Step Into the Light
The night was starless. The light pollution from the brightly-lit cityscape in skyscrapers all around them made it so that, even above the street level, Twilight, Spike, and the girls couldn’t see the stars. Standing on the top of their apartment building, waiting for Ironheart to come, Twilight could observe most of the Manehattan skyline’s major features.
Only a short distance away was the Chrystaller Building, with the massive horse head atop the building blocking out the hazy light of the faint moon. To the left of Twilight’s head was the Mare Statue on Equis Island, faint and dark against the night sky. Behind her were the brightly-lit billboards of Bridleway, flashing purple and pink and white.
On the streets a hundred feet below, the streets were packed with carriages full of ponies seeking a way out. In between the carriages, in the streets and sidewalks alike, were hundreds of thousands of civilians trudging along, guided to safety by the Royal Guard. Were it not for them, it would have certainly turned into a frantic stampede. The sounds of worried chatter, shouted instructions, and indignant cries wafted up to their ears far below them.
The girls were silent and were shifting and tapping the gravel on the roof of the apartment building uncomfortably as they waited. Twilight couldn’t think of anything worthwhile to say to them at the moment. She was too busy focusing on how she would respond to Ironheart.
He had said he had questions. About what? What could have possibly happened to make him come to the girls for help?
“Twilight?”
Twilight looked down to face her number-one assistant. “Yes, Spike?”
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Spike mumbled. “For all the time we’ve been here in Manehattan, things have only gone downhill. Do you think...that'll be solved now? With only a conversation?”
“We have to try,” Twilight asserted halfheartedly. Spike did have a point. Everything was too late. The army was here. The princesses were arriving tomorrow morning. Ironheart had taken Count Privilege captive and had done who knows what to him. What could possibly be resolved by now?
In the night sky, a glint of red caught her attention, and Twilight saw, far, far away, the soft red glow of exhaust engines and the minuscule wings above the surface of the bay. It circled above the water, then halted and shot up into the night sky faster than she thought she could follow. Before long, it had disappeared into the clouds, with Twilight following his movements by inclining her head. From there, she could not see where it would go.
“Girls,” Twilight said, snapping all of them out of their reverie. “He’s coming.”
The girls stood up a little straighter when they heard that. Fluttershy looked apprehensive at the news and took a step back. Twilight could hear the crunch of gravel as she did.
They just stood there. The yellow electric lights flickered uncomfortably.
And above them, a solitary figure dropped out of the cloudy night skies, with red painted on the ends of his feathers and feet and hands as the ignition died down and he fell to the shadows of the building, in between several chutes and square metal chimneys.
There he stayed, a blank silhouette standing upright, flanked and covered by shadows. His wings were in two wide arches on the side of his back, enfolding him in shadow. Nothing of him could be made out except the soft red loops that were his irises. He was motionless, and he was staring at the ground. The girls could hear the small, faint thump thump of his Infinisteel heart beating behind the claws of his rib cage.
“Ironheart,” Twilight whispered to him. “Step into the light.”
Ironheart was motionless.
Then he took a slow, reluctant step forward. The clawed foot was the first to enter the yellow light. It was jointed and pale grey and had a gentle curve to each toe. As the knee slowly bent, they could see his armored shin, and the plates of impenetrable steel next to the shin bone.
The next leg came forth. Even more of the leg could be seen, up to the mid-thigh. Metal plates of incredible size curved around his leg, and in between the gaps in his armor were smaller pieces of armor going the opposite way.
And with the next step, Twilight and the girls could see his entire heavily-built frame at last. His arms were behind his back, and his face looked passive as he looked downwards at the small rocks littering the top of the apartment building. His wings were spread to the side, displaying a truly impressive wingspan of twelve feet. Upright, he was tall and fearsome, but he was making no attempt to intimidate anyone. Quite to the contrary, he appeared to look unresponsive to much of anything. He didn’t acknowledge the girls in front of him. They could only hear the passive beating of his unstoppable heart. It was deep, and hard, and haunting.
“Ironheart,” Twilight began. “I don’t know why you’re here for us now, but there’s a lot of trouble now. Princess Cadence and Shining Armor are here in Manehattan, and Princess Celestia and Princess Luna are on their way here right now! You’re running out of time to do anything to redeem yourself!”
Ironheart said nothing. Instead, he withdrew one arm from behind his back and stared at his open palm. Twilight noticed in the faint yellow light that the arm was red.
“Did you hear me?” Twilight asked, drawing closer to his motionless form. “I said, there’s not a lot of time for you to do anything. What do you think will-”
“How can you love them?” Ironheart whispered, clenching his dark red fist.
Twilight was taken aback. “Excuse me?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even.
“How…” Ironheart repeated, and his voice was tremulous and thin, “...can you... just... SIT! BACK!” he roared suddenly, startling the girls, and he pointed a finger to the side furiously. He had looked up to stare the girls in the face at last. “AND WATCH THEM DOING TERRIBLE THINGS TO EACH OTHER, AND STILL LOVE THEM ENOUGH TO NOT WISH FOR THEIR DEATH?!”
Twilight took a moment before responding, “What I want to know is, how can you find in yourself the resolve to act more ruthless than the ponies you kill?”
“Because I hate them,” Ironheart growled between clenched teeth. “I hate them with all the fervent passion of my soul.” He looked like his face was drooping down. “Which brings me back to my original question, Twilight. How can you bear to live in the same world as people who transgress every good and natural law?”
“We aren’t here to justify your opinions, Ironheart!” Rainbow Dash cried. “We’re here to get you to come with us!”
“Why?” Ironheart asked without any amusement in his voice. “Because you care, I suppose, about my life. Because you would like nothing more than to have Princess Celestia say, 'Good job, Rainbow Dash. You’re learning the power of friendship.'”
“No, Ironheart!” Twilight asserted, waving a hoof in front of her face. “No, it’s not like that!”
“Then what is it?” Ironheart hissed. “That little charade on the steps of the city hall proved that you have to summon up your courage to fight me. Why did you not have the courage and resolve before? Why do you distance yourself from me, but you still don’t hurt me?”
Twilight looked up at Ironheart’s furious gaze. “Because we love you!”
Ironheart gave a small gasp of surprise and held a hand to his heart, looking down at the ground. It had been such a long time since he had heard that said to him. He had a glazed, unfeeling look in his eyes as he took deep breaths and gazed at the roof of the building beneath him. Then he set his face hard again, blinked, and looked back at Twilight. “Why?”
Twilight’s only response was a confused tilt of her head to the side.
“You don’t just love somepony for no reason,” Ironheart continued, scowling deeply in irritation. “Love is conditional. It always has been and it always will be. Unconditional love is a myth. So why love me?”
Ironheart ruffled his metal wings dangerously and clenched his fists. His voice got harder. “You said it yourself, Twilight! I am a fallen soul! You have no possible reason to love me!”
Twilight made a swallow in her throat and stepped forth timidly until she was directly in front of the machine. She had to incline her head at a tremendous angle to look him in the eyes. “We love you,” she said to him, “because you’re a fallen soul!”
Ironheart’s eyes got softer immediately, but his face looked confused.
There was a pause in the conversation.
“I’m just another one of the filth that I’ve been fighting,” Ironheart whispered, turning away from Twilight. The girls could now only see his back. “My worth is nothing in your eyes.”
“Don’t say that!” Fluttershy exclaimed passionately. “Don’t you dare ever day that.”
“I’m a fallen soul, Fluttershy. I’m with the filth that are worth nothing. With the people who...who hate and hurt those that aren’t them.”
“You’re not worth nothing,” Rarity protested, coming next to Twilight to save her from answering. “You’ve just made bad decisions.”
“Which makes your worth disintegrate!” Ironheart all but shouted at her, turning around furiously. “The choices you make determine your worth to other people! Some people are worth more than others! Some lives matter more than others, Rarity!”
“Was it Alpha Nevada and Count Privilege that put that mindset into you?” Rarity guessed, her voice vibrant and musical and peace-inducing.
Ironheart paused. Then he seemed to slump down a little in pain. “Yes,” he eventually whispered. “Yes, it was.”
Rarity looked thoughtful. Then she said, “Would you permit me to speak in an analogy to you, Ironheart?”
He nodded, not looking her in the face.
“Suppose that I had... let’s say, ten bits in a drawstring pouch,” Rarity began. “How much money do I have?”
“Ten bits,” Ironheart disinterestedly replied.
“And how much is each coin worth?”
“One bit each,” Ironheart said. He still didn’t look directly at her.
“Would the worth of the bit depend on what I spent it on? Or in what condition the bit is in?”
“No,” Ironheart said irritably. “No matter what you spend it on, or if the bit’s dirty and sticky from being at the bottom of the pouch, the worth of the coin itself is still worth…” He stopped speaking, and drew his head up to look at her at last. “One... bit.”
Rarity beamed. “Now, let’s say one of the bits escaped from the drawstring pouch. He just up and left the bag one day. What would you do in that situation?”
Ironheart didn’t answer. He already knew what it was that Rarity wanted him to say.
“I would search for the lost coin,” Rarity said after Ironheart had remained unresponsive. “I wouldn’t hate the lost coin because he lost his way. I wouldn’t want to hate the coin when I found out it was missing. As a matter of fact, I’d appreciate the coin even more once I found it. I would love it because it lost its way, and I found it once more.”
Ironheart pressed his lips firmly together in a frown and shifted his feet.
“I believe that everypony, criminals and victims alike, have a beautiful soul because they were born flawless at first,” Rarity continued fervently. “But as they go through life, the choices they make separate them from being perfect. We are all imperfect beings, Ironheart, but if we can work to bring everypony else closer to the light, we can improve the world more than taking the worst of the worst out of the mix.” Rarity reared on her hind legs so that she was the same height as Ironheart, and she caressed his arm. “That’s how I can stand to live in the same world as them. I try my hardest to show generosity, no matter what they could have done.”
“But I don’t have faith in friendship,” Ironheart lamented, jerking his arm away from Rarity’s caressing hoof. “I’m not certain that friendship will work for me.”
When Rarity had been caressing his arm reassuringly, Ironheart took passive notice that when she did the reassuring gesture, he couldn’t feel it. It was like all feeling to his arm had been cut off at that particular moment. It wasn’t that big of a deal to him at first, but when he saw Rarity withdraw her hoof, he suddenly noticed that she had been rubbing his arm. And he didn’t know why the feeling wasn’t there. He didn’t know why the reassurance didn’t work.
Applejack came forward then and tapped Rarity on the shoulder. “Rares? Is it all righ’ if Ah talk ta him now?”
Rarity obliged by stepping aside. The farm girl was now the one speaking directly to Ironheart, who was patiently waiting for her to speak.
“Now,” Applejack said to Ironheart. “Let’s compare friendship... to a seed.”
“A seed,” Rainbow Dash whispered to Pinkie Pie. “Another farm metaphor from Applejack?”
Applejack did not notice--or if she did, she made no comment. “Now, if ya give room fer a seed ta be planted in yer heart, it’ll accept the ground it’ll be planted in. When ya feel this... motion in yer heart, ya can’t help but say to yerself that this is a good seed. ‘Cause a bad seed don’t make ya feel good inside. A bad seed doesn’t make yer understandin’ grow bigger. It don't make yer soul feel better inside.
“When ya feel the seed of friendship in yer heart, it makes yer faith in friendship grow bigger--ya know that it’s a good seed. But ya don’t stop there. The seed hasn’t actually grown up yet. But, when it does, when the shoots start ta spring up and the leaves begin to extend, it’ll strengthen yer faith even more that what you’re feeling is a good seed.”
“Are you sure that it is a good seed?” Ironheart asked her. “Is friendship truly the answer for everything you try?”
“If a seed grows, it’s a good seed,” Applejack affirmed. “If it doesn’t, and yer ground was good and fertile and ready ta receive the seed, the seed is bad.”
“And what if friendship isn’t a good seed?” Ironheart quietly asked. “What if the plant shrivels and dies once you plant it?”
“The reason why friendship won’t survive ain’t because the seed ya planted was bad,” Applejack said to him. “The reason why friendship won’t survive is that the ground you planted it in was barren, cold, and selfish."
Ironheart fell silent.
“Ah know fer myself that friendship is a good seed,” Applejack testified. “Friendship is real because it’s light. And everything that’s light is good, because it’s discernible.”
Ironheart looked pensive and thoughtful at that. He started to whisper under his breath. “Everything that’s discernible...is good. If you can see it clearly...then it’s good…”
“But now that ya have the seed planted, do ya just let it stand there?” Applejack shook her head. “No, ya don’t. A plant without nourishment is dead. Every day, ya have ta nourish the light inside o’ ya. Otherwise, ya can’t pluck the fruit that comes from the seed."
Ironheart looked down into Applejack’s green eyes. “What is the fruit that comes from friendship?” he asked quietly.
Applejack gave a smile. “Joy.”
Ironheart made no movement except for the sound of his deep and heavy breathing.
Then his legs collapsed their upright supports and he fell to all fours. His long mane fell to both sides of his face as his segmented tail re-formed into a mane of artificial hair. His wings folded and snapped into his side. He was still tall, but this way, he was a pony, and not the bipedal monster he normally was. He was now at least a shadow of his former self.
“What is joy?” Ironheart croaked. “I can’t remember the last time anypony’s ever given it to me.”
Pinkie Pie came forward. “Joy is lasting happiness,” she explained. “See, happiness is like eating a cupcake. It’s sweet when you’re eating it, but it isn’t permanent, and it goes away in a while. Joy’s like having a cupcake in your mouth all the time. Can you imagine that? You’ve always got a sweet feeling in yourself. And I’ve felt that way ever since I made my firstest friend ever!”
Pinkie Pie rummaged in her mane for a little bit and drew out a slightly-squashed cupcake with pink frosting. “Here, Ironheart. I was saving this for later, but now that I know you aren’t out to destroy every last cake in the universe, you can have it.”
Ironheart took it in an upright hoof, looked down at it for only a little instant.
He looked at Pinkie Pie. She was staring at him with wide, hopeful blue eyes.
Then, to be fair to her, he took the whole thing into his mouth in one gulp. It had been so long since he had anything to eat, and he had a fully-functioning digestive system and taste buds. He could feel that it was in his mouth, and he could feel that there was a soft texture to it, but there was something off about it. He couldn’t actually taste the sugar.
It was disconcerting to know. His taste buds were fully functioning, he knew. He hadn’t cut off the crystal circuitry to the base of his flexible metal tongue. They were operable. They were working, all right.
So why was it that even the sweetest of promises could taste so disappointing to him?
He swallowed the tasteless treat with hopelessness in his complexion. If he tasted joy, he wouldn’t know. If he wanted to know, he never could.
Was this how it was going to be if he would accept? Would he truly feel joy?
“Come with us, Ironheart,” Fluttershy pleaded. She had found the courage to come forward enough for Ironheart to hear her. “We love you.”
Ironheart looked directly at her. “Are you certain?”
“Absolutely,” Fluttershy affirmed. “We want nothing except for you to become our friend.”
Who could say that Fluttershy could lie to him about their true intentions? But Ironheart couldn’t notice the love in her tone. He couldn’t discern the care she truly had for him. It was like the declaration was flat when it reached his ears. What was up with his senses not working the way they were supposed to? Was it a programming issue? He couldn’t remember a bug in the system. So was it his mind making it all up?
Was he really so desensitized to love? And if he was, how could he possibly go back with Twilight?
“Please,” Twilight whispered, reaching out with her hoof. “Come with us. You can start again.”
Ironheart pondered it. This, right here, was the place where he needed to choose, once and for all, his destiny. A life of rehabilitation and readjustment, or the chance to continue on his own path.
Or, in a different light, a life of joy and life or a life of darkness and vengeance.
Everything light is good. Everything light is discernible. Everything discernible is right.
The life of vengeance, or the life of friendship and sweetness.
But how could he turn away from his life now and start in a new direction? How could he ignore all of the death and pain he had caused? If he were to come to the light side now, he would be exposed to the pain he had given to everypony else, and he would be wracked with eternal torment and grief.
And yet he was already tormented and in grief. The promise of being accepted by ponies now seemed appealing to him more than ever.
Or simply living above their influence altogether. If you simply had more power than everypony else. What was the only power that really mattered, again?
How could he feel better about himself? He was killing as well. He was no better than the common rabble full of idolatry and slothfulness. But how could he change that?
Stop feeling sorry for yourself.
Yes, that was it. Stop feeling sorry for your actions. Stop feeling regret and pain when you caused harm to others. That way, it wouldn’t hurt you, and you could continue doing what you were doing. It was the only way for you to become what you were born to be.
You were born to be a weakling. But you changed that, didn’t you? You changed fate.
But what did you give up for it?
Goodness, joy, love. Light, beauty, hope. That's what you gave up.
They were so appealing to him. They were certainly what he needed.
But was it really what Ironheart wanted? What were his loves? His desires? What did he wish for, more than anything in the world?
He knew the answer to it as soon as the thought entered his mind.
Joy. Life. Redemption. Ironheart, this is it. Do it, and accept your fate at last.
And finally, Ironheart made up his mind.
The girls watching saw Ironheart slowly, slowly, slowly reach his hoof forward to almost connect to Twilight’s hoof. When Twilight saw this, her eyes lit up.
Ironheart gave a very small, timid smile.
He closed his eyes in resolve.
His hoof connected with hers.
And he turned it away to the side, and he bowed his head in shame. The hopeful light in Twilight’s eyes died.
“I’m sorry,” Ironheart whispered between clenched teeth and closed eyes. “I am so, so sorry, Twilight. But I can’t.”
“What?” Rainbow Dash breathed. “Wh-why?”
“Because I don’t want friendship,” he said with his eyes closed and his voice heavy.
“What do you want, then?” Rainbow Dash demanded indignantly. They were so close!
Ironheart remembered the question of Dr. Brainstem when he had visited him in his office. What do you want out of the world?
He knew what it was he wanted at last. What he truly desired above all else.
“I want to watch the wicked burn,” he whispered, clenching his hoof in front of his face.
“Has anything we’ve said made an effect on you?” Twilight pleaded.
“I will not bow to yet another form of power,” Ironheart said quietly. “I will not lower myself to make you happy. I will fight until the last breath, until the bitter, cold end.”
“You’re wrong!” Fluttershy cried. “You don’t have to choose this! You can always be redeemed!”
“It’s too late for me to be accepted back into society,” Ironheart said to them in utter dejection. “Let me tell you what’ll happen if I come back with you. Celestia will order me under arrest. I will be carted back to Canterlot in shame. The public will demand my execution, after the inevitable trial for my crimes is put underway and I am found guilty by the biased and single-minded jury. But after they discover that I cannot die, I will be sent to spend eternity in the dimension of Tartarus, just like Lord Tirek did. That will arouse in me, even more, feelings of vengeance and pain and fury. And then I am back where I started, only even more hopeless than before.”
“But...but after everything we’ve said to you! After everything we’ve proved! You’re still going to stay where you are?”
“I’m too far on the wrong path, Rainbow Dash,” Ironheart whispered to her. “I will never truly be a friend of yours. It would take more effort to go back to your path than it would take for me to succeed in my own path.”
“So are you going to refuse accepting the truth because it’s too hard for you?” Rainbow Dash asked incredulously. “You’re a lot of things, Ironheart, but you’re not a coward.”
“DON’T--” Ironheart roared at her suddenly, and his face was like that of a feral, dangerous animal, “--YOU DARE CALL ME A COWARD!” His hooves were cracking the roof of the apartment. The abrupt and sudden change in Ironheart’s countenance was terrifying. “When you feel everything I’ve had to feel--the weight of every hurtful word and every mocking name--every jolt of pain and every pang of heartbreak--and when you’ve had every last bit of hope flee from you because of the hate and rejection from every single pony in your life--then, after all of that, do you have permission to call me a coward!”
Ironheart rose back up on his hind legs with a series of clinks, folded his arms behind his back, and turned away from her. “For years and years, all I have ever heard to me is that I’m a pathetic weakling that can’t handle what the world has to throw at me. And now, I finally have proved them wrong. And you expect me, because of your reasoning in one night, to reject everything I’ve felt in the cause of pacifism.”
“No!” Pinkie Pie cried. She threw herself at his feet. “But what about the cupcake? What about the joy you felt while eating it?”
“I couldn’t taste the sweetness,” he said to her without looking down. “It was flat and grey to me.”
Pinkie Pie shuffled back to her own spot, looking down at the ground. She sniffled and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.
Ironheart turned and faced the girls again. “For the first time in my life, things are finally going the way I want them to. I am free from the command of any force of nature on the face of the planet. My nemesis is dead at my hand, I have undertaken the task of purging the earth of those that act like terrible people, and the Manehattan Project is finished at last. I won’t let Celestia gain the victory over me now.”
“Celestia has an army!” Twilight pointed out, feeling a void open in the bottom of her stomach.
Ironheart took something off of his hip, tossed it in the air, and caught the sword hilt. “I have this,” he responded. “Your point?”
Twilight was silent, and she stared at the ground.
“For the first time I can remember, I have complete and total control over myself and the lives of those people I hate. If you do not, you will always live beneath the influence of somepony who does.” Ironheart’s teeth were gritted and his eyes were closed. “And nothing, and no one, will ever save you.”
“I want to save you,” Twilight said to him, her own voice close to breaking. “I want to help you.”
“It is too late for that now,” Ironheart said to her lowly, opening his eyes. “I will finally be the one to save myself.” He looked over the side of the building at the fleeing lights of streaming refugees. “It’s good that you’re telling them to get out. Tomorrow, no matter who is in Manehattan, I will detonate the project. I do not care now who it is that impedes my progress.” He took a few more steps to the side, his talons expanding with each footfall. “Friend, or foe. Male, or female. Old or young. Princess or commoner. If any one of you shall impede my journey to my rightful place as the punisher of the wicked... the birds shall pick at your mutilated carcass. Pray that you find your way out of Manehattan now, Twilight. For you were truly my greatest foe yet.”
He then walked to the edge of the building without looking at Twilight and extended his wings with a loud metallic chatter.
“I pity you,” Twilight whispered from behind him.
Ironheart paused, just for a moment. He was still and silent. Then he ignited the engines in his wings and blasted off into the lonesome sky.
The girls watched his progress until he was only a speck in the darkness. And in the pits of each of their stomachs, failure and guilt twisted in them until they felt themselves spiral into the depths of grief and despair. Ironheart truly was a lost soul.
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nuke it!
God damn man, right in the feels... I am literally crying right now.
Looks like they're going to have to agree on a "no Tartarus" plea bargain first.
Wow... he chooses his version of freedom over friendship.
😲 This is so good!!! The characters are so well thought out! I love that
Wrong-o! There is the biggest lie in all of history. People are NOT born perfect. People are born flawed, evil, and wicked. It is only through hard work against out imperfect natures that we can become something different. If you don't believe me, observe a child from birth to 10 years old. They have to be TAUGHT what is good and right, it is NOT intrinsic to our natures. Without that teaching, there is no possibility of any person being anything other than a psociopathic raping, thieving, murdering monster.
9224301
This is where I disagree. Nobody is born into the world evil. Hitler wasn't born a psychopath, wanting to kill every Jew he came across; he had to have been shaped that way through his circumstances. Children are born innocent; they don't know the difference between right and wrong, and as you said, they had to have been taught a certain way.
What?
Ironheart has a point. I wanted him to accept their friendship and turned himself in. But he has a point. He would be put to trail, his crimes will be known and be shunned by the public, and then be sent to Tartarus for all his days. Then vengeance and hatred would brew once again.