3:5- Convergence
“This ain’t good,” he heard a voice said.
“Damn… How far did he fall?” asked another.
“Two kilometers, easy.”
“Stay sharp!” barked a third.
He felt a presence kneel by his right side, a face staring into his own...
“His armor’s locked up,” stated a fourth, “Gel layer could’ve taken most of the impact.”
His arms fell to his sides as his muscles released from some strange force...
“I-I don’t know, Sergeant Major…” the same voice continued.
He could feel a tug at the back of his head. It felt like he was wearing a helmet and heavy armor... it didn’t feel like him...
A long pause ensued, followed by the third voice again.
“Radio for V-TOL. Heavy lift gear. We’re not leaving him here.”
***************
///...systems off-line...///
///...status report...///
...damage to internal organs and internal bleeding discovered...
...mandible and right shoulder dislocated; right clavicle and right humerus broken; five ribs cracked, three broken; multiple carpal and metacarpal bones shattered...
...blood flow at 25% normal capacity and dropping...
...neural activity at 18% normal capacity and dropping...
///...attempt reboot...///
[ACCESS DENIED]
(please enter proper .exe and passcode to perform manual reboot in accordance with Canon 117-142)
///...access: PROJECT_LAZARUS.exe, passcode: 01000111, 01000001, 01001101, 01001101, 01000001, 00110111...///
...processing...
encoding...01000011011001010110110001100101011100110111010001101001011000010010000001101100011011110111011001100101011100110010000001110100011010000110010100100000010001000110100101100100011000010110001101110100...accepted...
encoding...01010111011001010110110001100011011011110110110101100101001000000111010001101111001000000111010001101000011001010010000001101101011000010110001101101000011010010110111001100101...accepted...
...sufficient clearance [ACCESS GRANTED]
///Good morning Samuel... its time to wake up.///
***************
“No... you’re not...”
The Didact awoke with a start and immediately began to cough up blood. The cherry-black liquid was a bitter poison in his mouth as he tried with all his power to get it out. With the petroleum fluid expelled, he slowly gathered the strength to stand up. His body was stiff and refused to move the way he wanted to, greatly restricted by the suit of armor that encased him. It was that suit of armor that had saved his life; were it not for the gel absorber inside of it, he would have died from a fall of that height. Even with the armor, he didn’t escape unharmed. He could feel the machinery and the nanotech working inside of him to fix the damage. The buzzing heated him up and made it even more difficult to move. Slowly, he unlocked the gel layers and let the nanotech do its thing. It was the least he could do for all the times that tech saved his life.
The Didact took the time to look at his current surroundings. From the ground, the ruins of the ancient alicorn city were more dynamic than the homogenous sight of ash from the air. Here, vines grew on the degrading stone walls, which stood weakly at two stories; birds fluttered quietly among the ruins in the distance; a hungry cat ran across in front of him, chasing a mouse. The Astral Desolation was still very much alive, just in a different way than when the alicorns were here; the Didact has seen this happen before, with many empires throughout history.
As the fire running through his veins died down and the armor ceased to constrict his muscles, the Didact began to walk. He had the direction of the Leviathan entrance memorized, with help from the afternoon sun, and began his trek towards the machine. He decided to go parkour style, and to not entertain the running mazes of degraded streets and crumbled buildings. The Didact gripped at a particular crevasse in the stone, and pulled himself up, beginning his climb to the window hole, left by the millenia of degradation. Lucky for him, the stone walls were thick and relatively sturdy this close to the ground. Reaching a window with little effort, he propped himself up and looked out at the world below him. The crumbling walls and thin streets turned the charred land into a massive labyrinth. The sky was clear for miles, except for the perpetual clouds of the Astral Mountains on the horizon. Above, the hulking lengths of the two Inferi warships blotted out the sun, casting their long shadows across the dark landscape. In the distance, he could see the plume of smoke made from the crash of the shuttle; a bit past it, there was a clearing in the stones and plant life, the Leviathan.
As it was on the way, the Didact decided that he should check in on the shuttle to see whether Twyla could be there, passed out and in need of help. He doubted it, but at least it was directly on the way, so there was no harm in at least checking. He flung his legs over to one side and pushed off from the wall, launching himself at the next stone structure standing. His accuracy was impeccable, and he was now gripping the top, his legs already prepared to step up and lead to the next jump. He climbed, jumped, climbed, rolled; he moved with grace and skill, the world set out before him as equations to solve and physics to break.
With some effort, he managed to cross the large expanse within the hour. As the sun rested above the horizon, crawling its way downward in a sky of blue and orange, he pulled himself up to the top of his current stone wall and looked down at the torn apart clearing in front of him. The shuttle itself laid askew a bit off to his right, the large crater having carved through several streets, stone walls, even the occasional low lying tree, which were spread out far and few. Carefully, he jumped from the wall and rolled onto the ground. Coming out of the roll, he readied his holstered boltshot- a plasma weapon commonly used as a pistol through human space- and proceeded cautiously closer to the crashed shuttle.
The insides of the craft were ripped apart and long abandoned. As he stepped inside, glass would crunch under his boots and the emergency lights flickered dimly. It became clear that Twyla wasn’t here, and that most of the people on board managed to survive, though the pilot and two others were not so lucky. With nothing else keeping him there, and with the threat of five clerics somewhere he did not know gnawing at the back of his mind, he exited the shuttle.
A cough tore him from his focus and he jumped away from the shuttle, boltshot drawn and widely alert. Something moved in the shuttle, enough so that he grew on edge. With the plasma of his weapon glowing a brilliant blue, he cautiously stepped closer to the shuttle. There was another cough and something moved again, followed by the familiar click of a seatbelt releasing. Weapon still raised, he stepped up to the form. It was a cleric, his body covered in the ooze of its orangish blood. He stirred at the sight of the Didact in front of him, but could only weakly protest against him.
“You...”
The Didact crouched down to meet the cleric’s dull gaze. He understood that he wouldn’t be alive for much longer. “Your mistress, Apologia, what did she do with Twilight?”
“The same thing she will do with all of your putrid race... Convergence is at hand; all... believe, shall... be saved.”
The cleric slumped down pathetically, his chest struggling to heave in shallow breaths. The Didact chose to leave him to his fate, walking out into the oranging sunlight. He stared up into the sky, facing where the Leviathan was suppose to be, then glanced up at the ships floating lazily above him. The Ioseph Kaleir had moved a bit away from the larger Abinadi Ckes, Celestia apparently giving herself an air cushion between her and the more menacing, deadlier warship. He began to step forward, continuing on his trek.
The distance between the entrance and the crashed shuttle was miniscule compared to the hour long travel he had just made. Like most of the Precursor and Forerunner structures he had seen, the facade of low lying, vine covered machinery hid the true size and ability of the Leviathan, sprawling out possibly for miles below. The door had shaken free its vines and foliage, freshly opened. The Didact stepped closer, the soft squish of moss and grasses underneath his feet was quickly replaced with the cold clunking of solid metal.
“It’s about time you showed up...”
The Didact wheeled around, gun primed, and pointed it at the voice. Celestia instantly threw her hands up. “Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot!”
She slowly stepped out from behind her chosen foliage cover, followed soon after by her father. The Didact lowered his weapon. “That was an unwise move...”
Inside, the Didact commended Dr. Aurel for delivering his message in time. “We don’t have time to talk about it; we need to get inside and stop them from activating the Leviathan.”
The Didact nodded. Celestia was right; the Leviathan needed to be their main priority. “Let’s go.”
The three of them stepped through the door and it closed behind them silently. Celestia gasped at the beauty of the machinery. It wasn’t clunky or cantankerous, but elegant and polished. Even after millenia of abandonment, the silver shone in the dull glow of the ambient, pulsing lights that ran the walls, ceiling and floor. As they walked, some of the mechanism would move, float out and shift to a new place, as if preparing for their arrival to a closed door ahead of them. They approached closer, and the door silently unlatched itself, the mechanism shifting about, and opened.
They stepped through, the door closing behind them, and were faced with a massive chasm in front of them. The floor ended abruptly in a sharp cut, creating a large expanse of empty space between them and the door on the other side.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Celestia frowned, “What would be the point of making the only hallway into the machine and lead it to a point where it cannot continue?”
Event Horizon simply huffed. “You still have some more to learn, daughter.”
The king stepped around the Didact, careful not to accidently step off the platform, and walked towards a walkway next to the wall. Off near the corner, a flicker of light caught the eyes of the Didact and the Celestia. Event Horizon stepped in front of it and, placing his palm on the console, activated it. “It’s necessary that I remember how to access the machine... in case someone decided to try and find it.”
The air between the two platforms began to hum with energy, before igniting into a blue light that spanned the entire chasm. The Didact hesitantly put his foot out towards the light, and found his entire weight being supported by it.
“A working hard-light bridge... after all this time?”
“I found the technology crafted here incredibly resilient to wear,” Event Horizon said, making his way back. “I have a feeling this will even work long after my lifetime...”
The Didact nodded, holding back his scientific excitement. “Fascinating... I knew the Precursors were great architects, but not like this...” The Didact continued to walk forward, the hard-light bridge still unyielding to his weight. Shortly afterwards, Celestia followed, then her father behind her. As they cleared the room, and the bridge evaporated behind them, the Didact’s excitement towards the Precursor technology dimmed compared to the growing acceptance to the importance of the situation. His generalship-side was beginning to regain control of his actions and thoughts. Eventually, only one real question remained in his head.
His voice was steady and low. “Can you tell me how you locked away the Marker’s power?”
Event Horizon raised his head at the question. After long seconds, he sighed. “It really starts with my family and I leaving Alicornia after the Reign of the Nightmare. Vulcan and Luna were newborns by alicorn standards, but to the Equestrians we met... they were already near full maturity to them. After the long travel northeast, it certainly was a blessing to meet others. To them, we were beings they had only heard of in ancient legends and they treated us as if we were gods and goddesses. It was then that we met their Mad Tyrant. When Ms. Sparkle and her friends found him, he was only just breaking free from his imprisonment- only able to tap the shallow depths of his potential. Back then, Discord was chaotic to the point of destructiveness, irreverence and to where he held a complete disregard to life.”
“Sounds like a mad tyrant indeed...”
“What made it worse was that he was completely sane in the process, “Celestia added to her father’s point. “We were able to meet him before we fought against him in the War of Madness; he was... polite, quick-witted, and outspoken but very well mannered and respectful to a degree. Were he a pony, he would have been a master in debate. He excelled in manipulating others through twisted logic, pushing the correct emotional buttons and even lying. He had one goal: destroy the world in chaos. Nothing would ever change him from that ideal. To fulfill his dreams, he planned, meticulously and expertly. To an average being, which at the time included even us, they seemed disjoined and without sense or purpose, but they always came together in the end...”
The Didact understood what she meant. “Even in the deepest realms of entropy, order still exists.”
“Indeed,” Event Horizon nodded, “but what made it worse was that it was all a game to him. In this game, the goal was always pure chaos. It went beyond mischief and pranks; it was pure, methodical annihilation. The stories you’ve no doubt heard from Ms. Sparkle about what happened to Ponyville in his brief freedom; they would be far worse should he have been free any longer...”
“Sounds like my kind of guy...”
Celestia felt a twinge of anger at such a remark. “Anyways, after meeting him we had decided that he reminded us too much of the chaos that consumed our home, so we took the chance to fight against him. It soon became clear that even with all of us together, it would be perhaps the greatest challenge we’ve ever undertaken.”
“Even with the power of eight alicorns on their side, three of which being myself, my brother Umbra and my wife; fully matured.” Event Horizon recollected the troubling times that resulted in the War of Madness. “Luckily, Celestia and Luna had stumbled upon an artifact of immense power that helped in our plight to stop him...”
“The Tree of Harmony.” Celestia smiled with pride. “With it’s power, we managed to forge the Elements of Harmony and quickly thereof defeated Discord. But it became more than that as well. With the Elements of Harmony created, we also found a way to stop the spread of madness at home as well; a way to stop the Marker.”
“By the time we got back to Alicornia, however, it had become too late. When we left, the descent of madness had begun to fabricate riots, aggression, murdering and suicides into commonplace. When we returned- Celestia, Luna and I- the entire civilization had already destroyed itself. We could still, however, stop the madness from spreading. Using the magic of the six Elements of Harmony, which at the time were celestially attached to myself and my five children, I created a magical barrier that blocked it’s energy from escaping to the outside. The energy feeds back to the Elements themselves, adding to their power and ability, making them stronger than originally possibly by the Tree alone. This process is what creates the field of harmony known as the Tempest.”
“What will happen when the keys unlocked the barrier?”
“The energy the Marker radiates off isn’t dispelled by the barrier if that’s what you’re asking, merely reflected back. When the barrier goes, the energy of the Marker, contained for a millennium, will explode out, the Tempest will collapse, and the world might be plunged into madness.”
“Then we don’t have time to lose.” The Didact primed his weapon and kept his quick pace, now preparing for any confrontation. They were getting close to what was titled the Cartographer Room, which, according to inferences from previously known Precursor/Forerunner architectural information, would contain the Marker. The motions of the mechanism became more common, and more areas of the walls moved as they approached. It was as if they were coming to the throne to a mighty king, where their fates would be decided by a single swing of a scepter. It wasn’t too far from the truth, the Didact thought.
Only the final door stood in their way. For a couple seconds, they simply stood and stared at it. It was the Didact who spoke first out of them. “They are already inside and waiting for us.”
Event Horizon flexed his shoulders, adjusting his vest and shirt. “I suppose this is it; win or lose, the fate of the world will be decided in the coming minutes...”
Celestia simply stated the obvious feeling. “It feels... too simple; anticlimactic almost.”
“Things like that are unnecessary.” The Didact walked forward and the door automatically opened to his presence. It opened up to a large room. The floor they stood on was suspended from the bottom and extended out into the chamber, before splitting off into a large circle that encompassed the Marker. It was massive; several stories of rock and metal. It was an earthy black, the two spirals twisting out from the thick base into two spikes at the top.
In front of it stood the Prophetess of Apologia, Twyla held in front of her with a gun drawn to her head. Several other clerics stood around the several consoles, particularly the large one in the center, and moved slowly, several limping. The Prophetess herself didn’t escape unharmed either. Even at his distance, the Didact could see a trickle of the bright orange blood running down across her eye. She stood, preferring her left leg over her right, meaning it was either sprained or even broken somewhere. Her look was overall grim...
...So the Didact decided to make a joke. “Dr. Livingstone I presume!”
The Prophetess let herself chuckle. “So... you’ve become the Didact that the universe so greatly fears; it’s been years since our previous encounter, Mr. Altman.”
“I’m a lot stronger, and a lot smarter than when I foolishly challenged you to a Bellum Magia all those years ago.” The Didact instantly got serious again, his weapon primed. “You know I won’t let you succeed here Prophetess.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” she calmly retorted, “The Marker will bring about a new age and will mark the beginning of a great journey to Convergence. And I wouldn’t keep stepping closer, because I will kill her.” The Prophetess brought her gun closer to Twyla’s cheek, prompting a whimper. The Didact stopped.
“Are you okay Twyla?”
“I could be better,” the librarian said sarcastically. “Didact, I’m scared...”
“Everything will be okay.”
The Prophetess of Apologia scoffed at their banter. “It’s too late Didact.” As if to prove her point, her servants held the six keys, each hovering near their slot. “Give up.”
The Didact frowned. “I was about to say the same to you.” He glanced at Twyla, careful to make sure she noticed. His eyes spoke the only words he needed to tell her. Do you trust me?
She had hardly nodded before the Didact had bolted forward, magic accelerating him to breathtaking speeds. Before she could react, all of the servants were dead, throats slashed, and the Prophetess of Apologia was thrown to the floor, away from Twyla, her wrists broken in the process. The gun that was at Twyla’s head was now held in the Didact’s hand, ready for use. The Prophetess tried to scramble upright, wincing in the pain from her wrists and other injuries. “You insolent little-”
“Don’t give me your pompous higher attitude to me Prophetess.” The Didact’s voice was cold and harsh. He let his sword materialize in his hand, raising it high above her form. “You’re not as good at it as Truth is. In reality, I can see you’re afraid- very afraid- of the man standing in front of you right now. Nothing you say can hide that from me.”
The Prophetess paused on the ground, trying to think of something to say, something to come back at him with. She couldn’t think of anything. The Didact towered before her, a titan of magic and warfare. She remembered all those years ago when he was only a child, foolishly challenging her, an Unitologist bishop, to a duel. She remembered how quickly she was able to put that imprudent boy into his place, to scar his mind with nightmares and suffering. Now the tables were reversed; now she was only a tiny girl in the shadow of the great Didact, Lord of Admirals and Master of Generals.
...and she was very afraid.
All the while, both Twyla and Celestia stood away and looked at the Didact and the Prophetess. If the Prophetess’s eyes were anything to go by, the Didact was surely a monster of great power. Celestia could see her trying to hide the fear welling inside of her as she cowered, in agony and pain, under his menacing form. When she looked at the Didact, she saw a cold passion and rage that comes with years of death and destruction. He was driven, filled with the rage to complete his task- to save the world- but it was clear that he was willing to do anything to make sure it was accomplished, even eliminate those in his way.
Twyla saw everything Zero told her; a soldier who lost everything. The Didact became a man who had nothing left to lose, who had suffered too much, and simply lost the willingness to truly care. She feared for anyone who stood in his way, for the Prophetess, and for the Didact. She feared the Didact might go too far and be unable to come back...
Celestia found courage. She felt the ability to stand up, strongly, and help him. “Didact...”
“What!”
Even with his tone, Celestia was able to remain calm. “Didact, if you kill her now, you won’t be able to live with yourself.”
There was something inside of him that responded to her, but was struggling against his cold anger. “One death is a tragedy, Celestia; a million is a statistic. What is a billion deaths, or a trillion? I have seen worlds burn into nothing more but glass. I have seen people tortured, wishing for the ease of death... What is one more...” He prepared to plunge his sword down.
“Listen to yourself!” The Didact froze as Celestia shouted at him. Tears rolled from her eyes as she screamed at him. “Can you not hear yourself talk, Didact?! The Didact I know is kindhearted, and daring. He is loyal and honest, generous and filled with laughter. When he is faced with a problem, he will always try to find the solution that helps everybody. Sure, he has a obscured and pained past, and sometimes his anger will consume him, but he’d always come back and help! Most importantly, he would never kill out of cold blood! How dare you still call yourself the Didact while walking down the road you travel now!”
The voice inside of him grew as it pried away the cold anger embracing him. The Didact stumbled back a step, dropping his sword and letting it evaporate at the floor. His voice remained steady and deep. “You’re right; not like this.”
The Prophetess only let herself smile. “Even with all of your power, you’re still too afraid to use it...”
The Didact turned back to face the Prophetess. His face no longer carried the blood-lust and icy rage from before, but he was still no less stern. “You are still not excused for your actions and your crimes. Krishya Jamela, Prophetess of Apologia, you are hereby charged for the illegal military involvement of a Class 4 planet by a galactic entity, pursuant Article 2, Section 12 of the Construct of Trantor, and for the attempted genocide via use of a superweapon, pursuant Article 3, Section 8. Do I need to tell you your rights, Prophetess?”
“No, Lord Didact, you don’t... because in twelve seconds it matters little either way.” She threw out her hand in front of her, refusing to acknowledge the pain to muster all the magic she could. The keys, left discarded on the ground next to the dead servants, were levitated and thrusted into their sockets. “Kur be praised...”
The machine reacted instantaneously. Lights began to glow and the keys turned within their locks, air hissing from the console. The air around the Marker seemed to solidify, the magic around it gaining form in a milky white. The field rippled with energy, and currents of clouds manifested around the Marker, creating a giant swirl up its length of glowing energy.
Crrrraaaaaacccckk!
The magical barrier spiderwebbed with cracks, growing in size and covering the entire field. Soon, chunks began to fall down, gravity taking hold. Some would evaporate, while others would hit the ground with a ear-piercing shatter before turning into a milky mist that slowly dissipated. The console went haywire, while the energy around the Marker continued to build. Eventually it became too much to hold...
Everyone was thrown back as the large, horn-like sound, pierced lowly in the air with great force. The Prophetess threw her arms towards the Marker and began to spurt praises and prayers towards it. “Convergence is at hand! Salvation for all!”
The force that had thrown them all back, away from the Marker began to reverse, pulling them in towards a certain death. The corpses of the servants were flung into the air, straight into the vortex of the spiraling pillars, while the Prophetess put up no fight as she too was sucked up. Twyla crashed into the console, her breath knocked violently out of her. Using as much energy as she could, she flung her arms out and managed to catch Event Horizon, pulling him into the safety of the console protecting them.
The Didact and Celestia were pulled in as well, both desperately grasping at the floor to try and stop them. Both missed the console, and the Didact was flung against the railing, pushing him further into the deadly winds of the Marker. His arm shot out and caught the rail, swinging him around before the vortex began to pull him straight. Celestia, just behind him, missed the rail completely, nothing stopping her from flying directly into the Marker. She managed to find the grip of the Didact’s free hand.
They flew there for long seconds, the pull of the Marker’s vortex growing stronger each moment. The chamber buckled under the force of the magic, building up stronger and stronger.
VVVVVVVVRRRRRRRRR!
The energy exploded out once again, jolting the Didact and Celestia from their rail back onto the floor before they were grasping at the metal once more. The pull of the vortex doubled, the chamber walls now breaking apart and falling victim to the Marker’s deadly grip.
Celestia tried to power her voice over the roaring windstorm. “The Leviathan is being torn apart!”
The Didact struggled as well. “The Prophetess had triggered a Convergence event! The entire planet will be torn apart if we don’t stop it!”
Twyla shouted from her place behind the console. “Can we activate the barrier again?”
“No,” the king yelled, “the power of the Marker is too great for even the combined power of all of us!”
“Then we need to do something else,” the Didact stated absently, “before all is lost!”
VVVVVVVVRRRRRRRRR!
They were thrown out again, and once more pulled back in. By now, the entire superstructure, previously below the surface, had been exposed to its first rays of sunlight in millennia. The clouds of the Astra Mountains were siphoned from their perpetual haze and swirled above the Marker in a storm of brutal winds. The two mighty warships, pride of the Inferi Interstellar Fleet, were finally meeting their match. Lights flickered like candles, and the engines sputtered with mighty death throes, unable to match the powerful vortex sucking them in. The Didact glanced above at the Ioseph Kaleir, the faint blast of an escape pod, followed by over two dozen more, bursting away from the Marker towards relative safety.
Celestia struggled to hold her grip on the rail and the Didact before the metal buckled and tore from its base. The two of them were sent flying, Celestia bracing for a coming impact. She found herself embraced, the Didact using his magic to keep them flying against the pull of the Marker. He managed to overcome the pull long enough to move close to the console, where Celestia managed to take hold of her father's hand and was pulled to protecting from the wind.
“Thank you.” The Didact let go and was pulled away from them.
“Didact!” The only thing keeping Celestia from lunging out into the open to get him was her father and Twyla, holding her back.
The Didact stabilized himself, simply floating in the winds of the Marker. “Thank you,” he repeated to himself, “Thank you for everything...”
Tears rolled down Celestia’s cheeks. “Samuel...”
“We will meet again... in this life or the next...” He propelled himself further away and moved with the winds.
The floor began to buckle and crack underneath the immense pressure of the Marker’s magic. Chunks ripped apart, becoming a piece of the massive storm. The console protecting them, previously seeming to be immovable and absolute, began to tear apart.
“We’re running out of time here...”
Almost soundlessly, a large flash of white light erupted on the other side. It was an extremely bright light, seeming to dwarf the sun in luminosity. Twyla shielded her eyes, “What in Tartarus is going on here?”
The light exploded out again, this time closer to where they were. It wasn’t the Marker causing it, but something else.
“Didact...”
His form pushed out from the far side, using the inertia of his magic and the Marker’s to make an orbit around it. His hands were splayed out in front of him, facing the Marker, the aura of deep, vivid blue glowing strongly around his body.
“He’s trying to stop it...”
Event Horizon looked himself, following his path through the air. “He’s trying all by himself...”
His body exploded with the white light again. This time, it lingered, as if it was tangible, wisps being absorbed by Marker’s own vortex. With each explosion of light, more and more lingered as wisps of air. Eventually, there became so much that the only thing the Marker was absorbing was the light itself. The light began to completely cover the stone, perpetually hazing it from view.
“What is he doing?”
The Marker was completely covered in solid white clouds, only the occasional explosion of orange from beneath it indicating something beneath. The Didact himself orbited just above, the light emanating from his gradually diminishing.
Suddenly, he stopped, mid-orbit. With a powerful roar, he swung his arms down and finished his spell. “Paradox Breaker!”
The white clouds cascaded inward, the Marker underneath seemingly disappearing into nonexistence. The energy sucking inward increased violently, the console finally ripped from its place. Expecting the worse, the three of them who covered behind their shelter found themselves unaffected by the force. The clouds continued to rush inward until they all disappeared, before, finally, they exploded outward in a magnificent blast.
The Didact, whose whole body was aglow with magic through the whole thing, disappeared behind the powerful, nearly blinding light. With its mission completed, the light began to fade away, slowly returning to normal. The clouds that had swirled around the Marker had disappeared, along with the two warships that had fallen in.
Celestia shakily stood on her feet, looking up at the void of sky and metal that was once dominated by the Marker. Only the view of the faraway mountains was visible.
There was no more Marker... no more threat... no more Didact. The tears in her eyes would not stop, her body slumping back down to the floor in great sobs. Both Twyla and her father crouched next to her, but she paid no attention to them. She quietly looked up at the mountains with tear filled eyes. They were clear and crisp; not a single cloud covering them, as if a testament to the millennia-old sin that had simply vanished in front of their eyes...
...And it was all thanks to him: the Stranger from the Mines, the Didact. She had wanted to say something to him, but it was deep in the back of her mind, covered in the fear, adventure, pain, death and sorrow of the past two weeks. Now, as the sun set and the sky turned dark orange, she found the words she was looking for...
...there was only three of them...
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