PONY Legacy

by RBDash47

13 Shutdown

Luna spun as the cylindrical device behind her whined with a sudden surge of power, the smooth jewel shining brilliant blue. She leaped out of the way. A beam of light erupted from it, blinding her, and before her sight returned she heard Twilight screaming, then her sister’s voice.

“Rainbow! Nooooo!”

“Twilight… I’m so sorry…”

Luna blinked furiously and the chamber swam back into view, the afterimage of the light blast still seared across her vision. Celestia and Twilight were in the space before the console, Celestia attempting to hold Twilight back, Twilight struggling desperately to escape her grasp, straining for the display.

Luna was speechless. Her sister was back.

The younger alicorn had dreamed of this moment for years, had imagined all the possible forms a reunion could take. In her wildest flights of fancy, she had never imagined a reunion dominated by her sister and Twilight Sparkle… brawling.

“Twilight, please, it had to be done, I promised her—”

“No it didn’t!”

A low tone sounded and an indicator on the display changed, from green to red; Dash’s name flashed and faded. Twilight saw and shrieked and bucked, catching Princess Celestia in the face. The Princess of the Sun gasped in pain, startled, and released the unicorn to stumble backward, cradling her muzzle.

“Sister!” Luna cried, her wings snapping out and a shock of rage boiling through her. Before she could make a move Twilight was at the console, slamming a forehoof on a control hard enough to dent it. The display scrambled, then reformed.

Luna galloped to Celestia, supporting her sister as she righted herself. The Princess of the Night’s hot rage evaporated and condensed into icy fury at the sight of a bruise rising on Celestia’s delicate white cheek under fresh tears, the hurt and confusion in Celestia’s great magenta eyes.

She glared at the insolent mortal who’d betrayed her, who’d ruined her reunion with her long-lost sister. “Twilight Sparkle.” Her voice resonated; the wall sconces flickered. She ignored the frost forming beneath her hooves, focused entirely on the unicorn she’d trusted for all these years.

Twilight spun, glaring back at them defiantly.

Luna’s voice was as frigid as the space between the stars. “Look what you have done.”

Twilight pointed at the display, her chest heaving, her face a mixture of triumph and pain. “I saved Rainbow’s life. That’s what I’ve done!”

“You have to promise to get her out of here, no matter what.”

“We will all return to Equestria.”

“But if we can’t, if something happens, you leave me behind. Both of you are more important and you know it.”

“All of my little ponies are important. You are no exception.”

“She’s the exception. She’s exceptional. You’re not going to win this argument, Celestia. Promise me.”

“I… Very well. I will do what must be done.”

Dash hit the ground and groaned in pain, pinned down by RBD. The dark mare’s malevolent grin widened at the sound, replaced by confusion when her back arched. Dash screamed in outright agony, her limbs seizing and her heart spasming, rivers of fire coursing through her veins.

As her vision dimmed, blackness creeping in around the edges, she managed to twist her neck to peer towards the Gateway. It was empty. Celestia and Twilight were gone. They’re out! They’re safe, she thought to herself in the vestige of consciousness that hadn’t yet been overcome by excruciating torment.

Relief pushed back the pain for a moment. Puzzlement was there, too; an overwhelming sense of déjà vu cradling a distinct memory of Celestia giving in and using the Portal to transport herself and Twilight out of the System. But Dash hadn’t… seen Celestia give in yet? Pain washed over her again, wiping the thoughts from her mind. She struggled to focus on something else. Celestia’s gone…

The life support spell, the magic responsible for allowing living ponies to exist within the System, had nopony to maintain it. It was as though Celestia had been holding back a vice that now clamped down on every cell in her body, squeezing them into excruciating pain. She had no defenses, no way to fight back, and resigned herself—again?—to facing her end. Twilight is safe.

But the pain faded. What’s more, strength washed over her, filling her limbs, and she forced her eyes open in astonishment. Above her, RBD was gaping back over her own shoulder. Dash looked toward the Portal.

Spark stood before them, her eyes glowing a blinding white, waves of magical energy pouring out of her horn, her short-cropped mane and tail rippling from the force. She threw back her head and screamed, half pain, half wild gratification for finally mastering an incomprehensibly difficult skill under incredible pressure. Dash could barely hear it over the turbulence of magic and wind surrounding the unicorn.

But Dash saw Spark had dropped the force field protecting her and the Portal from RBD, to focus on the life support spell, and RBD had noticed this too. The dark mare turned, leaving Dash where she lay, and advanced on Spark.

“No!” shouted Dash as she erupted forward, blasting into RBD, sending them both skittering across the ground. RBD recovered quickly, lashing out at Dash. She managed to dodge it, the blow only grazing her, and returned with a punch to the gut that forced the virtual air from her doppelgänger’s virtual lungs.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep this going, Dash!” cried Spark. Dash glanced at the unicorn and was startled to see a definite fuzziness to her edges, as though she was beginning to lose cohesion and turn to vapor, the raw power of the magic coursing through her threatening to overwhelm her programming.

“Hang on, Spark!” She turned back to her opponent, who was gone.

Dash looked around wildly, catching sight of RBD hurtling through the air right at her. There was no time to react. RBD slammed into her, sending them both tumbling toward the chasm, ever-increasing as the fabric of the System’s reality unwound itself.

They ended up almost at the edge, RBD pinning Dash to the ground again. Dash tipped her head back. The edge of the chasm was only a few feet from them now, chunks of the ground separating and dissolving into nothingness as she watched. Her eyes glazed over as déjà vu chilled her again, memories of grabbing RBD and plunging them both into the chasm filling her mind.

RBD leaned down and growled, “I’m taking your disc—and your life—whether you like it or not, meatbag.” The words echoed in Dash’s mind, trailing right behind a memory of the same. She looked at the empty, waiting Gateway, at the powerful magic pulsing off her friend Spark, and then up into the hatred in RBD’s eyes.

She didn’t have to worry about Celestia and Twilight any more. There still wasn’t time to reset RBD, but she could take a little risk.

Dash threw her hooves out straight to the side, breaking RBD’s hold, and wrapped her forelegs around the dark mare, pinning her wings to her sides, the other’s face changing from rage to confused surprise. Still can’t imagine anything but a direct attack. In the space her enemy’s shock granted her, Dash leaned up to whisper in the other’s ear. “No, you’re not.”

She worked the muscles in her back, a powerful flap of her wings that kicked the both of them up, pivoting backward. They spun through the air in a lazy arc, and she twisted, putting RBD beneath her as they sailed toward the System’s chasm of corruption. RBD struggled in Dash’s embrace, so Dash released her.

Just as RBD began to overcome this second shock in as many seconds, Dash kicked the dark mare’s wings as hard as she could with both back legs, sending her spiraling down into the chasm.

Dash flapped her own wings, grimacing with the effort, reversing her fall and powering herself back towards the Portal, but she didn’t look away. If RBD recovered in time…

But the dark mare didn’t recover. Her scream of rage distorted as her body did, passing through the interface between the System and the corruption. She dissolved into nothingness, like so many programs before her.

Dash hit the ground running, scrambling for the Gateway as the chasm swept forward, slapping the activation control. Spark followed but stopped outside the Portal as it powered up, her burning white horn a stark contrast to the void about to overtake her.

“Can’t you come with me?” Dash shouted over the roar of Spark’s magical output. “Would that even work?”

“Even if it could,” Spark yelled back, “I have to keep this spell going until you’re actually out of the System! So get going!” Dash opened her mouth to argue, but Spark waved wildly at the chasm rushing toward them, the world falling away into darkness. “There’s no time! Get out of here!”

With a roar of frustration, Dash hit the exit command like she’d seen Celestia do. The Gateway sealed as the Portal charged, flooding with brilliant blue light. The pegasus put a hoof against the shimmering force field, and Spark met it with her own.

“You’re saving me again!” Dash cried, forcing a grin even though her eyes were watering.

Spark laughed and shouted back, “You’re a good pony, Dash! A good friend!” Her voice was muffled by the barrier separating them. Dash saw the chasm tearing toward the unicorn, toward herself.

She wanted to look away, but forced herself to keep her gaze steady. Spark deserved that, deserved so much more.

“Call me Rainbow!” she yelled. She wished the Portal would hurry up already.

A smile broke out across Spark’s face, a deeply pleased grin, the last thing Dash saw before the pure brilliance of the Portal blinded her. The last thing she heard was an echoing “Goodbye, Rainbow!” as her senses went numb and her body dissolved into scintillating, burning-hot nothingness.

The next thing she felt was a crushing blow from the side, and she went skidding across the stone floor of Celestia’s secret workshop with a lavender unicorn wrapped around her. “Rainbow!”

She allowed herself to lay there for a moment before shaking her head and pushing herself up. There was a bunch of dust in her eyes or something, and she rubbed furiously at them, blinking hard and clearing her throat, before looking down at the unicorn. “Hey, Twilight.”

“Dash!” Celestia cried out, and galloped over to hug her as well. Luna, thankfully, held back, looking on at the scene with obvious confusion.

Dash awkwardly wrapped a leg around the Princess of the Sun and patted her back. “Hey, Celestia. Good to be here.”

The mares finally released her and helped her to her feet. She groaned and stretched her limbs one by one, working out unusual kinks and tensions on top of the soreness she’d earned fighting her way to the Portal. “I feel like I’ve been through the wringer.” She flared a wing and cast a critical eye over her tattered primaries.

“That is… not entirely inaccurate,” Celestia admitted, eyeing the now-dark cylindrical device behind her control console. “At the quantum level, the process could be seen as—”

“Nope,” Dash said, holding up a hoof. “Don’t wanna know. Really, really don’t.” She glanced around, taking in the wonderfully colorful room. Sure, it was basically brown rock walls and floors with gray metal towers, but the towers had twinkling multicolored lights on them and the walls had cheerful yellow flames burning in sconces—the world wasn’t black lit by white-blue light any more.

She was home.

Within flying distance of it, anyway. She thought of her cloud-soft bed in her actual home and almost fell over from the pleasure of anticipation. “I am beat. How long were we in there?”

Twilight turned and studied the display above the control console. “I inserted myself a few minutes ago. Rainbow, you went in about twenty minutes ago. Princess Celestia has been inside for ten years, one month, four days, seventeen hours, and… thirteen minutes, give or take.”

Celestia, her eyes closed, took in a deep breath, held it, and then slowly released it. She opened her eyes to see them all staring at her, and smiled. “It is good—so very good—to be home.” Luna pressed into her side, tears threatening in her eyes.

Dash blinked, then peered closer at Celestia. There was a hoof-shaped welt rising under her left eye. “What, uh… what happened to you?”

Luna threw a dark look at Twilight, who blanched and shrank back slightly. Celestia wrapped a wing around Luna, hugging her little sister tightly against herself, and in that moment Dash couldn’t tell if it was meant to reassure Luna or restrain her.

“It does not matter,” Celestia said, but to Twilight rather than Dash, and nuzzled into Luna’s mane. Dash raised an eyebrow at her before glancing back to Twilight, who offered up a weak smile.

“Oookay,” Dash said, and examined the rest of the display. Most of it was a map of Equestria, with a steadily-growing black blotch spreading across it. A map of the System, she corrected herself. Her eyes lingered on the spot in the darkness where the Portal had stood. Spark…

She shook herself. “The, uh, last few minutes in there were really… weird. I kept remembering things that hadn’t actually happened? I remembered you guys leaving, but you were already gone?”

Twilight coughed, stepping closer to Dash, and laughed awkwardly. “Well, that’s kind of my fault? I rigged up a failsafe before I went in, a sort of last-ditch break-glass-in-case-of-emergency in case one of us, er, died while inside the System.” She pointed to the edge of the System map, where three squares labeled Celestia, Rainbow, and Twilight glowed amber. “If any of us died, our indicator would turn red, and Luna would hit this button and it would rewind the simulation by two minutes of System time.”

Celestia’s jaw dropped. “What?”

Twilight blushed and shied away. “I’d examined the Station, Gateway, and Portal functions, and saw if a living pony died, their mind would be buffered and their body would end up ejected out of the System. I didn’t think it was safe to rewrite those functions while living ponies were in there, so I layered my own function on top—it continually caches the last two minutes, sim-time, and can reset when prompted.”

Celestia stared at Twilight, speechless, long enough for Twilight to start fidgeting, before finally saying, “I can think of, at minimum, a dozen reasons why that shouldn’t work. You and I need to compare notes.”

Twilight beamed.

Rainbow Dash careened through the dark woods, illuminated only by distant starlight, her hooves pounding the tight-packed earth. Ahead, at the edge of sight, a shape whipped around a tree and disappeared. She poured on speed and rounded the tree, and caught a glimpse of red ribbon and blonde tail before it vanished into the underbrush, drawling laughter floating in its wake.

Dash growled in frustration and redoubled her efforts, sweat coursing through her coat, the salty wetness burning in the cuts and scrapes she accumulated with each new plunge through thicket and shrub. That taunting laughter mingled with her quarry’s hooves striking the ground. She hated it.

Right when she felt herself finally gaining, closing the gap, something shifted: The laughter’s cadence and pitch changed, lilting higher, and Dash burst through the undergrowth just in time to see a streak of pink—and then she launched herself into the air, flapping hard to rocket forward, barely even noticing the gnarled tree root that had broken through the surface of the dirt just where she’d been about to step. The streak darted around an old oak tree and Dash banked to follow, kicking off a neighboring trunk to assist the pivot, and tackled the lavender mare she’d been chasing.

They cartwheeled through the underbrush, laughing the whole way, until they came to a stop in an undignified heap in a grassy clearing, Dash on her back and a welcome weight pressing her into the earth. A mess of dark purple hair with a bright pink streak running through it obscured Dash’s view for a moment, until Twilight pushed herself up to inspect her pursuer. They contemplated one another for a moment, and when Twilight smiled down at her, Dash felt a contentment she hadn’t realized she’d been missing rise up in her chest, suffusing her whole being.

Sound asleep in the darkness of one of Canterlot Castle’s many guest rooms, Dash smiled back.

Comments

[tsaukpaetra]

Heh, we anticipated a thread-halt assertion was Twilight's failsafe, but a ring buffer (apparently) works too.
Quite curious how she's no longer chasing Honesty in her dreams...

[Caligari87]

A buffer reset, absolutely genius. Twilight you've done it again.

Apologies I am so dense, but I absolutely did not see the TwiDash lol. As usual in retrospect it's obviously foreshadowed, but in my defense I don't think Rainbow realized it either.

I am sad Spark didn't get out I know it didn't really make sense in the movie (how would the laser generate a new body ex nihilio?) and your new rules establish that RBD would have needed a vessel, but... I miss Spark.

[RBDash47]

11418786

Apologies I am so dense, but I absolutely did not see the TwiDash lol. As usual in retrospect it's obviously foreshadowed, but in my defense I don't think Rainbow realized it either.

It's pretty subtextual, to be fair, because neither of my POV characters were equipped to acknowledge it. Twilight was completely oblivious, wrapped up as she was in her own problems. Dash, I think, had some inkling, but much like Twilight pushed down and ignored her guilt, Dash pushed down and ignored her shame at Twilight's rejection. Twilight at least had the self-awareness to know why she felt so guilty, but Dash was startled by just how much Twilight's rejection hurt her, didn't really understand what that meant or how to cope with it, and buried it all.

I am sad Spark didn't get out I know it didn't really make sense in the movie (how would the laser generate a new body ex nihilio?) and your new rules establish that RBD would have needed a vessel, but... I miss Spark.

I know, I love Spark. She went through a lot, and I'm proud of her for working out the life support spell in the end, saving her new-old friend.

On a meta level, going into it I knew I couldn't have my Kevin Flynn sacrifice herself; the consequences to Equestria and the greater world of killing off Celestia felt wildly out of proportion for my silly little story. I was also reluctant to have my CLU counterpart's sacrifice be permanent; from a storycraft standpoint, I didn't like the idea of killing off the primary POV character after we'd spent so much time in her head, and from a selfish standpoint I wasn't willing to murder my favorite darling, lol.

But I still felt like a sacrifice needed to be made -- Dash's was noble, to be sure, and while she had every belief it was a permanent choice, her instant resurrection still weakened things. Spark, on the other hand, I could live with killing -- just like I could live with killing the other Mane 6 programs -- because their originals were all still alive and well, yet I still felt it represented a sacrifice because she had lived fifty of our Twilight's lifetimes, and all that was lost forever.

Setting things up this way also allowed us to see in no uncertain terms that both Dash and Twilight are willing to die for one another; each of them actually did so, even if at something of a sci-fi remove.

[RBDash47]

11418786
You've got me re-reading and I had honestly forgotten about this passage back in chapter 8; it was a late addition.

“Aw, it was just a… so I have this dream sometimes, where I’m chasing Applejack through the woods, but right as I’m finally about to catch up with her, I trip and fall. It’s dumb, Applejack and I race all the time, I don’t know why it keeps happening.”

“So you were chasing Applejack and fell?” Spark raised an eyebrow. “And you called Twilight for help?”

“Oh. I said that out loud, huh?” Dash cleared her throat awkwardly and Spark grinned, but there was an undercurrent of intense interest there too. “Well, it wasn’t that I fell. It wasn’t the usual dream, this time. I think I was chasing Cracken, but then it ended up where RBD had me cornered. You woke me up right before she… I’m pretty sure she was about to kill me.”

“Oh, Dash,” Spark murmured sadly. She shifted a bit closer on the bench and rested her head on Dash’s shoulder. “I’m glad I could save you.”

Dash stiffened at the unexpected contact and looked down at the unicorn program. “Spark…?”

Spark looked up at her, being careful with her new horn. Their faces were very close, Dash thought. Closer than they should be.

And then Spark seemed to come back to herself, a look of shock sweeping over her face as she scrambled upright and pushed herself away. Dash was left sitting there, speechless and bewildered, with Spark now at the other end of the bench. “Spark? Are you okay?”

“I’m—” She nodded, and then stopped abruptly and shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. This has been—I know this has been a very strange time for you, but it’s been a strange time for me, too.” She stared at Dash. “You have to understand, before everything… before everything went wrong, RBD and I were—” A spasm of pain crossed her face. “We were very close. We understood each other. She was one of my best friends. Like Twilight is to you. You would do anything for Twilight, wouldn’t you?”

Dash’s throat got tight. “I—” She swallowed.

Would I? Still?

Of course she would. “Yes.”

“And I would have done anything for RBD. But I… but I couldn’t. There was nothing I could do. By the time I found out there was even a problem, she was already gone, and there was nothing I could do to get her back. I couldn’t… couldn’t save her.”

Spark went quiet for a moment before continuing, and when she looked back at Dash, tears began to form in her eyes. “And then hundreds of cycles after I managed to make some kind of peace with that, you show up.

“You are the RBD I remember. You are the passionate, loyal program—pony—that was ripped from me a thousand cycles ago. And the first thing I had to do when I saw you was save you from RBD!” She laughed, just a touch hysterical, through her tears. “I saved you from the program I couldn’t save. And I just…” She sniffled and wiped at her face. “In a lot of ways it’s been really nice to have you here. Have you back. I’ve missed you so much, Arr...”

When she realized what she’d begun to call Dash, Spark looked pained again. Dash couldn’t stand it. She spread her forelegs and Spark collapsed into her, sobbing quietly. Dash held her tightly. She couldn’t think of anything to say, so she just rubbed her back in what she hoped was a comforting way.

Eventually, Spark calmed to an occasional whimper, and she mumbled into Dash’s chest, “We have to get you out of here. Celestia, too, but Dash, your Twilight must be so miserable. We have to get you back to her.”

Spark didn't just lose a friend when RBD corrupted. (Naturally, she assumes that her real-world counterpart feels the same way about RBD's real-world counterpart, but Dash doesn't understand the subtext here.)

Celestia actually (thoughtlessly) referenced the extent of their relationship back in chapter 6:

“How could you let her go?!” Celestia cried. “The Portal is sealed! There is no reason to take such risks, not now!” She paced back and forth across the cavern mouth, her cloak swirling in agitation.

“That’s what I said! But she made some very compelling points—”

Celestia snorted irritably. “Yes, I’m sure Rainbow Dash had to try very hard to convince you to do what she wanted.”

Spark froze, a mixture of embarrassment and hurt playing across her features, and Celestia instantly regretted her loss of control. “Spark, I’m so sorry. That was completely uncalled for.” She went over and offered her a hug, and after a moment, Spark accepted it, cheeks still burning.

All of this was meant to imply, since the sim is based on reality, that Twilight and Dash do or should have feelings for each other and would have been together in the real world if not for the events of the prologue.

[Caligari87]

11419175

Yeah, the foreshadowing is pretty solid; I guess I just parsed it as strong friendship the whole time for some reason!

Thanks for taking the time and going back over that, BTW. I read your blog too. It's awesome to hear your process and ideas as a writer about this stuff. You clearly thought a lot about it, and it shows in the quality and depth of the final product. Excellent work.