Substitute

by RQK

9 - Fracture

Princess Celestia straightened herself, trying to look tall, but found that she had nothing to say. There was nothing she could say. She looked down at the crowd gathered at the foot of her dais. She could see every heartbroken face peering up at her with glints of hope in their eyes that were sadly diminishing with every second.

“It’s been days!” the exasperated mare before her cried. “That’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen my husband. P-please, I need to know where he is.”

“That’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen my daughter,” an older stallion behind her added. “I would… crawl into a hole and die if anything’s happened to her.”

Several others also voiced their concerns and pleas.

Celestia sighed. “I promise you that the very best that Equestria has to offer are working around the clock to find them. I only ask for your patience here.”

“Princess Celestia,” one of them said, “w-we are worried sick. Surely, you must have something.”

“Anything,” another said.

Celestia went to speak but then noticed another pony, a new pony, pushing through the crowd. A mare, whose long mane had fallen by the wayside, with bagged eyes and lack of color in her muzzle, slunk through until she was at the front. And the new mare looked up.

“Your Highness…” she tentatively began, “I have to ask you about my sister. Her name is Quiet Gestures. She’s a mime here in Canterlot. Surely, you know of her?”

Celestia sighed. “I know of many ponies, my little pony.”

“I even had dinner with her this time last week. We ate out at a restaurant, went to a show together. And when we parted ways… I thought she had gone home, but nopony has seen her since. I am so incredibly worried for her. I beg you, Your Highness. You must know where she has gone!”

Celestia swallowed but said nothing. The quiver in her lip, however, gave her away.

A strand in the mare’s already disheveled mane fell in front of her face. “P-p-please, Princess.”

Celestia’s heart ached. She felt at it, worried that it would break in two. “I can assure you that we are doing our best—”

“Please…”

“—to find them. Again, I must ask for your patience.”

The disheveled mare stumbled backward, her grimace spreading across every inch of her features. She hung her head. “Oh stars… Oh stars.”

A few hushed voices passed through the group.

“They’re… not coming back,” a mare croaked.

A friend wrapped their hoof around the mare’s withers. “Don’t say that. I’m sure they’ll be back.”

Another stallion began hyperventilating. “N-no. I c-can’t.”

It took every ounce of Celestia’s considerable strength to hold back tears. Instead, she looked toward the ceiling, hoping to see a face there. Oh, Twilight, I really hope you can find them soon.

---

Starlight Glimmer reached the top of the steps and glanced behind her. “Here we are.”

Adamantine took a sip from one of the coffee mugs floating around her. She peered over the banister toward the ground and then at the door. “So, this is the spot where they worked out of however many months ago,” she said.

Starlight shrugged, fiddling with the crystal ball in her magical grasp. “Yeah, that too.”

They opened the door and went inside. No less than two Sunset Shimmers, hunched over documents, glanced up at them. Another Sunset Shimmer descended the stairs, regarded them with indifference, and then trotted toward a teapot in the kitchen area. They all wore colored bandanas around their necks. Adamantine and Starlight waved sheepishly in return.

The two then pressed further into the tower, hearing the rumblings of machinery above. They ascended the staircase into the study area where they found multiples of the same large machine as various energies poked and prodded at small spherical rocks in their chambers. There were four more Sunset Shimmers up here. Three of them, also wearing their own bandanas, raised their eyebrows but said nothing.

The last, without a bandana of her own, stood up and trotted over. “Starlight, Adamantine,” Sunset Shimmer greeted.

“How is the work going?” Starlight asked.

“We’re almost done doing our initial readings,” Sunset replied, “and we’ve started deciphering them, see if they can tell us anything. But…”

Adamantine raised an eyebrow. “But?”

“Check this out,” Sunset said, levitating over some papers. She separated them into two stacks. “We’ve started on a second round of readings. This is a set from the first round,” she said, holding up one stack, “and here’s the same set from the second round.”

Both Starlight and Adamantine leaned in close in order to examine them. They shifted between the old and the new, back and forth.

The crystal ball voiced it. “They’re different,” Twilight’s voice said.

Sunset paused and then nodded. “Yeah, they are. I’m not entirely sure what it means just yet but… I’m wondering if the seal is changing.”

Starlight frowned. “Well… uhm…”

Adamantine shook her head. “I would… hazard that it has indeed changed. After all…” she said as her eyes shifted back and forth like she was searching her mind, “it did change between when The Great Benefactor perished and when I took you to the chamber.”

“But then that would mean that it’s changed again in the last twenty-four hours,” Starlight said.

“This is the first I’ve been aware of this,” Twilight’s voice said. “This is illuminating.”

Sunset glanced toward the ceiling. “Do you know where it leads?”

“I do, but I’m not going to say anything.”

“Right.”

“…Have you found anything else?”

Sunset nodded, motioning toward a set of orange spheres. “Yeah, I think I have something that you might not have seen before either,” she said. “Look at these.”

Twilight’s voice gasped. “Those are stones! But… wait. Wait… Why are some of them white?”

“I don’t know,” Sunset replied, looking over them.

Adamantine approached the set and picked one up with her magic, eyeing it closely. She paused to take another sip. “So, these are the items that supplemented the seal. I never thought I would actually see one of these up close…”

“Those things perpetually tethered to the seal, yes,” Twilight’s voice said. “It’s as you told me yesterday.”

“Which would be ten days ago for you,” Adamantine replied. She picked up another stone, this one white. She held it up. “This one is missing the energy in its outer layer.”

“What exactly does that mean?” Starlight asked.

Adamantine frowned. “It’s a dead stone.”

Sunset gasped. “It’s alive?”

“I suppose that you could say that. It is, in a sense. I don’t fully understand it, however. I just know this one to be dead.”

Sunset stroked her chin. “I wonder how exactly a stone dies…?”

“They’ve changed color. Weren’t they purple when you worked with them, Sunset?” Twilight’s voice asked.

“Yeah. And… they’ve changed color again in the past twenty-four hours.”

After a pause, Starlight stroked her chin. “So, there’s definitely stuff happening there, I guess.”

Sunset nodded. “Yeah.”

Adamantine set the stone down and drew to her full height again. “I would think that might be useful information, at any rate. Where have Twilight and her company gone? I am sure they would like to hear it.”

* * *

Twilight Sparkle glanced around the cavern’s crystalline walls. The ambient light within them lit the path. Her five friends trotted behind her as the path spiraled down.

The path hung a sharp left and, once again, they arrived at the short tunnel that lead right into ornate double doors. The entrance to the seal. She glanced upon its features, noting the strange entities depicted within each one. Her eyes fell on a circular depression where the doors met, where the crystal ball would have been had they not taken it.

The address to Equestria W flashed through her mind and then she opened a portal. The tunnel on the other side, in contrast to the adequately lit one that they stood in, was completely dark. Twilight made a light with her horn and floated it through the portal first, illuminating the area beyond, before stepping through herself.

Glancing around, she noticed that while her lighting spell was reflecting, the crystal walls did nothing else. It was as if they, like the rest of this world, were dead. Her eyes drew toward the double doors, which were in the exact same condition as in her own timeline.

She narrowed her eyes. Exact same condition. No crystal ball.

No sooner did her friends join her did the doorway groan loudly. They shuddered and then parted ways, revealing the white-lit chamber beyond. She had heard that the other chambers had large, community-like structures within them. This one was empty and barren, just like the chamber she remembered.

She bent down to examine one of the sigils in the floor. There was now a glassy layering to each sigil, covering a white core underneath that burned with far less intensity than the sigils in the other timelines (but contributed enough light to dimly illuminate the stone-walled chamber).

Applejack trotted up behind her. “What are those over there?” she asked, pointing.

They raced into the center of the room to find seven crystal balls, all arranged in a haphazard circle. The six of them paused, eyeing them with curiosity. The views within each crystal ball showed different versions of the chamber. While six showed magenta-lit chambers with lattice-like structures and sleeping unponies, the final one was white-lit and empty, just like the one they stood in.

Twilight picked it up and peered into it. “Look, there’re some ponies in there,” she said.

They gathered around and peered into the ball. Six copies of Adamantine, each wearing colored bandanas, gathered in the center of the chamber. They sat around a crystal ball, speaking in whispers.

Twilight glanced up at her friends and then wrapped her hooves around the ball. She licked her lips and then spoke. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

The Adamantines glanced up, passing more whispers between each other. One of them, wearing a yellow bandana, then spoke. “Greetings. We had word that somepony such as yourself would make contact here.”

“Contact? You knew we would be here?”

“Yes.”

The six exchanged glances. “How?”

“We were told, several days ago, via communication sent down by our counterpart,” another Adamantine, wearing a silver bandana, said.

“Counterpart?” Rarity asked.

“I cannot say who you are, exactly, but if I had to hazard a guess… you are Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight swallowed. “Yes, that is me.”

“And you are accompanied, currently, by your friends. Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Smash, and…”

“Rarity and Fleurshy,” the yellow bandana Adamantine finished.

Another Adamantine, who was wearing a red bandana, frowned. “I am… pretty sure that we did not have those names correct.”

Rainbow Dash placed her hoof on Twilight’s withers. “It’s Dash. Although Smash is kinda cool.”

Applejack placed her hoof on the ball. “Alright, now y’all listen here. We know y’all been taking ponies. We’ve known for several days now.”

Rarity joined Applejack. “Where have you taken them?”

The Adamantines exchanged glances. “We cannot tell you,” the green bandana Adamantine replied.

“And we will not tell you,” the red bandana Adamantine added.

“What you are doing is wrong. You must set those ponies free,” Twilight said.

“We will not.”

Fluttershy placed her hoof on Twilight’s withers. “…Why? Why do you need them so much?”

“How can you justify this?” Rarity added.

“We are following those orders which have been passed to us by our subjects.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. “Passed by your subjects? I thought you were in charge?”

“We are, in a sense. It would seem to me that you are already familiar with the crystal ball and how it works.”

“More than you might think.”

“Then it should not be so difficult for you to grasp this concept: we have used time to issue and carry out operations, well before even being aware of them ourselves.”

Twilight took her hooves off the ball. “They’ve been using the crystal balls to send orders back in time. That must mean that the worlds are still similar enough to follow each other.”

Applejack shrugged. “Makes sense to me.”

Twilight replaced her hoof. “We understand it.”

“But,” Rarity said, “you have… just said it all. It would seem to me that you don’t have any actual idea why you’re doing any of this. Do you?”

The Adamantines exchanged uncertain glances. A silence passed between them as some unspoken conversation passed between them. One of them nodded, the other’s expressions turned resolute. “That is correct,” the blue bandana Adamantine said. “We have concepts about the scope of our operation, and we know that it points toward a result which is in our interests... but as far as we can tell, it is the brainchild of our counterpart.”

Twilight ground her teeth together. “…Your counterpart?”

* * *

Sunset stared down at the page before her, flip-flopping between examining the data and jotting down notes.

Starlight and Adamantine sat close by, staring at their own sets of readings. Their expressions were confused frowns, contrasting Sunset’s determined smirk. Starlight snorted and Adamantine shook her head.

Some of the other Sunset Shimmers, between tasks, looked at the two and giggled between each other.

“Twilight,” Sunset said, “you’ve been pretty quiet these past few minutes. Something up?”

“No, everything’s fine. Actually, things are great.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. We might just avoid the disaster at this rate!”

Everypony in the room perked up and then shared smiles as well as short and sweet cheers.

“I thought so too. So… I thought I would take a moment to reorganize my notes. And… I’ve remembered something. I remember hearing…” Twilight’s voice paused. “Yes. Adamantine, did you have a question that you’ve been wanting to ask me for a while?”

“Oh!” Adamantine gasped in surprise and then nodded. “Yes, yes I did. But... it’s since answered itself.”

“Just out of curiosity, what was your question, exactly?”

“It’s quite particular.”

“That’s okay!”

Adamantine grinned and ran her hoof across the floor. She then stood up.

“As you know it by now, I am the queen of the unponies. By that same token, I am… intimately linked with The Great Benefactor; that entity which you have chosen to call the Nameless. So it should come to no surprise to you if I say… that I have the ability to peer inside the seal.”

“I think I can see that,” Starlight said, nodding slowly.

“I cannot describe what is on the other side. It is not a place that you can see, or hear, or feel. Our rules of existence do not so much apply there. Rather, you can only be conscious of it. You can only sense it. Me? I can sense that place at any time that I feel like, given that I focus.

“And in the past,” Adamantine continued, “when I did that, I could sense The Great Benefactor.”

The few Sunset Shimmers that had been working now looked over. The remaining ones appeared in the stairwell, the afterthoughts of a conversation leaving their lips.

Adamantine frowned and stared into the distance. “But I could also sense… copies of me. I could never really interact with them because they were like mirrors of myself. But… they stopped showing up a few years ago. I thought nothing of it then. Perhaps it was an omen.

“I felt The Great Benefactor disappear, Twilight. And then, after that, whenever I immersed myself, I could not sense it anymore.”

And then Adamantine frowned, “But… briefly, I did sense something else.”

Starlight blinked, frowning. Sunset, meanwhile, rose to her hooves as well.

“And…” Twilight’s voice hazarded, “what was that?”

Adamantine chuckled. “You, of course.”

Sunset shuddered and exchanged glances with Starlight. The other Sunsets, meanwhile, exchanged shrugs.

“I used to wonder about that,” Adamantine said. “I wanted to ask you if you knew anything of that. But… after the story which I have heard some days ago… I do not wonder anymore.”

“I guess I’m not surprised,” Twilight’s voice said. “I was in there during that time, after all.”

Starlight tilted her head with curiosity. “You know… I’m still a bit fuzzy on all that. I know you kinda told me the basics of what happened, but…”

Adamantine nodded. “I am interested in hearing more about how you went about that as well.”

Twilight’s voice paused. “Yes. You see, I was able to destroy the Nameless by tricking it into the door as it tried to come through. I met it at that point in between our world and the seal. But… you can’t exist there. It ended up destroying my body and it destroyed the Nameless too. When I first came up from that chamber, I had the making of that plan and I could have very well done that on my own. …That could have been the end of it.

“But, thanks to The Answer, my essence, at least, made it through. The Answer stored that within the seal so that it could be retrieved later. That must be what you saw. But… considering that my body was utterly annihilated, that took a considerably greater amount of work and computation just to make something new.”

Sunset grimaced. “So… you don’t even have the same body as you used to.”

“…No, I don’t. But, I guess, considering all the weird transformations I’ve undergone over the years—just look at the mirror portal—it’s not a big deal. It’s a really good thing you got this body right, though.”

Starlight stood up. “What? Could they have brought you back as a stallion?”

“Uhhhhhhh,” Twilight’s voice chuckled. “That… goes places that I’d rather not go… but… I guess so.”

Sunset grinned. “Huh. If only.”

Starlight went red in the face.

“Hey!” Twilight’s voice exclaimed.

Adamantine hid her chuckle behind a hoof.

Sunset threw her head back and laughed. “I’m kidding, okay? Come on, Twilight. You know that getting it right was really difficult.”

“Probably wouldn’t have been as much trouble if your body had gone through intact, right?” Starlight said.

After a moment’s pause, the ball replied, “Yes, of course. That would have been interacting with the seal.”

Starlight shrugged. “No stallion, then.”

Sunset leaned over and whispered, “Just between you and me, I’d take her either way.”

Adamantine hummed. “What I find interesting is the fact that you may separate an essence to begin with. That it… does not have to return to the body from which it left.”

After a few moment’s pause, Twilight’s voice replied with a tentative, “Yes.”

“Ooooh,” Starlight cooed, “that’s a good point. You could go to somepony else’s body that way. Maybe.”

Sunset giggled. “In fact, you could switch bodies with somepony, maybe?”

The crystal ball was silent for many moments. “Yes,” Twilight’s voice tentatively said, “but… the both of them must exist to begin with.”

Adamantine tilted her head in silent consideration. She said nothing.

Starlight nodded. “Huh. Interesting stuff.”

Sunset nodded in agreement.

Adamantine stood up and trotted across the room, eyeing the hourglass as she passed by it. She arrived in front of the sprawling window and started pacing. She took a seat next to the window, the sun at her back. She looked like she was meditating.

“U-uh, Adamantine, what are you doing?” Twilight’s voice nervously asked.

A few moments later, Adamantine replied, “I had a thought, you see. We’ve been talking about the seal so much… And I wonder what I would see if I looked there now.”

Starlight and Sunset inched closer, flanking the hourglass.

Adamantine focused. Her body remained still yet relaxed. Her breaths were shallow and slow, and yet there was rapid movement behind closed eyelids.

Her muzzle twitched, her brow furrowed. “That’s strange,” Adamantine whispered.

Sunset frowned. “What do you see?”

“Well… I see… ponies. Thousands and thousands of ponies.”

The whole room paused. Sunset and Starlight exchanged glances and swallowed. The Sunset Shimmers flinched and then leaned forward with devout curiosity.

“They must be all the ponies that have been taken from the timelines,” Adamantine concluded. “The ones which you have been searching for.”

Starlight blinked. She turned to Sunset. “They’re… inside the seal?” she whispered.

Sunset narrowed her eyes.

“I see thousands,” Adamantine continued. “There are some… ponies that I have seen before here, but they are not quite the same.”

“…That’s why no one could find them,” Starlight continued. “This explains so much.”

“And…” Adamantine shuddered, her frown deepening. A confused eyebrow went up. “What are…? I see… the other versions of me are here too. They’re here… in limbo just like every other pony here. Yet…”

“What!? This is the first I’ve known about this,” Twilight’s voice said. “That… explains some things. But…”

“Why are they there?” Adamantine thought aloud.

The only sounds that followed where the whirs of the machines.

“…A-Adamantine,” Twilight’s voice quivered. “What… else is there? Is there anything else in that seal?”

Adamantine shifted, her expression turning perplexed. She nodded from side to side as she, presumably, looked around. “I see… something. It’s… I don’t believe it. My other selves have embedded something within themselves. Within this seal. It’s…” She went silent.

Everypony leaned forward in interest.

“It’s… information. My other selves have managed to integrate some additional information with their essences. And there’s a lot of it. I can’t readily read it in full, but I can read it. It… looks like a spell, a very powerful and intricate spell, and it…” Adamantine went silent.

“…Adamantine,” Twilight’s voice said.

Sunset’s heart thumped in her chest.

Adamantine remained for many long moments. A minute, maybe two, passed by. And then, finally, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

“Twilight Sparkle…” Adamantine said at length, “I am afraid that… you have been fooled.”

Everypony in the room tensed up at that.

“I’m… sorry? I’ve been… I-I don’t—”

“It was not by my doing, I assure you. But I know that it has happened, and I have concealed it from you. I want you to know that I have the utmost respect for you, Twilight. And as such… I want to tell you this much:

“I read those documents on the table last night. And despite your best measures, I learned… a critical piece of material.”

The crystal ball was silent for many long moments. Starlight imagined a mare taking a long pause as she steadied herself.

“Adamantine,” Twilight’s voice firmly said.

Adamantine looked up and her frown deepened. Finally, tentatively, she spoke. “And I know why you would have liked to conceal it from me. So… I’m sorry, Twilight.”

Her horn lit up and, with an airy pop, a portal twice her size appeared behind her, showing a ruined tower full of bleached dust and debris. The room’s grand window was shattered, letting a shallow wind make its way through the portal.

Starlight and Sunset reeled, crying out in surprise.

“No! No! That’s impossible!”

The Sunset Shimmers stared with wide-eyed shock.

“I understand you now, Twilight. I think… that I’ve nearly grasped what is going on. But there is something I must see about now.”

“Stop! Adamantine! Think about what you’re doing. You can’t!”

Sunset swallowed and stepped forward, looking at Adamantine with uncertainty. Starlight joined her, lighting her horn in the process.

Adamantine nodded. “I have. You are a princess of Equestria. And your existence now… your motive... has helped to convince me that I am right.”

“Step away from that portal, Adamantine,” Sunset warned.

“Listen to me. You have to stay here!” Twilight’s voice exclaimed. “You go through with this, you’re going to cause something very terrible!”

Adamantine paused, her expression growing somber. She looked up, trying to find a watching face. After a moment’s thought, she vacantly nodded. “You… I am sure that you are correct. You have been through these events already. If I go through with this… then I will do something that is… most regrettable.”

Starlight and Sunset held their breaths.

Adamantine drew to her full height. Her wings unfurled to their full, magnificent length, and magic coursed through her horn.

“But... only for them would I do anything.”

Adamantine teleported to the other side of the aperture—into the ruined room beyond. Her horn was still lit.

Sunset dove, Starlight shot.

“Adamantine! Wait! That’s not—”

The portal snapped shut, fizzling out before their eyes.

Sunset tumbled, and Starlight’s shot ricocheted into some shelves.

“Oh, by the stars!” Twilight’s voice cried.

A flurry of gasps and cries erupted from the Sunset Shimmers.

Starlight stamped her hoof. “Twilight!”

“Ah! Ahhhh! Starlight! You have to go after her!” Twilight’s voice screamed.

Sunset swore and rolled over. “Twilight, where did she just go!?”

“Oh stars! Oh stars!”

“Twilight!”

“She’s going to the seal in Equestria W, where we are right now. And when she gets there, it’s over!”

Starlight broke into a gallop toward the stairs. “Come on, Sunset!”

“Go!”

Sunset hopped to her hooves and galloped behind. She paused at the first step and turned. “You all stay here! We’ll be back!”

Without checking for acknowledgment, she bolted down the stairs and out of the tower.

* * *

Twilight groaned and pinched the bridge of her muzzle. “Okay, you must have known that it would lead to this. You must have known how wrong it is to take all of those innocent ponies.”

The red bandana Adamantine reluctantly nodded. “We are well aware of that. But you see, we do this because it will be to the benefit of all of our unponies.”

“You are a princess in Equestria,” the blue bandana Adamantine said. “We know; our subjects have had plenty of time to tell us about you. We are not so certain why they all know you so intimately, but all the same…” She shook her head. “Surely, as a princess, you have felt the compulsion of duty.”

“Of course I have,” Twilight replied, “but I don’t think that I could ever do something like this! It’s a crime!”

“Diplomacy and law cannot help us here,” the yellow bandana Adamantine countered.

A loud groan reached them and they turned to see the huge stone doors parting. Adamantine stepped through, appearing to glide toward them.

Twilight blinked. “Adamantine?”

Rainbow Dash zipped forward. “Wait a second! Which one are you?”

Adamantine smiled. “Do not fear, Rainbow Dash, I am yours.” She turned to the others. “May I ask what you are doing?”

“We’re talking to your alternate universe selves,” Pinkie Pie replied.

Adamantine nodded. “…I see,” she said, stopping just short of them. “I would… like to have a word with them.”

The others exchanged glances and then backed away, letting Adamantine into the circle. Adamantine lit her horn and levitated the crystal ball out of Twilight’s grasp. She pressed on toward the center of the room, picking up the other crystal balls in the process.

She pressed the first crystal ball against her side. “Greetings, my counterparts.”

The Adamantines straightened up and glanced toward the ceiling, which Adamantine saw was up toward her. “Queen Adamantine of Equestria R. Our… prime counterpart,” the brown bandana Adamantine said.

“I understand that you have been very busy recently.”

“We have been,” the silver bandana Adamantine said. “It has been a long and hard road, but we feel… that whatever it is that we are working for… it is almost to fruition.”

Adamantine glanced back toward Twilight and the others. She nodded. “I see.”

“Surely, you have seen hints of our activities by now.”

“I have. And, as it so happens, said activity has brought attention to my people.”

“That is… unfortunate.”

Adamantine grew somber. “It has… had its merits. These past few days have been a whirlwind… of developments both good and bad.”

“That is understandable. We would imagine that this has happened so quickly for you. You have been isolated for the longest time.”

“Whereas we have had each other for a long while,” the red bandana Adamantine said. “We have been able to share resources and… given the condition that our worlds are in… less-obstructed access to so much more.”

“We predicted your existence not long after we made contact ourselves,” the green bandana Adamantine said. “We would have liked to have made contact with you sooner so that we could share our resources with you; so that we could save our unponies, together.”

The silver bandana Adamantine lowered her head. “Back then… there were more of us.”

Adamantine paused, counting them up. She counted six of them. “…There was a seventh, wasn’t there?”

“From the timeline that we are in right now. We made contact with this timeline’s version of us, but… sadly… she and her unponies perished along with the rest of this world before we had the chance to meet.”

Adamantine wobbled about but otherwise remained standing.

Rarity suppressed a gasp with her hoof, and Applejack hid behind her stetson. The others whimpered and frowned.

“But that is behind us now,” the green bandana Adamantine said. “We have endeavored, ever since, to bring about a future for our people. We can, finally, save them.”

Adamantine was quiet. Her jaw moved as if moving for words, but she did not speak. She looked up, vacantly considering it. “Save them?” she wheezed, her eyes sparkling with hope.

“That is correct.”

After a few moment’s consideration, she looked back into the crystal ball. “And… how exactly do you plan to save them?”

The yellow bandana Adamantine smiled. “Ah. We were hoping that you might tell us. The plan is, after all… your idea.”

Twilight’s legs felt weak and she almost collapsed. She, instead, stumbled backward into her friends.

Adamantine’s handle on the other balls shifted as she brought this one before her and carefully considered her counterparts within. Shakily, she draped a hoof on the ball. “…My idea?”

“Yes, and we are ready to follow it through to the end.”

“You are our prime counterpart,” the brown bandana Adamantine said, her expression piercing. “And thus… we look to you.”

A portal opened behind Twilight and the six of them glanced back to find Starlight and Sunset scrambling through. The two skidded to a halt with crestfallen expressions. “Oh no…” Starlight wheezed.

Adamantine regarded her counterparts for a bit longer and then straightened to her full height. Every eye in the chamber followed her as she strode a ways toward the rear of the chamber. “Twilight… I think I’ve finally figured it out.” She turned. “I am the one behind all of this. I am the mastermind. I just... didn’t realize it until now.”

“T-that’s n-not…” Twilight stammered.

Adamantine’s expression grew grim and she clutched the crystal ball tighter. The other balls drew in close, surrounding her. “There exists a method with which you may bind an essence within the seal to a body that is not its own, provided the body exists. My companions… I submit to you a plan… to take those bodies of the ponies that we have gathered and trade them with those of our unponies.”

Twilight’s legs fell out from underneath her. The others let out short distressed cries and shocked whimpers.

Rarity inched forward. “Adamantine… whatever are you doing…?”

Adamantine met Rarity’s glance with a mild stare. She offered no reply.

“I see…” the blue bandana Adamantine replied. “So… they will have the bodies of normal ponies… and those normal ponies will have those decaying unpony bodies. A substitution.”

“That is correct,” Adamantine replied. “It will… allow our people to live the full lives they deserve.”

The Adamantines exchanged glances, each on their own processing it. Their muzzles swished from side to side, they stared into the distance, and they shifted in place. One of them nodded, the others followed suit, and they looked up. “That sounds like a good plan.”

“I am glad that you see so. As you may have already seen, much of the work has already been done, provided you send your orders back in time. Just as I am doing right now.”

“We understand.”

“I may also tell you where you might find a spell, which you may use as the framework to bring this about. Once you are able to find your way into my reality, you may find this spell in the chambers of Princess Celestia. And… you may find any number of able-bodied ponies here within my reality.”

“We are able to access it right now. We may take it as soon as we are done here.”

“There are… further logistics that we will need to discuss that, despite already seeing the results, I am not sure of all of the specifics. Thus, we will need to speak again later.”

The Adamantines smiled. “We are looking forward to it,” the red bandana Adamantine said.

The silver bandana Adamantine lit her horn and several portals appeared, all heading to different versions of the chamber. “I suppose, then, that we shall speak with you later.”

Adamantine nodded. “May The Great Benefactor grant you speed, my companions.”

The Adamantines went their separate ways, each heading into a different portal. The one that had opened them lingered behind, closing them as her counterparts passed through, before disappearing through a portal herself. The room lay empty.

Adamantine spent many long moments just looking into the crystal ball before her. Briefly, she floated the other balls close, registering her counterparts now within each of them. She hummed in affirmation.

She then glanced over to Twilight and company and some color immediately disappeared from her face. She sucked in a breath and quickly averted her eyes.

Twilight’s throat was dry. She tried to find her air and she shakily rose to her hooves. “Adamantine… what… why…?” she croaked.

Adamantine turned even further away.

A heat overtook Twilight’s body. She could feel it crawl up her spine. First, her hooves shook, then her body. Her lips pursed and her breath turned hot. “I… cannot believe you. You’d sacrifice the lives of thousands of ponies?”

“I would,” Adamantine croaked in response. “For them, I would do anything. Would you not do the same for your subjects?” She jabbed at her own heart. “For those that you love?”

Twilight shook her head. “This isn’t the way.”

Adamantine whirled around. “Then what is the way, Twilight Sparkle? May I remind you that your exhaustive list of ways have not worked?”

“We’re still trying! We just need more time to find something that will work.”

“But I have just discovered it. And I have a great many reasons to be certain that it will work.”

“N-now hold on just a bit,” Applejack said, stepping forward. “Ya can’t just go an’ do that. Them ponies will be killed.”

“Applejack is right,” Rarity seconded. “That’s extreme! And barbaric!”

Adamantine scowled and turned away.

“We’re gunna find something. You can bet on that,” Pinkie Pie said. “I Pinkie Promise that we’ll find something, you’ll see!”

“That is a promise that you cannot keep!” Adamantine thundered. She turned, a flame burning in her eyes. “If another way existed, you or your future self”—she stared at Twilight—“would have had it by now.”

Rainbow Dash’s teeth-grinding was drowned out by Sunset’s frustrated stomping.

Twilight shook her head. “Please, Adamantine… we need you to be patient.”

“I have been patient,” Adamantine replied, her voice cracking. “For months, I have. And in that time, I have already watched hundreds of them—no, a few thousand of them die. Every one of them is a dagger in me, Twilight. I can’t,” she said, pointing to her heart.

Twilight swallowed, unsure of whether to reply or not.

“You may find it,” Adamantine continued, “but it may take months, or years, or even lifetimes. They do not have that kind of time. Would you… truly suggest… that I wait around while they suffer and perish?”

Twilight stumbled backward, her stern expression shattering. She tried getting some words out, but they got caught in her throat. She hung her head. “No. I… No, I wouldn’t.” She sighed, pulling at her face. “I just… Gosh, I don’t know.”

Adamantine sighed, pacing about for a moment. “Twilight Sparkle… I want to make it clear that I have the utmost respect for you… and I bear no ill will. Not to you, not to Equestria, and not to her ponies. But… I cannot let this continue to happen to my people.”

She rose to her full height, looking at them down the end of her muzzle. “I am their queen, and their safety and well-being is on my hooves. And even if I were not, I love them more than anything else on this planet. They are my world, Twilight. And so… I will save them by any means necessary, even if that means playing the predator and making your ponies the prey.”

A long and pregnant pause passed through the room as the eight friends exchanged worried glances, all the while forgetting to take their breaths. Save Rainbow Dash, whose wings kept her aloft, they remained motionless.

Twilight Sparkle swallowed and stood to her full height as well. “And I think highly of you, Queen Adamantine. I know you want to save them, and I desperately want to help you do that. But this… this is fundamentally wrong.

“I am responsible, as princess of Equestria, for her citizens. And even if I wasn’t, I couldn’t stand by while this happens. I can’t stand by while you take the lives of innocent ponies… even if it’s just to survive. There is nothing that justifies that. So I can’t let you do this, and I will do everything in my power to stop you.”

Adamantine nodded. “I… understand. Then… it would seem this places us in direct opposition.”

“…Yes. It does.”

“And if that is the case… then I would suppose that makes you and me…”

Twilight held back some water that had been forming in her eyes. “Enemies.”

The low hum of some far away seismic activity caressed the room, ultimately serving to draw Twilight’s attention to her own thumping heart. She did not breathe. She wasn’t sure if she could breathe. The others stood as still as statues, also holding their breaths.

Oh, Adamantine…

Adamantine swallowed. Her expression looked apologetic, even. But she said nothing. After a few moments, she nodded resignedly and coursed energy into her horn.

In a single white flash, Adamantine and the crystal balls were gone, leaving the eight of them alone in the chamber.

“…Oh dear,” Fluttershy whimpered, collapsing.

Rarity started choking on her own air and fanned herself in order to stave it off.

Starlight and Sunset turned to each other, aghast.

Rainbow Dash floated back to the ground next to Pinkie Pie. They considered each other, only for their frowns to deepen.

Twilight stared at the spot where Adamantine had been standing, every other sense and thought nonexistent. After a few long and painful moments, she shuddered and glanced back to her friends in questioning, almost afraid of what they would say.

Her friends met her gaze, equally lost and afraid.

After a pause, Applejack held her hat against her chest and swallowed. “…Ah said it before and Ah’ll say it again. W-we’re with ya, Twilight. ...One hundred percent.”

The others nodded solemnly.

Twilight sucked in a breath and looked back toward the center of the chamber. “Alright then… girls. It looks like… we… have a terrible task ahead of us.”

Comments

[Thought Prism]

Wow. That was something.

Obviously, trying to predict the course this story will take is a nearly futile effort, but I'm gonna try anyway. The best resolution I can think of is this: Starlight takes responsibility and fixes the problem she started by using Starswirl's spell to go far back in time, before the Rainboom. In the past, she attaches a secure enchantment previously prepared by herself and the others to the seal. The enchantment would prevent essences removed from the seal from entering a body to which they do not belong. And since it was placed before the Rainboom, it would exist in all seven realities. Then, when Adamantine's plan doesn't work, all the unponies just die, I guess.

[Kuairu]

Twilight sucked in a breath and looked back toward the center of the chamber. “Alright then… girls. It looks like… we… have a terrible task ahead of us.”

Ain't that the truth.

[Nali]

The space-time manipulation these stories go through continues to be brain-bending, and yet I'm still completely riveted.

[RQK]

7691661 Happy to hear that, since it's exactly what I go for when I write!

7691302
An interesting theory! Just a couple thing to consider:
1. Starswirl's stock spell has a once-per-lifetime rule. This wouldn't exist, of course, with Starlight's modified spell, but if she tested the original...
2. Time could still be fixed. Is, was, will be. Can't be proven, though!

[ChaosDX1]

The lives of thousands are certainly enough to go to war over. But the unponies Adamantine has left seem like they could literally be taken out by a stiff breeze. Not much of an army. Adamantine must have something in her corner I missed. Maybe this plan is already far enough along that it can't be stopped.

[Csquared08]

Oh dear.

[Fallowsthorn]

...I wonder if, since Twilight is sort of the Nameless now, or in place of it, kind of, could there be some way to feed the unponies from her energy, made infinite somehow through either alicorn or timeline shenanigans? Hmm....

[BlueMoonHarlot]

Sometimes I figure someone with poor impulse control would be the first slider in an infinite chain to shatter it

Granted, the poor impulse control moment may become what's fixed, so instead you get an infinite chain of timeline A then B then A then B timelines