//------------------------------// // Convergence // Story: Friendship Space // by the dobermans //------------------------------// The silver blue tracer line fades away, cut short less than a meter in front of you. This is it. The relentless ghost of Nicole, the dopey, sugar-fiend ponies, the bleeding, roaring freaks falling over themselves to infect you at every blind hallway intersection and unsealed vent junction ... you'd outfought and outsmarted them all. Just a man keeping his wits about him. Just your average engineer, using his tools - his acumen and determination - to solve his problems. The Hand had a bit to do with it too. Got to give credit where credit is due. You bring up your route one more time, just to relive the little morale boost. No doubt about it. It ends here, on the other side of this doorway. Daina and whatever forces she has with her must have cleared out most of the necromorphs in this area, because you'd only encountered one in the last ten minutes. Busted through the top panel of the elevator on the way up, all business, probably trying to cut you before you could get a shot off. Just clocked that one until it broke apart in its high class robes. Let the RIG do the hard work. Every ounce of strength it had taken to get here is going to pay off. Every time you'd picked your balls up off the floor after being jumped or blindsided or cornered by whatever version of alien shithead happened to present itself. Every time you'd manned up and did what needed to be done. All of it had been worth it. Your actions were going to save lives. Lives that matter. The broad, stone-panelled doors grind open, an orange light dawning between graven images of the Royal Sisters, and the cloven spires of the Marker, set in grand seal in the center. It might be the sunrise, or sunset, a new or dying light lingering on the horizon of Saturn as it turned. Or it might be auxiliary sodium lamps filtering through the smog ever spewing out of Titan's exhaust stacks. A woman - a calm, sane, well-dressed woman - is standing at the end of a wide room with her back to you, gazing out through spotless wall windows at the ruined crags and stained skyscrapers of the Sprawl. Daina. Daina, you holy angel of deliverance - no offense to you, Hand - fuck me if I thought I'd ever actually meet you. God, get me something to eat. Get me a shower. And most of all, get these fucking toy box dollies out of my ... wait ... that smell ... so clean ... Two long, pale forelegs slip down over your shoulders from behind, hooking in front of your chest and drawing you backward against a warm, heavy body. "... the fuck?" You push up with shaking legs, trying to wrestle out from beneath the crushing weight. Fuck this bullshit. You did not come all this way to be killed three goddamn meters from your rescuer. You'd earned your ribeye, and you're going to savor every last drop of salty, succulent juice from that motherfucker. You raise your arm to blind-aim the Hand at the creature's head behind you. If you can get just one shot off, just one shot to the face or the neck ... One of the forelegs slides down, the rune-carved golden shoe slipping around to your elbow, locking it snug against your ribs. "You diseased ... piece of ... shit, get ... the fuck ... off ..." You flail your left arm, punching, tripping, trying not to fall. If you can reinforce your momentum, apply enough torque at each swing ... that's good, just a few centimeters ... The legs hug you tighter, pulling you in, deep inside the soft, warm prison. Too strong. Infinitely strong. You’re pinned so tight against the supple beast you can feel the thing breathing, bending your spine in a slow, constant rhythm. It’s not even trying. It calls to you in a gentle voice, a voice far above your struggles and the sordid conflicts of the world, untroubled by the greed, the civil wars fought over food and scraps of land, the desperate, mindless desire of the tired human gene to keep redefining its tidepool's shorelines. It speaks the last words you want to hear. “I am Princess Celestia.” Well that's it, son. Last go at the whack-a-mole. Blow it here and you're stuck on the carousel for the next billion years. Somehow she had found out what your plan was - one of her rat fink little runts must have overheard you talking to Daina - and she'd ducked in while you were dealing with her lackeys, waiting until she could be sure you'd be too battle-weary, starved and dehydrated to really give her a fight. Smart. Now she's going to pop you open like a soda can, pally. Easy as pie. “God, no! Get off me! Get the fuck off me!” A shimmering pastel cloud drifts into view from either side, endless undulating sheets and streams of a living mane, dulling the world away, leaving you alone with the sound of her deep, calm breathing. Alone with the spices of her joyous scent. Daina's still watching her infernal sunrise, unaware of your thrashing, or of the groups of ponies and their human friends emerging from the shadows in the unseen corners of the room. There's Smokey, and Gleaming, and Candle, Luna's squadron of pegasi, Sprout and Marmalade and Scroll Whisper, Eric and Panflute, and Stross, and all the others you'd chased and battled trying to get here. All come to applaud their Princess as she dismembers and infects her prized victim. “Daina! Look out!” Does she have a death wish? Why isn't she helping you? Why isn’t she moving? Two giant, swan-white wings spread wide behind you, so close they could be sprouting from your own back. Their enormous feathers, broad as your hand, rustle as they stretch to either wall. The tips sweep up, curling inward like fingers, crossing as they fold over your chest. Below, the tricolor serpentine mane is working at your stomach. The fabric of your suit rips, then splits open, the metal reinforcing strips whining as they bend apart. The wings. It had been her in the tram station, her sitting next to you on Ship Shape's bed, her pressing the horn down onto your head with your own hands. That's how she'd known you were coming here. She's been in your mind all along, tempting you, tormenting you, wearing Nicole's face to deceive you. If she's in your mind, then she knows about your past. Your childhood. You twist between her unyielding hooves. "No! You're lying! You don't exist. None of you are real. Daina, help me! The delusions, they're all around us! I can't fight them anymore!" Daina turns, a radiant smile dawning on her face. She raises her arms and speaks to the gathering. "Behold, the Avatar of the Consummation! The Sun has risen, and now before us cradles the Chosen in her mighty wings. It was foretold, and it has come to pass!" The congregation chants in unison. "Beneath moon and sun, all are one. Beneath moon and sun, all are one." They know. They all know. "Even so! Even so," Daina responds. "The Age of Harmony is dawning. My brothers! My sisters! Convergence is at hand!" How did you not see this coming? All of the whispering in the background while she was talking on the telecomm, the secret location inside the Church, the doors unlocking by themselves ... she wanted you to get here, but it sure as shit wasn't to save you. "Daina? You're a Bronitologist too? Of course you are. Why did I trust you?" Daina looks up above your head. "May I answer, your Highness, or would you prefer to proceed?" "Tell him what he wishes to know, child," the sublime music of Celestia's reply resonates against your back. "It may help him adjust. Rest assured he is secure, and will run from us no more." Daina nods and answers your question. "Well, you didn't have a choice, Isaac. I told you there was a cure, and you came running." You twist again, hoping to catch your towering captor by surprise. No good. The massive forelegs squeeze you tighter. "What is wrong with you people? Why can't everyone just leave me alone? Daina, don't do this. Don't let this hap ..." There's no cure. There's no goddamn cure. She's been mindfucked exactly like Stross. Leaving you with the same two options you've been agonizing over since this started: either her behavior is part of your hallucinations, or ... fuck. Or you're not hallucinating. Occam's Razor rules out option two. Right? The Marker has her brain scrambled so bad she's worshiping the things that are just a hair's breadth from slaughtering what could be the last remaining humans on Titan. All you have to do is convince her. “Daina, they're necromorphs! We’re under attack! They’re going to kill you!” “Necromorphs?" Through the spaces between Celestia's fragrant feathers you can see Daina stepping closer, shaking her head. The thin braided loops in her hair swing like nooses. "Isaac, there are no necromorphs. It was all a cover-up, false memories our pathetic government planted in your head to hide what we," she gestures to the crowd, "the faithful daughters and sons of of the Royal Sisters, the true disciples of the Animator, have labored so hard, and so long to achieve. What you helped us achieve." "Daina, you're not making sense. I've been drugged, locked up for years. How could I have helped you? Wake up." "That's the drugs talking Isaac. The years of brainwashing they put you through. After you built the Mirror, the portal to Aegis VII, they quarantined you. Made you forget what you'd seen, the joy you'd found on the Ishimura." What is the answer? What is real? All you can do is squirm in Celestia's bejeweled hooves. "God damn it, Daina, I lost Nicole to that fucking deathtrap. Don't you mock me! I'm trying to help you." "No Isaac. We're trying to help you." She turns and walks back to the ponies. "They quarantined you, and they sealed the Mirror away below the Government sector where they thought they could keep it under lock and key. After they realized what they'd done, they tried to save themselves. Preserve their power. They hoped to stop the spread of harmony; to curtail the reign of the Royal Sisters." The footsteps stop. "But we set them free." Candle's voice pipes up. "Yup, that was me, hee hee!" Daina laughs and gives Candle a short bow. "Just as we freed you, Isaac. Because you are the Chosen. The one whose knowledge and fearless spirit will guide us to Paradise, the promised land the Animator prophesied." "Praised be the Animator! Glorify her sacred hand!" the crowd shouts as one. The downy feathers brush across your eyes, slipping, whispering, bidding you to sleep. What could reason hope to accomplish against a lifetime of indoctrination? Daina's a lost cause. Maybe you should sleep. Tip the king over, send him off to dreamland. Maybe when you wake up, the board and all the mad pieces would be gone. You see Daina raise her arms once more. "Now we beseech you, O Life-giver, return to us and complete the Trinity of Ascension!" A bright blue flash crackles for an instant, with a sharp burst of air you know all too well. My child, my own. Thou art home at last. Princess Luna, the Giver of Life, the Creator, had come to claim what belongs to her. Lavender and rain mix with Celestia's lilies and summer wind, growing stronger as your sweet, terrible huntress approaches. They never stop ... not a moment's rest. Nothing left to ... fight her with ... I'm sorry Nicole, I couldn't save anyone ... a man against gods ... I'll see you in a sec, baby ... I'm ... I'm ... I am yours, sweet Princess of catchflies, opening in the small hours of the morn, drunk on dew and nighttime rain, whilst we walk the starry ways amongst the moons ... Sister, we are ashamed. We tried our best to collect him, yet here we find him embracing thee. Thou always makest this business seem trivial. Just a bit of patience, Luna. Nothing more. Think not of it, but that our sweet foal is here with us, and will be with us, forever. You rear and rest your dark, slender forelegs over Celestia's - Celestia and Luna, those are your names - the moon of your ancient black torc shining like first it did when it was forged in the heart of the nova star you fancied most, far back behind time's shifting veils. You tilt your crowned head back and close your eyes, calling your magic forth. Your mane stands on end for a moment, electrified by your boundless power, then darts down in a thousand spirals at the exposed flesh below. Let your poor wandering foal by comforted by midnight of your body. Let the child see nothing else. Both manes dig into your navel, prying their way in. Celestia's gentle breath touches the top of your head. “Just try to relax.” The soothing words echo in triplicate. Who heard them? Who spoke them? We all did. Even young Isaac. The dense tip of the manes digs deeper. The pressure is building on your insides. Isaac? Am I me? I am. I don't want this. I am not you. I'm Isaac Clarke. CEC Engineer. I'm ... Shit. She's gone again. Killing you takes a lot of concentration, apparently. OK Isaac, this is bad. Hand, we're down to our last card here, buddy. You want these dirty fucks shoving their grubby little hooves into you, putting you on eternal cheerleading duty? We can hit Luna. Yeah, right there, just like in the Sanctuary. Almost there. Almost ... "Isaac." Daina had appeared by your side. She grasps your arm and begins straightening your wrist, pointing the Hand dead ahead at Luna's chest. Mother of Altmann. "Daina! After that little speech I thought you'd lost it. That's right, now, when they're caught up in their magic bullshit, Luna first, then Celestia. We can do this. We can get out of here ... She takes hold of the Hand and pulls it off of you, tossing it to a grinning Gleaming Over. The pegasus works it onto her hoof and gives you a salute. "Tickley tickley!" Fuck me. The manes break through, piercing the skin of your navel, gushing into your midsection like water through a broken dam. You hear yourself scream. The long, thick horsehair is snaking through your veins, all ice and fire and electricity pounding in your heart and in your brain. Every neuron, every cell, every muscle fiber rages with the Sisters' loving magic. The sparkling motes of light that adorn their wondrous manes are flowing, bursting from the lofty, regal heads and coursing into your convulsing body in a constant torrent of warmth and energy. The air around the three of you explodes into a fiery aura of light, a column of dancing gold and azure flames. Daina calls out again, "The umbilicus is complete, praise Celestia in the highest! Praise Luna in the highest!" "Beneath moon and sun, all are one! Beneath moon and sun, all are one!" the congregation responds. They begin bobbing up and down, murmuring the chant at a feverish pace. “Mmmm. This part always feels wonderful," says Celestia. Her lips nuzzle your ear. "Don't you agree? Rejoice, little one! You're going to have a new beginning. You may feel a little awkward at first, but we have the rest of eternity to help you discover the real you, the pony you were destined to become." The rest of eternity to use your corpse to kill and infect the innocent. "God … damn you. Just fucking off me and get it over with." Celestia nuzzles your other ear. “Dear stars, so much aggression.” "He gave us much trouble, sister," says Luna. "Even now he defies us." She smiles and dips her wings under her sisters' to encircle your waist. A free wisp of her mane drifts up and caresses your forehead. Celestia holds you tighter, hugging you with her wings. "He has lived his whole life without our love. The love he was born to receive." Where is she? Where is the traitor? “Daina ... you've ... murdered us all!" The manes churn in your stomach, seeking. Probing. You can feel Celestia's hot muzzle smiling against your cheek. “Ahh, I can sense your mother. Here, where you were connected to her in her womb. She was a strong woman." "Fuck you ... my mother ... was a lunatic. And so are you." "Hush, child. Be calm. She devoted you to us the moment you were born. Did you know? Yes, your memories tell as much. She bound you to the Sun and the Moon for all eternity. She held you up to your world's sun ..." She held us up to the sun, the Sign of the Daybringer. The priests and Stewards had gathered, singing and drawing symbols in the earth below your tiny feet, anointing you with oils and incense, awaiting the coming moon and the eclipse. And when it came, when the moment night and day coexisted, they pronounced you Celestia and Luna, Luna and Celestia, three-in-one, and in that moment, we resided in you ... You fall to your knees. Over the roaring of the magic, you hear the whine of your RIG flatlining. God damn you, I'm not you. I'm Isaac Clarke ... I'm Isaac ... Clarke ... Somewhere far away Daina is crying, “Behold it was written by the Animator's own sacred hand! In the light, whether from moon or sun, all belong. All are one!” Somewhere, the congregation gives its assent. "Beneath moon and sun, all are one!" *** Wind. Rushing in, sighing out. The wind is blowing. You wake on the steps of a beautiful white temple, surrounded by hibiscus flowers, looking out between two towering marble pillars founded at their bases in gold. A strange glistening sky flows overhead, purple and rose and green currents gathering and dispersing, winding away into the obscure distance. It must be a temple in the clouds, because what lay beyond was lost in a restless haze. The other half of the sky is darkness, lit by a giant crescent moon and meandering tracks of stars. There must be a jasmine grove hidden there, and lavender gardens and citrus orchards laden with delicious ripe fruit, perfuming the breeze that's moving through the mist. What a nice dream. It's been like this for years, for centuries. Eons. Just you in the comfort of the temple. And the voices. The voices are nice too. Friendly voices. They're all your friends, your brothers and sisters. And best of all, most wonderfully best of all, is Her voice. "Rise and shine, little Star." The dream is changing. The clouds are clearing, and ... what fun! You can see your friends! They had been with you all along while you rested on the steps of the temple. If only you weren't so weak and hungry, you'd run to play with them. "Praise the Daybringer! It has come to pass just as she promised!" There's a face that seems familiar. Her name is Daina. Daina Le Guin. She's nice. And sweet stars is she happy! She sinks to her knees in front of you, clasping her hands over her heart. “A brilliant gem, shining with her own light! Praise unto you Celestia, praise unto you Luna, immortal and blessed are your works! So beautiful. You are so beautiful, Isaac. Or should I say, Your Highness?” Beautiful? Your Highness? Back before the temple, before Her - whenever that was - people had called you many things, but never 'Your Highness'. And only one person had ever called you beautiful. What had her name been? So hungry. Brain fuzzy. Another nap - maybe then you'd remember. Daina's crying. "How wonderful! Celestia, you mared him!" Poor lady. Why is she sad now? She'd called you Celestia, and that wasn't wrong, but it seems there's more to it than that. Oh, wait ... of course Daina. As you know ... "Of course, Daina. As you know, I prefer fillies and mares for my subjects, especially the ones with whom I am to entrust important responsibilities. I find it easier to come to an understanding with females. The males tend to be a bit, shall we say, single-minded." ... single minded. How odd. So many voices, but only one is talking out loud. Can you see what's going on? What does she look like? She's adorable! Praise Luna! Celestia in the highest! The Animator's prophecy has come to pass ... She gives me so much hope ... All the ponies - your friends - had formed in a circle around you, maneuvering to catch a glimpse of the newest addition to their family. You can feel the love and joy kindling in their hearts every time they catch sight of you. All of their thoughts and feelings are open to you. And Hers too. Well done, Daina. You have ... "Well done, Daina. You have done all that we asked and more." "Thank you Celestia, most holy, most serene. I have gained the access codes to the Ishimura as you commanded. EarthGov no longer has the strength to defend it. The ship is ready once," she looks down at you, "once Her Highness makes the necessary repairs and plans the attack route. The population centers will be completely unprepared." "Well done. Well done indeed. You have earned your reward." Daina breaks down, sobbing and laughing as she bows low to the floor. She crawls forward on all fours. "My ... my reward! I've ... waited ... I've waited so long. I'm ready! Take me! Take me!" Celestia speaks from overhead. "For your diligence and performance under pressure, I shall make you Commander of the pegasus legions. Great will be your fame, and long will your name live in the songs amongst the clouds. Scroll Whisper?" The cheerful unicorn moves away from the crowd to stand next to Daina, who is reaching towards you mouthing 'take me, take me'. "Yes Your Highness?" "You've had a lot of practice with the basic transformation spell of late. Would you mind making Daina a pegasus of the first order?" "Right away!" Amber light bursts from the tip of her horn, reflecting in a hundred twinkling eyes. Daina lifts her arms to the ceiling, screaming in ecstasy. Good job, Daina. You made us proud. I can feel it, I can feel the Daybringer's joy, the Life-Giver's love, their attention turning to me. All for me. Only for me. And you ... “You shall be Princess Star Topaz, first ruler of the Crystal Ponies!" The crowd cheers your name. It's a beautiful name. The old one was a hodgepodge anyway. Something to laugh at. And to me, you shall be ... "And to me, you shall be my beloved daughter." "And ours," says Luna, laughing with delight. Daughter? Can it really be true? Yes! Oh yes it can, for we have shared ... "For we have shared our very essence with you, the essence of the flesh in which we eternally dwell, and our immortal life. Our thoughts shall be your thoughts. Our love shall be your love. In the centuries to come, we shall teach you how to be a Princess ..." "And a mare," chuckles Luna. "Thank you mama! Thank ..." You jump at the sound of your new voice, musical and gentle like that of your mother dams. You clasp your tiny hooves over your snout, looking up, up, up at both of them. Celestia smiles. “It's alright, child. I know it's strange. Glimmer, could you please bring little Star a mirror?” “You bet, Princess!” Your pegasus friend, somehow both a sister and a foal to you, looks around, trying to catch somepony's eye. Candle waves her hoof. "I've got one! Over here." She reaches into her saddlebag and sifts through the loose tapers. Gleaming flaps to her, digs her hooves into the bag and yanks out a small cosmetics mirror. "This isn't the time for dilly-dallying, Candle. This is royalty we're dealing with." She shakes her head and zips back to you, touching down and bringing the mirror to your face. "You really are a sight, Highness," she says in a low voice. "Have yourself a look-see." A peep escapes between your clasped hooves as you gaze at your reflection. Your body is translucent, smooth, light blue crystal. Only magic could do this. Your mane and tail are tripartite violet, white and indigo banners of stars, flying, driven by an inner turbulence, disappearing into unseen dimensions in fractals and arcane geometries. And you got your wings! The horn ... you could learn to live with that, especially because you knew mama had wanted so badly to give you one. How could this be? You peer into the eternal depths of your eyes, aqua green like Luna's, and flecked with rose and gold. The light refracting though them, and through you, is tinted all the colors you can imagine. You tremble where you lie, unable to look away. "Hey, I'd ask you to be my foalsitter," says Gleaming, "but it kind of looks like you'll be needing one yourself for a while. No offense." It's true. You're barely out of foalhood, your flanks bare except for the circled crosses of crystal asterism, like the settings of jewels that have yet to be chosen. You try to stand, wanting to leap into Celestia's and Luna's open hooves and hold them. Show them how grateful you are for their gifts. But your knees buckle, and your faceted hooves slip on the bare floor. You land hard and bang your head. You really are just a foal. And you're so hungry, and there's nothing to eat. Tears well up and spill down your cheeks. Celestia's wing sweeps down like a curtain, and with one prehensile feather she dabs your face dry. “Oh sweetheart, you must be starving." Luna rushes to you and lays down by your side, her own wing draping over your narrow, shivering shoulders. "Sister, perhaps we should ..." ... feed her in the way of dams and foals. Yes. Yes. "Yes, you are right, Luna. We shall do what mothers do when their foals need nourishment. It shall be a lesson for the gathering as well, a display of humility, a virtue we prize and cultivate in all of our children." The great mare lies down with her belly towards you. She raises her wing above the mountain of her body and shifts her massive hind leg back. "Come little Star," she calls, wrapping you tight in the glow of her magic and drawing you close. "Mother is here for you." You smile, looking out through the golden light at all the happy ponies as you glide backwards through the air. So many new friends. And you know them all so well. "Oh, how sweet!" they're saying, "Bless Celestia! Bless Luna! They are mothers to us all." Your back presses into Celestia's fierce warmth. You look to your right, and see what she is offering. Two fuzzy, pink, hoof-thick teats, almost as long as your foreleg, ready to give you everything you need. They're so big. There's no way you can ... if you did, wouldn't you choke? Besides, everypony would see, and mother would be shamed. You recoil, pushing between Celestia's forelegs. “Oh my precious, don't be afraid," she says, stroking your mane. "There’s nothing here that can hurt you.” Luna nudges you with her nose. "We assure thee it is safe, dear one. Please, it pains us to see thee listless and hungry. Thou art a pony now. It is natural. But ... ours are not so fearsome. Wouldst thou be more at ease with us?" She parts her inky haunches, letting you view her more modest marehood. You look back down towards Celestia's hindquarters. There is a place, a hollow of sorts in her underbelly, just above her hind legs. Just the right size for burrowing and curling up. Perfect for snuggling. She cradles you within her magic once again, drawing you tight against her. Here, child? Is this where you want to be? Yes mama, right here. OK. How to start? Maybe if I just touch with my lips, like this ... OK, not so bad. Maybe ... You open your mouth wide, wide as only a pony could, wider than you ever thought possible, and crane forward, inch by inch. It's almost in, almost all the way ... You clamp down, breathing through your nose, careful not to bite. You can feel the mammoth teat filling your mouth, all the way past the back of your throat. Cool! You're not gagging! You did it! All the soft tiny hairs on your tongue are a little weird but ... ... this is insane this is insane this is insane this is insane oh fuck it hurts please somebody help me please somebody help me somebody help me please please please please please ... No, no, ssshhh, it's fine, it's OK. It's not like you're being impaled through the mouth. No, definitely nothing like that. Because the first drop of milk has touched your tongue. Vanilla, cream, cotton, ginger, cinnamon ... everything good and clean. "Best thing you ever tasted!" yells Smokey. He's trumpeting into a handkerchief, crying into Gleaming Over's shoulder. She rolls her eyes and pats his shaggy mane. Silly billy. You pull on the spongy teat with long, desperate draws, nursing and guzzling the delicious milk. It disappears down your throat, diffusing into the crystal lattice of your body, washing away the dirt left over from your old self. Washing away the last vestiges of your humanity. Celestia arcs her long neck back to you. She sniffs at your thin, distended ribs, and begins to lick them with slow, gentle strokes. Luna joins her, lapping your neck and chest. Words cannot express how we favor thee, little gem. Precious Star. Sleep now. Perhaps we can provide thy next meal. You nod and begin to coo, rasping through the thick milk. Your mouth and tongue are working on their own now. You slip in and out of a dream. A dream of a wonderful white temple and a dazzling sky. "Mmmm. There. She's happy now. Let's give her a little privacy." Celestia lowers her wing, blanketing and shielding your face from the world. Luna rests her head on Celestia's thigh, smiling, watching you as you suckle and drift away. She lowers her wing behind Celestia's, hiding the rest of you. You stare into her kind, brimming green eyes. They will take care of you. They will take care of everyone. You fold yourself into a ball between them, soaking in their warmth and their love. Here you shall stay, the sun overhead, the moon watching behind, in the center of everything. I love you Celestia. I love you Luna. With all my heart, I love you. Oh, sweetheart, I love you too. My daughter! My little Princess! Will you help us with the journey ahead? Will you share your knowledge with us? Anything you ask, anything for Mother Sun and Mother Moon. That's a brave filly. We are so proud of you. Now, let us console our foals. They need to be reassured that we have not forgotten them. Yes sister, speak to them of the future we have won for them today. Celestia raises her head and addresses the congregation. "You are the first, my children. The stars were young when last we lived and ruled among our own, our cherished ponies. Now we shall begin the cycle anew!" "Beneath moon and sun, all are one!" they answer, loud and strong. "No longer will you suffer with imperfect bodies and imperfect souls. Everywhere you have wandered, we shall gather you in. Each and every one." "Beneath moon and sun, all are one!" "Let all who have yearned and waited in darkness, come now to the light!" Deep within your living, breathing nest, you can hear cheering and shouting. Through the eyes of your brothers and sisters, you see all of the remaining humans being lined up against the window by unicorns and transmogrified in one brilliant blast. Or perhaps, just for a moment, perhaps you see them screaming, spraying blood from severed arteries, rolling in spilled organs and armless torsos ... “And we shall find our perfect place. And we shall call it,” ... but such details are no longer your concern. For you had already found your perfect place, in the center of everything. Sleep, little Star. We shall keep watch over thee. Yes, Mother Moon, at last ... sleep. Celestia's final word is the last thing you hear before you yield to sweet, dark oblivion. “Equestria.”