Equiforce

by Crack-Fic Casey

We All Fall Sometimes

Sunset and Celestia stood back to back in the center of the room. The crystals had grown rapidly, cutting off all avenues of escape.

“Could we burn our way through?” Sunset asked.

Celestia shook her head. “The crystals are absorbing magical energy. Any spell near them will simply be absorbed.” The queen threw her shield at the criss-crossing wall of spikes, creating a small hole for a brief second. It barely slowed the crystals down, as they grew over and around the damage. She caught the shield as it bounced back to them. “It’ll also counter teleportation.”

“Then what do we do?”

Celestia took a step forwards, standing protectively over her former student. “I don’t know.”

The castle has detected that: Sunset Shimmer, and: Unknown Alicorn, have become trapped in one of the hallways. Beginning message: Since you have failed so thoroughly to find a testing room, we shall have to make do here. Whenever you make a confession, the crystal spikes will slow down. The deeper the confession, the slower the spikes move. Have fun.

The two mares glanced at each other, before looking at the encroaching spikes.

“Sunset,” Celestia began. “Is there anything else you want to say?”

Sunset glared at the solar queen. “Me? Why do you always assume I’m in trouble?”

“Well,” the Alicorn bit out, “you have consistently been responsible for trouble in the past.”

“What about when you tried to get out of the Gala and…”

“That was different!”

The spikes continued their inexorable crawl forwards.

“Okay, uh…” Sunset wracked her head. There were several things that she hadn’t admitted she’d done, but it was common knowledge that she was responsible. “I was the one that put hot sauce in your teapot that you served the diplomats at that meeting!”

The spikes slowed fractionally. Emboldened, Sunset continued, “And I regret—”

The spikes sped up. “Oh, come on!”

Above her, Celestia frowned. “Choose your words more carefu— Ack!”

“Celestia?” Sunset twisted her head around and stared at the blood coming from a shallow cut in her former teacher's wing. Celestia held her wings flat to her sides, but in another minute it wouldn’t matter. “No! You have to—”

“Stay underneath me,” Celestia ordered in a tone that brooked no argument. “My armor might shield you from the spikes.

If you,Unknown Alicorn, believe that your superequine strength and armor will shield your friend, then you are gravely mistaken. The pressure exuded by the spikes will not abate until you are both crushed to death. I hope you choose to meet your death quickly, as damaged skeletons will make for poor guards.

“Stop obsessing over skeletons!” Celestia snapped. “Skeletons were never cool! I just told you they were to make you feel better!”

The spikes froze in place. After a few seconds, they began to move again, but at a fraction of their former speed. Celestia and Sunset glanced at each other.

Celestia looked back up towards where the ceiling was located. “I never took you seriously!” she shouted. “Despite everything, I couldn’t believe you when you said Luna was going to be taken by evil, and you were right. If you hadn’t taken the Elements away, I wouldn’t have discovered a way to save her from the Nightmare.”

The spikes didn’t slow down, but they didn’t speed up either.

“I never believed you were dead,” she whispered. “Not until this moment. As bad as things got between us, you wouldn’t actually try to kill me. You're just the leftovers of his intelligence, running a malfunctioning security system. Because the real Starswirl was far kinder and far wiser than I’ll ever be!”

Slowly, the spikes slowed their momentum to a crawl. They weren’t safe by any means, but they’d bought themselves a little time.

“Are you okay?” Sunset demanded.

Celestia nodded. “I’m always okay, Sunset.”

The spikes twitched forwards.

“What I mean is, I’m just as fine now as I ever am. She glanced at the walls that surrounded them. “Maybe a little less.”

The spikes, looking as reluctant as any inanimate object could, slowed again.

Sunset bit her lip. “Um… I’m sorry,” she said hesitantly. “For getting us into this mess. And for not helping.” She glanced hopefully around them, but there was no change. Carefully, she added, “And I’m sorry about what happened to Luna. If I’d known what they were going to do to her, I would have stopped it.”

Celestia nodded. “I know.”

The two pressed their bodies against each other, desperately trying to think of something, anything that could save them. Celestia went first. “Why do you think you need to have power to matter?”

“What makes you think I do?”

The spikes leaped forwards by a solid inch. Panicked, Sunset yelled, “I mean I do! Of course I do!”

They briefly froze in place, suspended a very short distance from Sunset. They weren’t the foremost on her mind, however. Her own words were. Words that were, evidently, true.

What? That’s… that can’t be true. I’m not some... shallow...

But it made sense. You had to earn power. Ponies with power worked their way to the top, so they deserved all the stuff they had. If you didn’t have power, if you didn’t put everything you had into becoming better, then you’d just be walked over by those who did have what it took.

Except for her. Celestia’s nice. She’s kind. And she’s the most dangerous person I’ve ever met. And she doesn’t think that way. So...

The spikes were a hair's breadth away. Sunset needed to find a way to slow them down, now. “Why didn’t you let me study the mirror?” she blurted out.

Celestia tensed, caught off guard. “I told you, you weren’t ready for such-”

“Maybe I wasn’t,” Sunset interrupted. The spikes froze again. “No, I wasn’t, but— before, when I didn’t know something, you’d show me how it worked. We’d work on it together. What was different about the Mirror? ”

Miraculously, the spikes remained paused. Celestia didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she asked; “What did you think when I said no?”

You’re deflecting, Sunset wanted to say. But Celestia had already confessed something, even if it was something that Sunset didn’t understand. She sighed. “I thought you didn’t trust me. We hadn’t had a real lesson in weeks, you were just going through the motions. I thought you were going to…” her voice choked out. She had never said this out loud. If she wasn’t worried they were going to die, she would never have. “I was scared you were going to get rid of me.”

There was no motion, not from anything. The words hung in the air like a heavy fog, muffling sound and weighing things down. After an eternity passed, Celestia spoke again. “Do you remember what happened with Trixie?”

She did. Oh stars, she did. “...Yes.”

Celestia carefully controlled her voice, trying to sound calming and understanding. Of course, since Sunset had heard it so often in the past, she’d learned to associate it with unpleasantness. “You were becoming… challenging. And I’d started to get reports. Ponies were saying that you were being… less than honest about your relationship with the other students. Your confrontation with her was one of the things that made me question whether or not I was teaching you the way I was supposed to.”

Each word was spoken gently, driving nails into Sunset’s heart as pleasantly as possible. “You were going to get rid of me,” she whispered.

“Oh, Sunny, “ and a part of her wanted to break when she heard her old nickname, “I had no intention of abandoning you. Even if you weren’t my student, we would have still—”

“What?” Sunset shouted. “And remember if you don’t tell me the truth, we’ll both die. If you had… formally dismissed me, what would we be? Maybe I’d find some nice job, and maybe I could have become something nice, but you still wouldn’t be my teacher. You would still have gotten rid of me. That wouldn’t change that I was never good enough for you!”

Celestia froze. Slowly, the spikes began to retract. Sunset didn’t care. She lay curled up in a ball underneath her queen. “I was never good enough,” she whispered.

Celestia wrapped a wing around her and pulled the young mare into a hug. “It was never about being good enough, Sunset. Friendship is about loving someone, flaws and all.”

A part of Sunset wanted to be upset with the platitude. A much bigger part of her just wanted to keep hugging the closest thing to a mother she had.

---

This is the greatest day ever! Twilight thought to herself as she watched the secret door slowly open up. Behind her, the human girl leaned heavily against a bookshelf and tried to catch her breath. Twilight did feel a twinge of guilt at that; the human might die because of her.

Still, it wasn’t like there was a choice. Rainbow and Luna are depending on you.

Twilight trotted easily down the corridor, slowing down for a brief second to allow the human to catch up before speeding up again. There’s not a lot of time to waste. Leave her behind if you have to; we need to get on track.

“Are you… sure this is the right way?” the human asked, winded. “It could be… a trap.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Twilight replied imperiously. “We found this door in a library. Who’d put something bad in a library?”

“I guess you guys.... Don’t have… The Twilight Saga, do you?”

Twilight flicked her ears in annoyance. “Very few bad things,” she said, less imperiously than before. “But I take your point.” She paused before asking, “Do you guys have Fifty Shades of Gray too?”

Diane’s groan of pain was all the answer she needed.

Amusing, but we have to keep moving. We have to find Starlight Glimmer and make sure she’s okay. She might have a clue as to how to get the Elements.

Twilight stopped at an intersection, thinking. Let’s see. These passageways don’t have the crystals like the hallway did, so the castle can’t monitor us. I’d say that Starswirl created this as a backup in case the Dream Castle systems were ever compromised by somepony. Somewhere down here is a way to disable whatever intelligence is governing the security system. Of course, since Starswirl didn’t want anypony other than him running around down here, it’s intentionally confusing. It’s a good thing I’m so smart, otherwise, we’d be in trouble.

Twilight carefully lit her magic, ignoring her stinging scars. She cast her field as far as she dared, carefully looking for anything helpful. Above them, she could Feel the spells fueling the crystalline maze. There were a few minor oddities, like a surge of Pegasus magic streaking across—

Wait, is that Dash?

The magic felt so alive, boiling over and ricocheting away from it’s source. It was so much brighter and stronger than the surroundings. That has to be her! I need to get up there!

No! Wait! If we go up there now, we’ll lose the element of surprise. We’d be of far more use deactivating the castle than wasting time going after some guardsmare.

Twilight growled, tail lashing, before turning and stalking forwards. A part of her, a very large part of her, wanted to drop everything and save her friend. But logically, remaining underneath the castle would yield better results. It’d be better to stay on the down-low and attack from underneath, where she had the advantage of surprise.

Behind her, the human was moving slower and slower. Twilight was at several points forced to wait for her to catch up. She scraped the ground with her front hoof, very eager to get moving already. “Can you hurry up? We don’t have a lot of time!”

The human shook her head, panting heavily. The shot of magic Twilight had given her was starting to wear off, and she was slowing down. She fell on all fours, limbs shaking. Twilight could see the sweat dripping from her forehead, and the girl slumped over on the ground.

Leave her. She is of no use.

A part of Twilight was okay with that, but she still hesitated. After all, Diane’s current state was directly her own responsibility.

There’s no time to help her. Let’s just move on. We don’t need anypony to help us. We’ve always been fine on our own.

Twilight blinked. “...What was that?” she whispered. No, of course we need friends, she thought to herself. Without friendship, we never would have become Luna’s apprentice. Her eyes widened as the unique sensation of panic made itself known.

...What do I mean, ‘we’?

She turned around, looking up and down the corridor. She appeared to be alone, but she was beginning to realize that such appearances were deceiving. “There’s something out there, isn’t there?” she called. “No, sorry, not out there. You’re in here, aren’t you?” She tapped her head. “You’ve been directing me without me realizing it for… I don’t even know how long, but it ends now!”

“Oh͡, do͘es i̷t?”

The voice in Twilight's head grew louder, more defined. It took on a deeper, darker tone. Twilight ignored the deep sense of foreboding and took a step forwards. “Yeah, one way or another. I joined the Lunar Guard to stop monsters like you, and if there’s one thing Luna taught me, it's that the most important thing anypony can do is to protect the defenseless. I’m not going to let you use me to hurt anypony else. I’m going to save… whatever this person’s name is, and then we are going to bring you down.”

A low whine made Twilight jump out of her skin. It took her a moment to realize that it was the castle. Beginning Playback: Thought you’d escaped me, hadn’t you? If you were half as clever as you think you are, you would have realized that there was a second spell needed to prevent the Dream Caste from seeing you down there. After all, it wouldn’t do for any intruders to simply wander in after finding the trapdoor in the library, would it?

...Crap.

Now, there was a nice little test involving a swarm of carnivorous insects and a seemingly bottomless pit that would have tested for loyalty, but that element has been claimed by:b] Rainbow Miriam Dash.

Twilight’s heart leapt. Dash is here! Wait, her middle name is Miriam? A sly grin crept across her face.Noted.

Now, for : Fighting off a strong mental compulsion, and, taking responsibility for your actions, you: Twilight Sparkle, have proven yourself worthy to-

“Tha̶t’s quite eǹo͜u̴g͡h́ of tha͞t.”

The voice of Starswirl cut off, hissing with static. Through the noise, a new voice emerged, one that sounded terrifyingly familiar. “Did y͢o̕u really ̸t̨h̵ink an in͢sp̴i̷rati͟on͡a͜l̛ realization ab̨o̵ut thè magic of friendship ͏was̡ all it w͡oul͜d͟ ͞táke?”

Twilight back away from the walls, standing protectively over top of the girl. In between the mysterious voice’s proclamations, the recording of Starswirl would attempt to speak. Warnng. The Dream Castle’s operating- M͢y dea͝r, ̨yoú h͡a̢v̴e͝ ͘no̡ ́i͜d̴e͞a͘the ͡fo͘r̕c̛es w͜it̴h w͏hi̶ćh͟ ͝y̷o͡u are̛ interfearing -being overridden. Flee in terror. Flee i͡n t̛err͝͞o̶̧͜r.”

“I’m͟ afraid it͏’s͠ far t͟o̡o ̧lat̴e f͏o͝r̢ you t͞o try͠ resisting ̡m̴e. I̛’ve͘ ͏b͏ee͝n s͞ettin͞g ͝t̵his ųp for a l̡o̢ng͢ ̧time, a͜nd͘ you simply ha͠v̧e̶n’t th͞e strength t̵o̕ ̧figh̨t. Wḩy ̡I̧ ̷h̡ad̛ Starlight G̢li̛mḿe̛r ‘befriend ̸yo̷u? ̧Why I wanted th͡e͟ ̕D̛rea̴m̀ ͡Cas͟tl͜e created ̧t̀o begin w̡ith̀? S͝ǫ thaţ, if need be, I could do t̵̵͠h̸̢̛͠͏ì͞ş͏.”

Twilight gasped as pain lanced across her temple. Her Feel- there weren’t words for it. Each of the three tribes had a different Feel for their own form of magic, and each were extraordinarily difficult to explain with words. Suffice to say, it hurt, and it was a uniquely special kind of hurt.

“Yoư ͏wi̴l͢l͝ dò a͘s I ́s͠ay̴, Twi͢li͢gh̕t ́Sp̢ar͠kle͘.̡ I don’t care wh͜a͠t y͏ou͢’ve been in ̴other̴ worldlines; ͝he͠re y̡où ̸a̢re ̀my ͡slav͟e.”

The voice’s words echoed in her mind with a finality, speaking as if It was dictating a truth and It just had to wait until the rest of reality realized that fact. Twilight screamed as her sanity turned and fled.

---

Diane found herself staggering through some kind of dense green fog. She’d lost track of where she was. It almost didn’t even look like she was in a castle anymore; the wind blew cold and she felt like she was stepping over rubble. The ground shook, and in the distance, she could hear what sounded like an avalanche rumbling in the distance. Everything felt unreal, almost dreamlike. The wind passed over her body again, and she shivered.

“H̢o̸w… interesting.”

Diane spun around, searching for the source of the voice. It seemed to come from all around her, and there was something profoundly disturbing about it.

“Óh, ỳo̧u don’t ńęed ͠to f͏ea̵r me͜, little ͏on̢e. I’m͡ bu͢t ̵a humble S͏p̀iri̕t, wa͠n͜d̕e̶ŗing ͞be͏tw̨ęen the ͠Realms. W͜ho a͠ŗe y̕ou?”

There was no part of Diane that wasn’t immediately terrified by this voice. “I’d rather not say.”

“Hm, ͟You͘ are ͡a c̢aut͜ious g͠irl.͟ ̧I was ͏on̸l͘y̧ askiņg t͝o ͘b̛e polite, y͝où ̨knơw. ͝I already k̷n͡ow wh̶o͞ yo̷u͠ ar͠e, Diane.

Diane shivered as… it, said her name. It was like every signal it sent bespoke of power. She wanted to find it creepy, couldn’t think of a reason not to find a creepy, and yet still wanted to hear it keep talking.

“T̨e̡lĺ me, my̢ ̛friend: W͢hat͡ ͏do͝ ́yoư see?”

Diane looked around her. “Well, aside from all of this green mist, there’s rubble, I guess? And there’s some kind of mountain over there. Is it falling apart?”

It nodded. It took Diane a second to realize that it had somehow nodded without having a head. “N̕ot̀ ̨b̷ad. ̛Çome;͢ let ̧us͘ move closer ͠aǹd see w͜h̵a͏t we can s̡ee.”

Diane found herself somehow following along. Further away, she could see what looked like a mountain, having some kind of fireworks display. She could see flashes of light and hear small explosions. One of them must have set off another avalanche because the top of the mountain appeared to collapse and she heard the low rumbling again. She frowned. You’d think they’d be more careful—

And then the light shifted, and Diane realized that wasn’t a mountain.

Illuminated by the light of its fire breath, the dragon roared so loud it could not only be heard from dozens of miles away by Diane, but she could hear it echoing further away across the horizon. It was entirely possible that the sheer volume of the roar could be causing as much damage to the city as its fire and claws. What she had thought was the top of the mountain was actually its head, and rather than collapsing, it had simply looked down so as to kill things more efficiently. The silver beast lashed out, knocking over a tower Diane was sure was as tall as a skyscraper. Dust and debris filled the air, obscuring part of the monster from view. It also filled a suspiciously large portion of the city that had previously been occupied by a military of some kind firing on the creature.

“A̸h, E͜quéstria is fa͢r less͏ than the̢ pęrf͏ect̡ ͏l͘a͞nd of ̛pe͟ace a̴ńḑ prosperity ͡it was advertised as.”

Diane wanted to back away, but she found herself glued in place. “...Why is that happening? What did they do? How are they going to stop it?”

“It’sn happ͏ęn̸in͟g because t̀h̕e͟y simpl̛y h͠ap̀pened t̴o e͜xist i͠n c̕l͝o͜se͝ ̷proximi͘t̷y͡ t͏o͢ a d͢r̸a̛gon͏. ̧A̸ǹd as foŕ w̴h̛o͡ wi̸l͠l stop hi̧m... ̵I ͠do beleive ̢the͝y̧ ju̢st̨ die̕d́.”

Diane shook her head, unable to turn away. “No. There’s no way. It can’t end like that.”

“W̛e͠ll, it did.͞ ͝Wi͏shi̢ng doesn’t alter facts, my ̀s̷w͏e͏e͘t̀.

Diane wanted to protest her new nickname, but couldn’t muster up the courage. “No. I don’t believe that. Even if he does destr—”

With a terrifying crash, the last tower fell. The dragon slowly leaped into the sky, its wings so huge that despite the distance, Diane could barely see the whole thing at once. It bathed the entire city with its flame until the very walls surrounding the city began to melt.

Diane swallowed. “...Even after the city is gone,” she said much more uncertainty, “then someone will stop that thing.”

“Hm͝. How?”

“I don’t know!” she snapped. “I mean… if something that big and scary can exist, why couldn’t something as powerful but good exist too? Where are the good dragons?”

“Ever the͘ optimist, I ̨see. W͡h̢at̕ ̀įf ̧I tol͏d yo̡u͘ there weren’t a̕ny̛ g̵o͞o̷d dr͝ag͠o̷ns͡? Wòu͟ld ͞y͏ou ͘b̕eli̵evé me?

Diane shook her head, feeling like she was pulling against a huge weight. “There's always good somewhere.”

“Is that so̕? This w̷ay̴.”

Diane followed, watching the city crumble over her shoulder. The dragon roared again, as the molten stone began to flow outwards and consume the surrounding countryside.

It was difficult to tell how far they walked; it was long enough for Diane to lose track of how long it had been but too short for the girl to start to feel tired or hungry. Assuming that I can get tired here. Am I dreaming?

Over to her left, Diane heard rubble being shifted and voices shouting in unison. Through the mist, she could see shapes moving. As she drew nearer, they resolved themselves to be humans, trying to clear away some rubble. She realized that the sound was muted; even though she was right next to the workers she couldn’t make out their words. Just how loud was that dragon?

“Y͠ou needn’t fea̡ŗ; they͝ can’t see̡ you͡. A͘t̀ th͞e moment, m͟u͞ch ̧l͘ike m̸e, yo̕u ́aŕe̢ bùt ͜a spirit loo͘kin͡g th͏r̢o͝ugh the Nothing into o͘the͝r̷ points i̧ǹ ̧time an̶d͏ ͠space. ̨Tel͡l me͏; what c͝an͠ you see̵ ͘no͢w?”

Diane cautiously moved closer. “I think they’re trying to rescue somebody. It’s hard to tell when I can’t hear what they’re saying.” She accidentally tripped, her hand floating through the rock piles as she fought to get her bearings. Diane glanced at her ghostly arm and looked back at the pile of rubble. Grinning, she shoved her way through into the building itself.

Her grin swiftly faded. Inside was the small figure of a boy. She had no idea how old he was. He was lying half underneath a thick block of stone, clearly dead. Diane backed away slowly, before turning and running for her life.

“T̢ell me͞ ̨wh͏at͡ ͢you ̀sáw.”

Diane ignored the voice and charged ahead as fast as she could. There has to be some way, any way to get out of this place.

“T̢ell me͞ ̨wh͏at͡ ͢you ̀sáw.”

Diane gritted her teeth and charged onwards. Just a little bit further. There’ll be something just a little bit further—

Diane tripped and slammed to the ground, briefly seeing stars. She lay for a moment, trying to catch her breath.

“T̢ell me͞ ̨wh͏at͡ ͢you ̀sáw.”

“No!” Diane shouted desperately .”What are you! Why are you doing this?”

“T̢ell me͞ ̨wh͏at͡ ͢you ̀sáw.”

“He’s dead!” Diane broke out. “That kid was dead! It doesn’t matter what they do; he’s been dead for ages.”

“Thoşe people ma̕y have ͝be͡eǹ ‘good’, ͜but̀ does it̸ matter? The͘ ch̵il̴d̨ i̷s st̀ill de͢a͞d, an͞d many ͢mor͏e b̷e̕s̷i͡de̷s. Sǫ many̡ ̀peopl͠e díe͞ ͢ever͞y da̴y, a̶lone an͡ḑ forgotten. Why b̶ot́her͞ caring ́abou̶t sòm͟èthi̶ng tha̛t’s pointless?”

Diane drew in a shaky breath. “Because that’s not the only thing that can happen. My dad was a reporter. His stories were about people that risked their lives saving people, and he taught me that even if you can’t win every time, that doesn’t somehow mean the people who do live stop existing!”

“Brave͏. Wo̵uld̡ y͢oú like͢ to ask ̷hi̷m?”

Diane wiped her tears with her sleeve. “What?”

“Wo̵uld y͢oú like͢ to ask ̷hi̷m?”

“I can’t! It’s impossible!”

“W͝hy?”
Diane looked down, praying with all of her might that she could get away, that someone would somehow help her. “You know why,” she whispered. “You can’t possibly not know.”

“Teļl̡ m͜e.”

“He’s dead,” Diane hissed. She’d never said it out loud before, and it stung as it fell out of her mouth. “Because he’s dead, and I can’t ever see him again!”

“Can͡’t you?”

Behind her, she could hear footsteps approaching. slowly, she turned and faced the final vision.

The man was tall, with Asian features and long, windswept hair. He wore his biker's outfit, a long dark brown leather jacket, gloves, his white helmet and a long white scarf. All of it was just as she remembered. Worst of all was his face. Once, his mouth would have turned up into a comforting smile, his solemn eyes shining with a hidden compassion. Now, he stood to attention, staring straight ahead, unthinking and unmoving.

Diane shakily stood and threw her arms around the specter of her father.

“H̢e had ͏a͡ heart at͝ta͢ck͢, did he͢ not?”

Diane nodded, pulling him tighter. He didn’t hug her back. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t ask why she was crying. He stood there like some action figure, stiff and uncaring. He’s not real, she told herself. This isn’t him. Stop hugging him. Get up. Move. But she didn’t. She just held on as tight as she could.

“Your fathér͏ was ́a won͝derf̨u͟l̶ person. He ̵i͠s dead. Caring about hįm di͢d͞n’t save ͡hi͟m. B͢e͝ing͡ ̴a̢ good person di̵ḑn͘’̵t͡ help h̨im.͝ So͝ what ̸w̧as the ͜p̸oint?”

Diane shook her head. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

“W̕o̴u̴l͘dn’t it ͟b͝e̢ easi͘èr t̛o͞ ̛li̕ve ̸a life ̷w̡ith͟out p̵a͞in?”

Around her, the world started to fade to grey. “Yes,” she whispered. She felt herself begin to grow numb. Memories of her life flashed through her head, and she winced at the pain they caused.

“S̀o wh͘y şh̀o͠ul̛d ͏yơu waste time̴ be͞i͏ng̨ ͠ha̷ppy͞ whe̵n it d̨o͘esņ’t ma̢ke ͠any̛th̷íņg ͏b̀et̴te̕r?

“Because… because he wanted me too.”

The Spirit spoke again, but this time Diane didn’t hear it. Her mind flashed to one of the last times she saw her father alive.

Diane ducked into her father's room. His luggage was already packed, and most of it was in the car downstairs. “Hey!” she said cheerfully as she leaped onto his bed.

Her father smiled warmly. “Hello, Diane. I haven’t seen you all day.”

She shrugged. “Sorry, I was hosting a birthday party for one of the kids. It was so much fun! There wasn’t a lot of stuff, like at those rich houses, but the mom made a bunch of really cool party games, and there were sugar cookies, and when you have that it’s like ‘Why bother with a real cake anyway,’ ya know?”

“I suppose.” Her dad knelt down and rooted through his bottom dresser drawer. “Have you seen my camera?”

“The old film one?” Diane shook her head. “No, but you still have your phone. Unless something happens to your phone like its battery runs out or it gets wet. Do film cameras still work if they get wet?”

“It depends.” He stood up and walked over to his closet. “Did you come in here for something specific, Diane? I love to listen to you talk, but I do need to leave soon.”

Diane didn’t respond immediately. She lay back on the bed, resting her head against the backboard.

“Ah.” Her father put his luggage down and sat down next to her. “What is it, kiddo?”

Diane took her time answering, wanting to find the right words. “I… it was the family. At the party. They’re doing okay right now, but they haven’t been. Mr. Frederickson lost his job, and they had to move to a smaller house, and then little Al got sick, and…” Diane fished for the right words. “I dunno, it was just a lot. I haven’t been charging them for babysitting, but they almost lost their house, and they still might, if the factory starts laying people off too,” she sighed. “I know wishing the world was perfect is kinda stupid, but sometimes I just feel like everything's so wrong.”

Her father nodded. “I know what you mean.” I’ve been asking that for a long time.”

Diane rolled on her stomach she could see him better. “Do you find an answer?”

“There isn’t an answer.” He said. He blinked, noting her expression in confusion and then in worry. “No, sorry. Not like that, uh...He bit his lip, searching for the right words.

“You can’t fix the entire world with magic,” he finally settled on. “If God or someone fixed everything for us, or even most things for us, we wouldn’t do anything for ourselves. I’m not saying that fixes everything, I just think that we shouldn’t waste time with whys. We should fight, no matter how dark the world gets. Just remember what I always say…”

“Just keep on keepin’ on,” Diane murmured.

“Wha̸t͘?”

Diane shook her head and stepped back. “Just something someone said once, that’s all.” She lifted one end of the imposters scarf and beamed. “Nice scarf, buddy. Do we shop at the same store?” It was an old line, but it helped. She could feel color flooding back into her world.

“W̴ha͠t̕ ͡is the meaning ̛of this?”

“This— A pronoun used to identify a specific thing or person close at hand being indicated or experienced,” Diane recited casually. She giggled. “Silly. Everybody knows that.”

The voice hesitated briefly. “Şo, you ̕intend͘ t̢o fight͟ after all̷.”

Diane grinned cheekily. “Daddy didn’t raise a quitter!”

“Ve̡ry w͢eĺļ. It ̸won͘’t m͘a̷ke a͠ difference ͜in̡ ͘t̛h͞e͟ long ͠r̨un. I always ̵wi͠n͟ ͟įn ͠t́h͝e ̀end.”

Diane winked at the vaguely demonic cosmic entity. “We’ll see! Better luck—”

“Next time,” Diane mumbled. She wearily opened her eyes, to find that she was back inside the castle. She felt emptied out again like her heart had been scraped raw. She was also having trouble standing. Whatever Twilight did, it must have worn off.

Gritting her teeth, she forced herself upright. Diane couldn’t see Twilight anywhere; she must have gone on ahead. Well, one less thing to worry about! Slowly, she took one step forwards.

Her leg screamed in agony. Most of the rest of her body joined in. Diane nearly fell to the ground.

She gritted her teeth and took a second step. And then a third. Slowly, she worked her way up the hallway, searching for a way out.

The castle was shaken by tremors. She ignored it. Diane staggered forwards, driven on by one single thought.

Keep on keepin’ on.

Comments

[Crack-Fic Casey]

Ah, poor Sunset. Things really aren't going to get better for a while. I actually had no idea what Sunset's backstory was going to be until I sat down to work on this. It took me ages, and of course Dinode was very helpful as always. I can't remember how much he suggested, but I'm sure it was up there.

Diane's discussion with her father was all me, and I'm a little worried it's too preachy. I re-wrote it several times.

Twilight's about to get screwed over in a bad way too, but she's represented in a positive light later, so don't worry. Things will get better.

Sunset didn't receive an Element largely because Honesty was taken. As the Dream Castle noted, they weren't in a real testing room. It kept trying to kill them anyway because it's not sapient; it's an A.I. (Actually, it's called an A.M, or Automation Matrix, in Equestria.) Celestia might have received Magic for showing Sunset unconditional love, except she didn't show Sunset that; she tried to teach her a lesson.

The Royal Guard are literally trained to trick villains into monologues.

I hope the Morphing Sequence went well; I feel pretty confident, but they aren't usually a good thing in other stories.

Sunset did what she always did with doubt; she kicked it in the neck and left its dead corpse behind her as she forged ahead.

This is both the best and worst quality Sunset has. She can do basically anything she set her mind too, but she has a real problem learning from her mistakes. To teach her something you practically have to break her down. She'll come around by the end of the series. but it'll be a while. I'm also sad to say that she's pretty much out of the rest of the fight as well. Her part in story one is nearly done.

You won't believe how long it took me to figure out Ranger colors. I didn't settle on this until well after this chapter was written. Also, new Ranger color! *Achievement Unlocked*

The Monster design was tricky as well; since it wasn't going to be in the story as much, I needed something instantly memorable.

I'm happy with Abigail's scene; I always like heroes who fight intelligently rather than with overwhelming power.

I think this is the first time I've had ponies fight one another, and I like how it turned out. It was a little brief, but I feel confident that it how ponies would fight, as opposed to simply mapping out human combat over a quadrupeds body and ignoring the bits that don't make sense. I realize only really made up three moves (Rainbow stuns Starlight with wind, and then spins around to buck her sideways, and dislocating Starlight's forelegs) but I'm still happy with it. You'll also notice how Twilight keeps using the same Pegasus moves over and over again; that's because she learned them from watching Rainbow train, and very few of them can be learned visually.

I've always wondered why speedsters waste time running in a circle around whoever they're fighting instead of just punching them.

Tell me if alternating between proper names and Ranger designations is confusing.