Spectrum

by Sledge115

Act II ~ Chapter Twenty ~ Accept The Dawn

Spectrum

The Team

TheIdiot
Rest in peace Terry Jones. May you not get troubled by Spam any further.

DoctorFluffy
Note: Poochie died on the way to his home planet

VoxAdam
As Kurt Vonnegut would say, ‘So it goes’.

Sledge115
Thus always to tyrants

RoyalPsycho

TB3

Kizuna Tallis

ProudToBe

Chapter Twenty
Accept The Dawn

* * * * *

“What is the cost of lies? It’s not that we’ll mistake them for the truth. The real danger is that if we hear enough lies, then we no longer recognise the truth at all. What can we do then? What else is left but to abandon even the hope of truth and content ourselves instead with stories? In these stories, it doesn’t matter who the heroes are. All we want to know is: ‘Who is to blame?’”
— Valery Legasov, from Chernobyl

~ Jarden, Texas, USA ~ November 17th, 2024 CE ~

Maxine’s eyes snapped open.

She exhaled and massaged her face. She knew where she was. She remembered everything. She was in Jarden again, back in her old home, and had spent the night in the guest bed. Dad, bless his heart, didn’t need her to sleep in her old bedroom. She just couldn’t do it.

‘The Princess. Damn her for bringing me back here.’ Maxine thought bitterly, as she swung her legs over the bedside. ‘I could have done without another nightmare.’

Muttering, she slipped a dressing-gown over her night-clothes, and went for the door.

A good thing Dad hadn’t brought up the last friend she’d taken here. If he had, then she would have left and never come back. Though honestly, maybe this would have spared her the reminder that, surprise, family was more dysfunctional than one cared to admit.

Yes, the young Maxine Radwick hadn’t really considered how Mom had doted on her more than Alex. No wonder he’d joined the military... Yes, even into adulthood, Maxine hadn’t really understood how Alex resented her and Dan. And, yes, Maxine hadn’t paid attention to the fact she had an aunt whom Mom rarely visited, and an uncle they’d never met.

She remembered her phone ringing five years ago. The last time she’d heard from her mother. A frantic, desperate call begging for her to take Agnes, pack the car, and drive straight down to Jarden. She’d thought this was ridiculous.

For days, the news channels were filled with pictures of that energy-sphere, or whatever it was, expanding in Geneva. But this had been happening far away, in Europe. They would be fine. So long as things weren’t happening in America, then Americans would always be fine. She even remembered bringing this up to…

… Well, she remembered what that had ultimately cost her. Every night, Maxine Radwick remembered the day her world collapsed. And had she not got out of DC, she wouldn’t even be there to remember it.

A broiling purple cloud, rising across the Potomac. Like many others, she had been standing outside her car, stopped along Interstate 395. Perhaps it was only something her mind conjured up afterwards, influenced by what footage made it out of the city, but even at this distance, she’d heard the screams, and how they abruptly fell silent.

She’d later learn the Purple Mist had been global, affecting capitals and metropolises, and America was the worst hit. Not just Washington DC. Los Angeles, Chicago, Detroit, Houston…

Once past the initial lobbying against Conversion Bureaus – truly, Big Pharma had done a complete about-face on that one – America had wanted to be the country with the most Bureaus. And thus when the Mist was unleashed, they’d felt it hard.

But it was towards Equestrians that her feelings were never quite the same. Yes, Maxine had heard it all before, from plenty of people – even her brother. But the last time she trusted an Equestrian, she’d left DC empty-handed.

“… Careful!” she heard Dan exclaim. “Careful, don’t press it too hard, it’s not rated for hooves.”

“Sorry, sorry, let me just… there we go.”

“Good, now if you’d excuse me…”

That brought Maxine out of her thoughts. She was almost halfway down the stairs. Apparently, mulling over old scars turned you into a sleepwalker.

‘Better check what they’re up to.’

With a few more steps, Maxine reached the bottom and entered the living room, catching a peculiar sight. Namely, Princess Luna, free of any regalia and still in her little-pony disguise, laying on the sofa with a laptop.

Her Dad noticed her, giving her a quiet nod as he limped past her, towards the kitchen.

“Ahh, good morning, Miss Radwick,” Luna said, without looking up. “I see you too have woken up early.”

“Force of habit. Why are you up?”

“Oh, I simply forgot, I don’t have to lower the Moon here,” Luna replied, shrugging. “But, at least, I did get to use this… fascinating device.”

Well, it was said Princess Luna could move a Moon. It made sense she’d be innately nocturnal.

“Look! Your father was kind enough to show how, so I made myself an ‘email’,” said Luna, turning the laptop around. Squinting, Maxine saw it was a Gmail inbox. Empty, and bare of any flashy themes. “But wait, let me try this and...”

Her horn lit up, pressing the keys by magic. Right after, a lone email popped up in her inbox.

“Ta-dah!” Luna exclaimed cheerfully. “See? My, isn’t this exciting!”

“You just sent an email to yourself,” Maxine said dryly, pulling at her gown’s sleeves.

“I know, right? Tia told me how the post office works, that’s true, but this...” Luna shook out her mane, laughing freely. “And Dan told me one could send mail to the other side of the world, in mere seconds. If only Tia was here to see it– paper and parchment, bah, so old-fashioned! I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”

Try as she might, Maxine had trouble picturing it. A Celestia, any Celestia, showing a benevolent interest in human technology, after everything that had happened…

Still, fancy coming upon her Dad explaining to someone older than him how to use a computer.

“And, I must say, there’s considerably more to this than I’d expected. Oh, if only I had time! To think that your archives, the realm in which you keep your knowledge, are accessed so easily– I could almost envy this ‘Internet’! And that doesn’t even cover how this curious device works… hmm, to do so much in so little a space, I simply must know!”

“That’s what they said before, you know,” Dan’s voice called out as he limped towards them, two mugs in his hands. “That’s how it started. All the sweet talk of joining magic and tech… Well, look where we are now, Luna.”

Taking one of the mugs, Maxine thought Luna looked deflated. The alicorn-in-disguise sighed, blowing away a strand of blue mane.

“A grim reminder,” Luna said solemnly, before also accepting a coffee from Dan. It hovered in a blue glow of TK as her eyes fell upon the two journals on the coffee table.

“Hm, you made any headway on those?” Dan asked, taking a seat in his special sofa. “Always been gobbledygook, far as I’m concerned. I mean, it’s like I told you last night, I did think it might be written in… in Equestrian, for a bit.”

Willing herself to, Maxine remained standing, ignoring hunger pangs to settle for coffee as well.

“Alex insisted on learning Equestrian,” Maxine commented, feeling the heat rise off the mug between her palms. “When his star started rising in the PHL. Dunno why, not like he needed to, not with that weird thing Equus folks’ve got that let’s ‘em learn languages fast...”

“You mean the Gift of Tongues,” said Luna. “That only applies to alicorns. Regular ponies still must learn an alphabet before the magic takes effect.”

“Funny,” said Maxine. “I kinda thought those runes on Alex were Equestrian.”

“Nothing I recognised, alas…”

Dan nodded knowingly. “Aye, and from what I can tell, none of this here ain’t written in Equestrian or any alphabet from Equus.”

“Not a current one,” Luna agreed. “When we first met Captain Reiner, we were interested to note he spoke in Modern Equish, but thought nothing of it at the time. This, by contrast…” She traced an arc over the journals. “It’s a collection of bedtime stories, written in Old Ponish. Stories my sister and I heard as foals– Dream Valley, Grogar, Midnight Castle… All distilled, of course. Yet you say these were written by a young girl. These stories date back thousands of years. And Megan Williams wrote them as if she was there.”

“What’s that mean?” Maxine found herself asking. “That Mom’s got a connection with these bedtime stories you grew up on?”

“Yes, Maxine Radwick. To what capacity, I’m not sure,” Luna admitted, “but I am certain her connection to these tales of old are crucial. What that means for Equestria, though…”

“You said you heard them as a foal,” Maxine continued. “Does that mean you… I don’t know, is there some truth to them?”

“They were already old when Tia and I were children,” said Luna. “And the last pony who bore witness to those old days, she passed away when we were very young. We were lucky enough to have even met her in Adlaborn.”

She tapped one of the journals.

“And to hear Firefly spoken of so fondly, in these pages… I believe in Megan’s story.”

There was a small pause as both Dan and Maxine mulled over the news. This lasted until Luna turned her attention back to the laptop.

“Hm… You said this Goggle is a ‘search’ device, Dan? A catalogue of sorts?”

“... Google?” Dan said. “Yeah. It’s a search engine. You type what you want, and it’ll pop up.”

“Ah, then have you tried…” Luna said, typing away with her magic. On the screen, the words ‘Megan Williams’ began to form in the bar. “… This?”

Luna hit the ‘enter’ key. Maxine’s eyes remained fixed on the screen. But the counter indicated more than a hundred million results had been found. And none of the pictures on the front page were her mother.

Undeterred, Luna continued to browse a few minutes, till she harrumphed, conceding failure.

“Nothing. Nothing about these stories… Dan, I thought you said–”

“Google knows a lot,” Maxine cut in, “but not everything. I mean, sure, they know a lot, but I doubt Mom would keep her diary online.”

“Megan wasn’t one to spend her life in front of the screen,” Dan agreed. “You ain’t gonna find her on Facebook or Twitter neither.”

Luna shook her head. “So these diaries… they’re all we have.”

“Pretty much,” said Maxine.

“I don’t get it,” Dan spoke up. “Humans don’t live–”

“–for thousands of years,” Luna finished. “I know, that’s what Alexander told us. But time is relative. Your mother, Maxine, she could have entered Equus at a time in the distant past. And time, I’ve noticed, flowed faster on our world than it did here.”

“That still doesn’t make sense. The Empire’s been running at the same time as us,” Maxine replied. “I know it. It’s been a long time.”

“How long?” Luna asked quickly. “How long has it been?”

Maxine threw her hands up, splashing coffee. “I don’t know! No one knows! They don’t know, we don’t know, could be what, ten, twenty, thirty years?! God, this whole thing…”

Dan patted her shoulder. “Look, I’ll go make breakfast, Max, if you’d like. Scrambled egg, how’s that sound? If you don’t mind that kind of food, Princess Luna.”

“I wouldn’t eat it, but I can live with it.”

Groaning, Maxine slumped down in the chair opposite the sofa.

“Thanks, Dad,” she said honestly. She didn’t look up as Dan left her alone with the Princess of the Night.

It was all so far above her paygrade. Mom, a hero in the legends of another world. It just didn’t make sense. It shouldn’t. But after all that had happened to her, to Alex, to her family...

The disguised alicorn was still poring over the journals.

“See the wonder of the world,” Luna recited, “and open yourself to the emotions you feel from it. Don’t fall to the cynicism that leads to a hardened heart and the inability to see the emotional significance of life.”

She paused, rubbing her chin. “Words of wisdom,” Luna said evenly. “You didn’t tell me your mother was a poet.”

Maxine groaned. “She wasn’t,” she said. “Not that we ever knew. And please don’t start reading out poetry. Just cos’ it’s Sunday don’t mean you gotta recite psalms at me.”

“Come again?”

The confusion in Luna’s voice sounded genuine. Maxine looked at her. “You know,” she said. “Psalms. Church. Sunday Church. Where people go to worship God every week. Least, that’s what they do here.”

This was enough to draw Luna away from the journals.

“Alexander didn’t really talk about any gods he may believe in,” Luna commented thoughtfully. “He only said that the Empire worship my… sister, like a goddess. Humans… do humans believe in gods and goddesses?”

Her question made Maxine feel oddly uncomfortable. “Well… yeah? Though here, it’s not so much gods as a God, but still.”

“Interesting,” Luna said. “See, back where I come from, I’ve seen people who pay tribute to all kinds of… sanctified figures, you might say, an ideal to live up to. But asking protection from an unseen, capricious divinity, that’s usually done more by, well, Diamond Dogs, for instance… People living precarious, uncertain lives.”

“And you think we’re not, these days?” Maxine deadpanned.

“Of course,” Luna said rapidly. “Please do not misunderstand. But I thought, with all of your technology and industry, in normal times, you would be far more in control of your world, almost like Equestrians’ link to the Land.”

“If only,” Maxine said. “Plenty of people who think they are, sure, or used to. But not really.”

Luna lapsed into contemplative silence.

“A church… I do not know when Cadance will be arriving. Yet we should still have time. I would love to visit this place of worship. If allowed.”

Maxine heard her Dad calling from the kitchen, cutting off her reply before she could give it.

“Sounds like a darn fine idea to me, Max!” Dan’s voice echoed. “It’s just past eight, you can still make it after breakfast. Now don’t you go telling me, I know you ain’t been in a long time. But while you’re showing the Princess around, you oughta show her the sights. All the sights.”

However, it was only the memory of her mother, and of Agnes, which got Maxine to say yes.

~ Bedford, Massachusetts, USA ~

Two days ago, Princess Cadance had not imagined she’d be here.

Standing upon a wintry alien world, watching as bipeds in armour milled around a truck, carefully unwrapping the tarpaulin that covered a good-sized, sedated young dragon. The green vest her mirror-image had lent her offered some protection from the cold wind, which blew along the open tarmac. But with the rush of battle dimmed, Cadance felt the cold, and this vest was more to protect her identity than for comfort.

Strange to think she’d met a mare who looked just like her, yet stranger still was the thought that Lady Cadenza was only a few steps away – co-ordinating, with Major Bauer, the efforts of his Teutonic Knights to ease Spike across two forklifts.

Cadance wondered what the usual occupants of ‘Hanscom Air Force Base’ would have thought, had they been there to witness the sight. Apparently, though, once the UN Security Council had finally agreed she could have Spike, they possessed enough pull with this country’s government to arrange the impromptu clearing-out of a military base, if only for a few hours this morning. It had been temporarily taken over by UNAC, and the Teutonic Knights were their representatives.

This was how it stood, she thought, observing her counterpart. Now they were out of the Boston Area, only people who’d operated within that area should be allowed to see them together. Such was the Security Council’s decree, and the PHL vest helped conceal her fully-fledged wings.

Cadenza noticed her watching, and gave her a wry smile, but no more.

A small thing, yet Cadance had to wonder what that smile meant. Did it bespeak ruefulness of how they were the same person, except not? A secret shared, in the manner of an absurd joke, borne from knowing their divergent histories may have changed entire worlds? Or maybe it was meant to be a mystery, opaque as that of Prismia.

A night spent dwelling, together with the other Cadance, had brought no answers. For in so many respects, Lady Cadenza’s life resembled her own.

An orphan, raised by earthponies in the Oleandrite village of Florentina. Her parents unknown, until Princess Celestia found the heir of her long-lost sister, descended from the Amore bloodline. And Celestia had still found Cadenza, albeit not on the same day. Everything from thereon continued to flow the same. Becoming a guardian to children, until she eventually met Twilight, and through that child, the love of her life.

Flow the same, until it did not. Until the flow was broken by the incomplete Cadance’s powerlessness when Queen Chrysalis raided her wedding. Her defeat by the Dark King. Lyra’s personal losses and the new, grand cause she devoted herself to. A network of equine alliances which led down the path of Empire. Even her marriage to Shining had been pushed back as they recovered from tragedy.

… Could all this really stem from whether she’d encountered that sorceress? But, even if it did, one question remained. How did any of this connect to the humans?

Then she recalled what Luna had told her, of Alexander Reiner and his family’s history. And now her aunt was gone to seek her own answers. Cadance could only hope that after such efforts, these scattered pieces would form a complete picture.

For it was in the interests of finding another piece she’d be taking a detour to Minnesota.

“I suppose this is where we split up?” spoke a mild-mannered voice by her shoulder. “A shame we didn’t get more time to talk, Your Highness.”

She remembered Moondancer as one of Twilight’s old friends in Canterlot, and one of many children she’d minded before. It didn’t disappoint her that, in the APC on the way here, Moondancer had immediately asked all about her Equestria.

‘Ever the learner…’

Another familiar face against the Empire, this bespectacled and erudite countenance, was a welcome sight.

“Seems like it is,” Cadance told Moondancer, who stood watching as both forklifts, bearing Spike, gingerly moved in synchronicity up the tarmac. “But it won’t be for very long. Besides, Spike will be in good care.”

“I trust he will,” Moondancer said. “After all, he’ll be with you.”

Cadance laughed softly, observing as Lady Cadenza had Spike safely brought up the ramp of a huge cargo aircraft. It took about fifteen minutes of manoeuvering for Major Bauer and his Knights to conduct this delicate operation, during which she and Moondancer stayed silent.

The cigar-shaped aircraft was smaller than the Great Equestrian, its a hull a dull grey metal. Its features were dominated by two gigantic wings, both strapped with four massive engines. A smaller pair of wings rose from the back end of its fuselage, held by a fin-like structure. Finally, the craft’s front end terminated in a rounded nose, crowned by two tiny windows. Cadance had understood this was where the vehicle’s pilots resided.

As per her agreement with Amethyst Star, they would take Spike to the PHL’s only other portal-station in the United States, at the other end of the country. A quick stop was planned to pick up Princess Luna halfway. In total, the trip would take ten hours, including the pause to get Luna. But in that time, Amethyst estimated, Cadance had a window in which to take the long way round.

“I’ve talked it over with Lady Cadance,” Amethyst had explained the night before. “Officially, you’ll be going to Minnesota as her. If you keep the vest on, that should work out. She’s agreed to lend her private jet. The pilot’s one of ours. A thestral, I mean, specially trained to also fly by machine. And you’ll be arriving at Telford– it’s a civilian airport, but we can arrange for them to grant you landing. We’ll have a car waiting. After that, it’ll be a short drive to Appleton, and Prairie Containment Facility.”

Originally known as Prairie Correctional Facility, this was a formerly-vacant private prison, which had been bought shortly after the war by Triple Canopy, one of America’s corporate associates.

Cadance wasn’t too sure how comfortable she felt with merchant backing, or private prisons. Erebus’ penal status for magic-based crimes drew some criticism back home, yet it was undeniably state-run. And most of its critics had personal interests.

However, she didn’t dwell on it, as more words from Amethyst crossed her mind.

“That’s where they keep the original advocate of Conversion. She’s not what she once was. But Caitlyn North’s not the only one up there, though she’s just another freak now. No, if you want the guy who loved running his little Newfoal freakshow...”

Neither Lady Cadenza, nor Amethyst Star, had seemed too familiar with the uncanny mare by Shining’s side aboard the The Great Equestrian. The one he called Ardor, and who called herself his wife, and whose very presence had filled Cadance with deep spiritual unease.

But after her conversation with Verity Carter about the Newfoals, the idea had germinated that perhaps this, too, was connected. That this unsettling being, Ardor, might belong in the same range as those Slow Newfoals who’d resisted changing longer than most.

Albeit on a completely opposite end of the spectrum.

“Alright, looks as though they might be done…”

Cadance followed Moondancer’s gaze. The ramp was slowly closing on the cargo aircraft, and Lady Cadenza and Major Bauer were walking up the tarmac.

“How’s he faring, Lady Cadance?” Moondancer asked as they drew in.

Cadenza thought a moment. “He’ll pull through,” she said quietly. Her gaze went to Cadance. “Poor boy… We can only keep him doped about another day, frankly. After that, we might start harming his brain something worse. I hope you’ve got someplace that’ll hold a dragon without hemming them in, Princess Cadance. Spike must fly again, soon.”

Guiltily, a recalled image flashed before Cadance, of the red drake Chrysalis kept in a cage.

“On principle, the Hall of Unity has room for anything short of the Dragon Lord,” she said quickly. “And we can set up facilities for Spike to be well-treated.”

Cadenza nodded. She appeared to be considering something.

“Gems…” Cadenza finally said. “Spike’s favourite food. Gems and crystals… I’m afraid they’re far too valuable to spare. Otherwise, I’d have given him some for the trip. I’m sorry, I really am. But… this is our reality. I hope… you can do better.”

Major Bauer was somewhat less kindly-disposed.

“I feel you’re forgetting,” the Knight said somberly. “Whoever he was, this… dragon, he ain’t the little kid you knew. And I mean both of you. If you’ll pardon me, Your Highnesses. Just because he didn’t kill anyone you know, doesn’t mean people didn’t die during his rampage. Even if you… cure him, this’ll be something he’s got to live with forever.”

Moondancer sighed in melancholy.

“That is true, Major,” she said sadly. “But isn’t that also the truth of every soldier?”

Bauer’s gaze softened at that. “You might say so,” he whispered. “You might say so.” As if unwilling to linger on this for too long, he turned to Cadance. “Princess. It’s been confirmed, with Miss Star’s support, the Security Council have given me permission to leave my post, if only for the time it’ll take to escort you to High Castle.”

High Castle, Cadance had learned, was the codename given to the PHL’s portal-station on the West Coast, in a city known as San Francisco.

She smiled at Bauer. “Thank you, Major,” said Cadance. “Though you know I’ll be going North before I do that. Still, if you truly are a knight, I’m glad to have you escorting me as a princess to her castle.”

He didn’t smile back, but she felt a benign amusement in his bearing.

Moondancer consulted her wrist-watch. “Then let us soon go,” she said politely. “I must admit, I’m curious to see what’s inside that castle.”

“You go on ahead, Dancer,” Lady Cadenza told the Head of Cultural Preservation. “And Major Bauer, if you’ll be so kind to make sure my jet’s flight-worthy for Princess Cadance. I have a few more words I wish to share with her.”

Both the human and the Equestrian acquiesced.

“At your orders, ma’am,” said Bauer. “We shall rendez-vous with you and Her Ladyship down in San Antonio.”

Cadance had to silently tease herself for momentarily confusing San Antonio and San Francisco. Apparently, humans loved to name places after saints.

As Bauer and Moondancer returned to their respective planes, Cadenza sidled over to Cadance. She didn’t immediately meet gazes, instead letting her eyes trail contemplatively over the airbase and its tarmac under the weak morning Sun, the Knights returning the loading equipment, the two planes – one big and bulky, one slight and sleek – waiting to take off.

Then she looked to the departing Moondancer. Only then did she speak.

“A good one, she is,” Cadenza said quietly. “You recognise her, don’t you? The only one of Lyra’s friends in the PHL still alive… Unless you count Bonnie…”

Cadance might have preferred not to. Wherever Amethyst had eventually led back Bonbon, following the encounter that previous night, it couldn’t be somewhere she’d find peace.

“Yes,” Cadance replied. “She’s made it pretty far up, hasn’t she? Then again, I… don’t really know what she’s up to nowadays… I mean, in my world.”

“From what I recall, she and Twilight had a falling-out,” Cadenza stated. “But they made it up to each other after the Crystal War… A shame it can’t have lasted.”

Briefly, Cadance thought of the furious Archmage she’d confronted aboard the airship, and the feelings she’d sensed flowing from Aunt Luna in connection to this Twilight.

“I could have been it,” Cadenza said suddenly.

“Sorry?”

Cadenza cleared her throat.

“The next leader of the PHL. After Lyra died, two years ago. Nearly three. I could have been it. I was already the Head of Psychological and Spiritual Well-Being at the time. There were many who spoke up for me, calling for my election. Given my closeness to Lyra, it would’ve been a done deal.”

“And then…” Cadance said, eyeing her. “How come you weren’t?”

“I refused that honour,” Cadenza shook her head. “It didn’t feel right... I wasn’t truly a Princess, if I’d ever been one, anymore. I didn’t want to take on a new title… So, I endorsed Cheerilee. She was the Head of Cultural Preservation, back then. Moondancer had only recently come to us, but she’d risen quickly. Soon she became Cheerilee’s deputy. And when Cheerilee got elected, that’s how Moondancer took her old place in High Command.”

It wasn’t a decision taken lightly, Cadance knew. Yet, things seemed to have fallen into place. A teacher to guide them, a learner to preserve mankind’s memories…

Amidst the falling snow, she met her other-self eye to eye, smiling.

“Well, if I know me as well as I do,” she said. “I think you didn’t want to turn away from helping the best way either of us can. Right?”

The smile Lady Cadenza gave her, this time, hid nothing.

~ Jarden, USA ~
— One hour later

In her aura, Princess Luna held a list of names and numbers that meant nothing to her.

Daniel 12:1-3 / Psalms 16:5.8-11 / Hebrews 10:11-14.18 / Mark 13:24-32.

Those were not the only markings on the cheat-sheet she’d been handed upon entry, but the rest made sense. Date and schedule, the name of the building, nothing she couldn’t decipher. Yet these here were most opaque.

Maxine helpfully gestured to the book she carried. A ‘Holy Bible’, a collection of scripture, as she had passingly explained on the walk to the church. Whatever the list had to do with said Bible, Luna hoped she’d catch on fast.

Perhaps it was these exhausting days, perhaps her dreamless slumber, but there was a serenity to this building, even sitting next to the restless Maxine, among the furthest of the back rows. Tall windows let sunlight in on either side, and in the middle, an aisle led to a podium, separating the pews. At the front were several human youths dressed in white, humming a gentle chorus.

The Princess of the Night sat in silence, and watched as a man appeared. The nameplate on the podium read ‘Reverend Jamison’. He was a middle-aged man, with a greyish, receding hairline and stickout ears, but kind eyes that brought her warmth as he looked her way.

She stood out, of course, as one of the very few ponies to attend the service. At the moment, at least none of the churchgoers had spared her more than a cautious glance. These were people from all walks of life. People in neatly-tailored suits. People, like her, who’d worn only a casual ensemble. People who walked in shoes, sandals, or none at all. Yet here, from the toddler carried by its mother, her head drooped in prayer, to a solemn-looking young man seated all the way out front, they were all as equals.

And the Reverend addressed them as such, calling them his flock.

“This is…” Luna whispered to Maxine. “Different.”

“I’d have thought you, of all people, would know what it feels like, ‘Claire’.”

Luna digested Maxine’s sarcastic words.

As Starswirl had taught her and Mistmane showed her, Equestria was a society that cultivated, protected, and guided nature. For the weather, the earth beneath their hooves, and the magic that permeated all Equus were there for ponykind to wield. Now she better understood humanity’s stance, in this world where Sun and Moon followed no rider’s will, and people lived under the care yet also the wrath of nature.

In this turbulent world, they’d sought a protector, a guiding figure. They’d found it in the form of their supreme creator, who ruled a kingdom beyond the stars. But he stayed hidden, save for tales passed on to his followers. So they banded together under his mysterious guidance, setting forth to tame the world. They’d spread his word, and continued to express their gratitude for the tales guiding them from Heaven above.

At the very least, that was how she understood it. Their creator worked ‘in mysterious ways’, Maxine had stated, sounding rather sceptical. He wasn’t as warm as Sint, nor present like Celestia, both of whom’d she never thought beyond comprehension. They were her family.

“When you’ve lived your life amongst the ‘gods’,” Luna said solemnly. “You see only people. And this concept of religion, though I’ve learned of it from the Minotaurs or hearsay from the furthest reaches of Equus, is foreign to our people.”

“Huh,” Maxine said. She shrugged. “You know, maybe that’s why all the Newfoals call the Tyrant their goddess. Part of them remembers…”

Luna could only nod as the choir faded. She didn’t want to think much about the Newfoals, yet they continued to intrude upon her mind.

The Reverend began to speak.

“Sanctification,” he stated, “the beginning of holiness, begins at the new birth. Not the falsehood peddled by Tyranny, this lure for the desperate– who’d be deceived into believing our sins are washed away by a sip, akin to a drunkard washing down his shame with the bottle. In our Church it is said, ‘for as often as you drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death till He comes’. But those who drink in an unworthy manner will be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord…”

Luna fixed her gaze upon the symbol hanging on the wall, above the Reverend’s head. A cross, positioned such that from the front row’s view, it placed the Reverend beneath the gaze of the man nailed to it.

The symbol was one she found quite nauseating. Attached to the cross lay a half-dead man, unclothed save for a loincloth covering his waist, with a nail hammered through his hands and feet. Painted blood flowed out the wounds. Completing this grotesque imagery was a crown of thorns upon his head. Although his eyes were closed, his hanging head conveyed a profound sorrow.

This was the only cross to bear this pitiful figure, but there were plenty more, including smaller crosses, carried by the faithful. Luna remembered the church’d doorway had been adorned by a cross and a flame.

Biting her lip, she glanced around, seeing children in prayer. The Archmage’s words on humans’ response to suffering resonated in her mind. Even so young, were they become so desensitised to this war, that they’d ignore this image before them?

“Miss Radwick? If I may ask,” Luna began, leaning to Radwick. “Why… why’s there a man nailed to a cross– as a matter of fact, why do I see so many of these crosses? There are children here and… It’s such a nightmarish image.”

From the way Maxine winced, this was something she ought to have known, evidently.

“Shh! Didn’t Dad tell you?” Maxine lowered her voice to a whisper. “That’s Jesus Christ.”

Luna nodded in recognition now. The Son of God, she called, put on trial by those who did not believe his claim that he was God manifest. And even in his dying breath, he’d still forgiven those who wronged him, to cleanse the sins of mankind.

“Ah, I understand. But why such a symbol? Is it because of the war?”

“What?” Maxine asked, bewildered. “No– it’s always been like that. It’s, well, a reminder of what he went through, I think. So we all remember his sacrifice.”

“Oh.”

Luna sighed. She certainly hadn’t expected a moment of death so boldly on display.

She looked around the church. Though their fellow churchgoers remained mostly quiet, low murmurs, mostly from children, could still be heard. Her eyes settled on the two people seated behind them. A young child, with big blue eyes and messy brown hair, matching his mother's.

From the look on both their faces, it seemed they had heard her questions.

“S-sorry,” said Luna, smiling. “I’m new here.”

The child averted his gaze, preferring to look down at his cheat-sheet, while his mother glared. Unwittingly, Luna’s smile turned upside-down under the icy blue stare, something that didn’t escape Maxine’s notice when Luna turned back to stare ahead.

“Something up?” asked Maxine.

“No,” Luna lied. “Nothing is up.”

Maxine glanced behind her.

“Don’t feel bad,” she whispered, sounding apologetic, for the first time since Luna met her. “Folks judge strangers all the time. Asking questions is nothing to be ashamed of.”

It was silly, of course. It was too petty to think about. But Luna felt a familiar feeling build up within her. And she didn’t like the feeling at all. She never wanted to be shunned ever again.

“I see,” Luna said, quietly.

She heard the Reverend finishing his opening.

“... Refuse them if they offer a poisoned chalice, but do not reject them in your hearts. Remember how many are poor souls led astray, and remember those, of whom there are many, who laboured from the start to repay Tyranny’s sins. For if they come to you in friendship, share bread and drink, so you may be guests at each other’s tables.”

He stopped, then, waiting for his words to settle upon the crowd.

Yet while he kept looking at his papers, shuffling them around to prepare his next piece, Luna wondered if he hadn’t glanced at her for the smallest of glimpses.

“Now, if you’ll please turn to Daniel 12.”

Almost as if they hadn’t need to be told, every human carrying a book opened it as one.

Uncertain, Luna glanced at what Maxine was doing. The woman next to her was the only other person not to have opened her Bible. She seemed at conflict with herself. Then, sighing, Maxine thumbed the book open, not bothering to see what Luna did.

It struck her then. Mankind might not live for thousands of years, but their stories did. Her own words to Captain Reiner echoed in her mind, how stories were best told by those who bore witness to them.

With those witnesses long since passed, only the memories remained. Intrigued, Luna picked one of the spare Bibles left by her on an empty spot, and turned to the relevant page, matching what the Reverend was saying.

“At that time,” the man recited, “Michael, the great prince who protects your people, will arise. There will be a time of distress, as has not happened from the beginning of nations until then. But at that time, your people, everyone whose name is written in the Book, will be delivered. Multitudes who sleep in the Dust of the Earth will awake… Some, to everlasting life…”

A short, yet heavy pause followed, during which the Reverend looked up.

“Others, to shame and everlasting contempt. But those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the Heavens, and those who lead the many to righteousness, like the stars for ever and ever.”

Luna sat a little straighter.

Words written long ago, passed down and translated in many languages. Yet words that rung true even now, in a war none had foreseen. For a people without tangible magic or ability to wield it, the words seemed prophetic. Part of her wondered if these stories had prepared them for the war waged upon their very existence.

She liked stories. Especially stories that guided those who listened to them through the years. From Sint and Firefly's bedtime stories of a forgotten past, to Starswirl's tales of the great heroes of Equestria, the Pillars of Equestria themselves come to life, to Darkhoof’s own myths…

The years passed her by, yet it was these stories that kept her on the ground, and allowed her to remember.

She glanced at the cloth-bag she’d been given by Dan, her null-space being full with her armour. Megan Williams’ journals weren’t too heavy, yet Luna wondered the true weight of the stories they carried. Stories, she hoped that Twilight Sparkle might be able to uncover, and retell.

Shaking her head, she returned her gaze to the Reverend. Just in time, too, to notice Maxine was standing up, and so were the people of the rows in front.

Princely decorum took over. Luna quickly stood up as well, recognising what this was. Like the humans around her, she turned her eyes to her cheat-sheet. And though she chose not to sing when they did, she drank in the hymns that arose from the congregation.

Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup,
You make my lot secure.

I keep my eyes always on the Lord
With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.
Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices
My body also will rest secure.

Because you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead
Nor will you let your faithful one see decay.

You make known to me the path of life
You will fill me with joy in your presence
With eternal pleasures at your right hand.

What had become of Megan Williams, Luna wondered. The little girl called upon by Firefly, who vanquished a great tyrant. A pivotal moment in Equestria's history, yet hardly remembered in her own times. A great untold story on Earth, remembered by none.

‘Why? Why didn’t you tell them, Megan?’

But, now tucked away in a cloth-bag, the journals remained silent.

Something else crossed her mind. Reiner had spoken of Lyra as someone revered and, in certain circles, sanctified. Someone who’d stood up to her people when they travelled down an unholy path. Someone who’d sacrificed herself for mankind.

She looked up above the Reverend. The cross, and the man nailed to it, remained in her mind. A sacrifice to carry the sins of many who’d come before him – and after.

“Day after day,” spoke the clergyman, “every priest stands and performs his religious duties. Again and again, he offers the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins…”

~ Canterlot, Equestrian Solar Empire ~ Fourteenth Day of the Month of Ocyrhoe, Year 19 of the Era Imperator ~

Although this wasn’t her first time in Canterlot Palace, there remained an imposing presence to it Scootaloo found intimidating. Its grandeur and history made her feel small, and she wasn’t certain she liked it. Even the Queen’s efforts to ensure it was a welcoming sanctuary, for all faithful equines alike, never quite shrugged off the memories from when she first stepped inside. She stood alone in the reception, having excused herself from the debriefing in the Archmage Wing of the castle – where, she remembered, the Royal Wedding had been prepared many, many years ago.

She sighed, slumping down onto one of the guest benches. She looked around.

In the years after the Wedding Invasion and the Crystal War, Canterlot Palace had received much-needed restructuring. Where once it had been of purely pony-based design, now the castle incorporated many other patterns into its walls. Hippogriff-crafted statues, carved from the finest stone of Mount Aris, welcomed visitors and lined the halls. Maretonian tapestry hung from the walls, and they complemented the Crystal Realm’s painted mirrors. Scented Oleandrite candles shone brightly within the Saddle Mareabian lanterns that illuminated the castle, completing the proud image of the seat of an Empire and its Co-Harmony Sphere.

She’d spent time in these halls. Wonderbolt tours were always a plus, and there never was a boring tour when Rainbow Dash was around.

The double doors leading to the Archmage’s offices swung open. Instinctively, Scootaloo leapt to attention. To her disappointment, Dash wasn’t with those who emerged. She was still thankful to see Breeze, Whistle, Sprout and Captain Timber – tired yet triumphant. But she wished the captain were there. They needed to talk about so much, a whole day and night after Boston.

She waved to Whistle, who responded in kind, but was taken up as Sprout engaged her in conversation. Perhaps Scootaloo’s mood showed, since Breeze walked over to her side.

“Cadet Starstruck,” he said, tipping his shako, part of the formal dress for the Guard during ceremonial duties. The hippogriffs’ dress uniform was a warm blue vest, the colour of tropical waters around their capital of Mount Aris. It went flush with Breeze’s own blue-shaded feathers-and-fur.

“Sergeant Breeze,” replied Scootaloo, saluting.

“At ease,” Breeze said gruffly. “I see you’ve got a seat ready.”

“Hah, yeah…”

They sat next to one another on the bench. Breeze looked ahead, towards where Captain Timber, Sprout, and Whistle were animatedly discussing something by a hippogriff statue.

“How’d the meeting go?” said Scootaloo.

“It went well,” Breeze said simply. “The Lady Archmage made sure to commend everyone who participated. They’re busy now, so, that’s all I know for certain.”

Breeze shot her a weary glance from his golden eyes. While he looked younger than he should, his gaze told a different tale.

He patted Scootaloo’s pack. “They’ll give the Wing Commander an honourary promotion. Sorry for your loss, kid, you and Whistle both.”

Scootaloo shook her head. Though she mourned Fleetfoot's untimely death, now was the time to show strength. She sat a little straighter.

“It’s alright, Breeze,” she said. “We knew the risks, and so did she. I’m sorry about Plow, too. Sprout… I don’t think Sprout knows.”

“He does,” said Breeze. “And he will accept it... It’s a work hazard. But you’ve got optimism, kid. I admire that,” he said approvingly. He pointed towards her crystal-wing harness. “Musta taken a heck-awhile, getting used to those.”

Scootaloo smiled, and opened them a little.

“One of the first, y’know. Rainbow Dash, she pushed for me to use it,” she said. “Got it fitted in a couple years after the Crystal War, been upgraded every year since. Sunburst said it’ll get better with time.”

“Did it?”

“Sure did,” Scootaloo said proudly. “Took me all the way to the Wonderbolts.” She paused, to hold her wings close to her barrel. “‘Course, had to fight for my case… Higher-ups weren’t sure if it… gave me any advantages. But, hey, things worked out fine.”

Breeze nodded. “Good to know,” he said, looking at the harness admiringly. “That kid you got under your wing, she thinks the world of you, you know. Wouldn’t stay quiet about you aboard the sky-boat. Now I know why.”

“Hah, that’s Whistle for ya,” Scootaloo replied fondly. “Part egghead, part fan, all Whistle.”

That gave Breeze pause.

“What’s she to you?” Breeze said softly, his glance turning towards Whistle and the others. “Haven’t seen anyone so… attached.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, that was… blunt.”

Scootaloo sighed. “No, no, you’re good,” she reassured him. “Guess I just… saw myself in her. She was just like me, and I’ve looked up to Captain Dash for much longer.”

She hesitated. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to say. But she saw how in Boston, they’d stuck together for the mission’s end. And Whistle had also latched on to Breeze…

“Kid’s had a tough life,” she whispered. She leaned closer to Breeze. “One day she and her parents went to Fillydelphia, visiting family…”

She scrounged for her memories. Archmage Twilight had told her about this, how Fillydelphia’s shields were breached, the Lunar Wards broken somehow… by Luna, perhaps, an early betrayal? No, that didn’t sound right.

She pushed the thought away. “Same week, Sombra broke through the shields around the city. It wasn’t pretty…”

She shared a telling look with Breeze, whose eyes darkened.

“Oh,” he said somberly. “I’m… sorry to hear that. She never said anything about it.”

“Yeah, she was seven at the time. That’s Whistle. She perseveres. But she’s always carried a part of it since, everywhere she goes, like you and me. Guess she could’ve done with a sister back then and… yeah. I’d been held back in the Academy when we ended up in the same class. Taught her a few tricks, helped her and she helped me and… here we are.”

“I… suppose that explains things.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

Breeze sighed, placing a talon against his chin.

“We hippogriffs,” he said, “we lived in fear of the Storm King, until your Sun Princess came… I thought that… I thought that one day, I'd have to tell my kids their father wouldn’t come home from our incursions into his territory. Then Equestria reached out. I’ve never had to worry about them again. Though I still do, to tell you the truth. But there’s a difference knowing how Canterlot shelters ya…”

Scootaloo hummed in agreement.

“May we never live in fear again,” Breeze said gruffly.

“May we never live in fear again,” she echoed. “Good to know you guys are doing alright now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Breeze, leaning back against his bench. “One of these days… a visit to Harmonising Heights wouldn’t be too bad…”

Scootaloo had heard from – she winced – Sweetie Belle, about how Harmonising Heights had been where elderly hippogriffs went, when they felt their time had come. Those Heights, the crown of Mount Aris, were a sanctuary where the sounds of nature blissfully guided those who treaded its paths, and young and old alike treasured their visits. For the young, it was a song to welcome their future. And for the old, the sick and the dying, tradition dictated that after their final pilgrimage, peace would reign over them. Only then would they pass on, surrounded by all those who they held dear.

“That soon for you, huh?” Scootaloo asked gently, nudging Breeze with a crystal wing. “Easy there, looks like you still got some time left in ya.”

“Don’t flatter me,” snarked Breeze. “You got anyone waiting back home, Starstruck?”

“Just my aunts, Mom and Dad, no biggie. Why?”

“You know what I mean. No-one to settle down with?”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Nah,” she said. “I’m… you know, I see where the skies take me. Where Whistle goes, I go too.”

But something in her shook when she saw Breeze’s stern glare.

“I’m not asking about Whistle,” He tapped her chest. “I am asking about you. All this talk ‘bout the war, and you’re telling me you got nothing planned ahead?”

“Listen, listen,” replied Scootaloo, raising both forehooves. “I’m not really looking for anyone. Equestria’s been good enough to me, see?” She spread her wings, and flapped them lightly. “I can’t just drop it. I owe them…”

“Kid,” said Breeze, shaking his head. “Look, lemme just… I don’t mean you need settle down with anyone. All I’m saying, all I ask is if you’ve got something to look forward to, after… this.”

And that gave Scootaloo pause. Her parents had, she recalled, queried if she wished to join their volunteer work in the Colonies. Yet, from the moment she joined, the moment she’d turned her back on Sweetie Belle… she saw no other future.

“Okay, old-timer, I really appreciate your concern, but… I’m getting by.”

She looked Breeze in the eye firmly, her purple meeting his gold. He broke away, shaking his head again.

“Alright,” said Breeze, raising both talons in defeat. “All this talk about Harmonising Heights... I don’t really see where I’ll be going next. My kids are moving out of the nest, soon, and one of these days, I’ll get to see my wife again.”

He looked at her, eyes forlorn.

“I don’t know about you, and I ain’t counting on you telling me… But not everyone sees it through, so best we make it up to them some day.”

Scootaloo bit her lower lip, sighing.

“I lost my friends a long time ago, Breeze,” she said quietly. “I can’t turn around now.”

“Not saying you should. But you should think about what they’d have liked you to be, and what they never got to see. When this is all over, last thing I want you to do is spend the rest of your life fighting when there’s no war left.”

He clasped her shoulder with one talon, and tapped at her chest with another.

“Life’s been kind to me, kid,” said Breeze earnestly. “So don’t count yourself out so early…”

To that, Scootaloo can only nod silently as he let go of her and adjusted his uniform, huffing. There they sat in silence. She gazed at the tapestries meditatively. The Empire’s achievements, proudly displayed for the appreciation by passing eyes. From the Crystal War, then the pushback against the Storm King’s, to the first few steps taken on Earth…

And she was now a part of it. Something bigger than she’d ever be. And she’d see it through with Captain Dash, and everything would be alright.

‘Spike…’ the thought intruded, yet she shook it off. ‘It’ll… it’ll be worth it.’

To sit it out all the way was unthinkable.

‘I know you mean well, Breeze. But there’s nowhere left for me to go but up.’

Self-consciously, she flicked her tail to cover her blank flank.

She glanced around, spotting Whistle wave at her to come over, and both Timber and Sprout looking expectant, too.

“Come on, that's our cue,” said Scootaloo, hopping off her bench. “You coming?”

“Yeah, just... gimme a moment,” said Breeze, grunting as he too stepped off the bench. “This old griff ain’t getting younger.”

Almost on reflex, Scootaloo closed the distance between them, offering a wing. “Need help?”

Breeze waved her off. “I didn't say I need your help,” he said, though good-naturedly. “If you do want to help… door’s wide open in the Trailblazers for ya, Starstruck.”

Scootaloo thought about it, just a moment. The Trailblazer line of work was something different, but daring as well. Daring was something she’d always pursued. Ensuring the Empire provided for all, even the ones who left, was tempting.

Then her gaze drifted to Whistle, still waiting for her, and her mind was set.

“Sorry,” she said. “But it’s like I said. Where she goes, I go too.”

She looked at Breeze. He smiled.

“I see. You’re as stubborn as they come. Well, best of luck to you both…”

Luck was in short supply at times. Luck that she wished she had, that Sweetie Belle and Applebloom and Babs would see things her way, and the hope that one day, the Crusaders would be together once more. But after one glance at Whistle, as she and Breeze joined their comrades’ spirited discussion about the next Equestria Games, Scootaloo let her worries fade.

~ Appleton, Minnesota, USA ~

Cadance stood patiently, waiting for the door’s locking mechanism to open, which Major Bauer had previously assured was a necessary safety precaution. For the inmate or someone else, was another question altogether. But that wasn’t important. Only the identity of this cell’s inmate was important, highly classified to the public in order to prevent attempts at vigilante justice, or even to set her free.

To think, all this for one soul.

Regardless, the light flashed green and the door opened with a click. Using her magic, Cadance pulled open the door and quietly went inside. To her surprise, she was greeted by a moderately-sized, window-less cell. A clear glass wall separated her from the inmate.

Said inmate was a mare. A unicorn, her horn smaller than average, yet her frame of larger-than-average build. Her back was against the wall, her posture almost human-like, if Cadance could guess. Her long and messy auburn mane contrasted against her uneven dark red coat, but did nothing to hide her glazed eyes.

Facing the glass were a metal table and chair, the table bare except for a clipboard and pen. Cadance drew out the chair and sat, looking down to the clipboard. Atop the paper were printed the words, ‘Caitlyn North, Founder of the PHH. Status: Converted’.

Eyeing the inmate, Cadance cleared her throat.

“Hello? I… I take it you can hear me?” She thought her next words over carefully. “Excuse me, Miss. To whom am I speaking?”

The mare turned away from Cadance. Closing her eyes like one about to be struck.

“Go away,” she said quietly, “I’m not… I’m not going to let you in. I never will.”

Cadance frowned. “Let me in?” she repeated. “Forgive me, but… it seems like you’re the one who’s trapped in here.”

“It’s my mind, no-one else’s,” the mare mumbled, “my mind, not anyone else’s. Not yours, not Twilight’s, and especially not Celestia’s. I made my protection, and you aren’t getting in.”

Those words settled upon Cadance, who stared unblinking, uneased by the deranged mare.

Her domain was the heart, yet she also had knowledge of the mind. But Cadance wondered. After what Alexander Reiner had told of the Solar Tyrant’s infringements against the soul, where could this victim have summoned the will to retain a piece of herself?

She pushed forward the clipboard.

“Miss North…” Cadance said gently. “For that’s your name, isn’t it? It’s… possible we might have spoken before. I don’t rightly remember… but I think it’s true to say, you’re the first of your kind I’ve actually met… Except, maybe…” She hesitated. “I remember another mare. She stood by Shining Armor… Do you know of her?”

“Before the war, she was right next to him. She was… different,” the mare said. “She wasn’t like the others. She was close. Too close to him. She looks like–” She stopped abruptly, saying nothing else. “Why are you using my last name, now? Is calling me Caitlyn simply not working for you anymore? Or are you trying to lure me out?”

Cadance licked her lips. “I was… hoping you might have something to tell me. But maybe I’m not talking to the person I’m looking for… Where are you?”

The mare seemed responsive to that question. She turned again, looking to Cadance almost proudly and defiantly.

“My name is Caitlyn North, founder of Ponification for Humanity’s Healing, and I am innocent.” Her voice rang with assurance. “And I am never going to surrender myself to you.”

A sense of going in circles tickled at Cadance’s mind. “What are you innocent of?” she asked. “Who won’t you surrender to? Where are you?”

“I’m in a cell somewhere, but I’ll always have protection from… wait.” Caitlyn stopped, her eyes flicking over to something unseen. “No!” she suddenly shouted, “there can’t be two of you. I–”

She shuddered, as if something cold had touched her, making her clutch herself.

Unsettled, Cadance sprang from her chair. But it was Caitlyn North’s words which alarmed her nearly as much as what was happening. Unless she’d misheard, the inmate had somehow intuited there were two Cadances in this world...

“Leave me alone.” Caitlyn hissed, “j-just b-because you showed up while somep– Someone–” She grunted, head moving like something had just pressed itself into it. “I’m not gonna say it.”

Cadance would have liked to ask who the mare was talking to. But it was evident questions would not work here. Yet her appearance seemed to have had a tangible effect.

With caution, she approached the glass, pressing a forehoof to it. “Miss North? Can you still hear me? Please, I need you to look at me.”

Caitlyn looked to Cadance, desperation in her eyes.

“I am Cadance,” Cadance said slowly. “The Princess of Love. And what’s been done to you is claimed to be out of love, but how could it be? Once, I was told, you spoke for this. Why did you voice your support for it? What made you change your mind?” She paused. “I’m so sorry this was done to you…”

“Cadance.” Caitlyn breathed, “you… you’re here? Actually here?” Fragile hope lit up in her eyes.

“Yes, I am Cadance. You know me, Caitlyn North?”

“Of you. I know of you.” Caitlyn said guardedly. “We never met personally. Listen, I need to tell you something. Something important.”

Where had this come from? Suddenly, the mare looked quite lucid.

“Something you didn’t tell before? Why?” But Cadance quickly brushed her own question aside. “No, it doesn’t matter. This may not last. What is it you want to say?”

“I supported ponification as a means to heal the body, despite the trade-offs. I’m not–” Caitlyn physically recoiled again, “d-da... nnnnnnnn! P-please listen…” There were tears running down her face as she struggled against something. “I learned about the side-effects like everypony–” Saying this made her distress more apparent, “Everyone else did. I… I tried to produce a substitute serum, free of the non-physical effects. But then I was be… be...”

At this point, it was clear to Cadance that Caitlyn was literally struggling every step against something. What exactly was still unclear, but maybe…

Calling upon her magical skills and knowledge, Cadance willed a simple empathic spell. Little more than a prayer.

‘Please relieve this woman of her distress.’

The image of a pink heart formed atop her horn, and flew, passing effortlessly through the glass to reach Caitlyn. Who, upon receiving it, seemed to calm down a little. Her breathing slowed.

“Miss North,” Cadance began, “what are you trying to tell me?”

“I was betrayed,” Caitlyn said, almost casually. “Betrayed by greed and hate. Almost di– got myself converted… but it didn’t take, I didn’t break! So now this… this daemon, this wraith haunts my mind. It has been trying to break my will. It wants me to submit to the role–” she spat the word out like it was venom, “of humanity’s traitor, while the real masterminds still roam free. I’m no more than a patsy at this point.”

“So, this is what’s been done to you…” Cadance murmured. “Wait… a ‘substitute’ serum? I thought… I was told the serum was created by Twi– the Archmage.”

“It was, but I managed to create my own strain. I kept it at hand, all times. They didn’t know, when they… It saved my… m-my life? Don’t…”

Cadance breathed out, seeing her breath condense on the glass.

“Miss North,” she said, talking very urgently. If she learned something now, Luna and others would want to hear it. “You say you altered the serum? Does that mean there… could be a vaccine, or a cure? Please, you’ve got to tell me! If you left any notes behind, I know people who’ll need them.”

“I don’t know, but–” Caitlyn suddenly paled, her eyes turning wide. “N-No. N-not now.” She breathed as something started to trail down her forehead from the base of her horn. “C-Cadance, listen, please. T-The name. Th-The n-name is–”

Caitlyn let out an ear-bleeding scream as her horn ejected from its base, blood pouring down her forehead in a wave as her coat and mane began to fall off in clumps. In a twisted display that would haunt her, Cadance watched in horror as Caitlyn seemed to change forms – her frame crunching back on itself, shrinking into a more stocky build. A new coat and mane grew from the remains of the old, two different hues of green.

On the cell’s floor, by a severed horn whose base was still bloodied, surrounded by shed remains of red and auburn hair, now writhed an earthpony mare of stocky build.

Judging by the sounds from Caitlyn, it was unlikely Cadance would get anything more out of her.

Cadance closed her eyes, employing the breathing technique she really needed to teach Twilight someday. Twilight had told her what she’d seen in Alexander Reiner’s mind. But that Equestria could be complicit to such an act felt beyond Cadance.

Yet though the being in the cell looked Equestrian, they weren’t truly one. Caitlyn North was more victim than perpetrator.

Her duty was to dig further, to consult one who had a reputation as a fully willing accomplice.

~ Boston, USA ~

With friends in high places, Ana mused, it was that much easier to organise. Finding a place for Hanne aboard the same plane as the Crystal Princess-in-Exile, Dame Moondancer and the captive dragon, had been a trivial matter to arrange with Amethyst Star. She did wonder how much this had to do with what Hanne already knew so far – her friend wasn’t one to sit idle, and word was that right before leaving the UN, Hanne had led a group of her fellow journalists into the assembly.

There Ana sat in the Teutonic Knights’ mess tent, leaning against the long table on her seat. Earlier, Harwood had returned from the Knights’ detachment sent to retrieve the dragon from the Reavers and provide escort to Hansom. He stood next to the table, arms crossed, and Frieda was busy typing away at her laptop, while Ana listened to Hanne on her phone’s loudspeaker.

“Like, what was that all about?” Hanne groaned. “She was all ‘I have to go now. My planet needs me’, Ana! Now all we know is that she’s in Jarden.”

“Hey, hey, Hanne, just… hang in there,” Ana said quickly, unthinkingly patting the table as if that’d comfort the phone lying on it.. “You’ll also get to Jarden soon.”

“I suppose,” Hanne agreed. “That Frenchman of yours, Henri?”

“Henri, yeah,” Ana replied. “What about him?”

“Sure he heard right, about Cadance?” asked Hanne. “I’m not sure a pair of wings is supposed to make someone… considerably more powerful. Maybe. But– well, it’s a striking image, but… Not sure. Sounds, you know. Arbitrary.”

“I’m pretty sure he did, Hanne,” Ana confirmed. “I mean… an alicorn, from our understanding, they’ve got a way better connection to the Land than just another pegacorn, you know. Wish he’d stuck around but, hey, maybe you can ask him later on.”

“Ah, alright…”

“You get your interview with the alicorn-Cadance, Hanne?”

“No. Lani, sneaky devil, she’d beaten me to securing interview rights, shortly before that meeting with the Security Council. I was there, y’know, but now I’ve gotta share credit… and only photographic credit, at that…” Hanne groaned. “How much you wanna bet, it’ll be all over the blogosphere tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Ana said. “That’s too bad.”

“Yeah. But I… I did get a guarantee I’d interview this Luna instead. So that’s a plus.”

“Just need to find Luna first,” Frieda piped up, without looking away from her laptop. When she wasn’t on the field, one could easily find her behind a laptop – Ana thought she was a pretty talented analyst, much as the griffon’s speciality was spotting.

‘PHL multi-tasking… Wonder how Jan’s doing, back on the humanitarian side.’

Hanne remained one of her closest friends, second only to their university classmate, Jan Nielsen. Ana felt thankful that Hanne had bothered to fill her in on Jan’s activities with the Department of Cultural Preservation. Ironically, despite being part of the same organisation, Ana never had much in the way of contact with him anymore – courtesy of busy traffic in the communications channels, she thought.

“I didn’t ask you, Frieda,” Hanne said.

“Yeah, working on it, chill, Adler,” Frieda retorted. Her talons typed away at the reinforced keyboard – from what Ana had gathered, she was monitoring Luna’s possible whereabouts. Ana found herself glancing at the bandaged burn mark on the griffon’s hip.

“You doing good?” Ana asked.

Frieda laughed, still typing. “Worry about yourself, Ana,” she said. “Hey, Adler? Girl nearly got herself burnt, you know. But I guess I got the short end of the stick.”

Ana averted her eyes from Harwood, who’d thrown her a curious glance. It was true, she hadn’t been burnt at all, even though the dragon’s flame had missed them by inches. Perhaps she was merely lucky. Perhaps.

“I got her checked,” Harwood said, before Hanne could say anything. “Honestly, I don’t know how anyone could brush off something as close as that...”

“Aw, Har,” Ana said, laughing nervously. “I’m fine, really.” She rubbed the back of her head, which felt odd, without her ushanka. The same ushanka burnt to a crisp in lieu of her head. “Guess I did kind of survive. Somehow. I mean, wasn’t a direct hit…”

Her mind wandered back to several nights ago, by a campfire atop an abandoned high-rise, in the company of Yael Ze’ev’s eccentric penal squad and Lani Sanderson. In the process of playing the guitar to while away the night…

“Frieda, it’s not the first time we’ve had weird things happen with fire, is it?” Ana said, unsure whether she looked for confirmation. “What was that, you know, at the campfire? We saw reindeer dancing in the flames…”

Frieda spluttered and coughed. “Yeah,” she said curtly. “Maybe we were seeing things.”

“Okay, the fuck?” Hanne blurted out. “Pardon the language, but– Dieter, see. This is what I have to deal with.”

“Then you don’t believe me?” said Ana.

“Don’t believe you? On the contrary, I believe you too well,” Hanne said irritably. “I just wish you wouldn’t wait till I was on the phone, halfway across the country, is all!”

“Why, what is it?” Harwood said, stepping forward. “See something, Hanne?”

They heard a breath inspiring, at the other end of the line.

“Harwood, dear– we have unicorns prancing about,” Hanne deadpanned. “Ana doing weird shit is the least of my concerns. Looks like you got yourselves a Wizard in your party, Mister Knight.”

“Huh, Ana never told me you were into D&D.”

“Not really… Settlers of Catan was more my thing, like so many of my generation…”

While the two people closest to her in the world debated tabletop games, Ana glanced down at her hand. It had held a searing hot rifle and didn’t have so much as a red patch of skin to show for that. It remained pale as always.

Whereas a whole chunk of Frieda’s fur was burnt clean off. And this was still true when she looked from her hand to the griffon at the laptop.

‘Wonder what the deal is… You there, lady?’

She thought hard, hoping the little voice would speak. To her disappointment, the voice did not.

‘Okay. I… Amethyst will have to look into this, you know that? Can’t have me doing… magic. Yeah. Fun times we live in...’

“But that isn’t what counts, is it?” Harwood said, his voice gently interrupting her thoughts. “You’re alive, Ana. That’s what counts. And you did something big.”

On the table, the phone crackled.

“See here, Ana,” Hanne said. “You, of all people, shot the Archmage. The Archmage, Ana. Who’d have even thought anyone could get close enough to do it... God, I kept replaying that recording all the time back when, from that BBC interview, you remember that one? Ugh, what a self-righteous prick…”

Ana and Harwood looked at one another. The post-Geneva days hadn’t been great for anyone, but usually, Hanne hardly ever talked about that period.

The loss of their friends as the war went on, one by one, certainly didn’t help. As diligent and thorough Hanne or Jan were in their planning, none could predict when the next potion bombing would occur...

“Okay, I know it’s not healthy of me,” Hanne continued. “But… you, taking her down. People are gonna love this. Oh, the op-ed, the news reports… yeah. Yeah, it’ll be great. Don’t think this is the last of it. You basically, I dunno– maybe she’s more a Goebbels or, nah, that’s Rarity. Himmler– that’s it. You took out their Himmler, and… and everyone’s gonna be a little bit happier, maybe.”

“Aha-hah, yeah…” Ana shook her head. “Maybe pipe it down, a little, Hanne.”

“She gets over-excited,” Dieter added. “I should do a better job of reining her in.”

“Yeah, I get you... But really, Hanne. I don’t… I’m not really that comfortable talking about it… She was… I don’t know, it’s hard to explain, but… yeah. Please.”

“Alright, sorry, Ana,” Hanne said softly. “I won’t pressure you. But what’s next? Dieter and I, well, I know we’re gonna see how far we can trail Luna and the alicorn-Cadance.”

“Best do it fast,” cautioned Harwood. “Miss Sanderson looked like she had a trick up her sleeve, not that she’ll admit it. She’ll beat you back to New York.”

“Yeah, Hanne,” Dieter said. “Like I said, did Lani put you a wild goose chase?”

“This isn’t a competition,” Hanne said evenly. “But I wish it was.”

“That’s what you always say.”

Dieter was someone Ana didn’t know too well, but he seemed a good man. One of few people to truly crack the icy facade of Hanne Adler, besides Ana herself. And the only one to remain romantically involved. At the least, he appeared to keep Hanne’s boundless ambition in check.

Ana liked him, all in all.

“Well…” Ana said, rubbing the back of her head. “I think… maybe I’ll see with Amethyst if I can be reassigned back to R&D. I mean, helvete, she’s still here in Boston. It’s a long shot, but I just, well…” She sighed. “I just want to get back into my lab gear, yeah? A girl can dream.”

“Aye,” Harwood said. He clasped her shoulder softly. “But we’ll make it. Like you said.”

Ana touched his hand, and glanced at him, smiling thinly.

“We’ll make it, yeah, heh...” But then she let go, and sighed. “I don’t know, maybe they want me to stay as… as a sniper. Shooting the Lady Archmage– we don’t even know if it’s confirmed or not, you know how PR goes!”

“Ana–” Hanne began to say.

“You’re gonna ask Princess Luna, right? I mean I want to ask her, too, but, I know you got this. I think everyone wants to know what they want with us, but– really, good luck, Hanne. We’re all counting on you. Tell us how it went! I mean later. I mean, ah!”

“Yeah, but… we need to find her first,” said Hanne. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Uh, yeah, about that, Hanne,” Frieda suddenly said. Ana looked at her, as did Harwood. “If you’re looking for Luna, they found her. In Jarden, right where she said she’d be.”

She flipped the laptop around. Ana peered closer, reading the email address highlighted upon the inscrutable pages of modern systems analysis.

“... Claire de Lune, eh?”

~ Appleton, USA ~

“Ninety-one bottles of pop on the wall, ninety-one bottles of pop~”

“Could you please stop that?” snapped Cadance.

“Oh,” said the prisoner, from the other side of the glass. “Forgive me. It gets so dull in here.”

“And no doubt you deserve it. Did the Solar Empire put you up to this?” Cadance demanded. “Did they think it was fun, to let you gallop around mutilating humans?”

A black pompadour mane, streak with green, flicked back as its owner raised his eyes to her. He pretty much had to, confined to a wheelchair with a blanket covering his ruined hindlegs.

“Not at all, ma’am,” Shieldwall said, giving her a boyish smile. “I did it myself. They always did find me a little... ideologically compromising."

Cadance frowned. “But they still gave you a free rein.”

The stallion snorted. “No such thing as a ‘free’ rein with the Empire. I was just too good at thinking outside the box, for them to waste my skills. Not that, mind you… saying this between friends here…” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “I didn’t get started without a little boost.”

Something underlying his words made Cadance’s blood run cold.

“... What?”

Shieldwall leaned back, almost casually, as if he were sitting in a comfy chair and they were exchanging pleasantries over tea and crumpets, rather than opposites sides of prison glass, his broken body strapped to a wheelchair and feeding-tubes.

“Everyone thought the original anomalous Newfoals really were just that. Anomalies,” he explained. “What makes me special is, I was first to spot a method in the madness. Aye, I remember Ardor. The Guadalquivir Marshes… We hadn’t renamed them yet, then. But that’s where we found her. This Newfoal, wandered into the marshes at night– She started out with this light coat, but by morning it’d shed, turned darker. She’d adapted to her environment. And that was… curious. So we took her in, named her Andalusian Ardor.”

He looked thoughtful.

“Course, that isn’t a candle to my work,” Shieldwall smirked. “Ever hear of Reaper? Did me proud at the Maine Medical Center, she did. Too bad Kraber quickly took care of her.”

“You know, I’ve got the strangest sense of déja vu,” Cadance said coolly. “Only yesterday, I was learning more on anomalous Newfoals, from a person others told me was a… ‘character’.”

“No doubt, no doubt,” Shieldwall said mildly. “A ‘character’, eh? That ain’t so bad when you’ve been called worse, and it’s kinda flattering, actually… So, who might this lucky soul be, graced by your presence, Your Ladyship?”

“Oh, I’m sure you know them,” Cadance commented. “Someone behind the curtain, likes to surround herself with an aura of mystery, and a deeply personal vision about this war.”

“Ah... You mean Carter.” Shieldwall tried smirking, but Cadance noticed that it faltered. “Yes, she’s quite something, ain’t she? Dunno why, I never quite got around to making her my nemesis or anything…” He rubbed his crippled legs. “But I guess, when you’re used to dealing with Kraber’s sort…”

“Maybe.”

Now Shieldwall was frowning. “What’re you getting at?”

Looking at him, Cadance felt sad. It was as if she’d aged the years that separated her from her counterpart.

“I knew Verity reminded me, a little, of someone…” Cadance said, in words tinged with regret. “The same cocksure attitude, the same romanticism… Just like I knew that I remember you from somewhere, Mister Shieldwall.”

She sighed, closing her eyes, then reopening them.

“You were one of Prince Blueblood’s friends in Canterlot, weren’t you? I remember now, you hung around him all the time, you and that stallion with the fiery mane. Including the time he took the Starspear, on what he called a ‘Grand Tour’ around the world.”

Shieldwall crossed his forelegs, watching her darkly.

“So?” he said. “That was a long time ago, lady. If you’re hoping to coax a sentimental response outta me, harking back to some boyhood joyride, guess what? Forget it. You’re not getting me that way. Maybe we thought we were hot stuff back then, gallivanting around the world on our folks’ dime… but really, it was a small world. We didn’t how much bigger it was gonna get.”

Cadance stood up, keeping him fixed under her gaze. He was a short stallion and she’d always have towered over him, but strapped to his wheelchair, she practically dwarfed him.

“You call this… bigger?” she whispered, taking in him and his cell. “Look about you. You’re here on a whole new world, and where are you? You’re trapped between four walls. The Blueblood that I know may have– have had this, this idea the world was his to grab, but he’d never try to do what the Empire’s doing.”

She took a deep breath.

“Celestia once told me a full-fledged alicorn can touch the stars. But all I see the Solar Empure wants is to drag down the stars, stick them in a box. We’re here on this distant, messy, wonderful new planet, and what’s the best they can do? Iron it out. You’re not stepping out to meet a larger world. You’re trying to shrink it down, until it shrivels up.”

Shieldwall chuckled. “Funny you should put it that way,” he said. “The humans, they got this old myth, see. It’s about this box you’re not supposed to open, right, because once you open it, you can’t put the genie back in the bottle.”

He rubbed his chin.

“Or am I getting my wires crossed? Ah, whatever. Not like anyone’s gonna remember, once the Barrier’s done. The Barrier’s not like us… it’s unlike us. I don’t know what it wants, or if it wants, but it’ll grow until it encompasses everything. Our bodies and minds, they’ll be fragmented into their smallest parts, till not one part remains… This is not Conversion, Your Ladyship. It isn’t even a broken mirror. Do you know what it is? It’s refraction. And one day… Annihilation.”

Cadance gave him a hooded glare. “Yeah… I’d say we’re done here.”

But as she turned, he spoke once more. “You’re right, you know.”

She hesitated. “About what?”

“Blueblood, old Bluey, wouldn’t have done it,” Shieldwall said glibly. “Not if you really knew him. Guy was always trying to make people think he was something he wasn’t… Well, no joke, that ended up being the death of him. I remember, they called me the ‘crazy’ one in our group, leaving poor old Sooty– Awesome Fire, you know him? How it’d wind him up, my shields, cock-blocking his precious firepower! He’d play straight guy to us crazy kids, but if you looked in his eyes, ooh, you saw it made him so mad.”

He smiled wolfishly.

“I wonder when you’ll find out... Deep down, Sooty’s the craziest of us all.”

Shieldwall swivelled his wheelchair, his back to her.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I had a little ditty I wanted to finish, about broken bottles.”

~ Jarden, USA ~
— Five hours later

“I’m not sure what to make of this salad,” said Luna, nudging her bowl. “It looks… artificial.”

“Not one to eat your greens?” said Maxine. “Yeah, it’s fast food.”

Luna’s companion had settled for hot soup – though she’d eyed the meat-burgers hungrily. It was polite of her. Although Reiner had spoken of humanity’s disposition towards meat, he’d also mentioned plant-based dishes.

In this diner, within Reiner’s hometown no less, at least an Equestrian could still find repast that basically agreed with them. True, Maxine had made a disparaging comment about ‘horse town’ when Luna had asked where they’d eat after church,. A comment Luna still didn’t quite get, but the woman had soon relented and led her here.

This was a peculiar pattern with Maxine Radwick. Outwardly, she acted standoffish, yet whenever coaxed, it appeared she’d grudgingly put up with things until they went away. Given how long this war had lasted, Luna wondered how long she’d waited for things to go away.

Her only condition had been to take a table not facing the street.

Looking down at the bowl of salad, celery and carrots, Luna shrugged, and took a small bite. She contemplated its taste, smacking her lips.

“Mmm, not bad,” said Luna, chewing softly. “Not fancy dining, but it’ll do.”

“Join the club, Princess,” said Maxine, stirring her soup. “My old Dad, he’s lucky to still get his meals delivered. And that’s not the half of it… Even if this town’s still here next year, God knows what next Winter’ll be like. So enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Luna. She took a larger bite. “I’ve seen many a Winter… And, after everything we went through in Boston, today I’ll take anything.”

She reached for a bottle of ‘garlic sauce’, and poured it neatly on her remaining portion. She nibbled at it, savouring the salty taste.

“Mmm, that’s better…” Luna said, letting the mixed taste settle. For its simplicity, it did just fine to sate her hunger. With her portion now finished, she leaned back in her seat, sighing. “Nothing like a meal to close it all off…”

A meal in Equestria was something she already missed. She looked at Maxine, who kept stirring her soup.

“Aren’t you excited to see your brother again?” asked Luna. From what she could glean earlier, though, the answer wouldn’t be positive. “I’m sure he’d be… well, he’d want to talk to you and Dan. I’ll tell him what we’ve uncovered.”

“Thanks, but it’s complicated. You don’t just walk away after knowing all… that.”

Maxine didn’t say anything more, which was fine by Luna. She glanced at the cloth-bag under the table. She hadn’t thought of asking the Reverend if she could take a Bible home with her, which left only the two journals.

“I liked the service,” Luna commented. “I see now why your people would follow religion so… enthusiastically.” Yet she huffed. The image of the young boy and his mother lingered on, the mother’s judgemental look heavy on her mind. “Though, I don’t know about that last part, the one about the Sun and Moon.”

“Huh? What of it?”

Luna shrugged, tapping her fork as she recited. “‘But in those days, following that distress, the Sun will be darkened, and the Moon will not give its light. The stars will fall from the sky, and the heavenly bodies will be shaken.’”

She felt a shudder coming up.

“I don’t know… the words feel… prescient. One could argue that those who wrote these stories saw a future yet to come. A future I’m not comfortable with. Far too… ominous. We’ve had our fair share of prophecies, and I think I should talk to your God about it.”

That last comment, curiously, drew a blank stare from Maxine, who paused mid-stir.

“Don’t think God’s open to chat these days.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to find out for myself,” said Luna. “There’s a long way ahead, Miss Radwick. And I’ve got at least some time.”

“Time? It’s not about time– I don’t think you can meet him at all.”

“Hm, then he’s the hooves-off type of parent, I can tell,” Luna persisted. “But I wouldn’t wish to bother him too much about that, because your people have certainly proven resourceful.”

“I’m glad you think so, Princess,” Maxine said tonelessly. “To be honest, I never really wanted to meet God. Even as a kid, when Mom made us go to church every week. I used to think he sounded scary.”

Luna thought of the carving of the man nailed to a cross.

“He certainly doesn’t seem to… do things by half,” she said diplomatically. “I’m surprised, though. Just now, you deferred to his prescience.”

“What? When was that?”

“You said, ‘God knows’.”

Maxine scowled. “That’s just an expression,” she said, letting the spoon drop. “Maybe it used to mean something, but people’ve been using it for so long now, it’s just something you say.”

“Then you’ve got no idea if he knows?” Luna blinked. “Odd… But, if he’s that scary to you, why even use his name?”

“Dunno. Force of habit, I guess. They’re big on God in this country.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Maxine said slowly, tremorously picking up her spoon, “that’s what’s so scary about God. They don’t let you get away from him. Mom wasn’t so bad, but some friends she had… Well, I’m sure they didn’t really mean any harm. But it was scary, all the same.”

Frowning, Luna set aside her bowl. “I’d like to understand.”

“It’s kinda hard to explain...” Maxine forced a spoonful past her lips, before she continued. “People like the Reverend, right, they’ll tell you God loves and forgives you. But then you get those types who say, you do anything wrong, or don’t believe hard enough, you’ll end in a pit of fire. Forever.”

Luna sat back and listened silently.

“And there’s all those times he doesn’t follow his own rules… Haven’t even mentioned the Old Testament, have I? If you thought the Gospel of Mark was ominous… Plenty of jolly murder, rape and genocide to go around in there. It’s okay, though. It’s in his name.”

All this new information did not register at once with Luna.

She found it hard to reconcile the portrait Maxine drew with her experience of the church, the benign tone of the Reverend, the selflessness of the man on the cross or the comfort the ‘flock’ took in their presence. And yet the woman’s voice, though burnt-out, sounded truthful...

“I must admit,” Luna said, touching her chin, “I find it difficult to grasp how this, along with promising an eternity of torture, could be called ‘loving’.”

Maxine took another sip, and when she spoke next, it was as if it were the soup that was sour.

“Guess a superior being, a truly superior being, can do things that if a lesser being like a human were to do... then it would be evil.”

There was nothing Luna could think to say there.

Mulling over the two mutually incompatible perspectives of God she’d been given, the best conclusion Luna could reach was that this, too, was more complicated than she’d anticipated. Though she had millennia of experience, here was another puzzle where she did not hold all the pieces. She wondered if anyone did.

Her hunger had returned during the talk. Peeking, Luna found her salad bowl empty. She called for the waitress, a rather bored-looking young woman, and sweetly requested a second helping.

‘Maybe I should ask for a bottle of sauce.’ She levitated her teacup, and took a sip. ‘There ought to be enough space for–’

“May I ask you something?” Maxine said suddenly, setting her arms on the table.

Luna set down her cup. “Yes. You may.”

Maxine paused a moment, then sighed. “Was she always like this?” she asked tensely. Luna leaned forward, with a raised eyebrow. “Your sister. Did she ever have… tendencies.”

“No,” Luna’s answer came quickly. “Never. My sister would have never embarked on such a heinous endeavour…”

“How do you know that?” Maxine asked. “How’d you know she won’t turn out like this Tyrant?”

“When it comes to turning ‘evil’,” Luna said quietly. “You’re looking at the Princess who did, Maxine. I’m sure you’re familiar with the old tale.”

Maxine nodded, after some thinking. “Yeah. Nightmare Moon.”

“Indeed,” Luna said simply. She sipped from her cup, looking out the window. “It was I who imposed they should cherish and adore my night. Until the Elements brought me back from the Nightmare’s clutches… And throughout my long life, I’ve never known my sister to display tyrants’ tendencies. For a thousand years since… my banishment, Equestria did not know war. She can end disputes with a single letter and a few words of wisdom– take the pretender Grover the Tenth, whose scuffle with the Dragon Lord ended at a few of her best jokes! How she’s sent many an invader back to their own doorstep, before they could even march off to war.”

Briefly, Luna paused, as her thoughts drifted to the Blueblood family, that ancient bloodline she’d once married into many centuries ago. Astron wasn’t much like Polaris, nor her husband, to her regret.

Celestia had chosen Equestria over founding a family of her own. And though the family Luna raised in the Crystal Realm had thrived, the time eventually came for the Princess of the Night to return at her sister’s side, all too soon. Still, when her descendant Amore took the Crystal Throne, hope sprung that Equestria and the Realm would continue to prosper, always. Then the Dark King rose to power, put Amore to the sword, scattered the family, and took the Crystal Realm with him when he fell against the Sun and Moon.

One thousand years later, here in a diner across the worlds, Luna wondered if any of it had been worth the grief and envy of Nightmare Moon.

‘No,’ she thought. ‘It never was.’

Here before her sat one whose family had also been torn apart by war and the passage of time. Though she didn’t say it, she felt some pity for Maxine Radwick.

“This was a peace she maintained without the Elements of Harmony. And now, with the Elements restored, so shall the peace endure.”

Maxine scoffed at that. “Yeah,” she said sardonically, tapping the table impatiently. “Then she comes over here, three years pass, and she’s suddenly all for war?” The woman rested both palms on the table and leaned over, meeting Luna’s eyes. “I don’t get it. I don’t know what you think, but something is up. You, more than anyone, should know better.”

“Yes,” Luna said coolly. “She is family, and we only had each other for centuries. I know Celestia. And she would’ve never...” She shook her head. “This Tyrant… whatever she is, that is not the sister I grew up with. There must be an answer.”

Groaning, Maxine threw her arms in the air. “People change. It doesn’t matter, you won’t like the answer, whatever! You can’t just keep… look, whatever the reason, she still did it.”

Luna shared a grave look. “I understand,” she said, nodding in sympathy. “And whatever the answer we find, we’ll keep our promise, and help will come. The Solar Empire’s deeds are not borne of kindness or compassion. They think themselves superior, but they have no right to do anything they’ve done to you.”

For the longest moment, Maxine stared impassively. With a roll of her eyes, she leaned back.

“God, I hope this isn’t some fluke.”

Luna let out a laugh. She sipped the last of her tea, and nodded. “Personally,” she said, setting the cup aside. “I hope it isn’t. It wouldn’t be like us, Miss Radwick, if we weren’t going to try first, you know. Yet I fear we have more questions than answers…”

Outside, the Sun shone its light upon the crowded sidewalks. A Sun without someone to guide it – or rather, it was the Earth that revolved around it, and in turn, the Moon around the Earth.

She found it very confusing.

‘Perhaps… Such questions led them to discover so much of their world.’

An enigmatic, aloof God. A world which governed itself. Small wonder that humans struggled to understand this primordial world they lived on, even with their know-how and technology. Without any control but their own will, they’d fought so very hard, throughout their existence, against unforgiving nature and their own brethren.

And now a threat from across the worlds.

Something caught Luna’s eye, on the street. Something had changed in the air. The sidewalk cleared and the few motor-vehicles came to a halt. Then the sunlight streaming in through the windows was blocked out as, with a noisy, ground-shaking rumble, other carriages turned up. These were a dull, sandy colour. It struck Luna that she’d seen this model before, among the ruins of Boston.

Out of the trio of carriages poured armed soldiers, securing the perimeter and turning away curious civilians. Among them was a man in armour not unlike what she’d worn in the battle. Major Bauer. But it was the last figure to step out that made Luna smile.

Through the diner’s doors, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza came through, clad in a PHL vest that neatly covered her wings. Before everyone’s eyes, under the patrons’ and Maxine’s confused stares, Cadance marched up to Luna’s table, and yawned.

“Aunt Luna,” she said wearily, with a half-lidded gaze. “Morning.”

“Hello, Cadance,” said Luna, smiling as pleasantly as she could. “Fancy some salad?”

~ San Antonio, Texas, USA ~
— One hour later

By the time they’d arrived at the base – Lackland Air Force Base, to be precise – Luna had reverted to her original form, though tufts of her mane remained in their light blue state. Cadance had not spoken much at all, during the hour-long travel between Jarden and San Antonio. Nor did she particularly feel like it. Luna seemed cheerful in a manner Cadance just wasn’t feeling.

Now, facing an empty table in a closed-in-room, she sat next to Luna, forelegs crossed.

“Cadance,” said Luna. "Are you… displeased?"

“Mmh,” Cadance vocalised. “Mmph.”

Another pause. “Is it the sunglasses?”

Cadance let loose a long sigh. “Aunt Luna, don’t, don’t do that, please,” she said, glancing at Luna with half-lidded eyes. “I’m not angry at you. I’m just…” She yawned. “I’m just tired, you know? And then… well I just need to say this, but… you worry me.”

“Cadance–” Luna had begun to say, but Cadance raised a forehoof.

“Let me finish,” she said. “Because I really am worried. After what we went through, you come in, coughing and spitting blood, and all you told me is you’re… okay? I know we’re both immortal, but you don’t come back coughing blood and say ‘I’m okay’. Honestly…”

Her voice faded once she finally, finally let herself realise what Luna was wearing. It was a flowery button-up shirt, with drawn roses against the white fabric. They contrasted greatly with Cadance’s new vest or her usual regalia.

“Okay, and that’s not even getting into… this! Why’re you all dressed up like you’re on a vacation to Las Pegasus? You don’t even like poker.”

“No,” said Luna. “But I thought it was… fitting.” She wrapped a wing around Cadance warmly. “I must say, you would’ve enjoyed the town, Cadance. It’s a quaint little place, and I’m sure you’d have found a souvenir to your liking.”

“Perhaps,” said Cadance. She gave a weak smile. “Sorry. Long night. Long talk. Lots to think about. How was your trip then?”

“Well,” Luna said, tapping her chin. “I’ll… I suppose I’ll inform Captain Reiner of the details when we return. But overall, I like to think I’ve gained a greater understanding of him. And his family.”

Maxine Radwick had excused herself elsewhere – into the plane itself, Cadance remembered. Luna spiriting her away must have resulted in a lot of paperwork.

“I see,” she said. “I’m glad you had your… well, rest.”

“Yes, well, I did gain something from it,” said Luna. She patted her saddlebags. “I’ve acquired a few books that… well, may be of interest, of course. And…”

Her aunt’s smile faltered slightly.

“I am sorry, Cadance,” Luna said quietly. “Paperwork has… never been my strong suit, I admit. I figured that if it was you presenting to humanity’s foremost leaders, you’d present our terms better than I could have, and in turn they’d listen more carefully. But it does not excuse my carelessness and irresponsibility, and for that, I’m sorry.”

With a wing, she gave a cheeky nudge.

“Allow me to make it up to you. When this is all over, Cadance,” said Luna. “Perhaps we could… take Earth as it is. A visit for out whole family– my, it’s been millennia since we’ve had a reunion. And a trip to Earth, that could do it.”

Cadance couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“I mean we didn’t get, you know, the best first impression of Earth,” she said, deadpan. “We haven’t even seen what it’s like when…” She looked at her aunt’s shirt, and shook her head in bemusement. “Nevermind, I guess you did have your vacation.”

“And not a long enough one at that,” Luna said, blowing softly. “But I may have uncovered a few useful tidbits…”

“We’ll talk about that later, Auntie. I’m just… I’m worried about you. You told me what happened between you and Twilight and Spike, but I sensed…”

She stopped short of saying what she’d suspected upon seeing Luna’s expression, which had turned forlorn.

“I know what you wanted to ask, before I sent you off to find Major Bauer,” said Luna solemnly, her mind evidently going back to that night as Cadance’s had. “And… yes. The answer is yes.”

“Ah, right,” Cadance said simply. “I know you’ve… um, dealt with it before.”

“Indeed I have,” agreed Luna. Suddenly she seemed to find her own hooves rather interesting. “But… when this is all over, ah, Cadance?”

“Yes?”

“Would you mind… telling us how it’s all changed?” said Luna, tapping her hooves together. She looked for all the world like a bashful teenager. “I believe this is one area I daren’t ask Tia about. Please don’t tell her, she’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

All Cadance’s exhaustion and earlier frustration evaporated.

“Okay,” she said. “Once we talk this through with Aunt Celestia, we’ll talk about courtship when we get back, don’t worry. And… maybe Twilight’s got books on it?”

“Surely you jest,” Luna replied. She tilted her head. “Does she?”

“She’s got books for everything, Auntie,” Cadance said. “Maybe you could give her some, too. That’s a good start, you know.”

They got up, leaving the table.

Cadance decided not to admit to Luna she’d basically made them stopover in an interrogation room to finish recovering from the workload Luna had shoved onto her. As Luna followed her all the way outside and onto the tarmac, however, her aunt did begin to look wary.

“Cadance?” asked Luna, stopping to gaze around the expanse. “How far do we have to go? I do believe we’ve not enough mana yet to ‘port.”

Hearing this, Cadance had to giggle.

“Oh, Auntie,” she said, forehoof sweeping over the airfield. “Who said anything about ‘porting?”

She pointed across the tarmac, seeing her aunt’s gaze follow where she pointed. And then Luna tilted her head, ever so slightly.

The sight of the massive cargo aircraft must have impressed her like it had Cadance.

“They call it a– let’s see,” Cadance said, clearing her throat. “A plane. A C-5 Galaxy, I think. It’s for cargo. I’ve already spent the day on another kind of plane. A jet, for passenger flight.”

“I… believe I’ve seen smaller forms of this craft-type,” said Luna. “But none so massive.”

“I know,” Cadance replied, smiling. “Come on. It must be more comfortable than it looks.”

They walked, meeting up with the taciturn Major Bauer and two other escorts from his Knights.

It was a little awkward to climb the narrow ladder leading to the passenger compartment, as the humans hadn’t had time to replace this particular plane’s ladder with a set appropriate for Equestrians. But as they climbed past the cargo hold, Cadance noticed her aunt’s concerns remained with Spike, from the way her gaze brushed over him, slumbering and strapped into the great hold.

“Aunt Luna,” Cadance said, while they seated themselves. Luna glanced at her expectantly. “You picked this… I don’t know, mischief-thing from Aunt Celestia, didn’t you?”

“From Tia?” Luna asked. Though most of her eyes were hidden behind her sunglasses, Cadance saw a familiar twinkle in them, completed by her mysterious smile. “Nay, Cadance. Although, she does go to greater lengths than I do. Would you wish that I had?”

“Oh, no, not at all. Please don’t.”

* * * * *

Flight without her own power felt… bizarre, to Luna. While Celestia might have got accustomed to centuries on golden sky-carriages, nothing felt as constricting as being this close to freedom, yet restrained by mere metal, hundreds of miles above the ground. Despite their relative comfort, they were flying at speeds beyond that of any pegasus, except perhaps the Bearer of Loyalty.

Reacquainting herself with Lady Cadance, her niece’s oddly-diminished counterpart, had been a process Luna tried not to speed through. She’d felt somewhat at a loss regarding the PHL’s other envoy, until Cadance had introduced Moondancer, a quiet, polite mare who’d shown interest in their Equestria, ‘preserved in amber’, as she’d called it.

It had taken longer for them to meet with Hanne Adler – who now lay asleep on her seat, blissfully unaware of the two alicorns looking at her curiously.

“Ahem,” said Dieter Sommer, the man that was her partner. “Hanne, she’s here.”

Suddenly awakened, the photographer shot up straight, pausing only to give her tangled blonde mane a quick brush and adjust her beret. Her large eyes darted around the cabin until they found Luna. So large were they, Luna felt she looked perpetually surprised.

“Dieter, what– Oh. My apologies, Your Highnesses,” Adler said. Her accent was much like Major Bauer’s. “I… must’ve fallen asleep.”

“That you did,” said Sommer, amused.

“I’ll leave you both to it," said Lady Cadance, giving Cadance and Luna a nod. “Mister Sommer, if you would?”

“Right… good luck, Hanne,” said Sommer.

Without another word, they were off down the aisle as Luna and Cadance settled into seats opposite Adler, while she tidied up her hair and patted her clothes – rather laidback for an interview if Luna knew anything, with a pair of blue jeans, grey shirt, and black jacket.

“Good…” said Adler. She stifled a yawn. “Good afternoon, Your Highnesses.”

“Good afternoon,” Luna replied, gearing herself.

Adler carried herself adroitly, from the way she set her camera on her lap, and yet there was an unprofessional giddiness to her tone, betrayed by the slightest fidgets. Her hand held a pen and notepad, ready to write.

“Right…” Adler said, smiling politely, despite visible weariness. “Good afternoon, Princess Luna, Princess Cadance. My name is Hanne Adler, here with The New York Times. Would you mind answering a few questions?”

Luna exchanged a glance with Cadance.

“Oh, the interview,” Cadance said giddily. “Your friend Lani asked me a few questions too, Miss Adler. Aunt Luna? You got this– remember what I told you? About those… those reporters in the Night Court?”

The first session of the Night Court in a millenium hadn’t been a smooth ride, as a dozen reporters had tried forcing their way into the throne room, adamant to catch a glimpse of the restored Princess of the Night. It wasn’t until Nightmare Night that she’d steeled herself to formally reappear in public on her own terms, thanks to Tia’s encouragement.

Luna brushed the memory aside. Here was only Adler, and now she had Cadance.

“Breathe, calm, be yourself, Auntie,” said Cadance, beaming. “You can do it.”

Biting her lower lip, Luna looked back at Adler, scrounging her memories for what Cadance had indeed advised her to do.

“Yes, Miss Adler,” said Luna. “I’d be delighted to answer your questions.”

So she spoke. The plane trip was not at all like true flight, and in the end, the interview wasn’t the chore she’d feared it’d be, between Adler’s smooth questions, Cadance’s light encouragements and her own efforts to maintain a facade.

Adler didn’t pry too much, thankfully steering clear of questions that might paint Celestia in an unfavourable light. Luna appreciated this. Indeed, it was mainly about her that Adler asked, from her still poorly-understood role in the Equestrian government, to why she’d been chosen to lead these efforts at diplomacy.

“I am not sure myself,” Luna said. She patted Cadance’s wing. “But you can thank my niece here for salvaging what could’ve turned into a disaster.”

Yet try as she might, Luna couldn’t shake off lingering feelings from Jarden. The Radwick home, the humble church, the people going on with their daily lives, both tacitly acknowledging the war that loomed and attempting to ignore it.

At last, both parties made a breakthrough.

“Why were you in Jarden, Princess?” she asked. “If… if it’s not too much to ask.”

Thinking, Luna knew she couldn’t mention the locket yet. Confidentiality was something to keep even now.

But there was no reason not to ask Adler a question in turn.

“I wished to see what you hold dear,” said Luna. “That is what I told Miss Radwick.”

“Oh?” said Adler, scribbling away at her notepad. “That’s… that’s something, Princess.”

“Indeed it is,” Luna said. The opening was hers to take. “Miss Adler, if I may, you asked earlier why we’ve committed ourselves to help.”

“I did, yes,” Adler said. “Is something wrong?”

“No. But, throughout my sight-seeing here, I’d yet to be given the reason why we should step in, from your own people, Miss Adler. Captain Reiner told us much, that is true. But until Jarden, I hadn’t seen, with my own eyes, and without any… pardon my words, any empty platitudes, what is truly at stake. Now, you need only explain to me the why.”

“I’m… sorry?”

“My answer to your question is simple, Miss Adler. I only wished to see what is at stake. What humanity’s worth is. And herein lies my question. Why?”

“Aunt Luna–” Cadance spoke up.

“I apologise for my candour, Cadance, truly. I only wish to understand, why’d it be worth it? Our commitment has been made. Whatever you say here, it is our duty and our choice to help. But make me understand here and now, what do you have to lose.”

A pause. Cadance let out a small cough.

“She does that,” she said. “But… I think she’s made her point, Miss Adler.”

Adler, Luna noticed, had gripped her notepad tight.

“Ah… I see,” said Adler. She put her notepad aside, and clutched her camera. “I suppose this’ll be off record…” She adjusted her beret. “Where should I begin?”

“Anywhere you’d like, Miss Adler,” said Luna. “I’m aware this is a rather vast topic. But please. Take your time.”

Something changed behind those large eyes of Adler’s. An old sorrow. The woman rested her chin on her palm, and shifted in her seating. Finally, after a few more moments’ restlessness, Adler released a long, long sigh.

“In all honesty, Princess,” she said, her voice forlorn. “I don’t know if I can say it right.”

“You don’t need to. You need only to be honest.”

Adler nodded. “Alright… alright…” she said, wistfully. “I’m… well, if you ask me, it’s… its our legacy, Princess.”

“Legacy, you say?”

“Yeah,” said Adler. “Look, I’m just someone with a camera and a couple words to say. And personally… I don’t want us to be forgotten.”

She reached out to a device to the seat on her left, a black, rectangular device like the laptop Dan Radwick had shown Luna, and pressed a few buttons.

Adler turned the screen around – and there, Luna saw it. A haggard man, whose skin wrapped tightly around his bones. There were many others just like him, in the dark confines of the bunks they lay down in.

‘I’ve seen this before… The Archmage’s gallery.’

“More than seventy years ago, the world fought a terrible war,” Adler said gravely. “All started because some madman thought himself and his people superior… My people.”

She shook her head.

“He led Germany to a pointless, cruel war,” Adler continued, her voice disdainful and venomous. “Much like the one the Empire wages on us now. He herded people like cattle to their deaths, waged a war on a scale hitherto unknown, and by the time a bullet was put through his brain, seventy million people had already perished. Even today, many follow his ideas. My grandfather was one of them. I never spoke to him again.”

Adler sighed, ruffling her hair in what might have been despondence.

“At the end of it, we asked ourselves... Why? The reasons were plenty. Not all made sense. Maybe sometimes... It just is, Princess.”

She flipped her device around, her brows furrowed.

“But if evil can be just because, so can the good. Especially the good. And here…”

The picture had changed when she turned it back around. Both Luna and Cadance leaned forward to contemplate it. There were several pictures, in fact, all telling the same story. A coastline stretching far as the eye could see, strewn with mud and debris. From high above, how it had looked so pristine, so green and lively before. Then a devastated city, with waste clogging up the streets so high, they dwarfed the people that stood before it.

“... Is the good.”

Adler used her finger to swipe the device’s glass-like screen, and the pictures moved beneath her touch.

“Oh dear…” Cadance whispered, holding a hoof above her heart.

Luna saw what she had seen – humans, dressed in orange, carrying what could only be a lifeless body from the rubble. On another picture, human-shaped bags were laid, side by side, with people looking over them. Some were mourning, crying, staring off into the distance…

“Who could have done this?” Luna asked. “What good could have possibly come from this?”

Adler shook her head. “You’ll find no man-made disaster in these pictures, Princess,” she said mournfully. “There was an earthquake, and a great wave that swept Aceh– that’s in Indonesia. Sri Lanka, Thailand... Two-hundred thousand dead, because of something beyond our control.”

Strangely, her mournful look changed before Luna’s eyes, into a somber smile.

“Next month, it’ll have been twenty years since then, yet I still remember how everyone threw in their lot to help those affected, across continents and oceans.”

She continued to swipe. The images changed. People, many without shoes, lining up for small boxes being given out. People dressed in uniforms not unlike the soldiers of UNAC, like Major Bauer out of armour, kneeling down to speak with children in tents. A gigantic white ship, marked by a red cross, coming into port with people cheering its arrival.

The same tale repeated every picture, people coming together, hand-in-hand for their brethren...

“... Just because,” Luna echoed. Adler nodded earnestly.

“I know we’ve done so much evil, Princess,” said Adler. “We, well, some of us, at least, we try. Please, remember them like we could. This tells me that there is good in humanity. And the day we stop fighting for that good, the day we stop caring for someone we’ll never meet, is the day our humanity– no, our heart, might as well be gone.”

Adler put her device away, steepling her hands.

“The Tyrant doesn’t see it that way,” she said lowly. “That… damned Barrier. It comes for us all. They claim to want to save, to preserve our memory, in those… those Newfoals. But the Barrier, it does not lie.”

Next to Luna, Cadance shuddered.

“I have seen it,” Luna said. “Your photograph is found everywhere, Miss Adler.”

It was a half-truth. Though Maxine’s father had shown her the famous photograph, Luna had personally seen the Barrier, at a scale larger than anyone could have imagined, a day before. Revealed by her ethereal eye, in her search for a town that may hold clues on how to stop it.

Adler gave a terse nod. “For five years, that photo has been my greatest achievement, and our worst nightmare. Everything we’ve done… how does it even compare to this, this thing. And the Barrier does not discriminate, Princess. Humanity as the Tyrant wills it must go.”

She looked down at the camera on her lap.

“By what right does she judge us?” Adler said, voice wavering, lips quivering. “We’re not, we’re not inherently evil, Princess. We’re not inherently good, either. We’re… we’re just people. People like… like the Sentinelese, who shun contact with humanity as a whole… have the Empire got to them first? Just… what hope do they have, when the Empire judges them as… fuck, I’m sorry.”

She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket.

“At the end of it, Your Highnesses,” Adler said softly. “I’m… I just wish that at the end of the day, everything we’ve done, everything we are, will be remembered.”

And Adler, Luna saw, clutched her camera a little tighter, her breathing heavy.

“I’m... sorry, that was dark, and a lot to… take in,” she whispered. “My apologies."

“There is no need to excuse yourself, Miss Adler,” Luna said, firmly. “For I understand.”

Hanne nodded, her eyes moist. “I… I think you already have your answers, Your Highness. Somewhere in that town.”

“I have,” said Luna. “But I shall remember what you told me here, as well. The road lies ahead, for your kind and mine. I cannot say what lies at the end… But, know that Equestria welcomes your people’s memory. All of humanity’s memory, in victory or in defeat, will be kept. For the living and the dead.”

Hanne looked at her curiously.

“That’s… that’s a big promise to make.”

“A promise we’ll keep, to the best of our abilities,” Cadance replied solemnly. “We’ll find a way.”

“We’ll find a way…” Hanne whispered, smiling despite her fresh tears. “Thank you, Princess. There’s… God, there’s so much to parse with this. But thank you for your time.”

She opened her bag, gently placing the now-filled notepad within.

Cadance spoke again. “Who do you have, Miss Adler?”

“I’m sorry?” said Hanne.

“I did ask who you hold dear, Miss Adler,” said Luna. “If you don't mind. ”

Hanne paused before replying.

“Well, there’s… my parents, my siblings… Dieter… Ana, Jan…” said Hanne, holding a hand over her breast pocket. ”They’re all I have left. Hendrik, Hilde, Elrik, Lars... They’re… just– we all lost some good people during the war. We’re just, I don’t know, we’re not like Alexander Reiner, Princess. It’s… it doesn’t matter, in the bigger picture.”

“On the contrary, Miss Adler, they matter,” said Luna. “As we’ve promised, all of humanity’s legacy will be remembered. Including yours.”

“So, uh, Princess Luna? I... are you going back to Canterlot?”

“Yes, Twilight Sparkle. Here we must part. I’ve got duties, and I daresay, our citizens have gone on long enough without a properly scheduled night.”

“Oh, that's alright. Well, if you need anything, Golden Oaks would be very happy to welcome you, Princess. Ponyville misses you, you know? I know I do– I mean, it’s been so long since Nightmare Night, Pipsqueak wouldn’t stop asking if you were coming!”

“... I see... I thank you for your offer, Twilight. You… you have been a presence most welcome yourself. Worry not! I do have books you may be interested in, if you’d like.”

“Oh, that’s, that’s– thank you, Princess. I’m flattered.”

“... Do call me Luna, Twilight. We… um. We are friends, are we not?”

“Of course! Of course, P– Luna. We are.”

“Wonderful! I mean… wonderful… right, I expect that I shall return here. Will you be there?”

“You bet I will! I’ll be waiting, Luna. We have so, so much to talk about…”

~ Canterlot, Equestrian Solar Empire ~ Fourteenth Day of the Month of Ocyrhoe, Year 19 of the Era Imperator ~

“Lady Archmage?”

Twilight snapped back to the present.

“Yes?”

Speaker Raven Inkwell had been the one to address her. She coughed politely.

“They’re awaiting your statement.”

The bespectacled, whiteish mare looked concerned, but Twilight looked past her, out into the Chamber of Accord.

The Joint Council’s public officials had taken benches on their right, from Equestria and the Crystal Realm, to Hippogriffia, Oleander and Maretonia, and Saddle Mareabia and the tribes of Zebrica. And the Co-Harmony Sphere’s latest adherents, the Eastern Unicorns of Neighpon. To the left were seated the Sphere’s military officials, with the exception of her brother.

Shining had chosen to remain on Earth, to deal with whatever was left of the Boston situation from Hollow One. Clever Ace, his deputy, took his stead here.

Completing the image were the Loyalty Guards who stood vigil in their signature purple-and-yellow armour. Not least of which were her own. The pair stood behind her, just as behind her and Raven Inkwell sat the Imperial Cabinet. Including four Element Bearers, other than Dash who sat with the military officials. Her friends, all together for the first time in months.

She wished they hadn’t got here in such dire straits, mere days ago.

“Lady Archmage,” Shearwater leaned in closer, and whispered. “We ought to hold off on the meeting. You need your rest...”

Twilight brushed off her bodyguard. She winced – the painkillers had done their work, but she could still not bear to feel even a breeze where her left ear had been.

“No,” she replied quietly. She looked at Terramar on her other side, hoping a quick smile was enough to ward his worry. “They need answers. All of them.”

A chamber of benches, filled with forty souls, not counting the Guard. Merely a quarter full, compared to a full session of the Imperial Parliament. Yet they had such news waiting for them. Her diadem felt heavy, and her starry cloak offered little protection to the watchful eyes that surrounded her, but Twilight Sparkle felt her resolve strengthen.

The Speaker sat down. Twilight stood forward.

“My fellow faithful…” Murmurs floated in the air, some turned to glance at the side of her head. Who then tore their eyes away when she glared at them. “I hereby welcome you all to this Special Council.”

Behind her, Fleur de Lis was the first to give a polite clap. As the Minister of Newfoal Affairs, her presence here was a formality, but Twilight silently thanked her. From a bench to the right, Sunburst, the Crystal Mage, followed suit. He threw Twilight a look of encouragement.

Less could be said of Minister Neighsay, whose glare she felt upon her neck. A great many years had passed since she and the notoriously pro-national Minister of Education had exchanged barbs over his Equestria First leanings. Today wasn’t a day Twilight felt compelled to reignite those debates.

Again to the right, the Viceroy of Hippogriffia signaled a despire to speak. Raven nodded his way.

“Lady Archmage, if I may,” said Skybeak. “I wish to relay Queen Skystar and Princess Silverstream’s condolences. They wish you a speedy recovery.”

“Thank you, Viceroy,” said Twilight. She threw a quick look at Terramar, and smiled. “And please relay my thanks for Terramar's service. I'm sure Princess Silverstream would be delighted to know of her brother’s performance.”

Her voice died down when she saw Vicereine Amira raise her forehoof.

“Ahem, yes, Vicereine?”

“Your Ladyship,” said Amira. “Please, we wish to understand. There have been rumours from our personnel at Hollow One.” She paused, as if contemplating her words. “These… rumours. They speak of Princess Luna… and of Cadance.”

Twilight had to bite down the headache, and hope no one would notice.

“Perhaps you ought to keep them quiet, Vicereine,” sneered Minister Neighsay. He himself had kept quiet awhile, but the aging unicorn evidently saw fit to speak now. “It is hardly appropriate for your troops to gossip in troubled times.”

“If I may speak, Minister,” hissed Twilight, and Neighsay recoiled. “I understand your concerns, Vicereine. All will be explained in due time.”

Her eyes panned out over the whole chamber. She took a deep breath.

“Now… as you all have heard, a new enemy has made themselves known.”

She paused, letting her words settle in all those gathered. Almost as soon as she had finished, there were low murmurs, mostly from representatives further back. She wanted to turn around, look at her friends for encouragement. But this was her responsibility.

“Yet this enemy,” Twilight continued, “is not merely an old enemy resurgent. Not an enemy from our own world, joining forces with humanity against us, like the Betrayer did. No, they represent a whole other world. And in effect…”

She felt her wound sting, yet she pressed on.

“... They are us.”

Twilight winced as the murmurs turned louder. She saw Viceroy Gestal, that old griffon, adjust his glasses, his usually-squinty eyes wide in astonishment. Still others expressed confusion, bewilderment, the whole spectrum.

“Yes, they are us, claiming to spring forth from a parallel reality. Though we are unsure as of yet that this isn’t some… trickery perpetrated by the PHL, these wholly unprecedented circumstances warrant a measure of quarantine. The renewed UNAC offensive has regrettably begun to push our troops back from the Boston perimeter, a situation we need to remedy. Viceroy Skybeak?”

“Yes, Lady Archmage?” he said, looking shaken.

“Please, inform Queen Skystar that in light of the High Captain’s report, a stronger hippogriff presence is expected–”

“Excuse me,” called out a voice from the edge of the chamber. “If I may interject.”

The entire room turned towards the speaker, who sat at the very back row of the military officials. He was a white stallion, though not as immaculate as Shining Armor, with a slightly greyish tint to the hue of his coat. His once-fiery orange mane looked heavily greyed along with it Twilight wracked her brains as she tried to recall who was speaking. She glanced at the jacket he wore, to see pips and the insignia of the Navy’s engineering corps. Then it hit her.

“Chief Engineer,” said Twilight. “What do you wish to address?”

“Thank you, Lady Archmage.” Awesome Fire bowed his head as he spoke. “In light of the… issues in North America, I have a proposal.”

“Go on,” Twilight prompted.

She hadn’t spoken often to the Queen’s Chief Engineer, mainly because their roles rarely intersected, but also due to a feeling of distaste she felt around the stallion.

Awesome Fire was a dedicated naval officer with a good track record, but plenty of unsavoury rumours surrounded him. Prior to the war, he’d been good friends with Prince Blueblood – more than that, possibly. He was also one of the few who knew that Blueblood, Hero of the Empire, had really been a traitor who’d helped the turncoat Princesses Luna and Cadance escape.

Forcing down her déja vu, Twilight told herself Fire should well know, given he’d denounced Blueblood. An act loyal to the Queen, but even so, it made Twilight uneasy. Not only had it got Blueblood secretly petrified and shattered, this was why Luna was now a statue in the Gardens… A Luna. She remembered Fire had also been friends, in a ‘frenemy’ kind of way, with Shieldwall, that compromised individual.

With such friends, who knew what went on inside that head. Fire’s own secretive and obsessive proclivities didn’t help his case. Twilight even wondered if his coat was truly white, or if he’d dyed it, just like you’d expect of a working-class go-getter aiming to look fashionable in Canterlot. Much as Twilight usually ignored him, it seemed like he just hid away on one naval facility or another, only showing up if he had a report to give. It was so… antisocial.

“Members of the Council,” Fire began, offering respectful nods to the equines in the room. “Before the news of what happened at Boston reached me, I had been drafting a report on the Empire’s latest military initiative: Project Hearthswarming.”

The name got several reactions, many confused. Twilight knew what he was talking about, but felt astonishment more than anything.

“You mean it’s been approved?” She turned to look at Clever Ace. “I was not informed.”

The Deputy Captain, a grey-coloured pegasus, cleared his throat. “Nor was I made aware of it, Lady Archmage. The High Captain was to be informed first.”

‘Of all the times he had to stay with the rank-and-file…’ Twilight held back a frustrated sigh.

As murmurs grew, from all around the chamber, Fire continued, his tone heavily proud.

“Oh, yes. We expect to make further breakthrough in the next three months, performing the first tests under live-fire conditions.”

“Live-fire?” Vicereine Amira asked. From her blue eyes’ icy glare, Twilight thought that she didn’t look happy. “What exactly is this project?”

“‘Hearthswarming’,” explained Fire, “is a device of my own devising, with extensive and highly valuable guidance from Her Majesty, that can assist in our military’s ability to project power beyond the Barrier.”

Fire’s rictus seemed to grow, inch by inch, the longer he spoke.

“A high-yield thaumic conductor and generator, able to concentrate extremely high amounts of magical energy and then project it outwards in… I suppose, it would be appropriate to say, in the manner of a cannon.”

“Is it a cannon?” Ace asked.

“Well, personally, I’d call it much more than a mere cannon, Deputy Captain,” Fire replied haughtily. “It’s also an immense source of power that, with a little modification, could be applied in so many more ways. I’ve already been drafting new applications that may, in time, allow us to enhance our forces with this energy… or hinder our enemies. The possibilities are limitless.”

Twilight saw both Amira and Skybeak share an uneasy look.

“How did you get the power source?” Sunburst asked aloud. He held himself back, just enough, Twilight knew. “We’ve run the calculations and…”

“Ahem, that’s classified, I’m afraid. There will be a written report delivered later when Her Majesty approves of it.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes at Fire’s reply. It was too quick and a little panicked. Sunburst also looked dissatisfied, but probably hadn’t noted the same, or was just distracted trying to deduce what exactly Fire now had at his disposal.

“In the meantime,” Fire said, recovering, “I would like to propose that we deploy Project Hearthswarming, outfit it and send it to the Barrier’s current position in Maine, with the reinforcement navy detachments, and have it target one of the major PHL outposts to nullify the humans’ enhanced lines of defense.”

The murmurs grew, despite Raven’s attempts to shush and control the flow of discussion. Gestal leaned to chat with the Neighponese Viceroy, an inexperienced looking young stallion. Elsewhere, the Oleanderite Viceroy engaged in hushed chat with his Maretonian colleague. Amira seemed concerned, if her expression revealed anything. And Twilight, in spite of her headache, found herself pondering the weapon – as did, she presumed, all those present. The other Bearers seemed in spirited discussion, and much as she wished she could join her friends, she had the room to herself.

Or would, if a bout of headache hadn’t forced her to slink back to her seat, hopefully unnoticed.

“And how does this… project, pertain to our present situation, Chief Engineer?” asked Skybeak.

“Simple,” Fire said smartly. “For every action, an equal and opposite reaction. My stance is well-known that we’re overreliant on the Barrier, for our campaign on Earth. Should that rampart no longer prove adequate, with the enemy powering up new alicorns… This might level the playing field again.”

There were angry mutters at the mention of alicorns.

“Excuse me,” interrupted Gestal. “How do we know she is an alicorn? This imposter Cadance.”

“The reports do seem unverified,” added Sunburst. “But, I have to say, this weapon... Deputy, what do you think?”

Ace simply shrugged.

“Well… It sounds like something the frontlines could use, really,” he said cautiously, granting Fire an approving nod. The Chief Engineer smirked.

Behind Twilight, Rarity spoke.

“Ahem, yes,” she said. “If this device’s performance is as excellent you’ve described it, Chief Engineer, it’ll be encouraging for our people to hear. The papers will love it.”

This time, the mutters blew up into chatter, and Raven had lost control of the room. Skybeak, undeterred, was opening his mouth when Twilight stood again.

“Everyone, please remain calm!” exclaimed Twilight. “Rest assured…”

From the corner of her eye, Twilight spied red-and-gold.

Through the window, a phoenix flew into the Chamber of Accord, landing atop a perch the presided the chamber, made specially for her.

And Philomena, the Herald, would only arrive if–

“I’m terribly sorry, Lady Archmage,” Raven said, croaking. Twilight glanced at her, and saw she too saw Philomena. “But I believe we have a guest.”

All eyes turned back to the front. Twilight released her breath.

“By the powers vested in me,” Raven spoke, a practiced speech. “I humbly welcome Her Imperial Majesty, Celestia, Sol Invictus, Queen of All Equestria, Empress of Europe, Stewardess of the Sun, First Servant of the Land, and Voice of Harmony.”

Her voice faded into a dead silence.

Then, the great oaken doors of the council chambers swung open. One by one, the Loyalty Guards posted around them saluted the ethereal figure who stepped through the open door and into the chamber.

There, tall, resplendent as the rising sun, stood Queen Celestia.

“Hail to the Queen!” exclaimed Gallus. His salute was followed by his comrades.

Unhurried, Celestia’s gaze swept over all, calm, majestic and benign. She was dressed as modestly as ever, with her elegant golden peytral and crown – the Sun and Crescent Moon joined together, centered upon it.

Yet none dared to speak, until she smiled.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” she said gracefully. “Pardon for the interruption, but the Cabinet is all gathered here already, and I think my presence is long overdue.”

She raised a forehoof, beckoning her Herald. Philomena flew to rest upon it, earning the great phoenix a nuzzle.

Celestia turned her attention back to the chamber, eyes darting back and forth between each member of the Joint Council. Philomena flew off, choosing to perch on Twilight’s desk.

“Now, yes– I have heard of the events that transpired in Boston,” she continued. Skybeak stood most hurriedly, his grey feathers bristling.

“Queen Celestia, my apologies–”

The Queen raised a gold-covered forehoof, silencing Skybeak. Her gaze remained neutral. “No need, Viceroy. The loss at Boston is a mere setback. The Great Equestrian, our pride, remains. And we’ve got, as I’m sure you’ve just been briefed, a new card on the table.”

Murmurs of agreement arose around her. Twilight saw the Chief Engineer puff his chest proudly.

“Lady Archmage,” Celestia said. Twilight shot up straight, gazing at her Queen and mentor. “We must talk, regarding my dear sister.”

“I’m, I’m sorry, I failed–” Twilight stammered, but Celestia simply shook her head.

“Now, now, Twilight,” Celestia said soothingly. “The battle had gone on long enough. Our forces, valiant as they were, could only go so far... and there are twists of fate even I cannot foresee.”

She smiled serenely, turning her gaze to the assembly.

“Rest assured, I hold none of you to blame for this setback. Our brave troops have done their best on the field, and where they have fought and bled, the Barrier will cleanse nonetheless. This other Equestria, it is not beyond our capabilities, and we shall deal with them swiftly.”

She spread her wings in triumph.

“And our victory, friends, will be complete, at long last!”

That drew polite applause from every member of the Council, with hooves and claws. Twilight, though still pained, managed a few claps of her own.

“Chief Engineer,” said the Queen, as the applause faded. Awesome Fire stood at attention. “If you’d be so kind to leave your report at my front desk?”

“It would be my honour, Your Majesty,” Fire said with a deep bow.

“And…” Twilight spoke up. “What of Princess Luna?”

Celestia’s gaze turned to Rarity.

“Oh,” Rarity said primly. “Of course, you mean Nightmare Moon. The papers will know what to say, Your Majesty. Meanwhile, Cadance will be… unsubstantiated.”

“Make it so,” Celestia smiled. “Girls, you mind staying for a bit? I’ve got something to talk about with Twilight, so if you could wait outside?”

The Bearers all nodded as one. And Twilight wished they could stay. But, as it always seemed these days, duty called to her..

“And, as for the rest of you,” continued Celestia. “Take your leave, for this meeting is adjourned. We face challenging times, everyone, and best to keep us all well-rested.”

Without another word raised, in a clatter of hooves and claws and armour, the Joint Council moved out in orderly fashion, escorted by the Guard – from Neighsay and Amira to Sunburst and Skybeak, to the Bearers.

The last to leave was Terramar, who threw Twilight a reassuring glance, before Shearwater beckoned him to close the door behind them.

Now, only Queen and Archmage remained.

* * * * *

Philomena’s tears, warm and healing, blessed Twilight with each drop that brushed her wound. The great phoenix cooed, still rested on her desk, and Twilight gave her an affectionate pat.

“Does it still hurt, Twilight?”

“Not… not as much as it did, Your Majesty,” said Twilight, managing a smile. Philomena gave her a nuzzle, before flying back up to her perch. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” said Queen Celestia, returning her smile. There was regret in those rose-coloured eyes. “I’m sorry, but that’s as far as Philomena can do, Twilight. You know this only works once. Had I been there sooner–”

“N-no,” Twilight said hurriedly. “I didn’t want to trouble you, Your Majesty.”

“Still, I must apologise,” Celestia sighed. “Confronting that grey alicorn up in the North… Neutralising her was swift, yet costly, even for me.”

“I can only imagine.”

“Such modesty, Twilight. You held off my sister longer than any mortal has a right to. I told it true to the Council; there is too much here I could not have foreseen. First, this grey alicorn. Now a parallel, refracted Equestria, conjuring an alicorn-Cadance…” Celestia’s lip curled. “My suspicions are confirmed. I sense the Architect’s craft in this.”

“Her?” Twilight blinked. “But... what could she possibly want?”

“Only what she has always wanted. A chance to do right, this time, in rebuilding her Prism.” Celestia’s eyes went cold a moment, before her voice turned soothing. Worry not, though. We possess other means to retrieve that locket. And you’ve earned a second chance, more than anyone.”

* * * * *

They stood there, the five of them, contemplating the oddly-shaped, reclined statue.

Despite an ostentatious name, the Palace’s Vault was in fact tiny, and almost devoid of content. A room lined by marble, the only other object within was a lone, rune-layered lantern, now practically blocked from sight by the newly-installed statue. Twilight might have been able to explain this, yet since Twilight wasn’t here, they’d chosen to push it from their minds.

The room wasn’t well-lit, relying on marble’s brightness for visibility, dimly illuminated by a soft, cyan glow of torches that magically lighted when they’d entered.

Discord looked different from the last time they’d seen him petrified. As before, he’d tried warding off the blast. But that time, the look on his face had been fear and surprise. This time, it was striking to see how pained Discord looked, as if the Elements could truly cause him pain.

“Funny, huh?” whispered Rainbow Dash. “How terrified we were, when we first met the fella.”

No, even Dash could not pretend otherwise. They all nodded.

“Well, he don’t look so tough now,” Applejack said, kicking the statue’s overturned base. “See what ya get, when ya give the guy a taste of his own medicine… Likes tricks, does he?”

Pinkie tittered happily. “Tee-hee-hee… that was some party trick, girls.”

“Just be glad it worked,” sneered Rarity, whose brow looked like thunder. “Serves him right. Sixteen years, and still, after the things he did to us… Make me fall in love with a rock! I never. Well, let’s see how he likes being a rock.”

Fluttershy, characteristically, hadn’t said much. They noticed her give Rarity an odd glance at those last words, though.

“Not very long… right?” Dash asked, looking somewhat uncertain. “I mean… if the Queen thinks the Empire can use him the same way as our Discord…”

“That’s for the Queen and Twi’ to decide,” said Applejack.

Some of Rarity’s glare faded. “It does seem such a horrid thing,” she said, pawing a forehoof. “Even for the likes of him. I mean, can’t the Queen just… do what she did before, put him away? I dislike seeing what Twilight’s serum does to humans, it’s ghastly stuff, but at least it doesn’t... kill them…”

“Oh, don’t worry, Rares,” Pinkie said, unusually sober. “I saw the Queen. She had that twinkle in her eye. Nope, she’s got a super-special surprise in mind.”

Somehow, Pinkie didn’t seem happy about that.

With a twitch of the ears, Applejack glanced to the open doors. “I hear hoof-steps,” she said, “Two pairs of ‘em. Git ready, that must be them.”

Her guess was quickly confirmed. Soon after, two figures made their appearance, silhouetted in the doorway, both adorned by Imperial regalia.

“Your Majesty,” said Rarity, bowing modestly. Her friends followed suit. “Your Ladyship.”

“Arise, friends,” Queen Celestia replied, bidding it by forehoof. “You know, there really needn’t be all this formality every time.”

“That’s kind of you, my Queen,” Rarity said, rising. “But I think you know better than anyone, procedure’s what guards us from the wicked forces of chaos.”

Celestia inclined her head. “It’s well said, Dame Rarity,” she answered, in a wise tone. “And I believe it can also be claimed, despite the setbacks we’ve been forced to endure, that your faithful adherence to procedure allowed us flawless victory over the Lord of Chaos. The humans couldn’t have been allowed such power on their side.”

There were some dutiful chuckles, even from Fluttershy.

“But, Your Majesty,” Pinkie asked, “what shall we do with him? You decide yet?”

Twilight stood forward. “No, not yet,” she said, answering for Celestia. “Yet the Queen says she has got an idea… I’ll let you know as soon it’s a sure thing, girls.”

“Aww,” said Pinkie, in half-feigned dejection. “I was hoping you’d tell us now! I agree with Rarity, it does seem a shame to waste a guy like that, who can create chocolate rain…”

“I think you’re the only one who enjoyed that,” Rarity huffed. “It leaves stains everywhere.”

“Don’t mind her,” Pinkie told Twilight. “But what’s true, Twi’, is you look a bit messy yourself. Dashie explained what happened… Didn’t get any sleep for three days, then you had to fight that awful battle?” She shook her head, eyes plainly going back, for a moment, to memories from the Crystal War. “Sheesh, Twilight… I couldn’t stay up three days on a sugar high. What you need’s a pick-me-up, once you’re rested. How ‘bout that?”

Twilight looked at her wanly. “Thanks, Pinkie, but… I’m sorry, I just can’t deal with loud noises right now.”

“Oooh, right. A quieeeet party.”

Though she shook her head still, Twilight let out a fond chuckle. “No, sorry,” she said. “No parties yet… I just need some more... sleep.”

“You sure?” Pinkie asked.

“If you’re going to be throwing a party,” Twilight said, “I want to feel I’m at my best. Right now, I think I need time to decompress.”

“The party will always be waiting…” Pinkie said, and upon receiving looks from the other Bearers, sheepishly continued, “...For when you’re ready!”

A moment was taken to digest her words. Of those present aside from the Queen, Rarity and Fluttershy were the ones with the greatest inkling of what Luna had meant to Twilight.

However, the moment was interrupted by a cough from the Queen herself.

“The Lady Archmage is right,” said Celestia. “I suggest we all follow her example, and grant ourselves rest. There’ll be new challenges to face in the days to come, and we must be ready to face them.”

Applejack tilted her head inquisitively. “You mean this place what Discord and Nightmare Moon came from,” she said. “And that Cadance. This… Mirror-Equestria.”

“Yes,” Celestia said gravely. “Now come. Let’s not burden our minds further, for now.”

She turned, heading back up the steps, not waiting for any of them. There was no risk in this. Celestia had explained that, on her watch, the Vault would never lock itself with people inside.

One by one, the Bearers moved to follow her, Rarity and Dash taking the lead. As Twilight readied herself to bring up the rear, however, Fluttershy stopped before she’d passed the doors, turning to her.

“Um, Twilight?”

“Yeah?”

Fluttershy nodded at Discord’s statue. “Using the Elements? Why didn’t you, um, ask us to do it to Nightmare Moon, too?”

Twilight paused in her steps, though she didn’t look up to meet the pegasus’s eyes. Her answer came out a sad little whisper.

“... Because she wasn’t Nightmare Moon.”

“Oh... I’m sorry.”

“Yeah...” Twilight’s sigh was a tiny thing. She moved past Fluttershy, who’d remained rooted where she was. “You coming?”

Fluttershy glanced at her.

“In a minute,” she said. “I’ve… got to think about something.”

This made Twilight crinkle her brow in surprise. Fluttershy, choosing to stay back alone, here in the deep, dimly-lit place with the scary statue of a being who’d once almost driven them mad? Fluttershy had grown bolder over the years, yet even so, this seemed odd for her to do.

Still, if Fluttershy wanted to do it, she must have a good reason.

“Fair enough,” Twilight shrugged. “Be waiting for you upstairs. Don’t dawdle too long, Flutters.”

“You know me.”

Left alone as the sound of Twilight’s steps receded up the stairs, Fluttershy found herself lost in her thoughts, forehoof idly clutching at the Element she wore around her neck.

It’d been a long time since any of them had used their Elements.

Seeing as one of the last, notable times they’d sought to use the artefacts, in their fight against the Dark King, it had ended in terrible failure – every time it was proven the Elements could still respond to their call was a welcome relief. But how strange it felt, having now turned the Elements twice upon the same enemy. Especially when that enemy was Lord Discord.

Her eyes trailed towards the lying statue, and she took a step forward.

None of them had ever forgotten what Discord had done to them, playing mind games which rivalled the Dark King Sombra’s in their wickedness. When Fluttershy had been the only one to truly resist, he’d cheated abominably, making her betray her truest self. Yet in an odd way, this made her perhaps the only one to take a ‘lesson’ of Discord’s to heart. In years gone by, bad things had come to pass, but she’d emerged less weak and helpless than she’d been. Surely, that must be a good thing.

Fluttershy brought her face level to his. Maybe it was a trick of the light, yet she thought she caught a reflective glint off Discord’s stone eye. His eyes did not frighten her. When push came to shove, she’d always out-stared the wildest creatures. What surprised her was the sadness she saw there.

Yet perhaps that wasn’t surprising. Encased in stone thrice for eternity, with neither Element, nor Stare, nor perhaps Conversion coaxing the good from this poor creature…

A loneliness which made her heart ache to think of. But the Queen’s will was final.

Sighing regretfully, Fluttershy leaned forward, kissing Discord’s cheek. She kept her lips pressed to the cold stone for a few heartbeats, before she pulled back, whispering.

“If only you weren’t such a big meanie…”

She turned and left. The lights winked out as the brass doors closed after her, leaving the statue in a darkened room.

~ San Francisco, California, USA ~ November 17th, 2024 CE ~

“Are you ready, Cadance?”

Cadance ruffled her wings, and with neither their armour nor Luna’s tourist get-up, she was feeling terribly aware of both their lack of attire. They waited in the centre of a clinically white, tiled room, between two locked doors and a one-way glass panel which stretched all across the wall. Cadance internally noted a resemblance with an airlock from the larger ships of the skies.

A decontamination chamber, they had been informed this room was called. A requirement for safe travel across the mechanical gateways that connected Earth and Equestria.

Two Equestrias, now.

Before undergoing this procedure, they had been provided with refreshments, which she’d seen Luna happily help herself to, but Cadance hadn’t felt like eating much at all. According to what they’d been told by Major Bauer, the portal device was on its preliminary stages, and while they’d been repeatedly assured of its safety, it wouldn’t be the same as the Crystal Mirror.

“Yeah… I am, Aunt Luna,” said Cadance. “Are you… are you sure this’ll work?”

“Come too far just to turn back, haven’t we?” Luna smirked. “If I get what Miss Star told you, all they need is to trace what they gathered of our native world’s residue. Not magic– Science!”

As if on cue, a humming arose from the ceiling. The harsh white glare of the lamps turned violet, bathing the room in a low lavender light.

They each beheld this sight, perplexed, before refocusing.

“Okay… okay,” Cadance said, releasing her breath. “Then I’m ready.” Still, something was tugging at her mind. “Aunt Luna? May I ask you something?”

Luna nodded. “Yes?”

“I know you told me about what you did to… did to Twilight,” Cadance said gently. “But…”

She paused. Luna didn’t seem apprehensive, and that was good enough to press on.

“What did you see?” Cadance asked “I know that look. That’s the look you’ve given me every time someone has… the really bad kind of nightmares.”

Luna smiled. A sad little smile, at that. “Yes,” she whispered. “Twilight’s eternal nightmare. This is something I shall inform Tia and the others as well, so you’ll have to wait. I still need to contemplate it. But, she mentioned… a name, just before I was cast out from her dreams.”

Cadance tilted her head curiously.

“Or not so much a name, as a title,” Luna whispered. “The Architect.”

“Wait… isn’t…” Cadance swallowed. “Didn’t Father Krampus mention that name at the Concordia?”

“He did,” Luna said. “Said it was the ‘Architect’ who brought the human child to Equus… He must’ve meant Megan Williams. And the Architect… I thought it might be Firefly, but… Whoever it is, it can’t be her.”

“Be? You don’t mean have been?”

“No,” Luna said quietly. “The Architect is an alicorn, and she still lives.”

Cadance goggled at her aunt. “Another alicorn, like Ga– like the G-Mare?”

“Something else…” Luna said. “One of the ancient alicorns, older even than Celestia or… well, any other you’ve met, my dear niece. That’s to say, one created by the Old Race… Like Sunflare. She made Alexander’s heart-shaped locket. I learned this from Twilight. In her mind, and out.”

Names to process. Suspicions to sift through.

“Cadance,” Luna cut in. “Shortly after I returned from exile, I met you, and marvelled to behold one from my lineage had fully earned her birthright. Yet now on this world, I see it’s as Alexander had said. Lady Cadance is not an alicorn. Why is this?”

Memories, from last night and far before, flashed before Cadance.

“... She never met that sorceress, Aunt Luna. Not Prismia. Not like I did. It’s after I won the Alicorn Amulet off her… I rose up to the Plane of Images, where Celestia came for me, and told me I’d be gifted a horn and working wings…”

Luna smacked her lips. “And the sorceress? What happened to her?”

“I don’t know,” Cadance admitted, shame-faced. “When I came back down, she’d vanished. We never found where she went to.”

“Hmm… Convenient,” Luna mused. “Twice, a child, elevated by a mystical artefact… History may not repeat, but it rhymes...”

“Then,” said Cadance. “Luna, you don’t think Prismia…”

“Is who we’re looking for?” Luna said darkly. “I presume nothing, Cadance, until we’ve got concrete proof. You’ll have to tell me the whole story again.”

Cadance digested her words. Meanwhile, the humming was ceasing, as the violet light slowly returned to the stark white from when they’d entered the room.

“If she’s still alive on that other world… that must mean she’s alive on ours, too.”

“I’d thought about that,” Luna agreed. “Unless the Empire caught up to her and killed her, like they did their– ahem, G-Mare. But I doubt it. Still, this might be our greatest chance. Finding her on a world controlled by the Empire would be arduous… On our world, less so.”

“What if she’s already left?” Cadance said hesitantly. “Found a place to hide, here on Earth.”

“Who knows…” Luna sighed. “Who knows... I went to this world with a mission. We achieved our goal of contacting their leaders. We have listened, and promised to help their people. Yet, I’ve failed in other ways, plain and simple.”

Swiftly, Cadance place a forehoof on her shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up,” she said encouragingly.

A hydrolic hissing sound emerged from the door ahead. With a whirr, it opened automatically.

Luna was staring at the door. “It’s the truth. Often, though, and this is something I’ve told many in their dreams, failure precedes success. I wonder when that success will come for us.”

“Well,” said Cadance. “We found Earth. And we’re on our way home. If anything, I should be feeling ashamed. I shouldn’t have lost to Shining that easily.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Luna said quickly.

“And Twilight wasn’t your fault either. So let’s not wait for success. We’ll make our own.”

Waiting for them in boxes within the antechamber on the other side, processed separately, was their precious armour. They took the time to put it back on. Cadance, the light violet-steel armour of the Crystal Realm; Luna her personal obsidian set.

They strode out, side-by-side.

High Castle was a repurposed hangar, vast and empty, dominated by the colossal portal, a collapsible, circular metal gateway that had been expanded to accomodate for Spike’s vast bulk. By the portal waited three humans and four Equestrians. The humans were Major Stephan Bauer, Corporal Maxine Radwick and Hanne Adler.

Next to the two PHL higher-ups, Cadance recognised Amethyst’s younger sister, Dinky. And beside her, a little stallion...

“Pipsqueak…?”

Luna’s voice was almost breathless. The pinto stallion blinked, and nervously adjusted the red bandanna he wore.

“Oh-uh, yes, that’s me, ma’am! I mean Your Highness. Um, sorry.”

“No, no, it’s quite alright. It’s good to see you again,” said Luna. Cadance thought she sounded blindsided by nostalgia. “Last I saw you, in our Equestria… you were such a tiny colt.” She paused. Her lips quivered. “‘Best Princess’, you called me, that Nightmare Night.”

Pipsqueak laughed anxiously, but his smile was genuine. “Aw, it’s been a long time, ah-hah…”

Twilight had told Cadance of that Nightmare Night. The details were scant, but enough to see why Luna had appreciated that celebration. She nudged her aunt.

“Old friend of yours?” she asked cheekily. But Luna remained silent.

Then Dinky coughed, and Pipsqueak suddenly seemed to remember something.

“So, um… I’ve been meaning to ask…” He opened up his saddlebag and, sheepishly, pulled out a notepad. “Can… I have your autograph? Actually, uh, two. I think Patch would like one too.”

“Patch?”

Pipsqueak again rummaged in his saddlebag, from which he brought out a photo.

On that photo was a family. He and Dinky, their faces lined with fatigue, yet radiant. And between them, an infant colt, his coat a dead ringer for Pipsqueak’s down to the spots, but his mane shone gold like Dinky’s.

“Our son,” Dinky smiled. “Three next Spring.”

Cadance looked at Pipsqueak and Dinky, then back at Luna. She saw Luna’s eyes brimming with unspilled tears.

“Of course, Pip,” said Luna. Her voice grew unsteady. “Of course, you can… you can have all the autographs you want...”

It didn’t go unnoticed by Cadance that Luna choked out the phrase, barely managing to finish. She wrote in silence.

“Thanks, Princess!” Pipsqueak said cheerfully, as Luna returned his autographs. “You’re still the best, you know–”

“Okay, okay,” said Dinky, giggling. “Cool it there, Pip, we don’t have much time. Come on, everyone, we need to go.”

Luna didn’t say much to anyone afterwards.

A nod here and there, to both Lady Cadenza and Dame Moondancer. Each stood dressed for the occasion in PHL vest, their colours signifying their department allegiance.

“Go in friendship, Highnesses,” Major Bauer said as he saluted them. “I hope we meet again. You have my word, we’ll send you that captive Trailblazer imminently. Oh, and tell Reiner he still owes me twenty quid for that poker game.”

“Good luck, Princesses,” said Hanne Adler. “You must come back soon.”

Maxine Radwick spoke last, after a long pause. “When you see Alex… Say I said ‘hi’.”

Luna traced a forehoof across the dozing Spike, but no words left her mouth. Not even when Dinky asked if they were ready to make the crossing.

“Safe trip, everyone!” Dinky shouted, before reentering the control-room.

The device hummed and whistled. Cadance saw Luna throw one final, hopeful glance at Pipsqueak, who stood beaming behind the control-room window.

“Aunt Luna?” asked Cadance. “Are you alright?”

But she already knew Luna’s answer, from the love that flowed, a love for her family and friends.

“I am, Cadance,” Luna whispered, wiping away a tear. “I’m very much alright…”

The Princess of the Night and the Crystal Princess, and Lady Cadenza and Dame Moondancer, their four auras bearing the great Spike between them, stepped through the doorway, and together crossed the void between the worlds.

~ New York City, USA ~

“Ma’am?”

“Amethyst,” said Cheerilee. “What’s the sitrep?”

“Our Cadance and Dancer have already gone through,” said Amethyst, handing her a notepad. “I’ll be notifying High Castle to prepare further transfers.”

“And Miss Adler?”

“Still in San Francisco. We’ll keep her occupied for now. Can’t risk a leak.”

“Good,” said Cheerilee, looking away from Amethyst, to those she’d summoned to Freedom Tower’s front hall.

“Ma’am, is it true?” said the one-eyed thestral. “The Princess…”

He stood with his fellow thestrals. Although scattered, the few dozen remaining Night Guards had managed to gather here, from their stations across North America. Including Selene, the pilot who’d returned from Texas once Lady Cadance’s private jet was no longer required, and who looked ready to burst into a wide grin.

Cheerilee met Gibbous’ missing-eye gaze with her own. She took a deep breath.

“Alright, my friends,” Cheerilee began. “Are you ready to have your minds blown?”

She waited for a word, any word. All there was, however, were silent faces, hanging on to whatever she’d say next.

“There’s a chance… maybe... that Celestia might not want us dead, after all...”

* * * * *

End of Act Two

Author's Note:

Spectrum 2.1 - Autumn 2021

VoxAdam:

• This chapter features no noteworthy modifications, other than Princesses Cadance and Luna passing through a decontamination chamber on the way to the portal, for verisimilitude.

Spectrum 2.0 - February 01st 2020

Sledge115:

And here we are, at the end of Act Two – Moonrise . Apologies for the delay, turns out there’s quite a few more scenes needed to expand on a few things, and the fact that it’s a separate chapter allowed us to write them in full.

It's been a pleasure organising and writing for this Act, but the time has come for me (and Luna) to step back for Act Three, for Lyra shall retake her rightful spot as the main protagonist for the next Act. I’ll still be very closely involved for the next Act, though, just not as the proverbial director. For there are, let’s say, a few arcs within it that I’ll be very keen to write for.

Act Two had always been in the making from the very start in one form or another. Boston was such an iconic part of the original, and I hope Moonrise has succeeded in living up to it, at least.

We kept Luna because she just works, you see. And I freely admit that I absolutely adore Luna. Not exactly an unpopular opinion, I know But the first episode of Friendship is Magic that I ever watched was “Luna Eclipsed”, and Luna made one hell of an impression. She’s funny, she’s cool, she’s adorable and regal, she’s got a lovely design and well, you get the gist. There’s so much to say about her (granted, so does Celestia), gah, I could go at it for a whole day! She’s still Best Pony and Best Princess after all this time, and I suppose getting to write Luna so extensively is homecoming for me, from where it all began.

The Archmage was only realised as the main antagonist for this Act in January of 2019, and needless to say, well, I hope she proved to be the right choice over the clone. I personally thought bringing back the Mirror Pool clone would be too much of a rehash to do again, and frankly boring. Suffice to say, I now can’t imagine this Act without the Luna and Twilight dynamic, and looking back, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Cadance, meanwhile, she wasn’t actually in the original version, nor the initial outline we had created for 2.0. If I remember correctly, her involvement was only added after the Archmage right before Moonrise’s outline was written out in full. However, she’s proven herself to be a very nice perspective to write and I’m glad some of you have taken notice. While Luna still has a significant role in Chapter Nineteen and Twenty, Cadance is just as important as her ancestor, and arguably even more so given how much she’s given to do. Consider this an apology for her taking a backseat in the previous chapters.

It’s thanks to Vox, really, for suggesting that Luna visit Alex’s hometown. That was a fun, insightful trip, especially writing it And TheIdiot too, for Maxine and Dan Radwick. They’ve all provided an important insight to Alex, and humanity as a whole. Seriously, while they extended the chapter more than planned, it’s all the more welcome.

Thanks, Doc, for Kraber and company, fun characters as usual, wreaking havoc in Boston. I never was one for action scenes, so his contributions to those was tremendous as well, hehe.

Much has been said in the fandom about how religion might work in Equestria – but what if Equestria doesn’t have a concept of organised religion? What if, considering that ponykind are nature’s caretakers in their land, they simply never bothered with creating one? This, I think, added a nice change of pace with how an outsider would view Earth’s religions.

Also, for the record, I’m not Christian, so I hope this outsider mindset only helped with Luna’s point of view. The church scene was a delight to write, of course, and it was nice to tie it thematically with what Luna had discussed before with Darkhoof, all the way back in Chapter Thirteen.

There’s plenty of things I need to say outside of this chapter, of course, but I have my blog post for that. If you’d like, you can find it HERE

And so, we go forth into Act Three – Into the Unknown. As always, we’d love to hear your feedback, your questions too, and we hope you’ve all enjoyed Act Two

Oh, and just for fun, here's a hypothetical main cast list for Act Two, for your consideration in imagining their voices, or to imagine it rolling at the end of this Act/Season. Of course, you could always have your own voice for them, I don’t mind. The list is arranged a bit randomly, with guest roles prominent – roll credits!

Tabitha St. Germain as Princess Luna

Tara Strong as Twilight Sparkle

Britt McKillip as Princess Cadance / Lady Cadance

Daniel Brühl as Stephan Bauer

Sharlto Copley as Viktor Kraber

Gugu Mbatha-Raw as Yael Ze'ev

Ashleigh Ball as Rainbow Dash

Andrew Francis as Shining Armor

Ingvild Deila as Ana Björkman

Tom Hiddleston as Thomas Harwood

Grey DeLisle as Frieda

Teresa Palmer as Maxine Radwick

Madeleine Peters as Scootaloo

Jessie Flower as Whistle Stop

Joe Keery as Green Sprout

Iain Glen as Oaken Plow

Barry Sloane as Sparks Timber

Karen Gillan as Shearwater

Giancarlo Esposito as Salty Breeze

Melina Juergens as Hanne Adler

Daisy Ridley as Dame Moondancer

Sarah Nicole-Robles as Verity Carter

John De Lancie as Discord

with Genevieve O’Reilly as Galatea

Emily Bett Rickards as Ambassador Lyra Heartstrings

And Nicole Oliver as Queen Celestia / Commandant Cheerilee

RoyalPsycho: Hello, all. Though my material has featured in previous chapters, I like to see this as something similar to a formal introduction to the main story. As I probably said before, I have been very peripheral to this project and mostly corresponded with more regular contributors, but this chapter finally features material written specifically for the purpose of being involved in the main story. I’m happy to be a part of this and look forward to continuing my direct participation in Spectrum. Here’s hoping you all like what I have to offer, because it is going to be spectacular.

VoxAdam: And so we reach the end of this Act, and a much weightier Act than expected.

Honestly, I’ve had an odd relationship with this one. It’s in the preceding Act, prior to Summer last year – e.g. 2019 at the time of this writing, that I’d poured most of my all into Spectrum 2.0., knowing it wouldn’t be too long until a lifestyle change made it potentially harder for me to invest my time into the story. We’d known a good few months in advance that Act Two – Moonrise would revolve entirely around the Battle of Boston and its aftermath, and that Sledge would get the reins for this particular arc, for various reasons he’s outlined better than I here and in previous notes. I kept mainly to the editing and proofreading throughout, focused on preparing for Act Three – Into The Unknown, but as we drew closer to the conclusion, I found myself gradually easing back into active writing…

… Which is probably one reason you can credit for the last two chapters being this long again.

You know what, I’ll forgo getting terribly detailed in this note, even though this would be as much for the wrap on the whole Act as for a single chapter. All except to hone in one element from the finished chapter.

Yup, if you weren’t aware, “Jarden”, the name of Alexander Reiner’s hometown, is in fact a reference to HBO’s The Leftovers, a truly wonderful little series which redeems Damon Lindelof’s missteps with LOST or Prometheus. When two-percent of the world’s population disappears abruptly and without explanation, is the most interesting angle to explore the explanation, or how people who’ll likely never find answers cope with this new reality? Originally airing from 2014-2017, it’s a genuinely intelligent rumination on faith and nihilism that may not be for everyone – the tone can get heavy, and the upfrontness of the central mystery never getting resolved may put off some, though others will consider it the main draw. 

Thus the church scene was one I’ve been anticipating since the start of Moonrise, to look at how a human religion might look through the eyes of Princess Luna, one of the semi-divine figures of Equestria in Friendship is Magic.

Hopefully you may appreciate the nuance that Jarden’s church scene was penned by two people of whom neither are Christian. As said by Sledge, this is seen from an outsider’s perspective and while I’m not entirely an outsider to Christianity, having been part of the faith when I was younger, the Christian religion alone has numerous denominations with their subtle variations in belief for what even constitutes Christianity.

To conclude, Moonrise has represented the typical Spectrum main story’s challenge of wishing to integrate everything it can, from the show’s canon to the existing side-stories, in its effort to make the ‘verse feel like a cohesive, intertwined entity. With approval from DoctorFluffy, the fate of one particular OC of his is addressed here, in a manner that hopefully feels not so much like a Fully Absorbed Finale – which it isn’t, given Doc has every intention of concluding Light Despondent and other stories – but a setup for an upcoming step within this story… 

But while on the topic of unanswered questions and ongoing sub-plots, for those left curious by the Cadances’ revelation at the very end of last chapter, and wondering at the fact a full explanation wasn’t immediately forthcoming in this chapter, rest assured. Though it’s a big story, we’re doing what we can not to pull a LOST or Battlestar Galactica or, let’s say it, Game of Thrones. On paper, we do have resolutions planned out for the key plotlines, and the means to share them in the unfortunate scenario that Spectrum become a dead ponyfic.  

This to say that Cadance’s personal history, at the very least, should soon be addressed again. What she has to tell Luna won’t remain between them.

Cheers,
~VoxAdam

Comments

[Yutah123]

Huh. Is it just me, or did this chapter come out sooner than expected?

No matter, more SPECTRUM for me!

---

She tapped one of the journals.

“And to hear Firefly spoken of so fondly, in these pages… I believe in Megan’s story.”

Yes!!!

They got a major clue! It won't give them much in the way of relevant details, but it sure as hell put them on the right track.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Twilight’s eternal nightmare. This is something I shall inform Tia and the others as well, so you’ll have to wait. I still need to contemplate it. But, she mentioned… a name, just before I was cast out from her dreams.”

Ah yes.

Twilight.

Can't wait to hear Luna's explanation/exposition. The less muddy those mental shenanigans are the better.

You are going to have an exposition... right?

“Thanks, Princess!” Pipsqueak said cheerfully, as Luna returned his autographs. “You’re still the best, you know–”

“Okay, okay,” said Dinky, giggling. “Cool it there, Pip, we don’t have much time. Come on, everyone, we need to go.”

Luna didn’t say much to anyone afterwards.

[Sledge115]

10062761

Huh. Is it just me, or did this chapter come out sooner than expected?

No matter, more SPECTRUM for me!

Oh yes it did

They got a major clue! It won't give them much in the way of relevant details, but it sure as hell put them on the right track.

In times like these, every lead counts. The answers won't come easy, true - but every little thing counts towards the bigger picture.

Can't wait to hear Luna's explanation/exposition. The less muddy those mental shenanigans are the better.

You are going to have an exposition... right?

[RanOutOfIdeas]

You guys are treating this universe well. Few fics got me reinvested in them.

It's like that show you watched as a kid and thought was amazing, but once you grew older you started seeing some flaws in it, just for the writers to do a complete revamp and now everything is just fucking right.

Godspeed you madlads, and a well-earned rest.

Edit: Kinda like DOOM 2016. I just can't play the old DOOM anymore, the new generation is just too good.

[Sledge115]

10062836

You guys are treating this universe well. Few fics got me reinvested in them.

It's like that show you watched as a kid and thought was amazing, but once you grew older you started seeing some flaws in it, just for the writers to do a complete revamp and now everything is just fucking right.

Godspeed you madlads, and a well-earned rest.

And we're glad it did Working on this fic has actually increased my love for the show. There's a lot of fun in weaving in together so, so many things from the show, the comics, and more.

Stay tuned, for there is more yet to come!

[gakposter]

Anyhow, I'm glad Discord isn't just going to be drained and killed, but something in me knows his fate will be much worse...

I'm itching to see the reactions to a Celestia that isn't evil. It'll be good, it'll be bad. But it's an interaction I want to see so badly.

[Sledge115]

10062933

I'm itching to see the reactions to a Celestia that isn't evil. It'll be good, it'll be bad. But it's an interaction I want to see so badly.

It's interactions like these, of course, that we intend to portray with the right gravitas.

[EchoWolf31]

Damn, was not expecting an update that fast.

I like how we got a look at the inner workings of the Solar Empire. Xeno!Celestia has actually delegated (yes, that's a thing) the multitude of responsibilities of her Empire to different Ministries lead by people she actually trusts, and that she doesn't threaten or kill the second they fail once. I also like how no one there is stereotypically evil with the exception Awesome Fire (WTF that name). Is Tirek still going to be the Big Bad of the story or are you guys going to go for something else?

Jesus, this story has been running for almost 3 years and at 400,000 words and we just barely ended first contact and return to Equestria. With this just being the end of Act Two how many Acts are there going to be? I imagine bare minimum at least five.

[Yutah123]

10062775
That worries me.

[Sledge115]

10063022

I like how we got a look at the inner workings of the Solar Empire. Xeno!Celestia has actually delegated (yes, that's a thing) the multitude of responsibilities of her Empire to different Ministries lead by people she actually trusts, and that she doesn't threaten or kill the second they fail once.

They may be fascist, but that doesn't mean literally everything has to be under Celestia's direct control, of course Plus, if you keep killing people over fuck ups, well, you'll run out of officials soon enough.

I also like how no one there is stereotypically evil with the exception Awesome Fire (WTF that name). Is Tirek still going to be the Big Bad of the story or are you guys going to go for something else?

Without spoiling anything, well, it's all about managing expectations, really. We're trying our best to keep surprises fresh, but also without giving answers that come completely out of left field. Looking at you, Game of Thrones

Jesus, this story has been running for almost 3 years and at 400,000 words and we just barely ended first contact and return to Equestria. With this just being the end of Act Two how many Acts are there going to be? I imagine bare minimum at least five.

Well, you know what they say; slow and steady wins the race. Even in our slower periods, SPECTRUM continues to be written at least bit by bit. I can tell you this, though, we already have an ending in mind, and an outline in place. Five Acts.

[Sledge115]

10063037

I'm kidding, I'm kidding - of course we are, heh. Luna and Cadance both have a lot to unpack, after all.

[EchoWolf31]

10063041
Good to see my guess was on.
Also, I just caught this.

“Guess a superior being, a truly superior being, can do things that if a lesser being like a human were to do... then it would be evil.”

I saw what you guys did there. Took me a hot second, but I got it. I actually paused the first time I read that because it was such an oddly specific phrase that I swore I saw it somewhere before.

[Sledge115]

10063062

Good to see my guess was on.

I could also be lying

I saw what you guys did there. Took me a hot second, but I got it. I actually paused the first time I read that because it was such an oddly specific phrase that I swore I saw it somewhere before.

We couldn't resist giving this one a Take That. In the right chapter, too.

[Yutah123]

10063042
Well, Celestia certainly won't be having a good day when they come back.

Also, I didn't mention this before, but you're certainly doing a great job of humanizing (equinizing?) the Empire. Damn it, why do we have to think about the enemy and not just have them be faceless monsters to be killed.

Just kidding about the last part. Mostly.

It still would be nice to not have to have qualms, but the conflict this provides is frustratingly good.

[Sledge115]

10063080

Also, I didn't mention this before, but you're certainly doing a great job of humanizing (equinizing?) the Empire. Damn it, why do we have to think about the enemy and not just have them be faceless monsters to be killed.

Just kidding about the last part. Mostly.

It still would be nice to not have to have qualms, but the conflict this provides is frustratingly good.

One of the most disconcerting part (at least in my opinion) of the original Spectrum was how it tried to emphasise that 'hey there's a reason your counterparts turned evil', but also 'the Empire is super bad so we probably shouldn't feel guilty about exterminating them', or 'your counterparts are too far gone, you should probably kill them'.

It's like what Hanne Adler said; they're just people. I've mentioned this in a blog post, but... really, the heart of the show, and giving the Empire a down-to-earth quality, that all shouldn't be forgotten

[DDDDDDDDD23]

you need to spend less time on the evil equestria because the truth is no matter how you want to paint it either they are evil bitches or just celestia listening to prerecorded words she put in the ponies.

[gakposter]

10063414
that's how it was in the previous fic. Now, it's just circumstance keeping them in Celestia's thrall.

[Jed R]

10063414
Firstly: the writers “need” to do what they think is right and good for their preferences as the people putting their hard work into this story (hard work they do for no other reason than the desire to tell a story, not because anyone is compensating them for their time).

Secondly: I happen to think, and I believe that the current Spectrum writing team agrees, that there is far more tragedy to be found exploring just what it is that makes these characters - who are friendly, peaceful, gentle people in the “canon” universe - turn into the Solar Empire.

Thirdly: without spoiling anything, if you want a story where the TCB-Equestrians are “evil bitches” without there being nuance to their fate, Spectrum has never been that. In the original story the Mane 6 were being tortured within their own minds, I’m not privy to what exactly is going on now, but I suspect a subtler brainwashing. Celestia in the original was being tortured and controlled (albeit the narrative occasionally forgot this). Again, I’m not privy to the writing team’s current full intentions, but I can only presume something similar is the case.

There is an inherent tragedy to the twisting of these ponies’ lives. I for one think it’s far more interesting to read that than to have them be 2-dimensionally villainous.

[Sledge115]

10063414

If the story makes it so that the 'canon' Equestria doesn't have to feel some guilt and hesitation over killing, would that really make them better? Giving the Empire a perspective, and showing that they actually have depth and positive qualities allows a more balanced portrayal, while still making it clear that they're still a genocidal empire. SPECTRUM 2.0 and hell, even the original Spectrum at least tries to give the Empire a justification to why they're acting like that instead of the classical Xenolestia portrayal. And it'd be out of character for the 'good' Equestria to simply fall in line and shoot where they're pointed to.

[TheIdiot]

10063414 Oh, I'm sorry good sir that this moral ambiguity and development regarding the different factions and perspectives in this story aren't to your liking. I'm sure there's a fanfic with this exact premise.

Carpe diem.

[RanOutOfIdeas]

10063414
C'mon my dude, I think any reason beats "cause racism bad and they evil bitches yo".

That would feel like kindergarden-style morality, and we at least first grade here. Can't have toddlers debating existence, the meaning of being and, when under the right circumstances, even the best people could end up guarding the trains to Auschwitz.

[keroko]

And so the new Battle for Boston ends. It's... an interesting thing to compare, as it is at the same time both less and more impactful. The initial Battle for Boston was a titanic battle, with forces on both sides clashing in great numbers, alicorns and a draconiquis fighting in the sky, one of whom the Tyrant herself, and great power on both sides being thrown around. We see the armies on the ground crash into eachother, and even the various corrupted members of the Elements and how they fight with the PHL members.

By comparison, the battle part of this Battle for Boston feels far more subdued, as the focus is more on the interactions and reactions of both sides to one another. The titanic clashes are few and brief, and even there the focus is more on learning from one another rather than the battle itself.

I'd have to say that between the two, this new one is far better, though the big battle of the previous one was certainly satisfying in its own way.

[Sledge115]

10064652

And so the new Battle for Boston ends. It's... an interesting thing to compare, as it is at the same time both less and more impactful.

Less is more as they say, though ironically, Moonrise has a larger word count than the original Boston Arc

By comparison, the battle part of this Battle for Boston feels far more subdued, as the focus is more on the interactions and reactions of both sides to one another. The titanic clashes are few and brief, and even there the focus is more on learning from one another rather than the battle itself.

Aye - with the intent being to show how the Empire operates as a whole, rather than have them put all their money on their heaviest hitters (the clone in the original, the Archmage in here).

I'd have to say that between the two, this new one is far better, though the big battle of the previous one was certainly satisfying in its own way.

Glad you've enjoyed it As always, there is more yet to come, for the war has only begun for Sunny Equestria.

[Doctor Fluffy]

10064002

[David M Coleman]

Only up to chapter 8, but this story makes me think of this song for some reason.

[Sledge115]

10064652

By comparison, the battle part of this Battle for Boston feels far more subdued, as the focus is more on the interactions and reactions of both sides to one another. The titanic clashes are few and brief, and even there the focus is more on learning from one another rather than the battle itself.

Actually, to address this further, part of it stemmed from the fact that as we entered 19, well, we realised we needed to give everyone time to unwind and breathe, as most works nowadays tend to forget. The focus on learning from each other is also important, as Luna and Cadance both need time to investigate even as they unwind.

Part of the challenge is determining which reaction is important, and we hope we chose the right ones to show.

[VoxAdam]

10040589, 10040993, 10041017

Now we've reached the end of Act Two - Moonrise, e.g. the Battle of Boston, I feel confident in pointing back towards a hint that was pretty heavily given during Archmage Twilight's memories in Chapter Seventeen ('Thus, Lift Me Up'). For this version of Spectrum, Lady Cadance's lack of good wings may well be more than a divergence, but the divergence.

Actually, with that in mind, 10064652... Why, thank you very much for the comment leaving an opinion on the whole of the Act, Keroko. Given that Chapters Nineteen and Twenty were initially planned as one chapter until we realised how much there was to cover - finally essentially splitting between Cadance continuing the bulk of her investigations in Nineteen, Luna discovering more about human culture in Twenty - I can't say it doesn't fit to approach it as such.

Still, I am a little surprised you forwent commenting on certain elements the actual chapter does cover, which you've shown interest in prior, like Cadance's history with Prismia, or the presence of Shieldwall. Not that this won't get followup in the story fairly soon, at least in terms of chapter content, particularly the former...

As Sledge would say, stay tuned.

9983314

Lovely to hear from you again, Helios. I think many of us were waiting a long while to hear your opinion on how the new Spectrum fares after the experience gained from the original.

However, the big hope remains that one day, this Spectrum can fully stand on its own.

P.S.
Glad the church scene appears to have been generally accepted by the readership, based on the absence of negative feedback. It is a complex topic, we're well aware, yet two days after the Full Moon on November 15th 2024, the date of November 17th 2024 being a Sunday while Luna was visiting Alex's hometown in Texas made it too good an opportunity to miss.

[VoxAdam]

Also, 9983314, in response to your comment on what you consider the "theme" music of the modern Spectrum, Maybe we have a psychic connection to a degree, because the theme for Deus Ex: Mankind Divided has also crossed my mind or being playing in the background on numerous occasions while crafting the story.

Mind you, other select hypothetical themes have included the opening music for Fringe, which has a conflict between two parallel universes at the core of its mythos, or the old mini-series V: The Final Battle, also about extraterrestrials coming to Earth under a benign guise that turns out to be a facade, or Stranger Things, that last one being mainly due to shared personal appeal.

However, one piece I'm pretty sure no-one else here has heard of is the track this chapter takes its name from, originating in a film so obscure as to barely qualify for cult status, but which ranks amongst my list of favourite movies hardly anyone else knows about, 2007's Gabriel;

I like the sombre, yet hopeful note it carries.

[keroko]

10068322
Hmwell, there's not much about Prismia we learn in this chapter that wasn't already said in the previous one. The rest of Cadenza's journey was just following the logical path from that point.

As for Shieldwall, it's good to finally know what happened to him. The older and current Spectrum stories were always so cheekily vague about that. We still don't really know what drives him, but it's interesting to learn there is something lurking behind the madness.

[Silentwoodfire]

TBH I kinda fell a bit for Freida and her sniper partner, great working dynamic there

Hopefully we also see some movement now that theyre sure they can safely go back and forth between worlds.

[Sledge115]

10069190

TBH I kinda fell a bit for Freida and her sniper partner, great working dynamic there

And it won't be the last you see of them

[David M Coleman]

10065643
Take that back.
THIS fits a hell of a lot better. Just look at the lyrics here.

[Sledge115]

10072281

Excellent choice!

[Sledge115]

10079143

Well, to be fair, you know how sensationalist the media can get. From all sides.

[VoxAdam]

10079296

On reflection, I agree. The discourse isn't what shall be relevant in another decade. Words are one thing, after all.

Far more concerning to me is the kind of world a decade from now where the economy, freedom of the press, women's rights, protection of the environment and public healthcare have all taken a severe blow in the space of four-to-eight years, not to mention the standards culture holds itself to.

But it's true enough that Trump's discourse is unlikely to be relevant in another decade - the man is barely capable of keeping it consistent from one week to the next. Other than in its threshold-breaking levels of hatefulness, that is.

10079143

Less rioting and more people turning up at the President's Inauguration, indeed.

Mind you, even at the time, I've suspected that one reason the previous President won is that he wasn't technically African-American. I don't mean this in the sense of conspiracy theories surrounding his passport. Obama stood out by virtue of being half-white on his mother's side, whereas his father was a black man, yet wasn't a descendant of slaves in America.

[Sledge115]

10102278

Glad you like it It's always tricky to handle brainwashing, yet we hope this captured that aspect well enough.

[Sledge115]

10107766

The only real question I have is what will happen when the truth eventually gets out and what would the fallout from it be.

As per Chernobyl;

“Every lie we tell incurs a debt to the truth. Sooner or later, that debt is paid.”

[Sledge115]

10124621

Ah, she's not the same as Sunset Shimmer, despite her design.

[dvdspires]

10124959
Will we hear from either of them?

[Sledge115]

10125524

Well, with Sunset, you'll have to ask TheIdiot, I believe

[tomi98]

Good story, but the internet sucks

[dvdspires]

“So?” he said. “That was a long time ago, lady. If you’re hoping to coax a sentimental response outta me, harking back to some boyhood joyride, guess what? Forget it. You’re not getting me that way. Maybe we thought we were hot stuff back then, gallivanting around the world on our folks’ dime… but really, it was a small world. We didn’t how much bigger it was gonna get.”

We didn’t know how much bigger it was gonna get.

[dvdspires]

“Celestia once told me a full-fledged alicorn can touch the stars. But all I see the Solar Empure wants is to drag down the stars, stick them in a box. We’re here on this distant, messy, wonderful new planet, and what’s the best they can do? Iron it out. You’re not stepping out to meet a larger world. You’re trying to shrink it down, until it shrivels up.”

Empire.

[dvdspires]

Really enjoyed this so far and I’m very much looking forward to what’s coming in the next act. Keep up the good work.

[Sledge115]

10129308

Stick around, there's plenty to see in the next Act, too

[angel3591]

Farewell to Act 2. Well done. Really interesting to see the government of the Solar Empire and its allies as well as all of the Elements together. It is refreshing to see the growing distinction between this story and the original, this story is in good [hands]. Overall the multiple perspectives from both protagonists and antagonists keep the story fluid and more engaging. Keep up the good work and hopefully see you in ACT 3!

[EileenSaysHi]

In my reviews, I feel it's good to make it clear that I'm not proposing objective truth, but subjective reactions; a review should reflect the immediate experience.
— Roger Ebert

---

The world gets bigger in Act II of Spectrum -- well, Earth does, at least -- and yet it also becomes narrower. We move from the massive scope that capped off Act I, where we saw the twelve tribes of Equus come together for a global conference to decide whether the fate of humanity rested in their [insert appropriate appendages here], to a tight focus on Earth, primarily Boston until the last chapters of the Act, as Sunny Equestria makes its presence known in the war between Imperial Equestria and the remnants of humanity. And with that move, we shrink the primary POV characters down to essentially four key ones -- Luna, Cadance, Scootaloo, and Ana. Later, a fifth is added in Archmage Twilight.

This change results in quite a bit of deep character focus, beyond what Act I could achieve in this department. We see the stakes for Luna shift from the comparatively impersonal -- the need to do right by the ideals of Equestria and stand against a genocidal enemy threatening another species -- to the very personal, with Luna finding herself isolated in another world, getting to understand firsthand how the ponies of the other Equestria have become so corrupted, and embarking on a soul-searching quest after being deeply shaken by what she has seen. Delving into the alternate Twilight's mind and witnessing the tragedy of her life (and her ill-fated romance with Luna's own alternate), then coming so close to saving her only for circumstance to wreck that chance... it's heavy-hitting stuff for certain, and the story puts care into ensuring it all lands properly.

Cadance, too, becomes a poignant figure, spending nearly the entirety of the act being put on the spot and being forced to react to any number of shocking developments, whether encountering the alternate Shining Armor, learning the story of her own alternate, and speaking before the entirety of humanity's leadership. This gets into the worldbuilding aspect of Act II; even as we keep the focus fairly closely on the Battle of Boston and its aftermath, we're smartly fed a lot of important details about the overall worlds of Spectrum-Earth and the Solar Empire. The narrative does a very good job conveying these details without feeling like they're distracting from what's going on in the present-tense of the story, filling in the past without muddying the action.

And there's quite a bit of action in Act II, as Luna and Discord step right into the middle of a combat zone that only gets more heated from there. This does lead to some disjoint between the epic magic duels and pony-on-pony combat aboard the Great Equestrian and in the sky vs. the ground combat between the various human/human-allied forces and their potion-armed pony opponents. Practically by default, the latter can't help but feel less impactful, and while the soldiers are distinct enough that I wasn't mixing them up while reading, most don't leave strongly distinct impressions as characters, mainly just serving as representatives for the two divisions of human forces we meet in the act. Still, there is an intensity to the combat sequences, particularly where Ana is involved -- most obviously, the pivotal sniping sequence. One can only wonder where that key detail will eventually lead.

Act II also presents our introduction to the Solar Empire, from many points of view -- as the force of menace that Alexander Reiner described and the humans continue to witness, as the tragic victims of a past and future that Luna and Cadance recognize has gone terribly wrong, and as the valiant heroes of their own story. Some of Scootaloo's teammates run into similar recognition issues as the human soldiers, but the lore discussed in their subplot adds a lot of dimension to the overall world, especially once the battle ends and we get to see Imperial Equestria in person. The final scene with them, where we finally meet Queen Celestia and the Bearers in the flesh and discover their personalities are shifted only slightly from their Sunny counterparts, packs a quietly potent punch.

And of course, we have plenty of plot threads introduced set to clearly play roles going forward, between the compelling new character of Verity Carter, the mysterious figure that is the Architect, the fate of Discord, and more. It will be very interesting to see these developments tie back into where we last left the world of Sunny Equestria in Act I going forward.

I look forward greatly to reading Act III.

[Dice13456]

“Guess a superior being, a truly superior being, can do things that if a lesser being like a human were to do... then it would be evil.”

The original comment of the phrase compares Celestia to gods. I guess the comment feeds Queen Celestia's god complex. This phrase also reminds me of a phrase like this in 5 years later, but in a more serious way.

“Time, huh? Thanks for the tip!”