Synthetic Bottled Sunlight

by NorrisThePony

Orange Aerial Sky Pollution (XXIII)

i

The cold was nearly overpowering.

Twilight hadn’t wanted to cast spells while she’d been hiding in the nearly deserted cargo chambers of the rumbling airship, but she’d had to settle for nursing a small orb of warmer air immediately around her. Still, she could see her breath rising and falling despite her best efforts, and without a sense of time or distance, the entire affair quickly became quite excruciating.

“Nightmare?” she’d whispered into the silence, hoping the black alicorn would appear to, at the very least, provide her with some company.

Nothing.

The Sunstone was still pulsing in her hooves whenever she took it out of her saddlebags, but her appearances with Nightmare Moon seemed to have been limited to the dreamscape still. For weeks, Twilight hadn’t seen her anywhere but, and it seemed even at the end of the world that remained unchanged.

She let out another sigh. No, this wasn’t the end of the world. She was getting ahead of herself. Celestia would be there, waiting for her with a smile on her face. She would be fine. Everypony would be fine. No matter what happened, she’d fix this. Or, if it came down to it, they would.

Nearly two hours into her flight--or, what felt to her like two hours, anyways--there was finally some movement. Twilight could hear their hoofbeats on the floor above, along with loud shouting too echoed for her to make out the proper meanings of until the metal door into the airship’s cargo bay was forcibly shoved open. Twilight quickly extinguished her horn and skittered behind a crate tightly bound up in cellophane.

“Get the gangplank open!” A stallion was loudly shouting, and Twilight heard the sound of heavy industrial machinery whirring to life. Life returned to the cargo hold with drama, the whistling of the outside wind overpowering any sound, and the bright light of arctic whiteout causing Twilight’s eyes to water.

The gangplank was thankfully slammed shut again, silence returning to the cargo hold. Somepony was panting, and Twilight afforded herself a nervous glance to see who had just entered.

A pegasus. She was wearing goggles and a respirator, and she was coated almost completely in frost and ice. There were three other ponies in the cargo hold besides her--all guards, two unicorns, and one pegasus, every one bearing what Twilight believed to be bolt-action rifles.

The pegasus simply sat for several seconds, panting, before producing a battered badge out of her ice-coated bomber jacket. With shaking hooves, she wrenched off the respirator. “C-Commander Lightning Dust, Wonderbolts. Y-you guys better be heading North.”

“Where you comin’ from, Commander?” The rifles stayed trained on the pegasus. She eyed the barrels as she struggled to catch her breath, glancing back towards the gangplank as though suddenly preferring the outside blizzard a more tempting alternative.

“Easy there. Who sent you? Thundercloud?”

“Give us an answer, mare. The Frozen North is off-limits to civilians, you’re not supposed to be here.”

Lightning Dust rose an eyebrow. “The Industry pays me to be there. Relax and put the feather-flippin' guns down.”

The rifles were lowered at that, the three guards sharing a glance.

“She must be from the SunTrotter,” The pegasus guard said, somewhat hushed.

“Alright, come with us back to the bridge, Commander Dust.” One of the unicorn guards said. “Start tellin’ us what in Tartarus happened.”

“Wasn’t in the room when it happened, so I’ll do my best,” Commander Lightning Dust said, still shaking snow out of her mane and tail.

As she followed the three other guards back up the stairwell into the airship, Twilight felt her blood go cold as Lightning Dust’s gaze strayed over to Twilight’s hiding spot.

The sound of the pegasi’s hoofbeats on the gangplank ceased. The two locked eyes. Twilight quickly yanked her head and tail back into cover, but she knew it was too late.

“Got a problem there, Commander?” Another pair of hoofbeats, getting louder now, as one of the guards trotted back towards her.

“No, no,” Lightning Dust replied. “Just catching my breath.”

There was silence, for several seconds. Then, the guard spoke up again, and the tone of his voice was enough to make Twilight wince.

“Stars and spirits…” The sound of the rifle being raised. “There’s a pony in here! You, come out right now!”

Twilight contemplated teleporting out into open air instead, for all but a moment, before she rose to her shaking hooves. As she emerged into plain sight, she could see that every rifle was pointed at her now.

“Please don’t shoot. I’m not here to hurt anypony.”

The guard glared at Lightning Dust, for all but a moment, the barrel of the rifle never leaving Twilight’s snout. “Who in Tartarus are you? What are you doing here?”

“Probably lookin’ for the Princess.” Lightning Dust spoke up. “Same as you’s, I hope. Everypony, just stay calm.”

“You’ve seen her?” Twilight exclaimed. For a moment, she forgot entirely about the rifles pointed at her--Lightning Dust was instantly the only pony that mattered. “Where?!”

“She showed up outta the blue to save our hides,” Lightning Dust said. “She’s holdin’ down the fort further north. Would be a buncha frozen corpses if it weren't for her.”

“Both of you, bridge. Now.” The guard growled out. This time, both she and Lightning Dust were marched up the metal stairwell leading into the airship’s bridge, flanked from their front and rears by guards.

The Frozen North was sprawled out in front of her as she was led into the white light of day within the airship’s windowed control bridge. The ship was flying into a furious-looking blizzard, black and white at the same time, as heavy plumes of smoke belched into a swirling tempest of snow and wind.

It rose to the heavens and was lost into the enveloping ceiling of cloud a dozen kilometres up. Like a tornado, but built from smoke and snow, swirling upwards into the cloud cover. The entire sky to the north was the same raging, roiling tempest, and it looked to Twilight like the end of Equestria itself.

“What in Tartarus did you do?” she breathed out. She was harshly led away from Lightning Dust once they entered the bridge. There were two more ponies manning the controls, and both turned to stare as they were both led in.

“Found this one stowed away in the cargo hold.” The guard escorting Twilight shoved an inhibitor onto her horn. “Which one of you was in charge of inspecting it before takeoff?”

“That’s Twilight Sparkle.” The earth pony manning the airship’s controls gawked. “That journalist mare.”

“What did you do to the Sun, huh?” Twilight glared back to Lightning Dust, who was being treated only marginally less like a prisoner compared to Twilight herself.

Lightning Dust frowned, looking from Twilight to the guards still gripping their rifles tightly in their wings or their magic. “Kind of a long story, miss. I’m sure you’ll be findin’ out soon enough.”

“What did you do to Celestia?”

“Celestia is fine. She’s back there, helpin’ some of the crew of the--”

“That’s quite enough out of you, Wonderbolt.” The guard watching Twilight said. “Last thing we need is you talking to a sunblasted journalist. What the hell are you doing here, anyways?”

“I teleported in. Y’think I’m just going to let you cover up what happened up here?” She forced out a laugh.

“Uh huh. Not the best plan. Give me a good reason why we shouldn’t just let you off here and let you figure out where to go.”

“‘Cause landing in this is suicide, for starters.” Lightning Dust piped up. She started across the airship’s claustrophobic bridge towards Twilight, regarding the mare with a look that seemed to border on sympathy. “And I’m sure as hell not gonna be in the room when you break it to the Princess why you thought that was a good idea. Not to mention you’re going to need every bit of help you can get for what’s coming. No, I think you’d be best leaving the unicorn the hell alone.”

“Thank you.” Twilight gave Lightning Dust a single nod.

“As for what happened…” Lightning Dust nodded her head towards the horrifying scene facing them out the airship cabin’s long bow window. “Figure that’s gonna be somethin’ all of Equestria is going to be findin’ out about, no matter what you try to do here. Though, you are armed pretty heavily for a first-responder crew. Probably weren’t expectin’ the Princess to beat you there, were ya? Kinda puts a wrench in your plans.”

There was some nervous shuffling of rifle barrels, hastily pointed away from Twilight and Lightning and back towards the floor. Lightning Dust afforded herself a smug smile at the sight.

As they approached the tempest ahead of them, Twilight could feel the airship itself starting to react to the furious swirling winds around them. The craft shuddered and shook and the sounds of the howling winds grew louder, and the heavy engines she’d seen on the sides of the ship had shifted in pitch to an ear-splitting whine. The pilots of the airship continued to talk in whispered secrecy as they brought the ship down towards the icy plains, and as they approached Twilight could gradually make out their destination.

“Respirators on.” Lightning Dust spoke up, replacing her own and taking in a deep breath of filtered air. “Smoke’s toxic, and it’s out of control.”

They were quickly passed around the airship bridge, and thankfully Twilight was deemed deserving of one herself. She had just enough time to struggle to put it on with just one hoof and no magic before the inflamed facility ahead of them had replaced the furious tempest of smog it had caused.

When the airship had landed on a narrow strip half-covered in snow, she hadn’t hesitated. It’d been a foolish, silly attempt, but she’d made it all the same. Her horn lit, and the inhibitor around her horn bit back at her. It hurt like nothing she’d felt before, but she’d been expecting that much.

Celestia had told her. One of her more difficult nights, her slumber infested by horrid reminders of her imprisonment and torture. Twilight had nuzzled her snout into Celestia’s barrel as she’d shakily recounted tales of attempted escape and frenzied confusion...

With a mighty flash, Twilight appeared in the common area of the SunTrotter Facility. Her violently unkempt mane was coated in the ash remains of the horn inhibitor. She could hear the airship outside still in the process of landing, but she didn’t wait for it.

She tore through derelict halls with her horn lit. The howling of the wind was overpowering. There was no light save for the light of her horn, and she could have sworn she’d seen movement in her peripherals the entire sprint through the strange and confusing structure. Whether it was rolling smoke, snow, or something else, she didn’t know. She didn’t care--Celestia was somewhere in here, in all of this.

She found her, eventually. In a raised structure, separated by a metal staircase.

She was unconscious, and she wasn’t alone. In presence, nor in senselessness. There were at least five ponies, all gathered close to Celestia and lying down on the floor of a control room already starting to ice over from the elements outside.

Twilight was already sobbing as she reached for Celestia’s hoof. Cold, but everything was. A numbing, paralyzing chill, spreading out in a swirling hurricane of smog.

She gripped Celestia’s hoof tight and brought her magic to life. As she had before. As she had in the catacombs when she’d been certain she would lose her.

Her magic was still there. Her heartbeat, faint and fading, but hadn’t that always been better than nothing at all? Lucidity and consciousness were a flame Twilight couldn’t stoke, and so she held onto Celestia instead, in her magic and in her hooves. She was still sobbing and grasping Celestia’s hoof even as the airship crew found them. They tried to pry her away from the alicorn’s unconscious form and received a feral snarl by way of response from Twilight. Their voices sounded like they were coming from beyond a tunnel to Twilight, but she was able to make out a few scattered words.

Airship. Canterlot. Hospital. Help.

They’d loaded Celestia onto a stretcher, and several of the ponies that had been in the control room had already begun to stir as they quickly scurried back to the waiting airship. Only one was somepony Twilight recognized, and it had taken her a moment--solemn fear wasn’t something she’d ever seen in Spoiled Rich’s expression before.

They didn’t waste any time leaving the smouldering facility behind. They were talking about it, urgently and fearfully, but Twilight found it difficult to really focus on their conversation. She stayed by Celestia’s side, still gripping her hoof and sobbing gently into her white fur and smoke-stained mane.

ii

The Sun didn’t set until long past midnight.

And then, when it came time for another morning in Equestria, the night remained unbroken.

Nopony had wanted to be the first to say it, but Twilight had known even from the shelter of the New Canterlot General Hospital waiting room that the Fourth Longest Night had officially begun.

The flight back South was quick--they had the wind at their backs, which wasn’t exactly good for Equestria as a whole but was at least good for Celestia in the present. The airship had headed for the hospital immediately without making any other stops, and Twilight had watched as Celestia was quickly wheeled away from her and into the depths of the mighty stone building by a gaggle of nurses and doctors. Twilight wasn’t allowed to follow, and so she’d settled down for the long wait inside the clean and well-furnished waiting room.

The other ponies in the SunTrotter were taken into intensive care alongside Celestia, while Twilight, Lightning Dust, and the rest of the airship crew were subjected to an embarrassingly communal shower together to eliminate the last traces of smog clinging to their coats and manes.

It was 3:37 PM when Twilight finally made it back into the waiting room, settling down to wait for the moment she could see Celestia again.

Nightmare Moon still hadn’t arrived. Twilight hadn’t been able nor willing to go to sleep to join her, and so she’d stayed as close to Princess Celestia as the nurses would let her. She’d been amongst the first to arrive for such a goal, but certainly not the last. Twilight had very quickly realized she’d be unable to claw her way through droves of belligerent hospital staff to stay by Celestia’s side, her fight for her life apparently something she would have to combat on her own. Twilight instead watched from the waiting room as the message trickled its way through Equestria, reporters shuffling their way into the isolated South Wing of the New Canterlot Hospital.

The entire time, she’d been waiting for Shining. Where in Tartarus was he? Surely the telephone services in Griffonstone weren’t that bad?

More reporters--peers, as rarely as Twilight herself actually got to see them--meant she couldn’t really show her emotions besides a great many wavering drags of the rest of her pack of cigarettes. She’d wanted to be angry at her brother and cry out in worry for her lover, but she could do neither with so many ponies wanting to know what she herself had seen.

She’d asked to be left alone. As politely and as calmly as she could, but she knew her annoyance was clear.

They hadn’t given a damn for Celestia while she’d been living. Now, here they were as she was rumoured to be dying. These journalists had spent their entire careers ridiculing Twilight and calling her a freak--a disgrace to her profession--and now here they were trying to be her friends. It was despicable.

Eventually, though, it was an internal little war she hadn’t had to fight alone. Raven Inkwell, Prince Blueblood, and a beautiful mare who’d called herself Rarity, had all arrived less than an hour after Twilight had.

Raven Inkwell had been first, trotting over to Twilight and announcing her presence with a quick and gentle little nudge of her snout on Twilight’s shoulder. “Twilight. You’re alright.”

“Raven.” Twilight blinked. She snuffed out her cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

“Celestia sent Philomena.” Raven withdrew a crumpled note from her saddlebag, jotted down in Celestia’s signature cockatrice-scratch. A simple and brief please for help. “I came as soon as I knew where they were treating her.”

“They have her under intensive care right now. I tried as hard as I could to get through, but--” Twilight trailed off as Raven squeezed her eyes shut, giving a few quick nods of her head.

“Gods above. Celestia…” Raven whispered, more to herself than to Twilight. “How was she when you saw her? Do you know what happened?”

Twilight was silent for a moment. “They have everypony except me in for questioning right now. It was a-a building. It’d been destroyed when we showed up, and Celestia was in some sort of control room. There were ponies… scientists, I guess..? And… and I guess she was protecting them.”

“Some sort of SunTrotter thing,” Raven said it like it was a curse word to her. “You can see the damned smoke from half across Equestria, but nopony knows what it is.”

It was at this point that Blueblood and his wife had arrived, and Raven had stood up to greet him with a solemn little hug. Rarity had looked to Twilight instead, and to Twilight’s shock had mirrored Blueblood’s gesture herself.

“Miss Rarity. I heard about your marefriend…” she said. Her voice was kind and compassionate, and her hooves wrapped around Twilight as though the act were effortless. “I’m so sorry, darling.”

Twilight had been taken aback, but thankfully, Rarity’s comfort hadn’t demanded a response.

The hug was enough, and Twilight found herself grateful for it after it had ended. Blueblood, amazingly, had reciprocated his wife’s warm response, in his own aloof way. He gave Twilight a single nod instead. “Twilight Sparkle. You’re alright?”

Twilight let out a long exhale. “N-no. Not really. I’m worried sick about her.”

Blueblood’s ears sunk, and he gave a few little nods of his head. “They’re saying something happened to the North. Something the Industry did.”

“Twilight says they tried to steal the Sun from Celestia,” Raven said, swishing her tail. “Emphasis on ‘tried’, from the sound of things.”

“Official word from the State is to stay indoors with the windows down,” Blueblood replied. “Apparently we’re safe in the shadow of Canterlot Mountain, but I don’t know how much stock I’d put in that being true.” He let out a sigh, bringing a hoof to the bridge of his snout and shaking his head slowly. “How was the Princess, Twilight? When you last saw her.”

“Unconscious. But she was breathing. Nurses won’t tell me when they’ll be finished.”

“Doubt they even know,” Raven said, pawing at the carpet. “I… I guess we wait, then.”

And together, they waited. The traffic within the waiting room continued to grow until the nurses began escorting ponies out, and then more ponies continued to leave on their own vocation when it became obvious that Celestia would be a rather pitiful interview target in her present state even when they could see her.

Sundown came, but the event itself did not. Six PM and the sky outside still looked like noon. Rarity excused herself politely shortly after, and her husband followed suit an hour later, wishing Twilight and Raven both good luck.

Eight PM, and Raven had since left for and returned with a take-out meal for Twilight and herself.

Midnight, and the Sun had finally started to set. Raven had fallen asleep, and Twilight had stayed awake. She’d paced the waiting room’s outdoor promenade, casting glances at Luna’s Moon still standing vigilant in the midnight sky. She took out the Sunstone, stroking the cold gem with a hoof.

“Nightmare, please. Please answer me.”

Nothing.

She called Shining’s apartment from a payphone.

Nothing.

She wept in the waiting room bathroom for several minutes, cleaned herself up, and rejoined Raven’s gently slumbering form.

Six AM, and the Sun did not rise. The first truly sunless day of Equestria had begun. Reporters arrived by nine, and left disappointed when the nurses told them that they would not be permitting any visitation besides those close to Celestia herself. Raven had made another pilgrimage for food, returning with coffee and bagels and a grim, shaken look on her face.

“What?” Twilight asked.

“It still looks like Tartarus out there.” Raven levitated a styrofoam coffee cup to Twilight. “You can smell it in the air. Like sulfur. I don’t know where I’m going to stay, because I don’t think I trust going back up to Old Canterlot with that stuff hanging over.”

“Me neither. Wonder if they’ll order an evacuation.” Twilight accepted the coffee in her own magic and took a long swig, realizing as she did just how tired she was. Apparently, Raven could see it, too, because her expression turned sympathetic as she watched Twilight down her coffee.

“Y’know, if you wanna try and get some rest, I can wake you up if anything changes.”

“What kind of Crown Minister would I be, sleeping on the--” Twilight yawned. “...On the job…?”

Raven smiled, calmly and patiently. “One that’s at least well-rested enough to be of some service to the Princess.”

“C-couldn’t fall asleep even if I wanted to.” Twilight shook her head. “Feel worthless, just sitting here.”

“Celestia’s lucky to have you and don’t you dare suggest otherwise.” Raven gave Twilight a look somewhere between stern and reassuring. “Why don’t you at least try to get some rest? I’ll be right here. I’ll wake you up if anything changes. You have my word.”

Despite her initial worries, sleep found Twilight with ease.

It was short-lived and dreamless, though, and it didn’t seem like long before her eyes fluttered back open an hour later to the familiar golden shine of Royal Guard armour. She jerked herself awake with frenzied excitement, but it dissipated somewhat when she saw the expression of the pony rousing her into consciousness.

Aura Gleam. She was frowning, and holding her helmet to her chest in a hoof. Beside her, Raven was looking at the floor, her expression a mixture of intense anger, and intense sorrow.

“Twilight… I… I don’t…” Aura Gleam’s register was low enough that Twilight had to perk an ear to hear her better. The strong-willed, confident Royal Guard Warrant Major Twilight had nearly been looking up to yesterday was gone. “I have terrible news for you, Twilight. Your… brother was killed yesterday. We found him in the wreckage of the SunTrotter explosion this morning. I’m so sorry.”

For the third time in less than two days, Twilight felt the world end around her. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

“Twilight, I’m so sorry,” Aura whispered again, as much for herself as for Twilight. “I’m so, so sorry…”

“No. Please… no.”

She was dreaming, still.

She was going to wake back up next to Raven in the waiting room proper. She’d have to yell at Nightmare Moon as soon as she saw her again for even thinking this was an appropriate thing to do to her even as a joke...

The tears streaming down her face felt real, though. The look of defeat and profound sorrow on Aura Gleam’s face--Twilight didn’t think her mind was even capable of producing such a thing on its own. The strange and confusing mixture of hatred and sadness on Raven’s… suddenly it made far more sense to Twilight, now.

Suddenly, Twilight wanted to run. She wanted to teleport away, and not ever teleport back. To run and run and run until Equestria and the SunTrotter and Celestia and Shining Armor and Twilight Sparkle were little more than ideas in her head.

She made it as far as the hospital waiting room bathroom, instead. She melted the door handle with her magic, locking herself in and collapsing in a heap on the polished tile floor.

It was too much.

All of it, just… too much.

More than ever before in her life, Twilight Sparkle didn’t want to be alive anymore.

Her eyes grazed on herself in the mirror, and she realized she hated it. Not the mirror itself, but the stupid and worthless mare looking back at her through it. She hadn’t been able to save Celestia, and now, her brother had fallen victim to her worthlessness, too.

It still felt surreal. Like a horrible nightmare that she wanted desperately to awaken from, but the waking world never came. Instead, she felt her horrible reality crystallizing with every hour she spent alone in the waiting room bathroom. Outside the walls, the skies were decaying. Something terrible to the far North had wrapped itself around Celestia, threatening to choke the last bit of life from the Princess who had only ever wanted to try and spread kindness and fairness to her ponies.

How was it fair? How could this have happened in an Equestria that Twilight had been told as a filly would always be there for the ponies who needed it?

What the hell was the point of any of it, if this was what always happened? What was the point of friendship or compassion or understanding or peace, if it took the greed of a few to tear it all away and fling them back into darkness? They would’ve been better falling to Nightmare Moon, or Chrysalis, or Tirek. At least then, it would’ve been swift. At least then, they wouldn’t have been slowly suffocated by their own skies and poisoned by their own water.

Eventually, though, she had to leave. Shining Armor stayed dead no matter how hard she wept, and Celestia was still out there. Still alive, for whatever little that might have been worth. Too many times, she’d watched Celestia shove down her own grief and continue dragging herself forward to some noble goal. She supposed that if she were to ever be a fraction of them are Celestia was, she would have to do the same.

The first thing she said to Aura Gleam--who had been waiting patiently for her on the other side, quick to redirect her undivided focus on Twilight--was a bitterly growled question.

“Who is responsible?”

Aura Gleam frowned. “For your brother's passing?”

“For my brother’s murder. That’s what it is, right?”

“I don’t… I don’t know why he was there, Twilight. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“They were forcing him to be there. Same thing they did to Celestia. I know they were. And they’re going to pay. I’m going to make sure every single one of those bastards pays.”

Aura Gleam sighed. “I… I guess I’m in charge of investigating that, now. I g-guess I’m…” The unicorn guardsmare closed her eyes, bringing a hoof to the bridge of her snout and letting out a long breath. “I’m sorry, Twilight. I’ll… get you some names as soon as I can. I'm sure you want to interview them.”

“We rescued some ponies alongside Celestia. I want to talk to them first.”

“They’re in intensive care right now, same as her.”

“Good,” Twilight said firmly, tail swishing. “That means they’re not going anywhere.”

The idea of direction gave the billowing sorrow within her some pause. She’d replace it with anger and hatred for now, because then at least she’d be getting someplace. What good was she, lying worthless on the tiles of some bathroom floor? She’d have time to mourn her brother when the ponies responsible for stealing him had been made to pay. They'd been so close before the SunTrotter Incident, and she wasn't about to let them lose the traction they'd been gaining.

She knew Celestia would have made her reconsider letting anger and hatred direct her, but Celestia wasn't here to stop her because of those ponies. She couldn’t hear Nightmare Moon, but part of her knew the alicorn would have approved all the same.

And for all the wisdom Twilight attributed to Celestia, Nightmare Moon had been her teacher, too. She wasn't about to just discard that.

It was dinner time when one of the intensive care nurses finally emerged to collect Raven and Twilight. The poor earth pony mare looked positively exhausted, likely having been awake and on her hooves for at least as long as Twilight had been minus the short little nap she’d taken. Still, even despite her exhaustion, she afforded Twilight a somber little greeting smile, bowing her head to the two unicorns.

“Princess Celestia has been moved to a room,” the earth pony nurse said, her voice quiet and kind. “She’s still unconscious, but… well, I figure you’d like to see her?”

Eagerly, they followed her down long sterile corridors into the intensive care ward, every nurse and janitor seeming to call themselves to attention as Twilight and Raven passed. Twilight spotted a few ponies she recognized from the airship ride away from the SunTrotter in their own rooms--Lightning Dust, staring out a window at the darkling skies. A glasses-wearing unicorn staring at the ceiling of her room, ghostly indifference on her face. The look of a mare who hadn't just seen the apocalypse, she had accidentally ushered it in. She looked around for Spoiled Rich, but couldn’t see her in any of the rooms with open doors. Perhaps she’d specifically requested privacy. Some darker part of her hoped she was currently bunking in the morgue, instead of a room, though she knew that wouldn’t bode well for Celestia’s own struggles.

A doctor was waiting for them at Celestia’s room when the nurse finished leading them. He gave Twilight a sympathetic look and wasted no time leading her into Celestia’s room.

And there she was. The Former Princess of Equestria, in all her glory, asleep in a hospital bed with tubes snaking their way into her snout and limbs.

“Twilight Sparkle. I’m so sorry for making you wait,” the doctor was saying, though Twilight was only partially paying attention as she dropped down before Celestia, fishing for her hoof amidst the hospital bed blankets and gripping it tightly. It was cold, as though Twilight were holding the hoof of a mannequin.

“Is she okay?” Raven asked before Twilight could.

“She’s on oxygen right now. We did a series of x-rays and found signs that she underwent some manner of cardiac arrest that has put her into a comatose state. Likely a result of overuse of her magic. Worse, we also found onset signs of some manner of pneumoconiosis that is... difficult to trace to any predictable source as of now.” He produced the relevant x-rays for Raven to look at, but Raven seemed more focused on the machinery carrying out Celestia’s respiratory functions. “She must have suffered her cardiac arrest shortly before you found her. Any later, and it's unlikely she would be alive."

“Pneumoconiosis...” Twilight whispered, finally looking away from Celestia and back to the doctor himself. “That’s... a lung disease, right?”

“Yes. Separate from her coma, but no less dire. Several other ponies that you and the guard recovered seem to be showing similar signs in varying degrees of severity.”

Twilight felt tears welling in her still-reddened eyes, and she promptly squeezed them shut. “Is it reversible?”

She already knew the answer, of course. But she needed to hear it anyway.

“No. I’m sorry. The best we can do is try to clear her lung passageways and prevent further damage. However, this sort of disease typically develops over years of toxin exposure, and Celestia likely only has several hours' worth of exposure by comparison. For it to have developed so quickly is... alarming. In this specific case, we are dealing with a mixture of toxins that we are as of right now unsure as to the exact nature and severity of, but their impact on Celestia’s lungs seems clear in the x-rays we’ve done.”

“Oh, Celestia…” Raven was at Twilight’s side now, too, both huddled over the comatose alicorn like some pair of priestesses at an altar.

“She goes in for more treatment tomorrow. I… wish I could tell you how long I expect her comatose state to last, but I truthfully have no idea. We've monitored slight increases in heart rate following physical stimuli, but no physical reaction.” The doctor gave the two mares a look of concern. Twilight was acutely aware of his intentional refusal to look out the window at the still-dark daytime sky. “You two are welcome to stay as long as you want until we have to take her in.”

After the doctor had left them in private, Raven had allowed herself to cry. Gently, and without sound, and concealed in her own private and somewhat embarrassed way, like a mother might cry out of fear of their foals overhearing.

Twilight had wanted to do the same, but the fury that had taken a hold of her earlier had returned. She dismissed herself to Raven and to a Celestia who would never hear her, and started into the hallway of the ICU once again. Fury had made her want to visit Spoiled Rich first, but the two guards posted outside her closed doors very swiftly shut down any chance of that happening.

It was probably a blessing in disguise, she figured, given her current circumstance and her current emotional state. Celestia needed her on top of things--a sane mare preventing a spiral into chaos. She certainly didn’t need her Crown Minister-to-be locked away in a jail cell after assaulting an older mare in a hospital ward. It was frustrating, being barred away from answers and the chance to vent her emotions, but that was much of Twilight’s professional life anyways.

She walked through the halls of the ICU in a daze, before vaguely realizing that her path was taking her back to the waiting room. That was alright, she wanted to take a look outside, anyways. It had been nearly two days since she’d breathed in air from the outside, and though they’d passed in a blur, it did still feel nice to exit into the cool early autumn air. There was a long veranda that snaked its way around a courtyard outside the hospital wing, and Twilight made her way to a quiet spot to settle down and watch the streets of New Canterlot. The streetcars still weren’t running, and there weren’t many carriages passing through the rain-soaked streets--perhaps a stay-at-home order was in effect, Twilight thought.

True to Raven’s claims, the air did indeed have a strange scent to it. Not unlike the factories in Old Canterlot or the outskirts of New Canterlot, but distinct all the same. Twilight had never been alive through a major volcanic eruption, but she imagined the scent must have been similar. A putrid, ashen smell, interspersed with a thick diesel. The source was unmistakable--even amongst the vivid skyglow above New Canterlot, she could see the long plumes of smoke snaking their way over the ceiling of the sky kilometers above. Canterlot Mountain, normally visible from most places in Equestria, was lost to a dense black cloud cover that obscured the majority of the mountain’s peak.

The Moon had been nudged out of view by the Sun’s strange orbit. She couldn’t really see it through the skyglow, but she could feel it below the horizon all the same. Breathing out a long sigh through her snout, she donned the Sunstone crown atop her head and cast out her magic, searching for the Sun amidst Equestria’s chaotically unnatural night sky.

She found it rather quickly, but that had always been the easiest part. It was still there, the Industry fools had at least not banished it completely, but it felt… dimmer, than when she’d last felt it alongside Celestia. Or perhaps it was simply further away, she had no idea.

Her horn pulsed, and nothing happened. She could feel the Sun, and it was immovable. It was as though she were attempting to whittle down a planet sized sphere of steel using nothing but a pegasi’s feather. The attempt felt so utterly pathetic to Twilight that she could have laughed, although she found herself weeping quite suddenly instead.

Celestia had made it look so easy. Some foolish part of her had desperately hoped that her tutelage had meant something, but now Twilight knew that if it ever had, it simply wasn’t enough.

She rose the Moon instead. It wasn’t time, but she didn’t care. The Equestrian skies needed something looking over them, even if it was a pale shadow of the Sun’s glory. Wiping her eyes clean, Twilight made her way back inside with a defeated sigh, already thankful to be away from the wretched smell of the SunTrotter’s influence.

Raven was still in Celestia’s room when Twilight returned, though she seemed to be in the process of gathering her jacket and saddlebags.

“Hey, Twilight. I’ve… I’ve gotta go back to Old Canterlot and get Philomena. Think I’m probably going to check into a hotel someplace down here, and you're welcome to stay with me. Is there anything from the library you maybe want while I’m getting my stuff?” Raven scratched her mane with a hoof nervously. “It, ah… might be awhile before you’re able to go back, after all.”

Was there? Twilight couldn’t think of anything she really wanted. Besides her brother, and she knew better than to go thinking anything quite so silly.

There was likely a dozen things Twilight could have used, but she couldn’t think straight enough to remember them. She shakily told Raven no, and then watched as if through blurred glass as the older unicorn said her farewells and vanished into the hall, leaving her alone.

Or, not alone. Not really. It felt horrible, being in a room with Celestia and not having the Princess to proudly stand beside. She’d seen Celestia crumble and fall in the Fields of Hayseed, and the Catacombs, and onto Twilight’s barrel after a long day of visiting the factories, but this felt different. Perhaps, Twilight thought, it was the hospital room backdrop itself. This was a place for sick and injured and dying ponies. It wasn’t a place for Celestia.

Or, at least, it shouldn’t have been.

She brought her chair close to Celestia, and took her cold white hoof in her own. She nuzzled her head against Celestia’s unconscious side, and she did her best to imagine Celestia wrapping her wing around her as she was so fond of doing. Perhaps when she awoke, she’d awake next to Celestia stroking her mane and telling her everything would be okay. Perhaps she’d wake from this damned nightmare already. Even as unconsciousness swept over her, it was the last hope before sleepless dreams took her.

A nurse woke her at dawn. Or, whatever passed as dawn, anyways. The nurse had gently but firmly prodded Twilight back into consciousness, her eyes fluttering open to an empty hospital bed and pale moonlight shining in through the window. The nurse calmly told Twilight that she had to go--Celestia had been moved once again, and they would soon need the room for another patient. Twilight idly wondered, as she collected her saddlebag and the Sunstone, if the next patient would have any idea the importance of the pony who had previously occupied their bed.

She paused in the hallway.

Celestia had been moved, but it seemed much of the rest of the SunTrotter’s crew had remained--apparently not demanding as intensive care and privacy as Princess Celestia. Twilight recognized a few manes and coats even without the frost and smoke dying them, milling about in the causeway. Most were wearing respirators connected to oxygen tanks, but apparently more as a precaution than a necessity given the general fluidity of their movement. The SunTrotter crew were travelling freely in the hallway, though there seemed to be several guards keeping them in constant surveillance, standing at regular intervals down the hospital hallway.

Only one of the rooms themselves had any other special treatment. Even Celestia’s hadn’t been afforded extra security, but this room apparently warranted it.

Two guards. One on both sides of the door.

Spoiled Rich’s room, no doubt. The rest of the SunTrotter Crew and Lightning Dust had been kept in largely the same area--divided from the rest of the wing by the guard but largely free to roam around within. Spoiled Rich was the only one with the added security, and the only one that Twilight had not seen milling about in the causeway or balcony. The guards all gave Twilight cold glares as she walked by looking at them, wordlessly telling her to move the hell on and stop staring and discard any desire she might have to interview Spoiled Rich about what in Tartarus was going on.

She’d only ever seen nurses come and go into the room, bringing food or toiletries or magazines. Besides the two guards on both sides of the door, Twilight doubted there were anymore within. Surely the nurses would be bringing far more food and water for them if that were the case.

Walking by the room for what felt like the dozenth time, Twilight began counting her hoofsteps in her head the moment she was parallel with the locked and guarded door.

One, two, three…

She didn’t reach the next door until two strides later. About twenty feet, then, from door to door. She reset the count in her head, and again reached the same distance upon reaching the next door down the hall. Two strides, twenty feet.

Celestia’s former room, now empty, was four down from Spoiled Rich’s, and along the same wall. Twilight quickly scurried inside, shutting the door behind her and looking around to make sure she was alone within. Nopony in the bathroom, leaving her all alone within. Perfect.

Twenty feet a room. Spoiled Rich was five down, divided from her by about eighty feet and four sturdy walls. Breathing in a long sigh, Twilight lit her horn, charging her teleportation spell and praying she didn’t go flinging herself into a room full of armed guards ready to intercept her.

A flash, and she reappeared in a room that was stunningly identical to Celestia’s. Except, instead of the slumbering form of her lover, there was the hideous and surprised earth pony mare that had caused all of this.

“What the devil are you doing h--” Spoiled Rich began to shriek, and Twilight lit her horn again. She focused her telekinesis around the earth pony’s snout, jamming it shut while charging up a small bubble of magic around the two of them. She couldn’t risk the guards just outside overhearing, and sure enough the very first thing Spoiled Rich did upon Twilight releasing her was to shriek out for them. “Help! Help, I’m being attacked!”

Twilight glanced back at the door, bracing herself for a confrontation. None thankfully came, and she breathed out a long sigh of relief before turning back to Spoiled Rich.

“Save your breath. They can’t hear you.”

“What in Tartarus do you want?” Spoiled Rich sneered. “If you think I’ve got anything to say to you, you are truly as stupid as you look.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. She ignited her horn again, this time gripping a chair in her telekinesis and jamming it against the door handle the way she’d seen done in those silly spy movies the cinema would show.

“Shining Armor,” she growled out, turning back to Spoiled.

“Yes, that is a pony’s name. How very acute of you.”

Twilight stomped a hoof, her horn glowing brightly again. The bubble around them pulsed, Twilight accidentally and forcefully manipulating the air pressure within it around Spoiled Rich. She stopped when she saw the older mare wince, and dimmed her horn a little. Anger fuelled magic as much as focus did, and she'd have to be more careful. “You killed him. You lying, two faced, greedy piece of filth, you took my brother from me!”

At that, Spoiled Rich’s expression changed. She shuffled in her bed, once again casting a glance towards the sealed door. “I… did nothing of the sort. Shining Armor--your brother, that is--volunteered on his own accord. What happened to him is a terrible accident, and I assure you that the ponies responsible--”

“Shut up.” Twilight glared. “He’s dead because of you. Celestia is dying, because of you.”

Spoiled Rich blinked, and genuine horror began to seep into her expression. “No, she’s not…”

Twilight wasn’t the best liar, but her rage and hatred was as real as the sky and stars. It was the perfect veil for her bluff, and she embraced it with both hooves. Stepping back from Spoiled Rich, she surveyed the older mare with an icy glare, watching as she squirmed against a telekinetic grip Twilight didn’t even remember casting.

“I understand your frustration…” Spoiled Rich began, and she sounded so much more meek than Twilight had ever heard her before. “You’re angry, and you aren’t thinking clearly. Please, Miss Sparkle… believe me when I say that I want to help you, and help Equestria out of this mess just as much as you do, and as much as Celestia does.”

“Oh, I think I’m seeing things dreadfully clear,” Twilight growled out. “My brother is dead. Celestia is in danger. I have nothing to lose anymore, Miss Spoiled. Put the two of those sentiments together and reconsider your position before you start spewing corporate platitudes at me.”

She lit her horn brighter for emphasis, grasping the air pressure of the room and once again giving it a little tweak. Spoiled Rich winced, the way one would while riding an airship ascending a little too high and a little too swiftly. Twilight truly didn’t know how far she could push it, but she’d shattered bottles and barrels with far less anger motivating her magic. She felt stronger now--she had ever since she’d burned through the horn inhibitor. Her anger wasn’t inhibiting her anymore, and she wasn’t venting it into hatred of herself and the world anymore, either. She was twisting it into action, the way Nightmare Moon had told her she should.

“You’re out of your mind…” Spoiled Rich gasped out, her eyes wide.

Twilight levitated out her trusty tape recorder from her saddlebag, clicking it to life and setting it down on the hospital room’s end table. “Actually, I’m doing this for you. This is a chance for you to come clean with a bit of dignity. Because you can bet I’m going to be talking to every single pony who ever set foot in that building, and putting their statements against whichever ones you make… today, or in public in the future. Does that make my presence here a little more clear to you?”

Spoiled Rich’s reply was as defeated as it was venomous. “Yes.”

“Name and occupation, then. Say it for the tape recorder.”

“Spoiled Rich. Current acting Chief Executive Officer of Flim Flam Industries.”

Twilight settled down in a seat opposite Spoiled. “What do you know about the explosion to the North of Equestria, and the pollution it is causing?”

“The explosion was the result of a failed testing of the SunTrotter 3000, an experimental device designed to help raise the Sun without alicorn intervention.” Spoiled Rich’s gaze didn’t leave the tape recorder as she spoke. Twilight figured it was probably easier for her to converse with it over the mare blackmailing her. “The crew was pressed for time and poorly trained and it seems their incompetence resulted in the SunTrotter’s explosion. The pollution is a combination of deadly greenhouse gases that are life-threatening or fatal if inhaled without proper respiratory protection.”

Twilight’s glare grew predatory. “How long have you been involved in this project?”

Spoiled Rich exhaled. “I have been funding it in secret for five years.”

“Who designed it? You?”

Spoiled Rich shook her head. “The project was conceived and entered the experimentation stages twelve years ago, by Flim and Flam. It was quickly deemed too dangerous to warrant further experimentation and scrapped by the Brothers.”

“And picked up by you… why?”

At that, Spoiled Rich bit her lip. She said nothing, eyeing the recorder and then looking back to Twilight with a smug frown. “I don’t want to comment on that. Please...”

“Miss Rich, I’m going to find out one way or another. If I have to talk to every single pony in New Canterlot, I will.” Twilight narrowed her eyes, stomping a hoof on the floor. “You were still imprisoning Celestia when you revived the project, right?”

Shakily, Spoiled Rich nodded, much of her smug conviction gone. Twilight hadn’t ever seen her like this before… completely sapped of any of her pride or charisma. She supposed even a pony like Spoiled Rich had to have some semblance of humility to her position. “Y-yes. M-Miss Celestia was…. ill. We needed to start thinking of ways to raise the Sun if the… worse happened.”

“Instead of letting her go. Instead of just letting her see the damned Sun.”

“We didn’t know if that would even help!”

“You didn’t even try. You’d rather risk killing her and the Sun, over just letting her see the Sun. And why? You didn’t want her to escape?”

Another shaky nod from Spoiled Rich. “Yes.”

“So, you brought back the SunTrotter instead. And it blew up in your face, quite literally.” Twilight recapped, her voice as calm and patient as she could make it. “What about the Brothers? They weren’t around to help you? You blackmailed everypony else in your path, why not them?”

Silence, again. Not a refusal to speak, and so Twilight remained patient as Spoiled looked down at the floor and thought of how best to say it. Eventually, she seemed to decide that the simplest and bluntest way would suffice. “Because they’re dead.”

Twilight didn’t react beyond a single word. Obviously.

“How?”

“Respiratory illness caused by their experimentation with the SunTrotter twelve years ago. Exposure to its fumes killed the oldest in four years and the youngest in six. They’ve been dead for eight and six years, respectively.”

Twilight rose an eyebrow. “Is that the truth?”

“Yes. I’m sorry if it’s anticlimactic, to you.” Spoiled Rich turned her snout to Twilight, drizzling her words in sarcasm. “My sincerest apologies there is no dastardly conspiracy therein.”

“Besides the one where you lied about their deaths for years in order to use their legacy as a figurehead.” Twilight clicked the recorder off again. “You're despicable, you really are."

“...If that’s all, please get out and let me recover in peace,” Spoiled Rich said after a long and defeated sigh.

“Uh huh. This is what’s going to happen, Miss Rich. As soon as I leave here today, I'm going to begin talking to the rest of the SunTrotter Crew. If, at any point after you're released from this hospital, you lie to Equestria again, or stretch the truth, or try to throw anypony under the streetcar for your actions, then I’m going to make sure every station in Equestria hears this.” Twilight ejected the tape from the recorder and gave it a little shake for emphasis. “No matter what, I’m going to make sure that the full truth gets out. And then, when Equestria knows that you’re the reason the skies are killing them as well as their lakes and rivers--and you lied to them about it again--you’ll wish Celestia had left you to die with the rest of the SunTrotter.”

Twilight turned tail without another word, already preparing a teleportation spell to get her back into the hospital waiting room, but she halted it as Spoiled Rich spoke up again.

“...I didn’t want it to come to this, Twilight Sparkle.”

“What?” Twilight whipped around.

“I know that to you, that means nothing. But it’s the truth. I’d only wanted to help Equestria. I didn't know things would spiral so out of control. But… well, there are things in this life that make a mare feel small. When you have to shield your only daughter through cataclysm after cataclysm, and pray that the alicorn in power succeeds... How is that fair? How is it wrong to wish for a world beyond that?"

Twilight scoffed. “Is that the justification you use? Even after she saves your hide? Really? I don’t trust Celestia because she’s an alicorn, Spoiled Rich. I trust her because no matter how much everypony has tried to force her into being the villain, she’s still the compassionate and patient mare Equestria needs her to be. Despite everything--no matter how hard you might wish otherwise--she’s just… she’s just a good mare. There’s nothing else to it than that.” Twilight’s glare softened, as she packed away her recorder and replaced the chair where she’d found it. “Can’t... can’t you see that?”

Spoiled Rich closed her eyes, her ears sinking flat against her head. “...yes. I can.”

“Then why did you try your hardest to make everypony believe otherwise?”

Spoiled was silent. She opened her eyes once more, but only to gaze outside at the polluted, moonlit daytime sky on the otherside of the hospital room window. “...I want to be left alone now, Miss Sparkle. Please?”

Twilight teleported out without bothering with ceremony or farewell.

When she exited out into the waiting room again, a surprisingly familiar face was once again there to greet her.

There was the same gaggle of reporters and looky-loos within the waiting room, but a good percentage of them seemed to be subtly staring at the young thestral mare. Twilight recalled her instantly--she’d been the first face they’d seen in the Hollow Shades, and one of the ponies that had helped see them off when the time had come for them to return to Equestria. She was looking around in wonder at the polished interior of the New Canterlot Hospital right up until she noticed Twilight, where she promptly discarded all interest in anything but the mare in front of her.

“Hello, Twilight Unicorn,” she said, greeting Twilight with a coy smile.

Twilight nodded back. “Dusk Ruby, right?”

The thestral looks impressed at Twilight’s memory. “Y-yes, that’s right.”

“You’ve, uh. Travelled far.” Twilight blinked, doing her best not to look as surprised as she felt. Had word seriously travelled through Equestria that far? Then again, she supposed she’d been milling about in the hospital for the better part of three days, and it wasn’t exactly easy to ignore the changes that Equestria had been shoved through.

“Yes, well. There is much confusion at home. I’ve travelled on behalf of my tribe--ponies told me the Sun Princess is here?”

“Er, sorta. She’s… she’s sick.”

Instantly, Dusk Ruby’s warm and friendly demeanour dropped and concern took it’s place. “Sick how? Did she fight the machines again?”

Twilight frowned, prodding at the waiting room tiles with a hoof. “W-well, yeah, actually. I guess she did. It seems some of their machines went bad, and she… tried to save the ponies from them.”

“They attacked her?”

“No, not exactly. But… well, you know what the fuel from the excavators and bulldozers does, right? You’ve seen how it kills your trees and soil?”

Dusk Ruby nodded, biting her lip. “Yes indeed.”

“It’s… well, the same thing is happening with… with the air, now. And they say Princess Celestia breathed in a lot of the… ahem. The poison.”

“Dear Luna.” Dusk Ruby covered her mouth with a wing, her eyes wide. “I’m so sorry for her.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am, too. I’m... really worried.”

Without warning, Dusk Ruby wrapped a membranous wing around Twilight. “I’ve been praying to Luna for her safety since I left. I will pray for you now, as well.”

Twilight had half a mind to tell Dusk Ruby to forget about Luna. She suspected Nightmare Moon needed her prayers far more.

She didn’t say anything, though, save for a simple and polite thanks. Nightmare Moon, Celestia, Luna… all legacies that were Twilight’s responsibility to protect, now. Sooner than she would’ve wanted, but some part of her knew she’d never have been prepared for this no matter how much time had passed.

When better, than during the first Longest Night with a dawn that wasn’t in Celestia’s hooves?

iii

Twilight Sparkle was writing.

She'd boarded a streetcar not out of interest of reaching any destination, but simply for the distraction of doing so. They'd gotten them running again by the third morning of the Longest Night, though they were relatively free of other passengers with so many ponies fearfully staying indoors and hidden away from the angry sky above.

Twilight herself was wearing her respirator, and while it made seeing what she was writing a little more awkward, it was at least better than contracting whatever lung disease was now threatening Princess Celestia and heavens only knew how many more ponies across the wider world of Equestria.

She was listening to Spoiled Rich's testimony playing back at her as she wrote, a cheap pair of headphones fighting with the respirator for dominance over her bedraggled and messy mane. Transcribing it down to the syllable, so that the newspapers could have a go at publishing it as well. Everypony would hear it, and that at least was some empty comfort to Twilight. A barren one, and one that Twilight knew would be short-lived for herself despite how long-lived it's effects would be for Equestria.

Equestria would care about what Spoiled Rich had done, after all.

They wouldn't give a damn for Shining Armor. She squeezed her eyes shut, dropping her pen onto her notepad and closing it so that her stupid, infantile tears didn't muddy up her work.

I'm always worried, sis. Always worried I'll find your name, in some mass-grave newspaper obituary.

If only he had known.

The streetcar finished it's loop for the umpteenth time, once more winding its way around the New Canterlot Hospital Promenade and slowing to a stop to let ponies scurry on and off the rattling metal contraption. Twilight rubbed her eyes and looked around as more ponies boarded the streetcar, thankfully deserted enough that nopony had to sit close to her.

She'd had just enough time to open her notepad again, before a mare's voice rung out beside her.

"Hey, sorry... are you by chance Twilight Sparkle?"

Closing her notepad again and resisting the urge to groan out in frustration, Twilight glanced over. "Yeah, hi."

Her impatience was short-lived, however, as she saw the mare who had addressed her. She was familiar, though it took Twilight a second to pinpoint just where she'd seen her before. Back in the ICU. She'd been the glasses wearing unicorn who had been looking out at the polluted sky with a look of terrifying resignation.

"Moon Dancer. I'm... can I sit?"

Twilight moved her saddlebag onto her lap and nodded. "Yeah. Of course."

"I'm... I'm quite certain that the guards are listening, back in there. I couldn't risk talking to you in there, and I was just ready to give up entirely, but then..." She shook her head, evidently trying to calm her thoughts a little and organize them into something she could more easily express. "I was there, you see. In the SunTrotter, when it happened."

"Mmhm. You were on my list of ponies to track down and talk to."

"Well, I want to. Anything I can do to testify what happened, I want to. I can't just sit by and let them win after everything Celestia did for us. I'd be dead if it wasn't for her."

"You might be dead regardless." Twilight responded coldly, pointing her snout out the window at the sickly skies.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. It's not just the pollution," Moon Dancer said, frenzied urgency trickling back into her voice again. "And it's not just the Longest Night, either. It's... it's the Sun itself."

Twilight frowned, levitating her notepad back open again. "Oh yeah?"

"Princess Celestia kept mentioning--up North, I mean--she kept mentioning that it was... drifting on her. That she had to keep correcting it, over and over, even after leaving it unchecked for a few minutes. She said it was gradual and not to worry too much... but it was happening swiftly. And now, nopony is offering that correction at all, but nothing has stopped it from drifting."

Twilight felt a fresh wave of horror sweep over her, when she'd already felt so horribly resigned to the apocalyptic nature of current events already. "Drifting... how?"

"Well, if I had my research with me I could show you, but... the way it works is; the Sun and our planet each have their own magical attraction to each other. The Sun has a... a link, with Equus, and it keeps the two thinly bound together."

"A tug. Celestia always called it a tug. She said that raising the Sun was simply re-enchanting the natural tug between the Sun and Equestria."

"Exactly! And... and she's... she's not well, is she?" Moon Dancer asked, her voice growing lower and more dire. "She... she passed out, while she was helping shield us from the worse of the fumes from the fires. The poor mare had been keeping it up for nearly two hours before she did, and she taught me the enchantment and I was able to keep it going for another thirty or so minutes. We put her on oxygen and our base medic gave her CPR, but eventually it seems I lost consciousness too."

"I think that's when we found you. Any later and I suppose we'd be having a different conversation."

"Any later and there'd be no conversation to be had." Moon Dancer replied grimly. "But anyways. What I mean to say is that... with Celestia unconscious, the Sun's drift will continue. If it already needed correction after less than an hour, then it's already likely off course severely. A few more days, and it'll be even further. A week, and we'd need a machine three hundred times more powerful than the maximum recorded output of any SunTrotter model that've been put forwards. A month, and... well, you're... seeing the pattern, I hope."

Evidently, Twilight's dawning horror was obvious enough to cause Moon Dancer to go silent. Wordlessly, Twilight gave a terrified single nod.

"I... I need to tell you all of this. Because if... if Celestia doesn't awake and she's not able to fix this, then I need to at least come clean to Equestria about where.... where we're going."

"Don't worry." Twilight whispered out, shakily closing her notepad again. "I don't intend to let them forget."

iv

Twilight Sparkle lived in a small apartment above a bakery.

She had wanted to return to her library for her affairs. The still-blooming dreamroot up in her greenhouses was surely still lying in wait, and Twilight had no idea what would happen to it as the Fourth Longest Night began to crystallize itself into the coming week.

And yet, she’d arrived to the transit terminal to find that all trains, air taxis, and chariots entering Old Canterlot had been cancelled. The former capital had been put into lockdown, she was told, in an effort to reduce how many ponies were exposed to the vapours of arcane pollution blowing from the North. Her library was divided from her, and there were enough Industry airships puttering around above the winding mountain that she’d be spotted if she tried to hoof it.

A heavy lump hung in Twilight’s throat as she wandered aimlessly through the streets of New Canterlot, held in an artificial daylight brought on by neon and streetlights. The Canterlot Public Archives had been hers for nearly seven years, and she’d fought with fiery determination to save it from the horrible fate of becoming a shopping mall or factory. She’d succeeded against all odds and had preserved at least some tiny sliver of the once great capital’s dignity, and she’d felt some semblance of pride in that achievement.

But the air in Old Canterlot was poison. The ponies who did not flee would perish, and their deaths would be even more added to the SunTrotter’s continuing fury after it’s initial explosion had shaken Equestria. Without any way to return home, Twilight was left with little else but the contents of her saddlebag and the horn on her head.

And the Sunstone. That rarely left her now, and as gaudy as the felt wearing a tiara perpetually, she figured it was better than risking losing it again. Heavens knew she needed it more than ever now.

The Industry had waited nearly five days before making an official statement, and it was one listened to by Twilight and Raven from the confines of the hotel room Raven could afford on an Equestrian Public Servants pension. It was as brief and as non-specific as anypony with a brain expected. ‘A horrible accident has occured to the North of Equestria in one of the Industry’s power facilities. Ponies across the Northern Provinces, or residing in high altitude settlements, are strongly recommended to evacuate South. The nature of the incident requires that all ponies wear State-approved respirators if they are to be spending excessive time out of properly ventilated areas.’

Another statement had already preceded, in regards to the unending night. It was, to Twilight’s shock, more or less truthful; In a gallant effort to rescue survivors of the SunTrotter Incident, Princess Celestia had fallen ill and was currently unable to raise the Sun. It was, once again, technically the truth, and yet framed in such a way that Twilight found herself infuriated by the ambiguity.

After the announcements were done, the truth of the incident began to slowly trickle it’s way out. First through statements made by the SunTrotter Crew, all of whom verified what Twilight herself already knew. Celestia’s involvement hadn’t been controversial, it had been heroic. Spoiled Rich’s involvement hadn’t been cautious and selfless, it had been callous, irresponsible, and unnecessary. The experiment hadn’t just failed, its failure would continue unending into the days and then weeks and then months after the initial explosion--a symptom of a disease that Equestria only now knew they had contracted.

The predictions offered forth by the SunTrotter Crew were chilling. As the weeks crept on, the arcane fuel reactor’s refuse would not vanish. Instead, it would become trapped in their atmosphere. In some places, it would fall as rains of acid, which would pierce like daggers and eat away at the already ravaged ecosystems of Equestria. In others, it would blow in as an ominous fog, forcing ponies to don respirators even within their own homes.

The blizzards to the North, where the ruins of the SunTrotter were, remained in perpetual blizzard. Twilight had seen the photographs herself--it looked like a tempest, swirling forever even after the burning flames of the SunTrotter had been extinguished. The Crystal Ponies Twilight had spoken to had even had a word for it, thought Twilight couldn’t remember exactly what it was. A word from a thousand years ago, suddenly flung back into relevancy again.

There was talk of windigos striking Equestria’s northernmost towns where some stragglers refused to flee. Ancient spirits stirred back to life by the blizzard and the flames and the poisoned sky. A year ago, even Twilight would have thought such claims to be far fetched, but now she didn’t doubt the validity of such rumours in the slightest. They weren’t the only ones who’s homes had been disturbed by the SunTrotter Incident.

Fortunately, though, it seemed not all of Equestria’s mercy and kindness had been stolen away. The day after the official state of emergency had been declared for all of Equestria’s northern provinces, and the subsequent evacuation of Old Canterlot, had been the same day that Professor Fluttershy had visited Princess Celestia and Twilight Sparkle in the New Canterlot General Hospital.

And so, for the first week of the Fourth Longest Night, Twilight lived in a small apartment above a Ponyville bakery. A reluctant roommate to a dirt scientist and her botanist marefriend.

Celestia had come with her to Ponyville, too. Or, at least, she had been moved to Ponyville’s quieter General Hospital, as her coma took them further and further into uncharted and sunless waters. Twilight had committed at least half of her days to visiting Celestia. She wrote her articles in an uncomfortable seat in Celestia’s hospital room, sometimes reading them aloud for Celestia and hoping she might miraculously offer some comment or critique despite everything.

In eight days, she'd already published five articles. She'd never written so furiously in all her days, but it was better than mulling in the hopelessness of everything around her.

Twilight was sick of the dark. She was sick of not being able to go outside without worrying about the air that she breathed. But, for the first time that she could remember, she wasn’t alone, either. There was no shying away from it. No amount of propaganda or lies the Industry could produce could change the reality of what had happened. The Industry had lied and deceived in the interests of greed, and there was no hiding the result anymore. No amount of claims about the supposed sins of Celestia would ever be enough to change the irrefutable nature of the Fourth Longest Night.

All that was left for Twilight was to reiterate the truth that Equestria as a whole had come to realize with every day that the Sun did not rise:

They were lost without Celestia. They’d been lost without Celestia, and when she had tried to help them, they had ignored her. They’d tried as hard as they could to twist her compassion into something it wasn’t, and it still hadn’t been enough to stop her from sacrificing herself for the greater good of her ponies. Florina Harshwhinny’s testimony in New Canterlot seemed so relevant and so far away at the same time, now, as the crew of the SunTrotter itself had continued to testify. A mare that the Industry had claimed time and time again did not give a damn about the individual lives of the common pony had flown miles and miles to save them. That mare was the reason they had survived to tell the truth to a shattered and frightened nation. She was the reason why ponies like Moon Dancer hadn’t been buried underneath ice and rubble and lies, and why they were instead still present to help right the wrongs that only they could right.

It was a bitter tragedy, Twilight thought, that it had taken until Celestia was gone for the ponies of Equestria to realize how much they wanted her back.

At the very least, life in Ponyville wasn’t so bad.

She still felt like a worthless slouch everytime she entered Fluttershy and Tree Hugger’s apartment and made her way to the living room sofa that had started to double as her sleeping quarters after the kitchen cuckoo clock’s declaration that it was now night. Yet, the two mares were patient with her, and never made her feel like an unwelcome guest.

Still, her anxiety around the two flared up on occasion, as she knew it always would. She didn’t have a library to hide herself away in solitude now, and Tree Hugger was a sociable mare with many friends who came and went and forced Twilight to flee into the moonlit streets of Ponyville. Unlike Old Canterlot, Ponyville still had an active marketplace, though it had begun to struggle as flower and fruit harvests had all but ceased. The town had a history both proud and humble, that had been snuffed out by the surrounding industry. And yet, the stacks had ceased belching their smoke into the skies, now. The striking that had plagued them had grown worse as the rest of Equestria quickly turned against their necessity, and Flim Flam Industry continued to collapse from the inside out.

Indeed, Twilight felt as though the Industry was dying. But, Equestria was, too. The Industry had forced itself into the role of the nation’s lifeline, and then sealed it’s fate through overconfidence. There was nothing left to do now but wait for the last of the crops to wither and die out and pray that Celestia would soon awake and guide them back on track.

Every morning, Twilight tried with the Sunstone. Every morning, she failed to make any level of progress, but that didn’t matter. Celestia had never given up, so why should she? She wanted nothing more than to lead Equestria out of this, so that when Celestia did finally awake, she could awake to an Equestria she didn’t have to save, for once. But nopony would follow Twilight on empty words and promises. As much as she could work to denounce the Industry, doing so did not automatically give her more credibility as a leader. Celestia, perhaps, but not her. There was only so far Twilight could push Celestia’s trust of her without seeming like a cajoling, arrogant know-it-all, and she knew better.

When she awoke the Sun, or the mare who had served it for so long awoke instead, then they would see. The pieces were all in place, for the moment Celestia awoke. It was easy to feel hopeless until then, and heavens knew Twilight had gotten used to the feeling. Still, Celestia’s optimism was infectious. Even from beyond consciousness, Twilight could feel it.

Every eternal night thus far has had an eventual dawn. Celestia’s words, scrawled hastily on the back of a radio equipment operator’s manual and shown to her by Raven Inkwell.

Perhaps they were true.

Author's Note:

Final Chapter and an Epilogue soon to follow.

Thanks for being patient with these last few.

Comments

[Tattered Rags]

If there was ever a time for me to say this, it's now: this chapter is simultaneously satisfying, and unsatisfying.

[CMDR Vaneia]

It’s back!

[Jhonn]

As an environmental engineer, this story gives me a foreboding feeling, if things continue in our world drowning in consumption, I fear this chapter will be a prophecy.

[Gavier]

I know that it's common for stories to have a darkest hour before the climax and resolution. Thanks to the tags, I know that this isn't a tragedy, and that even if Celestia does die I trust that we'll get a satisfying conclusion. Factually, I know those things. Emotionally...

Feelings don't care about facts.

And sure as hell I'm feeling those dark drama tags right now

[Raistlin]

I wonder what plan is Spoiled going to concoct in order to avoid the blame of the current disaster.
Then again, Twilight obtained her confession under duress, so...

[DivinePanzer]

I'm sorry. The only tragedy here is that Celestia is a COLLOSAL idiot.

I forget if the Sunstone was found or made, but Celestia had it hidden over a thousand years ago, with Luna begrudgingly creating the traps surrounding it. Sounds reasonable, to have a backup for controlling the Sun. Unreasonable, in that NO ONE knew about it in the modern day.

Celestia nearly dies retrieving it while Twilight tagged along, then...nothing.

Oh sure, Celestia did train Twilight to use it to move the Moon, but something about that worried her so she never elevated Twilight to Sun training. THE THING SHE RETRIEVED THE SUNSTONE FOR?!?!

And now, Equestria is dying in large part because Twilight can't make the backup plan work. Because Celestia, despite KNOWING otherwise(else she wouldn't have bothered retrieving it), fell into the trap of "I can always do it tomorrow." Well. It's tomorrow...

[Lex4art]

10729709
Mayb there was no point to train Twi with sun movement till she can master some basic controls over tiny moon...

[supersport]

10729709
You missed a pretty big point in your rant there.

Under normal circumstances I don’t think it would have been that hard to move the sun, the thing Celestia didn’t predict was the bond between Equestria and the sun getting messed up. So even if Twilight used the stone perfectly they would still be screwed because as Moondancer said it would take a much greater amount of power to fix things now. Celestia’s mistake was running in there without knowing what was going on, a lot more ponies would have died if she didn’t so it was a lose/lose situation there. Although Running in there blindly to try and save ponies is totally in character for her in this story.

[zimmerwald1915]

10729709
What tragedy? The only consequence will be Equestria getting scoured from the face of the planet, and that is a good thing.

[NorrisThePony]

10729889

What did he mean by this

[Harwick]

A sobering chapter... I can’t wait for the conclusion, even as I fear what it will bring!

[The Great Derpsby]

I get a sense that Celestia won't be happy if she does wake up and finds out Equestria is completely lost with the backups put in place back in the day. Because, well... that's a failing on her. Something like the Sunstone exists, yet Twilight believes Equestria can't survive without Celestia, so perhaps our dear princess didn't want or didn't think it worth it to give the ponies more means to take care of themselves. And now they've blown up the world in order to find some. That doesn't put Celestia in the best of lights, and I think she'd realise that too.

And just to be clear, that does NOT justify any of the horrible things done to her.

[Blaster M]

Time for Twilight to save the world.

[DivinePanzer]

10729757
My memory is spotty, so I most likely missed something. My takeaway from the story was that Celestia wanted to train Twilight to move the Moon first like human kids get training wheels on bikes, yes. THEN she found out that Nightmare Moon's shade was in contact with Twilight, which made her hesitant to move onto the Sun. They eventually resolved the situation, but Tia never did even let Twilight ATTEMPT to move the Sun.

10729838
I've seen a few other fics where the Moon requires a delicate coaxing and the Sun must be FORCED to be in proper orbit. So whether the Sun and Moon work exactly the same way here or need different approaches I'm not going to make a big fuss over.

I can see your point regarding need more power and more often. My takeaway was that Twilight didn't have enough power, or merely know how to apply it at dawn. Her concern was more that prior to Moon Dancer's revelation she didn't know that the Sun would need more than just Dawn and Dusk corrections. Because again, Celestia neither trained her to move the Sun, or even connect the Sunstone to it, or how to interpret any feedback the crown might give her.

[NorrisThePony]

10731093

They eventually resolved the situation, but Tia never did even let Twilight ATTEMPT to move the Sun.

This is actually untrue. After the conversation with Moonie, Twi, and Celestia clears up a lot of Celestia's worry, there's several scenes where Twilight and Celestia practice raising the Sun together. Once near the end of Chapter 16 when Celestia wakes up to NMM and Twi talking about her, and then again briefly before they visit the thestral village, as far as I can recall off the top of my head. Twilight doesn't solo it either times, but it's about fifty-fifty between her effort and Celestia's.

Worth noting, both instances you also get the event presented through Twilight's perspective, who is a very self-deprecating and self-doubting character.

[DivinePanzer]

10731137
Oops. For some reason I thought it was just Moon time. Really should start looking into my memory issues.

[NorrisThePony]

10731183

I can hardly blame you for missing them, they were briefer mentions than any of the Moon Raising sequences with Nightmare Moon.

[lost711]

I don't know how to feel about it. We do have confirmation that Flim/Flam died, since I really don't think Spoiled Rich would lie at this point. I'm not really surprised, there was a lot of indication that something had happened to them, but it really does go to show how badly this got blotched. It sounds like under Flim and Flam, Industry wasn't QUITE as bad as it became.

I know it's been given in a broad sense, but I do actually wonder what the actual replacement of Celesita -> Industry took the form of. I'd have to re-read a lot of the opening chapters, but my memory is telling me we really haven't seen much from the actual end of the Crystal Wars and the end of monoarchy.

I'm not certain what your endgame is going to look like. We're moving away from the Chernobyl vives and heading much closer to "End of the World As We Know It" territory.

[WanderingPony]

10729889

Along with all life on the planet.

Endgame without intervention leaves the planet a frozen, toxic hellscape without a sun.

[zimmerwald1915]

10731093
Pretty sure Twilight will have to befriend the sun rather than force it. Central theme and all that.

10733712
Good riddance. The other powers could have stopped this by invading Equestria and denying the ponies self-government, and didn't. They are just as culpable as Equestria's citizens for how things have gone, which is to say, very. Equestria is a republic now, and the ponies did not revolt to alter or abolish it.

[nonspecific13]

10734062
see my other comment that debunked your second statement

and thank you for the point you made above, i think i get what youre doing

[NorrisThePony]

10735082

talking about sight, alicorns have a natural regeneration thing in their bodies.

celestia is a goddess she cant die

alicorns can survive just fine with and without oxygen. again, theyre immortal.

Citation desperately needed my dude. Like everything else you've said, these are headcanons put forward to answer questions that canon never addressed.

[NorrisThePony]

10738091
cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/679833881855131728/824393038200569886/earf_poner.gif

[ibneko]

Ooo, updates! I haven't checked Fimfiction in maybe a year. Glad to see there's more to this story and can't wait for more.

“You are enthusiastic and intelligent, but… well, power is the one thing you lack. And if you are to assume Luna’s role as stewardess of the night, I would like to present you with the opportunity. Now, please be silent and follow.”

I wonder what Nightmare Moon was going to show Twilight before they were interrupted by the sun getting boop'd out of position by the suntrotter. Also a little surprised Twilight hasn't taken the dream plant thingie to try to find Nightmare Moon to consult her for sun help. I guess she's reasonably distracted though.

[StormyVenture]

10729475
No matter how bad we make it, our sun will probably still be brightly and turbulently shining away beyond our ruined mess of a biosphere long after our brief and tenuous existential moment has ended...

[Anonymous Changeling]

Eventually, though, she had to leave. Shining Armor stayed dead no matter how hard she wept, and Celestia was still out there. Still alive, for whatever little that might have been worth. Too many times, she’d watched Celestia shove down her own grief and continue dragging herself forward to some noble goal. She supposed that if she were to ever be a fraction of them are Celestia was, she would have to do the same.

misplaced space here. Should be “the mare”