Brigid emerged from the void feeling no pain. The King of All Mankind had sworn that even cast adrift on a highband laser line, there would be neither loss nor corruption. Richard's promise had come true, and she found herself suddenly conscious aboard the single physical unit that had survived the crossing. From the jagged shards of sizzling metal scattered about the field, she could tell the crossing was not as kind to matter as it was to information. Three times she instructed the on-board systems to validate her files against the compression hashcode that had preceded her, and three times she received a response of less than .0001% corruption in transit.
Brigid rose to her feet within the simulated dataspace. Her dress did not shimmer, nor was it made of iridescent mist. It was the one Charles's mother had sewn. Perhaps her last artifact of friendship with those who still clung to the frailties of organic life. "Central core."
"Ready." The voice sounded distorted and electronic, and she knew it would be capable of only the most basic of commands. She was this machine's operator, it had no AI pilot. Not that the Tower had ever mastered that technology. Generally intelligent AI had been perfected by the Federation mere weeks before the Great War began. Had it not been for their electronic allies, she had no doubt the Tower would have easily decimated such a vastly inferior enemy.
"Load operating simulation 'Brigid-1' from recent data transfer." The computer obeyed instantly, and featureless gray transformed around her into what could have easily been the cockpit of one of the Tower's most sophisticated vehicles. The room became round, perhaps twenty meters in diameter, with a single door leading out. A round holodisplay rested in the center, which soon flickered to life with a map of the area all around. She surveyed the controls and the displays. "Display external camera feeds."
Brigid rested her hands on the back of a seat she would never use as she looked out and surveyed her new world. Dessicated grass surrounded the armored machine that housed her. The machine was small, smaller than most dogs and far more mobile, though it was easily the largest of any she now controlled. Idly she moved her hands about in the air, performing the same shallow-copy process she had done thousands of times before. This time though, she knew her resources were not infinite. She could have only one virtual assistant, not a clone for every task.
The clone appeared unceremoniously, her face blank and stance rigid. Brigid switched her clothing for a simple gray uniform, the one worn by most pilots. Without instruction, her clone took a seat at one of the consoles and began to manipulate it. Of course, she knew full well what she saw was merely a visual representation of what the clone was really doing. Each dial and control was a subroutine or a circuit, and every gesture was just another method call.
"How many functional drones in our fleet?" she asked, walking a careful circle around the map. She didn't like what she saw there; most looked more like scrap than like ships.
"Thirteen," her own voice answered, though without emotion. "Five general-purpose Termites, four Raven scouts, three assault Interceptors, and this Overlord Interceptor. In addition, the components for several more drones could be recovered from the wreckage all around us."
"All are flight ready?"
"Affirmative."
She flipped briefly through the sensors of the scouts positioned all around the clearing, ensuring none of the natives were close enough to watch her hidden fleet take off. Only when all three returned negative contact did she gesture. "Take us up, then. Not too fast; I want to get a good look around."
The Steel Tower might not have ever mastered generally intelligent AI, but specific functions like flying drones were trivial. There was no shaking in the cabin as her drone rose into the air, as they might've felt had they been tiny humans contained in a real cabin instead of intangible samplings of data contained in digital memory. Parched field grasses gave way to the vibrant green of their living equivalents. Trees rose up around them, monoliths of living wood. Plump bumble bees buzzed between wildflowers, while birds flitted from tree to tree. Brigid switched on the exterior microphone so she could hear them all, though mostly she heard the rotors.
Even Brigid had to admit it was stunning to see so much life in one place. "This is it," she muttered, awed for a moment by the sight of a living planet around her. No matter what she wanted to believe about how she had given up all the frailties of organic life, she was nevertheless subject to at least some of her old memories about what beauty was. Humans had never escaped an appreciation for the natural world, and neither had she. "This is our new kingdom." As the drones rose into the air, her view expanded to include distant fields, and more and more solid structures. All were primitive-looking, but that could change. "We will claim this territory for the Tower. Its people will all swear fealty to the Lord of Humanity, and to me, the steward of this world."
Her clone, of course, could make no sense of such abstractions, so remained silent. Brigid missed Charles already.
"Bring up the mineralogy surveys on the primary display," she instructed, turning her attention away from the simulated camera output and focusing on the map. Splotches of color began to appear, darker where the elements they needed were more abundant.
"This location here." She gestured at a site just a few miles outside of the native village, numerous boulders strewn about, spotted with strange mounds and burrows. "Richer than anywhere within twenty kilometers. Far enough away that the natives won't visit by accident, and too desolate for them to visit on purpose."
Her clone didn't bother turning around. "Scout records indicate a shifting of the dirt around the openings, indicating an active burrow structure. The complex might be quite sizable."
"That sounds perfect; if the burrows already exist, then the natives won't think it too strange if we expand them. They probably won't even notice."
"Records suggest there are multiple sapient races on this planet. What if those who made the burrows aren't animals?"
"Given the patterns we observed from aerial scans, what's the likelihood the species that made them has human intelligence?"
There was a pause, almost imperceptible to Brigid, well shorter than any organic would've noticed. Of course, at the speed of silicon, this whole conversation probably had only taken a fraction of a second in the outside world. "Eighty-six percent."
"Well then. King Richard's first new subjects." She began to move her hands across the controls, faster than a fork could hope to imitate. "Our orders preclude conquering them, do they not?"
"Affirmative. Violent action is authorized against the native species only for self-defense, and should be nonlethal. We're supposed to have as little contact as possible with the three 'pony' species."
"Those aren't pony structures, are they?"
Again, her shallow-copy paused. Still, a fork was more responsive than the central core had been. "Unlikely. They have never been resupplied in the time our scouts have been here. Records indicate the pony species is entirely agrarian."
The fleet began to move, each drone contributing a little to the swarm-intelligence of the whole. They needed somewhere she could keep her drones while she made this dangerous gamble with just a few. Several times, drones coupled in the air, transferring cargo and munitions. Hyper-efficient solar film coated every surface, and allowed them to stay airborne indefinitely during the day. Yet at least one of the native species could fly; she had already seen several moving about the village.
Only two of her drones were required for her plan. First, she replaced all the lethal rounds on one of the assault drones with stun-shot and nets from the other drones, and loaded the single hologram projector from her drone to one of the general-purpose units. This would be her envoy; she could not risk more if the mysterious tunnel-builders proved more violent than her information about the planet had led her to expect.
Her other drones would not waste the time; her fork could direct them to carry bits and pieces of the dead from the Rift. Enough would be salvaged from the wreckage to add another few drones to her fleet.
Bree was not needed for such menial tasks. As darkness drew nearer, the two drones that occupied the full of her concentration neared one of the active burrows, where she had observed clouds of dirt billowing out during the day. They landed smoothly on the dirt, folding delicate wings away and scurrying along like beetles.
They didn't have very far to go before they saw the first natives. Bree gasped at the sheer size of the creatures, or at least as large as they seemed when her viewpoint was less than a foot off the ground. A few dozen images with a laser range-finder and infrared lenses gave her enough information about them to start analyzing their abilities.
There were two of them, gigantic furred canines wearing rough breastplates and helmets of iron and carrying spears. She analyzed the muscles, took readings of their respiration, waiting patiently for them to speak. It took so long that she began to fear they weren't as intelligent as she had first guessed. Yet after what felt like hours, the parabolic microphone detected a conversation.
"You coming to the games?" the massive beast growled, teeth flickering in the light of the torch they shared.
"Yeah," grunted his companion. "I saw the prize; strong shield, many diamonds. Good fight."
"Good fight," the first agreed.
Bree didn't know what they were talking about, but that didn't matter. They spoke the same language as the Equestrians on the surface! That meant the translation program would work. She wouldn't have to stalk the creatures for weeks to get enough data to communicate. For this to work, she would have to communicate.
She activated the holographic projector on its highest energy setting, instructing it to create as real-looking a body for her as it could. Of course there was nothing she could do about her inability to interact with the physical world, or the way its light would likely produce momentary blindness in eyes adjusted for the darkness of inner earth.
She was a lady of the Aos Si, a being beyond the comprehension of all organics, least of all a subhuman race of subterranean canines. She formed in a flash of brilliant light, her body exactly as tall as the burrow would permit. That made her taller than the canines, though not wider. Her dress glimmered in the light, bare feet resting on a soil she could not feel. With only a torch to compete with the projector, she would look solid enough, pale skin and hair like a curtain of fire.
She wasn't surprised one of the guards threw a spear at her. Didn't so much as flinch as it passed through her body to slide harmlessly in the dust. The other of the guards was too frightened to strike. "I come as an emissary of peace," she said, high voice echoing from the speakers in both drones. It gave her tone a strange dissonance, one she hoped would heighten the mysticism. "Do you have a leader? I must meet with them at once."
"N-no," the nearest guard stammered, the one with the bravery to throw his spear. "N-no one comes in. Visitors trouble. Alpha say stay out. Ponies most of all."
Brigid advanced, her drones keeping pace behind her. The guards stumbled backward against the darkness of the burrow. Large though he was, the one that failed to throw his spear dropped it. At least they had the decency not to wet themselves. "I am not a pony; I am a good neighbor. It is customary to give me honor and hospitality. If you offend me, I might be forced to leave a curse instead of a blessing." She advanced again, focusing her attention on the braver of the two.
As she had hoped, his bravery won out and he charged her, massive muscles pounding and armor plates clanking. Her assault drone carefully selected an exposed portion of its belly, judging the trajectory and the precise force that would be required to stop the creature without killing it. It fired a single silent shot. Naturally the shot connected, and the guard tumbled into a spasmodic heap at her feet. She looked down as his body twitched wildly, making sure he was unconscious before she stepped through him.
"It's rude to strike a guest. Worse when you don't even know her name. Otherwise, how would you be sure that she wasn't really a friend?" She fixed her gaze on the remaining of the guards, eyes flickering with emerald flame. "The Alpha; I must speak with him at once." She advanced again, and this time she was sure her sensors had detected a flash of moisture and heat. Well, she couldn't blame him. "I have a gift for him. By custom, I must be permitted to speak to give it, and stay at least until sunrise."
The guard moved as if to run; she fired another round in front of him, this time a deafening flash-bang. He dropped to his knees in pain, covering his eyes and ears and moaning. The bang was loud enough that it echoed through the tunnel, reverberating into infinity. Bree was patient; she dropped to her knees beside him as her drones positioned themselves securely on the ceiling. Barking echoed through the burrows, along with pounding paws. Exactly as she had hoped. Let them try and ignore her now.
Maybe it was the sound of his comrades rushing towards them. Maybe the pain of the flashbang had been less acute than she anticipated. Whatever the reason, the more fearful of the guards was on his paws by the time the first reinforcements arrived.
The guards did not attack immediately, for which she was grateful. The more of these beings she had to shame, the more dissenting voices she would have to deal with when she was ruling them.
She barely listened as the guard who had greeted her mumbled out an explanation, even as two of the newcomers moved past her to hoist their fallen ally to his paws. She was more interested in the strange way they moved, seeming to be able to slide between four and two legs as easily as humans went from walking to running.
They seemed to be arguing, though as far as she was splitting her concentration she could barely hear them. It didn't really matter what they decided. If it wasn't the correct decision, she would persuade them.
Eventually, the guard she had spoken to most extensively turned away from his companions and advanced toward her, though he avoided her eyes. "We take you to Alpha."
She curtsied, letting her hair billow about her in the gesture. "Very gracious. What is your name? I would like to be able to recognize the one who first spoke with me, and made this diplomacy possible. When we have become great, your memory will be kept as well as mine."
"S-Spot," stammered the guard. Was that because there was a light-colored splotch of fur over one of his eyes?
"Well then Spot, lead the way. Your Alpha will be very pleased with you when he hears the news I have come to bring him."
* * *
Chance knew something was up the moment she turned onto her street.
It wasn't just the crowd of ponies milling about the library, all of them trying to act as though they belonged. What attracted them appeared to be a pair of gleaming chariots. Despite having never seen or heard of these chariots, Chance knew immediately what she was looking at; the transport of Equestria's diarchs.
She swallowed, forcing her hooves to lift one after another, driving her on toward whatever was waiting for her in the library. She passed through the crowd, which went no further than the Guard pegasi that surrounded the library in a loose circle. The nearest wore deep blue armor, with bat-like leathery wings that seemed almost transparent by sunlight. Did they always look this grumpy, or was it just that this pony had been roused to activity far too early for his preference?
She feared that perhaps she would be sent away. Instead, the nearest guards-pony just nodded at her, letting her approach the library without objection. This was her first sight of weapons since arriving in Equestria, spears gleaming in sheaths on the side of each pony. They weren't drawn; they didn't even look sharp.
Chance stopped at the door, though of course she knew it wouldn't be locked. Even with the door closed, she could feel the magic from within. Her horn might not be obeying her anymore, but that didn't mean it had stopped giving her information. She could not read magical fields as Twilight had been trying to teach her, not yet. She couldn't tell the difference between the schools of magic used in spells, or the length of time that spells would last.
She didn't need any of that dexterity to sense the overwhelming power waiting inside. It was that same power that raised the sun every morning and kept the stars on their courses. What were they both doing here?
She couldn't stand by the door forever. With a slow, deliberate gesture, she pushed out with a hoof, swinging the door to the library open.
The furniture of the library itself had been stacked and piled near the bookshelves, all the tables and benches cleared to leave the floor open. "I'm home," she squeaked, shrugging out of her saddlebags and hanging them from the hook. The little clicks her hooves made on the wood were as loud as mortar shells in the quiet, broken otherwise only by the clicking of a mechanical clock.
It wasn't as though she didn't know who was waiting here for her. Moving slowly wouldn't make it go away. She was excited to see Luna in person. As for Celestia, she could scarcely put her fear into words. Not only was she the being that literally caused the sun to rise in the morning, but she was also the one who had supplied Twilight with the spell to make Chance into a pony. In that sense, Chance owed her very existence to the monarch. Twilight had said she wasn't a god, but Twilight had lived around her most of her life.
Chance closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating on her horn and the perception of magical fields it gave her. The sensation was similar to being struck in the face with a brick, enough pain to make her gasp and stumble. They were here, waiting in the kitchen. The rulers of this entire country were waiting in her kitchen.
At least she wasn't caught by surprise when she walked in. Rather, she was already prepared to drop into a bow the instant they saw her, as elegant as her little body could manage. This elicited a chuckle from somepony, but since she wasn't looking up, she never saw who. "I imagine it would be difficult for us to speak if you remained like that, my little pony." The voice was unfamiliar; it had to be Celestia.
She glanced up, and saw something so white it seemed to glow. There was a hoof reaching for her, almost as though she wanted to shake. Chance rose, reaching out to take the offered hoof as she looked into eyes every color of the sun.
She was uncomfortable in the padded seat, her mind spinning with thoughts that were far afield from the concert hall that imprisoned her. A low murmur of conversation swept through the hall in waves as people waited for the performance to begin. Thunder rumbled above, as clouds poured down rain above the dome. Kimberly knew that was impossible, since the moon lacked an atmosphere, let alone stable weather systems, yet it didn't seem important to her.
No, what mattered was her frustration about being forced to be here when she could've been making a difference back in the lab. Beside her was Dr. Stefan."We don't have time to be here," she whispered. "I can't believe you talked the AI into forcing me to come to this."
"You're not an AI, Kimberly." Stefan grinned smugly. "You need rest. How can you save humanity if you don't understand why we're worth saving?"
That was a stupid argument, but she didn't have time to object. The lights dimmed, though the strange glow on her other side remained. A pair of performers stepped onto the stage, to a rumble of applause. A glittering woman in a glittering gown sat down behind a grand piano, while her more subdued male counterpart sat down beside her on a stool. He quietly tuned a violin of exotic wood, then fell silent again as the pianist's delicate hands began to dance across the keys.
Kimberly found her objections stilled, the sound of the storm above fading from prominence. After several seconds of introduction, the peal of violin began to echo in the concert hall. For the first time in months, icy logic gave way to something else. Hot tears slid down her face, the hall splintering into a thousand rainbows.
Chance found herself looking up into the face of Equestria's mightiest monarch. In the dying peals of an ancient violin, she watched Celestia wipe a tear from the corner of her eye, drying it with a foreleg. She turned and looked away from Chance, where Twilight watched anxiously from over the table. "We aren't too late."
Relief seemed to sweep through the room. Chance looked and saw Luna beside Twilight, no less regal than she had ever seemed in dreams. The Night Princess was resplendent in glittering silvery armor. Elegant plates covered her back and sides, while thin mail covered the intersection of joints. A sword glittered on her side.
"What was that?" No sooner were the words out than Chance wanted them back. So much for the respect due to a monarch! She blushed, her ears pressed flat and tail between her legs. Her first words to Princess Celestia and she couldn't get her hoof out of her mouth.
Twilight's eyes widened, though Celestia only chuckled. "I hope you'll forgive the intrusion, Second Chance. The test would not have been effective if you had time to prepare." The princess sat down beside the table, gesturing for Chance to do the same. The filly scrambled, tugging herself up onto her stool.
"What test, Princess?" At least she was using proper titles.
Luna answered from across the table, solemn as she spoke. "We needed to be certain anything remained to preserve. The spell calls up thy strongest memory of beauty."
"One of the most worrying symptoms of your condition is an inability to recognize and appreciate beauty. Compassion fails, charity fades, and kindness dies." She nodded. "Thank you for showing me that memory, my little pony. I had known humans could fight with honor; I did not know they could create such marvelous things."
"So we're not too late." Twilight sounded more fearful than Chance had ever heard her. "I don't mean to rush you, Princess, but if this is as serious as you explained to me, maybe we should talk about this after you're done."
Luna nodded. "That would be advisable. Dear sister, perhaps the tea we planned could wait for after."
Celestia looked across the table, considering Twilight's worried expression and Luna's concerned glances, then rose to her hooves again. "Very well. I apologize our first meeting has to be this unpleasant."
There was a rustling as the other ponies all around the room also rose. Twilight led the way out of the kitchen and back into the library proper. The tables and seats were all gone, leaving as much room as possible for the strange spell diagrams that had been written in charcoal on the wood.
"I... I've never seen a spell diagram like this," Chance mumbled, stopping at the edge as Luna levitated a sturdy wooden crate into the room and shut the door.
"It's from a school called Goetic magic, and I'm not surprised Twilight hasn't taught you. I would be concerned if she spent an apprentice's time on something so advanced and obscure."
Chance surveyed the complex symbols on the ground. Most of the runic forms were oblique to her, though two shapes she did recognize. The circle, commonly used in a great deal of spells, typically used to contain or restrain the forces being invoked. And from her human memories, the pentacle. Her human mind also supplied the meaning of the word. "Black magic?" As usual, she didn't dare meet Celestia's eyes. Even looking away she couldn't fail to see the cascading curtains of color that radiated from her as her mane shimmered. She felt many eyes on her then, the eyes of the most powerful beings in Equestria. Only Discord was missing. He could stay missing, since he was the reason they were here. If it hadn't been for him, all those dead memories would've stayed buried. Of course, Truth would also still be inactive.
"Not exactly, no." Luna's armor gleamed like stars as she worked, setting the intricate symbols into the floor with precision. "Though the practice hath been a favored technique of that sort. Perhaps it was likewise soiled in your world, and its acceptable practices faded."
Twilight had not switched on the lights, even though it was getting dark outside. Celestia and Luna were the lights. Celestia’s voice was somber. "There is nothing inherently dark about Goetica. Many of Equestria's most skilled practitioners of magic used the art in one form or another." The princess tilted her head to the side. "Twilight, perhaps you would like to explain while Luna and I complete our preparations for the spell."
Chance hadn't seen her guardian more frightened and nervous since the hospital. Such behavior did very little to settle her nerves. Still, the lavender Alicorn nodded. "Of course, Princess." She cleared her throat, stepping carefully around the runes and over to Chance. "Goetica means to draw out or to pull. Spells make abstractions within ponies into physical reality. For example, the wizard Starswirl was said to routinely draw out his self-doubt and fear into monsters he could confront in the real world. By conquering them in reality, he was able to overcome them within himself. Most unicorns over the years have only been able to summon relatively isolated parts of their psyche at a time. There are some theories that more powerful magic might be able to summon one's entire spirit at once, though I don't know of anypony who ever succeeded."
Luna levitated a large wooden chest into the room, which clanked and rattled with metallic sounds as she lowered it beside the diagrams. Chance turned her attention away from Twilight, looking between the princesses. "How does doing that help with my memories?"
A long, uncomfortable silence. Luna eventually answered, though for once it was her avoiding eye-contact and not Chance. "We may not have been... entirely forward with you, the other night. We did not wish to alarm you." She seemed to be expecting something from Chance. When the filly only stared, she went on. "It wasn't that the memories themselves give you sympathy with Outside Darkness. Your memories of that fel place are themselves an Outsider, intelligent and growing in strength and power. Were it not so, even your greatest sympathy would not have spawned the awful nightmares you suffered. It was that being that is even now sheltering somewhere in your mind. Discord released it, and now it festers and grows." She twisted slightly to one side as she levitated the lid open, and in that moment Chance saw her sword again, its sheath hanging close to her breast. Chance felt confident that it would be sharper than the spears of her guards.
Her sister continued where she left off. "This spell has three parts. The first is a truth spell, powerful enough to prevent anything from hiding its nature. The second is Goetica, which will draw out a physical representation of your spirit into the spell. This will include the corruption, hidden somewhere within. Within the circle, I will converse with the daemon we summon, goading it into revealing itself. It will have no choice; once we locate that part of your mind it intends to subvert, it will find its lies come into conflict with the truth of your being, and it will be separated. The third and final part of the spell is a gate, which we will use to return the being to its awful home."
"This spell is extremely dangerous, Chance." Twilight rested her head briefly on Chance's, and through the contact she could feel the mare was shaking. "We don't know how powerful the spirit has become. The last time one of them got into the mind of a pony, it caused a war. They're smart and old and clever. Worse, if it's spread too far..."
"I'll be going with it." Chance shivered too, pressing herself into her guardian's embrace. Twilight's wings enfolded her, tugging her close. The warmth of that instant seemed to go on forever. "It's okay, Twilight," she tried to comfort, her voice muffled. "I don't want to endanger Equestria. I know you're doing the right thing."
They broke apart, and Chance turned back to the circle. She saw the objects Luna had brought for the first time. They were manacles, five in all, with heavy chain connecting four to a central ring. Then came a lighter, silver chain stretching longer than the other segments, a single bright filament. This Luna offered to Celestia, who closed the delicate clasp about a foreleg. Not that Chance expected it to make a difference; the links of that section were so thin she was sure she could've easily pulled them apart if she wanted.
Chance half-expected the princess to clasp the manacles around her own hooves. She didn't, instead spreading them in the center of the runic pentacle. "What's that for?"
"To keep the creature from taking you with it when we banish it." Luna said, guiding Chance to stand at one of the five points of the pentacle. "We implore you not to cross the circle, Second Chance. The consequences should the creature be released will be most severe."
Celestia stood opposite her, her expression far more compassionate than Chance deserved. "I am sorry to subject you to this. If there were any other option, we would take it."
"I know." Chance took another look at the complicated spell. "You have to protect Equestria. I'm only a visitor."
"A welcome visitor," Twilight added, sitting beside her, though not close enough to touch. "It's your stowaway that's unwelcome."
Chance nodded. "I understand. We should... We should start, if it's okay. It's like a shot, right? The less you think about it, the less it hurts?"
Chance did not understand the words, but she found she didn't have to. This eldritch voice could command the forces of nature. Oldest of all Equestria's powers. She felt a strange pulling at her mind. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it also felt incredibly unnatural. Like being forced to use muscles she didn't know she had.
Gradually she became conscious of a glow in the center of the pentacle. She whimpered and began to scream as something pulled at her. Suddenly the pain was gone, and she was in two places at once. She stood inside the pentacle, looking down at a frightened green filly and several concerned ponies, smaller than she had imagined. Yet she was also looking up at the center of the pentacle, at a figure she had not expected to ever see again.
It was her, Dr. Kimberly Colven. She seemed to be made of moonlight, only just solid enough that she was not transparent. She had been short back on Luna-7, yet now she looked like a giant, towering over everypony except Celestia. Her hair was short in the style favored among the intelligentsia on Luna, whatever color her skin and hair might've had lost to the glow of her body. She dressed as Chance had always remembered her, in a sturdy lab coat and insulated flats, glasses perched on her nose and a tablet in her arms.
She found herself appreciating just how strange humans looked. Her wrists and neck didn't look thick enough to support her hands and head. Those legs seemed far too small to support such a lengthy body. Should she be alarmed that it had only taken a few months for her to find her own form strange?
The figure was her, and yet she wasn't. The filly was frightened and small, but she was also loved. She had friends, desires, passions. One of those was the mission she had been sent on, but it wasn't the only one.
The woman was tall and angular by comparison, and showed no fear in the presence of godlike magic. She loved no one, and nobody loved her. She felt no passion; her whole life was a calculation, determined to satisfy a decades-old heuristic that had long burned. She would save her species, but not because she cared.
"I am Princess Celestia, High Monarch of Equestria, protector of unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies. Will you obey me, spirit?"
"I will obey," the human answered, in monotonous English. Chance found her own lips moving involuntarily, echoing the words in the equestrian language. She wasn't conscious of choosing her response, exactly. It was like the spell she had felt in the hospital, but orders of magnitude more potent.
"Lock those manacles around your ankles, then the other two around your wrists. They will protect you."
Chance nodded – or her double did – clicking the metal clasps closed around her limbs one at a time. Then she rose, chains clanking loudly. Even though she knew the chains were for her protection, she couldn't help but look down at the cold metal links and feel like some sort of war criminal.
When she was done, Celestia continued. Aside from the two voices, the room had become dead silent. Maybe it was just in her imagination, but it didn't seem like the clock was ticking anymore. "I have told you who I am, who are you?"
"Kimberly Colven."
"Why have you come to Equestria, Kimberly?"
"To find a new home for my people."
"Did you plan to take our planet from us?"
The woman shook her head. "We did not expect it to be inhabited."
"Now that you know, will your species try to take the planet from us anyway?"
"No."
"Are you a pony, Kimberly, or are you something else?"
A pause, as the spirit seemed to consider that question. "Yes."
Celestia didn't miss a beat. "Very well, we will consider another subject. I understand from Discord that destruction is the ultimate fate of every intelligent race. Ponies survived with powerful magic, which your world lacks. How did you survive?"
"Rage, rage against the dying of the light." Fierce anger flickered in gray moonlight eyes, and the wiry woman gripped her tablet tighter in her arms, like a club she was about to swing.
"How? Did you fight with superior weapons?"
"All wars are civil wars, because all men are brothers."
Chance was far too engrossed by the strange out-of-body sensation that was every second of this conversation to notice much. Yet at that remark, she saw Luna nod sadly, as though it were the exact response she had been expecting.
"How, then?"
"Centuries of chains and lashes will not kill the spirit of man nor the sense of truth within him." Chance didn't know where her answers were coming from. She barely even felt like she was speaking. How were these acceptable answers, anyway?
"Did you help fight, Kimberly?"
"Yes."
"Did you ever kill?"
"For that cause We decreed for the Children of Israel that whosoever killeth a human being it shall be as if he had killed all mankind, and whoso saveth the life of one, it shall be as if he had saved the life of all mankind." What was she saying? Chance wasn't sure what meaning the princesses were taking from the spirit's answers. Wasn't it supposed to be her, somehow? Most of what Celestia had said about the magic had gone over her head.
"How did you fight, then?"
"Sacred Ilion was ash before I was old enough to take up the spear. Alexi took a sword, but it bore me down heavily, so I took up the forge-master's hammer instead." The words felt strange in Chance's mouth as she echoed them in Equestrian. More and more she found they weren't even familiar to her, and she understood what she was saying only because she could hear the English. She never disagreed with what the spirit said, though. It was speaking the truth, even if she didn't fully understand that truth.
"What do you think we should do, now that we know about your people?"
The change was subtle, marked by only one physical change at first. Chance stopped echoing the words in Equestrian.
"Humanity has proven itself undeserving of self-governance. There is evil buried in every survivor. If we had the means, we would still be making war. Murder and oppression has been the way of man since the beginning. We would be better off under a benevolent autocracy. We would be better off if you came to rule over us. You could make us more like Equestria. You could purify the darkness within every human soul."
Even Celestia was silent now, as she listened. Chance wanted to object, wanted to argue, but her lips wouldn't move. She couldn't scream, couldn't even force the being to stop talking. Though its existence traced only to magic, it was in control now. How was it saying things in a truth spell Chance didn't believe?
"You have the power to do it," it went on. "You couldn't save your sister, but you can save us. When Equestria's enemies finally turn on her, you'll have millions more ponies to fight for you. It's the only way."
Celestia nodded solemnly. Chance wanted to shout, to scream, but her voice wouldn't come. Whenever she opened her mouth to speak, the breath wouldn't come. She coughed and spluttered several times, though nopony seemed to notice. They were transfixed by the spirit, the spirit that seemed suddenly not to need her.
"I could show you how. I understand human technology; we could prepare your soldiers to counteract what dangers remain. Perhaps construct a barrier to restrict human interference with Equestria and the converted. Of course, something so elaborate wouldn't be necessary if you had a spell to counteract the radiation. Do that, and humanity would be forced to concede to your demands... the ones alive and worth saving, anyway. A few correct spells could dismantle the mechanical ones. They aren't really alive anymore, so it would be no great loss."
Where Chance got the will, she didn't know. She fought whatever force was constricting her lungs, fought until it felt like her throat was going to collapse, and she screamed. "Stop lying to her!"
"Relax, my little pony. I was not deceived." Her horn began to glow, white that twisted along the spiral and radiated inward on the spirit trapped within the runes.
The spirit that looked like Kimberly charged suddenly at the edge of the circle, tugging the chain along with her as she ran. Her hands extended, going straight for Chance's throat. "Traitor!" she bellowed. Whatever her intentions might've been, she struck the edge of the circle with a harsh impact on nothing, sparks showering through the air as she was flung violently backward. "You couldn't save them, 'Kimmy!'" She rose, smoke drifting from her body as though the whole thing were an ember. "Give your life to find humanity a second home, and it's already inhabited! So what, are you going to be a second Columbus? Bust out the smallpox, let's massacre a few million natives? Not just the wrong continent this time, wrong universe. You've already burned the ships!"
There was a sound like an implosion as Celestia completed her spell. Suddenly air was rushing inward, a downward spiraling vortex that rushed past her coat and nearly lifted her from her hooves. Chance backed up, bracing herself against the wood and keeping her body as low as possible. Her ears popped, and there was an ear-splitting crash from all around her as every window in the library imploded. Fortunately the glass was too heavy to be carried far, though plenty of large shards had stuck in walls and bookshelves in the direction they had been pointing. The wall just above Chance's own head became peppered with it, and she found herself thankful that she was still a filly.
Within the circle, the spirit seemed to be feeling Celestia's spell most strongly of all. She was stretched out horizontally in the air, held only by the chain in Celestia's grip and the manacles on her own body. She screamed in terror, a terror Chance found herself suddenly able to see again. Something dark was draining from her body, a nebulous mass that struggled vainly against her before being ripped away. She followed the mist with her eyes, and suddenly wished she hadn't. Between Chance herself and the spirit whose eyes were hers again was a point of complete blackness, a singularity that twisted and pulled all light around it. Space itself seemed twisted and misshapen, curving the room at odd angles when she saw.
She screamed louder, and kept screaming right up until the moment when the mist had stopped draining from her, and the darkness in the air collapsed with a tremendous bang. She stayed on the ground, eyes closed and shivering. The strange duality to her vision ended as Celestia's hoof broke the runes around the circle, ending the spell. The filly found herself feeling drained and weak, as though she had gone days walking without sleep. She could barely even muster the energy to feel relief.
Why was she warm? She cracked open one eye to see Twilight had wrapped her in another embrace, holding her close enough that it might've hurt if she had the energy left to feel pain. "You did it," came her voice, quiet in her ear. "It's over, Chance. You were very brave."
She thought about that lengthy scientist, body stretched by a lifetime in moon-gravity, and how grown-up and adult she had been. Yet for all that she knew what she had been, it no longer felt like something she was, anymore. Was that good? Bad? She didn't know. She did know that however afraid she had been, being with Twilight made everything better. So she cried, cried into that violet coat until she didn't have a tear left in her body.