance gliding and riding the plentiful thermals that rose from the ocean than for the fast acrobatic fliers Equestrian pegasi were renowned for. The islanders were a warm and accommodating people and welcomed both tourists and their money with open arms. The trio of alicorns were pampered guests of the islanders while the pony nation back home was run smoothly by a temporary regency. Luna held a Poñi Colada in her magic and sipped it through a bendy straw as she sat on her lounge chair. “You know Tia, we really must get away from the nobility more often. Were it not for my vigil over the dreamscape those miserable ponies would make me lose sight of the commoners’ wishes and I believe that is their aim.” The alabaster alicorn tilted her sunhat away from her eyes to smirk at her sister. “Yes, because vacationing on an island away from our subjects allows us to reconnect with the common folk.” “And staying in a castle surrounded by the aristocracy does?” Luna countered with a flick of her wing against Celesta’s nose. The elder alicorn took the light smack with a titter. “Well it helps to shuffle the advisory council every now and again. I think I shall enact one upon our return. Yet despite the nobility’s efforts, word has it that there are quite a few musicians experimenting with a new genera these days in the common quarters, though I have been far too busy to investigate it myself.” Luna was intrigued and tapped her chin with a coy smile on her face. “I’ll have to find out more; even so, I’m rather disappointed in our subjects.” Celestia lost a bit of her good humor at the slight sourness of her sister’s words. “In what way?” “They haven’t expanded in the arts. The painting styles, sculpting, drama,” She twisted in her chair to look her sister in the eyes. “You do realize the classical music that is so popular in Canterlot today is the same exact thing as classical music was before my little—episode?” Celestia frowned. If Luna was willing to bring up her banishment, which still pained the sisters, to prove a point then it was something she would heed. “What did you have in mind?” Pleased to have a chance to sell her idea, Luna sat up in her chair to more comfortably face the alabaster mare. “Equestria needs a cultural revolution. An influx of new ideas to bring about a golden age for the arts.” The elder sister hummed in contemplation. “It would get the nobles to spend less time exploiting the working class and if we play our cards right, we could get them to fund schools for the arts.” “At the very least it might get them to stop pointing their snouts at the sky,” Luna huffed. Celesta cast a sympathetic eye. “But where would we get these new ideas? Equestrians are already familiar with our allies’ cultures.” Luna gave her a mischievous grin before craning her neck to look on the other side of her sister where the thus far silent purple pony lounged. “Twilight Sparkle. You’re still friends with that earthling Princess—Alexia Tune? If I’m not mistaken.” Twilight slumped a little at the silver mare’s mention, a deep concern danced over her face before the purple pony kept her demeanor hidden behind her sunhat. “Yes, I am.” From her angle, the lunar alicorn couldn’t detect Twilight’s trepidation. “I’ve heard you regale of Earth’s frighteningly powerful technology. But there must be a treasure trove of the arts that she can let us have, seeing as you’ve been granting her unlimited access to our own.” Sparkle peeked out from her hat. “I’m sure she’ll say yes. Unfortunately the security measures in my tower and her tome will only let me and me alone hear or see anything on her end. If I had direct access to her tome I could change that, but as it is she could only give us literature.” Luna was not to be dissuaded. “There is more than one way to send music at least. She could send sheet music through correct? Perhaps even the schematics to build the instruments Earth uses.” Being more familiar with her favored student, Celestia saw there was something bothering her protégé and quickly guessed the subject without directly inferring to it. “What troubles you Twilight?” The purple mare felt that the royal sisters’ rare vacation was the worst time to lay new worries on her fellow rulers, but she couldn’t refuse to answer her mentor. She gave a long sad sigh before speaking. “I’m worried what will happen to her. I don’t know if I can guide her through centuries of loneliness. Being a voice in a tome is no replacement for a friend or lover you can physically embrace.” While eight years did wonders to mend the millennium long wound in Celesta’s heart at having to banish her sister, the solar alicorn only managed to remain sane thanks to the knowledge that her sister would return to her. “Then don’t guide her. Solve the problem instead.” Both of the other alicorns gave her a quizzical look. “Sister, just what are you suggesting?” “I am suggesting that Twilight find some way for Alexia to not be consumed by her agelessness.” She sat up to address her pupil directly. “This is more than just the fate of a single mare. As an alicorn, were she to fall to lunacy Earth may suddenly find itself besieged by an even more terrible foe than what it faces now.” She turned to Luna who felt the corner of her mouth tug downward, but she felt strongly against letting her mistake be repeated by another. “Aye. It took you and your friends wielding the Elements to return me to my senses. I don’t know if Earth has anything that could bring down a nightmare crazed alicorn without resorting to lethal force. Do whatever it takes to keep Alexia from suffering as I did.” Twilight abandoned her chair and any pretense of relaxing. “How should I do that? What are my limits here? Should I-” Celestia gestured for silence. “Do whatever it takes Twilight Sparkle, you have free reign to enact a solution.” Sparkle nodded with a set expression on her face. “I’ll get started right away.” Without further preamble she teleported away, leaving the two sisters alone. Luna watched the spot Twilight had just vacated for a few moments before facing her older sister. “Tia. I know this is important, but are you sure it was wise to give Sparkle free reign? You know she still goes overboard at times.” Celestia leaned back in her chair and dropped her hat over her eyes again. “I trust her implicitly Lulu, and she returns that trust in kind. This is a task that will need that overbearing nature of hers in order to solve it. You’ve seen what she’s made of the Dusk Guard.” Luna shook her head. “I only know them to be an elite cadre of magi that follow Twilight’s directive.” The elder alicorn smirked under her hat. Her mirth was evident in her voice. “She’s molded them into Equestria’s first real espionage agency without turning them into a secret police like the changelings possess.” Luna arched her eyebrow. “How do you know the changelings have a secret police? Why would they even need one?” Celestia levitated her own drink to sip from. “Twilight discovered the changelings are not quite so blindly devoted to Chrysalis as we once believed. Sparkle and her Dusk Guard have singlehoofedly stopped Chrysalis’s second invasion before it even left the badlands, eliminated an up and coming anti-Equestrian griffin warlord, covertly installed a pro-Equestrian government in Camelu before the last administration could sign a bill that would embargo us for some trivial offense to a lesser noble house, and subverted a plot to corrupt Discord back to his old ways. And that’s just the highlights of the past two years.” Luna was aghast. “How have I not heard of any of this?” The elder sister’s pride was plain to see. “Our little scholar has become quite a shrewd spymaster; I dare say the Dusk Guard and the changeling infiltrators are very competitive rivals. But if you took the time to read the reports she gives us you’d know.” Luna recalled every time she met with Twilight for the past two years. Not once did Twilight seem to be different, more comfortable in her new duties to be sure, but never dropped a hint that she was horn deep in intrigue. “How did she come about such abilities?” “It was an exchange of knowledge from Alexia. The earthling princess is part of an organization her nation calls the Central Intelligence Agency, a rather unassuming name for a group that regularly manipulates Earth’s politics on a global scale.” Luna was dumbstruck by such vast influence of what she originally assumed was a small spy ring. It only spurred Celestia to continue. “And they are by no means the only ones who use covert action to shape their world.” The solar diarch let her co-ruler digest the information a bit before speaking again. “And that’s just speaking of their astoundingly impressive talent for espionage. There is so much our two worlds can and are learning from one another. Our magic and their fresh ideas. Humanity is absolutely fascinating to read about. You should make the time to read Twilight’s letters about them Lulu. You might find the cultural inspiration you desire in what she’s already written.” “I think I’ll do just that,” Luna slouched back in her chair. “But only after our vacation. If I have to read another scroll, be it tax law or intelligence reports it’ll be too soon.” Three days had passed since the desert laboratory had been destroyed. Thompson sat quietly in his office while he reviewed a report from one of his other field team’s after-action report about the chaos surrounding Messina, Sicily. The air in his office was chilly, but the words on the report made the man even colder. “Thousands dead, more infected, and the Italian navy had to shell their own people to enforce a quarantine. One I don’t think they’re in any position to keep anymore.” He steeped his hands and rested his forehead on them. “At least the four shipments out of the desert lab led to secondary targets that we were able to shut down without the local governments knowing of our involvement.” The Herald’s threat of more pathology labs still haunted him. The fact that he had no leads as to where to look only made matters worse for him. It didn’t help his mood that half the Sicily team ended up dead with the other half making it to the evac helicopter barely alive. The worse one will be on convalescence leave for four months at best. The depressing truth of it all was the Sicily report was the best news he’d received all month outside of Alexia’s action in Africa. He was about to go over the latest recruit files when a priority message from the analyst team supporting Alexia’s herd appeared on his computer. The face of a worn out balding man appeared showing more energy than his appearance seemed capable of. “Director, I have something you might be interested in before the full report is complete.” “This is unlike you Vincent. What could be so important to have you of all people break standard procedure?” Vincent’s eyes moved away from the camera as he typed in a few commands. “You’ll understand when you see one of the videos Agent Loki recovered from their last mission.” Thompson saw the MP4 file the analyst wanted to send and he typed in his password to allow it to continue transferring into his workstation. He opened it while Vincent waited patiently for a response. The video cut to an obese man floating in a transparent water tank with Mions and ponies gathered around to witness red scales growing along his arm, neck, and torso. Thompson listened intently to the conversation from what he surmised to be the lead researcher as he spouted off details about the rate of mutation in the subject. The director raised a curious eyebrow when the subject’s lack of higher intelligence was brought up. Hopefully this problem is persistent among all new strains. It should buy us some time. He watched the lead scientist about to physically abuse another when the female Mion’s voice took on an otherworldly sound. Thompson’s brow furrowed and dropped his hands away from his face as he listened to the conversation. He paused it to speak to Vincent. “Actual footage of the Herald? And here I thought it was just some made up god of theirs.” “That’s not the most interesting thing though. Keep listening.” The director complied and watched a bit more until Garrdoth said something that piqued Thompson’s interest. “Reside on the ocean floor?” He watched the video until the Herald left his puppet and paused it again. He noticed Vincent was nodding his head as the man knew what the Director wanted to know. “Our findings thus far have determined this entity has a unifying influence on the cultists, but we have always assumed it was blind devotion to an imaginary being or enigmatic prophet.” Thompson reversed the video to when the Mions were groveling to the puppet, but the ponies were not. He noticed the equines remained tactful, but showed no sign of the manic devotion the Mions displayed. “Seems the cult doesn’t care the ponies are non-believers.” I’ll come back to that later. “What I’d like to know is this talk about this shell of his—or hers.” The puppet made it difficult to determine the Herald’s gender. If it has one. Vincent spun around in his chair to grab a piece of paper. “We think that someone might have detected whatever this shell is and caused the Herald to step up the timetable of their plans.” Thompson scowled at the image of the puppet. “That would explain why this Yeta strain was shipped out unfinished.” He leaned back in his chair to think. “What does your team make of this?” Vincent skimmed the paper he was holding. “The entity expressed concerns that someone detected his shell and the scientist’s remark on him residing on the ocean floor was not corrected or deemed false by the Herald by either word or body language. As such, we think this someone, who detected whatever this shell is, was most likely either a deep sea scientific expedition, a military submarine, or possibly a destroyer on a sub sweep. I find it difficult to believe the entity would get nervous if a random fisherman pinged this ‘shell’ with a fish finder.” “This is of course assuming we can take this information at face value,” Thompson replied cautiously. Vincent was too amped up on the finding to cast it aside. “The research team was extremely thorough in documenting their work. It’s likely there are more visits from the entity we haven’t come across yet or passed off as doping up on hallucinogens to commune with their god. I strongly believe this is legitimate.” Thompson’s resources were stretched thin, and the loss of operatives nearly every week was not helping. “If the Herald is that worried about his shell then that might be a way to destabilize the cultists if we destroy it.” He stopped musing aloud and faced Vincent. “Gather a crew and go over any reports of unusual findings at sea. Hopefully it was done by a naval ship and the captain’s log will contain a record of the encounter.” “I’ll get started right away Director.” Vincent’s image vanished, leaving Thompson alone to figure out how to protect the nation against the ever-present threats abroad. I hope this isn’t a dead end lead. Tzadavek propped his feet up on a battered wooden table inside a recently abandoned and bullet hole riddled farmhouse. Over the years his control over his minions had improved to the point where radio communications were no longer necessary, but he did have to use others to filter the constant chatter. It was a bright day with only a few clouds in the sky, not that he could see it very well from within the kitchen. Things were going well for the Overseer and he felt particularly proud of himself as he watched, through the eyes of his agents, as a choking fungus called Dragon’s Teeth grew along much of the Midwestern farmlands. Great swaths of farmland were filled with pink fungal mushroom caps that ruined the soil for crops, due to selective soil pollution, while having minimal effect on wild plants and the fungus was perfectly edible by any wildlife. Save pigs and primates, but it’s a necessary evil to fulfill our goals. A nearby newly infected was cooking a soup made of the fungus which Tzadavek had come to call, unimaginatively, Dragon Stew. The mushroom got the name from its appearance of lethally sharp teeth but a tactile inspection would reveal it was no more rigid than a bathing luffa. Whisker sat to his left on a creaking wooden chair. After the human aligned ponies made long term infiltration nigh impossible, he had been regulated to being the Overseer’s personal bodyguard and jailor of former secret service agent Menville. Tzadavek puffed on a cigar and blew the smoke high into the air. “So Agent. We might as well get around to our daily question. Are you ready to serve the Herald in all things?” The former presidential bodyguard barely looked like his old self. As with Whisker and the Overseer, Menville was a full Mion. He had red scaly skin with a few boney protrusions at various places. None of them interfered with freedom of movement, but they occasionally snagged on clothing. The only thing that separated him from the others was that he refused to surrender his will to the Herald and thus was still outside of the Link. He knew that was only still a reality because his will had not been forcibly taken from him. “I will resist you until you finally let me die for real or when you strip me of my ability to do so. Not before.” Whisker eyed the soup being placed in front of him by the silent chef. “Why do we even bother with him anymore? We’ve already converted his replacement and a dozen others, any knowledge he has is out of date.” The Overseer kept a mildly jovial tone. “But he makes such a great conversationalist, does he not?” “I suppose you want me to silently glower at you?” Tzadavek guffawed at the Agent’s defiance. “Ahhh, Billy. You wouldn’t be as much fun if you did.” As the steaming bowls were place in front of them a heavy presence in the Link let everyone except Menville know the Herald’s focus was upon them. Its resonating voice still reached everyone’s ears. “Tzadavek, Whisker. I have need of your memories.” The Overseer remained seated. He felt no need to prostrate himself to a being that had no physical body. “What is mine is yours.” Tzadavek and Whisker felt a slight pressure in their heads as the Herald pulled what he wanted from them. What he found was intriguing, but ultimately it was only data. If he wanted a second opinion on that knowledge he would need to ask. “What do you know of American pony Special Forces who have access to teleportation?” Whisker knew the question was directed at Tzadavek and him only while the Herald ignored the other two Mions. “I have only seen it in person once and that was over two years ago when my infiltration of Oppenheim was exposed.” “I have not seen anything to suggest that any pony operative has ever displayed teleportation since then, but my domain is only within North America.” the Overseer added. “This ability must be exceptionally rare,” the Herald mused aloud to the collected Mions. “There has been no record of any other pony displaying this ability in any part of the world. Perhaps this is a unique talent of a single individual rather than a group.” Whisker mulled over an idea. “From what our allies have told us, only advanced practitioners of magic can accomplish much beyond telekinesis and kinetic energy bolts. They also need to know the exact formula for those advanced spells as well or else it fails.” Tzadavek rocked in his chair a bit while Menville quaked in his seat. The former secret serviceman could only hear a thunderous voice answer his two constant tormentors. Every word it uttered was like a hammer blow to his psyche, yet he couldn’t understand any of it, save for the dominating command to submit. Had the Herald wished it, breaking Menville’s now feeble resistance would have been child’s play. The only reason why he didn’t is because Tzadavek asked that the former presidential bodyguard be left alone to eventually side with the Mions. The Herald skimmed the memories he gathered from Whisker. “Odd. The pony that displayed teleportation two years ago was female, but the one I talked to was male.” With his master debunking his own theory, Whisker offered a different one. “Perhaps it’s not completely unique, but only teachable to a select few with the talent to use it, it could be limited by genetic factors. That could be why we haven’t seen its use until now.” Whisker took little notice of the Agent’s physical display of strain and pain as he moved on to expand on his theory. “Since we haven’t heard of this female user in all this time, it’s likely that the CIA has been using her to seek out others who are capable of casting teleportation.” The Overseer knew where this was going to lead. “There’s only one place I know of as to where we can ascertain the location of this female agent; the pony city of Trinity in California. I know the agency uses the town as their headquarters and training site. Unfortunately that also makes it more difficult seeing as it’s constantly monitored by their damnable detection arrays.” “So we know the where, but as for the who—“ The Herald searched his minions’ memories again. “The best place to start would be that princess of theirs, Alexia Tune.” Whisker idly scratched his arm as he thought about it. “It is no secret that she’s the most knowledgeable person on the subject of magic on Earth. Although we have no information about her role within the CIA.” The Herald briefly contemplated the information until he reached a decision. “Then start there. I will leave the method up to you, but I want the secrets of teleportation for ourselves or at least deny this asset to humanity. Even if the princess cannot use the spell herself, I surmise she at least knows the incantation. Persuade her and anyone else who can use the spell to join us or kill them, I care not which.” Whisker was dubious of bringing her in alive. “With all due respect my lord, we should forgo trying to persuade her. Outside of the Americas, our propaganda campaign been aimed to make our equine allies think she’s dead. Her actual status could make it difficult to retain their loyalty if the truth came out.” “Or—“ Tzadavek interjected. “We play up her apparent status as a god to these technicolored quadrupeds and the ponies of the world would fall over themselves to join the cause.” The Herald gave an audible hum of interest. “Elaborate.” He dropped his legs off the table and stood up in conniving excitement. “Picture this. We’ve already told the ponies outside of North America that the humans killed their god-princess. The only reason we haven’t done it here is because they could just run over to Trinity and see the truth for themselves. Since most international airports have shutdown and almost all mass media being strictly controlled by the governments of the world, we’ve been able to make most ponies believe the Americans meaning humans, by extension, killed her. But a god isn’t so easily put down right?” he asked mockingly. A wave of dark mirth wafted off the Herald’s presence in the Link. “If we turn her to our banner, we can make her say that she reincarnated herself and is calling for a holy war against their human oppressors. Even those that don’t believe she’s a god will be hard pressed by their brethren to join in. If we play it right, only a scant few will still remain by humanity’s side and they will be ostracized due to the actions of the rest of ponykind.” “And if she doesn’t want to join us?” Whisker asked flatly. “Every non-Mion has some sort of weakness,” the Herald declared. “Money, sport, thrill, family, even something as simple as having food three times a day. Your idea has merit Overseer. Make it happen.” He bowed theatrically to the empty air. “It will be done.” They felt the Herald’s attention shift towards Menville. “I grow tired of this one remaining outside of my control. Break him in a month or I will do it for you.” Tzadavek surmised he was only being given that amount of time at all was because of the plan he had just submitted to his master. “I’ll see that it is done my lord.” The Herald departed to tend to other matters. Whisker gave his superior a sidelong glance. “So, who’s it going to be? I know you couldn’t have come up with something like that on the spot.” Menville was nursing a pounding headache as he tried to listen to the conversation. Tzadavek sneered while rising his hands up in surrender. “You got me. But it’s not really a plan per say.” He lowered his hands to begin eating his soup. “But I know someone who’s been dying to do more than just act as a one pony butcher shop.” Screams of pain and agony were a common occurrence in a small poorly cleaned barn ten miles from the Overseer’s farmhouse. Tina Star was a golden furred unicorn with a cyan mane and had splashes of blood, both fresh and dry from this morning, covering her neck and chest. The mare possessed amber wild eyes that spoke of an individual who was less than sane. Her barrel and neck held many scars that were barely visible beneath her fur. Tina happily hummed to the stereo that was playing The King and I as she held an electric bone-saw in her kinesis as she amputated the left leg off the male Mion who seemed to make it his mission to drown out the song with his pained screaming. The mare happily cauterized the stub with a blowtorch until there was nothing left but half of the thigh and blackened meat. “There we are.” She arched a disappointed eyebrow at the Mion as he whimpered on the table. “Oh don’t be such a baby. Legs grow back… well they do now anyway.” He stopped weeping in pain and struggled against the table’s restrains to try and strangle her. “Why didn’t you at least use some fucking painkillers!?” The unicorn casually stepped back while whistling to the song as she started cleaning her equipment. She paid him no mind as he growled more insults at her. She finally answered him after the song ended. “I’m not wasting anesthetics on you when you can be revived after death anyway.” He kept struggling against his restraints, more so out of pain than desire to strangle her. “That doesn’t mean I don’t feel pain you demented quack!” With startling speed, the mare raced over from the sink that was ten meters away and stuck her muzzle in his face with an iron poker in her magic. “Why would you want to stop experiencing pain?!” She stabbed him on the fleshy stub of his leg as the bone and sinew started to slowly grow back. “Pain means you’re alive! That the world around you is real! Oh, how I wish I could experience death and live to tell about it.” His cries of agony meant nothing to her. “I really don’t know why a Mion would really care about pain anyway. Your body is transient and yet you still avoid pain like you were still human.” He poured pure malice and hate into his gaze and words. “My body isn’t transient. I have to keep this one intact.” That caused the mare to stop jabbing the poker in his leg. “Oh? Well you’re clearly capable of conversation, so you’re not one of the fodder they keep sending me to chop up. So tell me, did you just recently regain your intelligence or did you—“ she leaned back with a superior smirk. “Fall from grace?” His lack of an answer, aside from glowering at her, spoke volumes. “Well don’t feel too bad dear. I’m sure you’ll get in the Herald’s favor again.” She looked at his leg which was not healing as fast as she thought it should be. Without ceremony, she undid the straps, grabbed a crutch in her magic and levitated it over to him. “The new regeneration strain in the standard Mion DNA will probably time some time to fully activate, but some good old fashion protein would be useful.” He shuffled his good leg off the table and made ready to stand up with the crutch placed under his armpit when his severed leg came flying and hit him square in the chest. “There you go darling. Enjoy.” He gave the limb, which had been badly mangled by a farming machine, a nauseated look. “What the hell do you want me to do with this? If I could have safely regenerated with it still attached then why give it back now?” The unlicensed physician gave him an incredulous look. “Why you should eat it of course. You need to regrow that leg and what better way is there to do that then to eat the old one.” There were a lot of things the Mion had done since he was infected, many of which could be classified as depraved, not that any morality matter to him outside of obeying the Herald. Yet the consumption of intelligent flesh, be it human, pony, or Mion, was beyond him. “You’re sick you know that?” She tutted and lightly rapped his head with the blunt side of the still bloody bone-saw. “Now, now, you have to listen to the doctor’s orders.” She had a feral glint in her eye that told him compliance was not optional. “I suggest adding garlic salt and some steak sauce if you can find any. This dragon’s teeth diet we seem to be stuck on makes meat a little…bland.” Before he could slink away from the blood flecked mare with a cyan mane, a phone rang nearby with the sound of a tolling funeral bell ringtone. She jumped away from him to find it. “Go on get out of here unless you want to regrow an arm next.” One of the things the cult was trying to keep active was the phone and internet services as both were too useful to allow either to collapse. The mare found her phone on the third ring and saw the caller ID was the Overseer and happily answered it. “Tazzy! You really should call more often. How are you?” The Overseer rather enjoyed her chipper attitude and returned it. “Just another day at the office Tina. How about yourself?” She gave a high society lady-like groan. “You would not believe how whiny some of your minions are. I’ll never understand why a race that doesn’t fear death can cry over a pinprick.” He adopted a sympathetic tone. “Even more so since we can regenerate limbs now.” “I knew you’d agree with me, great minds and all. I mean honestly. I strongly suggest the next improvement you people make is to cut down on the whining.” They shared a chuckle before she continued. “So tell me Tazzy, is this a pleasure call or business?” His tone remained playful. “Business actually. Our disembodied boss has finally lifted his protection over Trinity.” She gasped in restrained delight. “And the goddess? What of her?” “That’s where you come in. He wants one of two things to occur. Either we convince the princess to side with us—“ she gave an almost inaudible moan of disappointment. “or, we kill her.” The unicorn’s face was split by a murderous grin. “And I have permission to do the deed?” She could feel him smile on the other end. “Only after you attempt to convince her to side with us. We could use her knowledge on magic.” Her displeasure was clearly evident. “Oh poo, I was afraid you’d say that.” She used her magic to pull some errant hair from her eyes and regain some composure. “Very well Tazzy, I will make the attempt but I highly doubt the man lover would ever side with us.” “You’re free to use whatever leverage you deem necessary, but I want you to put forth some actual effort into turning her. No half-assery.” “As you wish my dear. Ta ta.” She hung up the phone and placed it back on the table. Tina Star stood there in quiet contemplation for several minutes before she started to pack her bags full of what few personal belongings she possessed. “I sincerely hope you decline Alex my dear, I really do.” She found a case for her surgical equipment and started packing them inside.” Two of her bone-saw blades flew to hover directly in front of her so she could inspect their edges. “You may be a god, but I will go down in history as a god killer.” She ran the edge of her hoof along the saws and found the sharpness to be adequate. “But she’s just for practice. When the Koridost arrive, I’ll earn the title of God Slayer and make my immortality greater than any of theirs.” The universe did just fine without gods, and it’ll do so again when I cleanse them from existence. And who knows, The mare turned her head around to look at her blank flank. Maybe I’ll earn my brand for killing my goddess. I wonder what it’ll look like.