Salvation

by voroshilov

Visions

“New Horizons,” Ablazed Glory said as she regarded the world from afar, “where Equestria crawled to when the end came.”

“Your species has displayed a remarkable propensity for adaptation and survival,” remarked Cain, though not fully in response to Ablazed Glory’s comments, “it is only fitting it is they who bear the torch.”

Ablazed Glory scoffed. “The torch stained in their blood.”

Though Astrid paid half attention to Cain and Ablazed Glory’s stunted back and forth, Penumbra put it out of her mind entirely. She was focused on one thing - not even her objective could keep her from it. She had to see that stallion, the one who had spoken to her when she first visited New Horizons. She’d promised him, hadn’t she? Grandpa Apple, his name had been - he was from the same family as Applejack, wasn’t he? He deserved to know how his ancestor had died.

“You don’t know what love is,” Ablazed Glory retorted angrily - evidently her conversation had gone sour quickly, surprising considering it had been about half a minute, unsurprising considering one of the parties was Ablazed Glory - “you’re like.” She gesticulated a moment, trying to find the words. “Gah, I don’t know what you are. At least most robots don’t bother with the concept of love, being told that I’m wrong about it by one is more than an insult.”

Astrid laughed. “You two ought to iron out your differences. I have a feeling we’ll be needing to trust each other soon.”

Ablazed Glory snorted, two small jets of flame shooting from her nostrils. “Penumbra,” she called, “what do you think love is?”

Penumbra slowly came to attention, having only partially understood the question. “Hmm,” she hummed and made a gesture of thought, in reality just buying herself time to work everything out - or for some freak event to happen and end the conversation right then and there.

“You don’t want to know what I think?” Astrid interjected in mock outrage, winking sideways at Penumbra, “I’m almost insulted.”

“Alright then.” Ablazed Glory exhaled theatrically. “Go ahead.”

Astrid made a gesture of clearing her throat, straightening up as if about to give a rousing speech - which Penumbra immediately recognised as her buying time. “In my view,” she said, placing no small embellishment into her tone, “love is a feeling, like a pleasant warmth all over you, one that can beat any other feeling. Love is a willingness to sacrifice. Without it, we’d be nowhere.”

Ablazed Glory seemed almost impressed; in the way only Ablazed Glory could be.

“And no love,” Astrid continued, “is greater than that of Emperor Nicholas.” She smiled. “My sister, she was the Archon of Love. Yet, even she cannot match what he felt. His love was not infinite, but it was as close as it could get.”

“Where’d that come from?” Penumbra asked, her previous half-paying attention changing to full on curiosity.

Astrid shrugged. “I thought it important to note. I connected with him once, entered into his mind. It was remarkable, to say the least. There was such a great love in there, it dwarfed even his hatred, which I can say was rather immense.”

It always went back to him, didn’t it?

“What’s taking this thing.” Ablazed Glory groaned as she kicked the console she was sitting at, “Luminary, when are we landing?”

“I am searching for an adequate location to land. There has been a surge in activity since our previous visit.”

“Activity?” Ablazed Glory questioned, “what kind?”

Astrid was the one who answered, interrupting the Luminary - the AI making a buzz that marked the start of the first syllable but being cut off before it could go further - “building,” she said, “expanding their town, it seems.”

Ablazed Glory shot to her feet. “Why?” She questioned, with a sudden and strange deadly seriousness, “what would make them start now? Four thousand years they’ve done nothing, now they decide to change everything?”

“Is everything alright?” Astrid asked, “you look concerned. Almost like you believe someone you love is in danger.” She chuckled. “I say almost, as if I don’t already know.”

Ablazed Glory’s fire became even stronger, pillars of lurid red and orange leaping across her body and into the air.

“Take us down,” she ordered the Luminary, “set us close to the town, it doesn’t matter how many pegasi you frighten. Put us on the ground.” With a final stamp of her feet, she marched from the bridge.

Penumbra looked to Astrid. The Archon made a theatrical gesture of placing her index finger to her temple, before simply stating, “she’s going to jump.”

The moment Penumbra realised exactly what Astrid had meant, a flaming streak - unmistakably Ablazed Glory - passed by on the viewscreen, speeding to the ground just shy of the speed of sound.

“Your comrade appears very impulsive,” Cain remarked, “my predictions as to who made the decisions between you were correct, it seems.”

“Pity you’re not a gambler,” Astrid deadpanned, “you could make a lot of money with deduction skills like that.”

“The Irenton Dominion does not utilise a currency, moreover my predictive abilities are far too superior to that of any organic to make for a fun gambling experience.”

Although Penumbra could crack a smile at Cain’s pragmatic, and deadpan, manner of speech and beliefs, she was far too concerned with the small cloud of dust that had engulfed Ablazed Glory as she landed to give as much as a snicker.

“Your friend is on the ground,” it said, “she is perfectly alright physically, although I am detecting increased adrenaline levels.”

Astrid laughed. “Increased from what?”

The Retaliator landed with a thud, then another thud as a stone pillar became dust beneath it. Four pegasi appeared at the viewscreen, appearing almost annoyed, until they became sickly white and scattered as the three crew marched down the disembarkation ramp. An earthpony foreman, with a brown coat and little yellow hardhat on his head, trembled next to the small stack of bricks that would eventually become the corner of a house. His builders either stepped back in undisguised awe and fear or outright ran.

For a moment, Penumbra wondered if that was what Nicholas had felt like.

“Want me to go and find Ablazed Glory?” Astrid asked, not even moving her mouth to speak - Penumbra had not expected to have to add ventriloquy to Astrid’s list of talents.

“Yeah,” she replied, “I need to go and meet a stallion.”

“I know,” Astrid interrupted her, “I thought we’d established I read minds. I’ll take Cain with me, unless you’d rather do something else?”

“Negative,” Cain replied, “I should like to see how Ablazed Glory handles her increased stress levels.”

Astrid stepped forwards, heading towards where Ablazed Glory had landed. She held up a hand and waved goodbye to the alicorn behind her, as Cain marched robotically behind her. Penumbra waved a talon back, before heading off in the other direction, towards the outskirts of town.

Penumbra would once have had a problem finding the stallion she was looking for. However, given her magical abilities, it was merely a matter of remembering what he was like, then moving her head a little to scan the whole town. Sure enough, lit up in bright red in her magical sight, sat in bed, was Grandpa Apple. He was in a house a little more than a few streets away from where they had landed, excellent.

For a reason Penumbra could not fully fathom, ponies kept their doors unlocked. The thought that arose around that naturally gave way to branching trains of thought about crime rates and neighbourly fraternity. Regardless, she did not allow it to concern her, rather she believed it a good thing as she stepped inside Grandpa Apple’s house, the roof low enough that she was forced to stoop.

She made her way to the upper floor, where the stallion lay, two other ponies - a yellow pegasus with a red mane and one with a blue mane - by his side. They both turned to regard the new visitor, first with a calm confusion and then with a shocked reverence.

“I promised I would return,” Penumbra said, stepping closer to the stallion’s bed, “and I have.”

The stallion looked up at her, a wearied look about him. “You do me a great honour,” he said, slowly, “coming to see an old stallion in his final days.”

“Let it be known,” she said, “that Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra always follows through on her promises. How are you feeling, Grandpa Apple?”

Ablazed Glory had practically charged to Kindle’s forge, more than a few ponies leaping out of her path just in time, avoiding the burning alicorn by barely inches. She had not knocked on the door, or waited for a reply, as she had last time, rather, she leapt inside, the door swinging inwards on impact. She dashed through each room, calling out for the inhabitant. Eventually, she was grabbed from behind and came to a sudden halt.

“Glory,” Kindle said, “what’s going on?”

Ablazed Glory breathed a fiery sigh of relief and let herself slacken. “Wanted to make sure you were alright, is all. Apparently there was a load of movement.”

“Yeah, the mayor’s ordered some new houses built, something about being inspired by Penumbra’s arrival.” Kindle detached from Ablazed Glory, the burning alicorn lowering her stance slightly.

“That makes for two of us,” Ablazed Glory mumbled, “anything been happening recently?”

“Aside from your arrival? No, it’s been as quiet as usual.”

Ablazed Glory nodded. She had learned long ago that nothing happened on New Horizons. When something did happen - as she could attest - it served as a cause for worry, at least for her it did. Truly, it spoke volumes about her that something as simple as a small scale building project immediately activated her adrenaline response. Nothing happened on New Horizons, that was simply how it was. Though she did desire to change that.

“What about you?” Kindle asked, a pleasant smile on her face.

Ablazed Glory chuckled wryly. “Oh, where to begin?”

Astrid and Cain took their time. One could sense if there was danger, the other predicted there was none. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, far from it, Astrid had grown rather fond of the burning quadruped. Cain knew she was important to its objectives, so had a vested interest in keeping her alive.

Though she styled herself as Princess of Dreams, Astrid had been little more than a viewer during the time of Emperor Nicholas - what few parts of it she was able to do so anyway. Like a person with a whole cinema to themselves, she would browse through the various dreams, find one that she found interesting and watch it. Back in her heyday, she had been much more proactive, though even after Nicholas’ death she had found herself taking the position of a passive observer. Truth be told, she rather liked it, there was rarely boredom - that was for sure. But, there was still an empty part of her, part of her that could only be filled by adventure, dreams could only do so much.

Cain, meanwhile, had never had such power. Or, perhaps it had, there was a gap in its memory. That, or it was very new. Either was possible, though the former was the most probable. It had previously thought on the nature of its existence: what it was, how it came about, etc. Although, nothing had ever really come of it. Philosophical questions were too open-ended. Questions of logical reasoning were practically nothing to it, but philosophy remained as it did because it wasn’t suited to machines. What was its plan? It had its objectives, of course, but what were its long term goals? It pondered for a millisecond, before reassigning the processing power to more important tasks.

Both could see Ablazed Glory’s path in the road: burnt ground and heavy talonprints. They drew a fair few eyes, but one was used to the attention and the other didn’t care - or notice.

Ablazed Glory appeared in front of them, a dragon standing on two legs with her. “Oh.” The burning alicorn gesticulated a moment when she saw them. “Kindle, this is Astrid and Cain. Likewise. I need to get something from the ship.”

Once again, she vanished, sprinting off to the Retaliator. She had made a sport of running off without warning.

A few minutes later, she returned, stack of papers in telekinetic tow, and Penumbra in metaphorical tow. She handed the papers off to the dragon, who seemed shocked at how many of them there were - and at the fact Ablazed Glory could write - before heading off back to her forge.

“Now that we are convened,” Cain spoke as though they had just landed, “we should speak with this town’s mayor, who may take us to the Glow sisters.”

“Couldn’t we find them ourselves?” Ablazed Glory asked as they walked ,”I know a lot of people in this town, one of them must know the Glow sisters.”

Cain was at the lead, marching forwards in its robotic manner - which appeared simultaneously stunted yet strangely fast. “The mayor of this town will allow us to get an easier audience with the pair.”

“How do you mean?” Penumbra asked, believing Ablazed Glory’s plan of just asking around would probably be easier.

Cain kept marching, tone naturally betraying no feeling or pause for thought of any kind. “The Glow sisters will likely not react well to our initial presence. The mayor will provide a stabilising variable that will improve our chances of a successful interaction by sixty four percent. Without her, I estimate a seventeen percent chance of a successful interaction, with a thirty five percent chance of a severe failure that will impede in our objective.”

Ablazed Glory scoffed, walking at the back of the group. “So they’ll be scared of us. Great. They sound super important for defeating this end of the world scenario of yours.”

Penumbra turned, looking at her burning partner over a muscular shoulder. “Don’t underestimate anyone,” she said, “scared doesn’t mean weak.” She turned back.

“These Glow sisters,” Astrid began, before sighing and shaking her head. “Nevermind.”

The mayor’s residence was the town hall, a sturdy and rather large building located in the centre of town. It sat adjacent to the square, which bore little else save connecting streets. The mayor herself, half-moon glasses hanging on the edge of her nose, was sitting inside her office, visible from without.

“Enter,” Cain said, “Penumbra, you would be the best candidate for the initial meeting, please encourage the mayor to come out and meet us.”

“We’re not going inside?” Ablazed Glory questioned, “why?” Barely a moment later, she sighed and shook her flaming head. “Oh, that’s why.”

The town hall’s interior was pleasant - neither too ostentatious nor too bare. There was a nice carpet laying out a path to each room, though it was short enough that it didn’t seem to sink on every step. The lights were all electrical, connected to a pair of generators at the back of the building, both apparently surplus Imperial makes. The walk to the mayor’s room should have been short and easy, but the reception desk proved a stubborn obstacle.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the receptionist drawled, staring down at her papers, “the mayor isn’t taking visitors at this time.”

Penumbra straightened up, hoping to draw the receptionist’s eye without waving a talon in front of her. She cleared her throat, loudly, but the receptionist continued to stare blankly at the small stack in front of her.

“I am Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra,” she said, giving her voice all the authority she could muster without outright bellowing, “I will see the mayor.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Yes,” she said, without so much as a thought, “I do.”

She stepped up to the reception desk, before rearing on her hind talons and slamming her two forelegs into the wood, causing it to crack and shake.

“I have two, right here.”

The receptionist let her pass.

The mayor’s office was a simple right turn away from the reception, the door a simple matter of a push. The mayor herself was looking over a series of reports, clearly deeply engrossed in them.

“No visitors,” she said simply, evidently having meant to include more words.

“I have given myself an exception.”

The mayor snapped to attention immediately, practically leaping from her chair and bowing her head. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, “I didn’t mean…”

Penumbra waved her off. “Doesn’t matter. Please come outside with me, I have some friends who wish to speak with you.”

The veritably tiny mare fell in step behind her, Penumbra leading her outside, past the badly cracked reception desk - some hobbyist woodworker could fix it in no time. Penumbra assured herself. Cain, Ablazed Glory and Astrid stood ready to meet her, appearing a very mismatched group.

“The Glow sisters,” Cain said, skipping any form of formalities, “take us to them, please inform them we mean them no harm and do all you can to allay their fears.”

The presence of a WarSynth twice her height caused the mayor to freeze. It was only natural, no Assembly constructs had been seen by the average Equestrian survivor, and a WarSynth’s chassis was designed to appear skeletal - a form that naturally inspired a primal fear.

“Don’t worry,” Astrid cooed, “we mean you no harm. We only wish to speak to the Glow sisters. Can you do that for us?”

Penumbra felt a tingle in the nape of her neck. It was something Astrid had said, she was sure of it. She’d felt magic, though it was a magic far unlike hers - it was similar enough as to interact with her own in a familiar way. Was Astrid using her powers to influence the mayor? Or, was it just a coincidence?

The mayor nodded and led them forwards, towards the edge of town. She was silent the whole trip, almost as though she was on auto-pilot. The odd pony they passed made a shocked face or gesture, moving out of the way and staring at them with a mixture of reverence and fear, but there were very few of them.

The home of the Glow sisters was fairly out of the way, with the closest houses about fifty metres away. It was small, a bungalow, without the sturdy appearance of the other houses. It was also dark, with the blinds all drawn closed on the windows and no light emanating from under the door.

The mayor knocked twice on the door. A minute passed before, with the clunk of a lock, the door opened a crack, revealing an almost pitch black entrance hall and two pairs of blue-grey eyes. Both pairs widened fearfully, retreating at the same moment, the door slamming shut behind them.

Astrid gestured the mayor forwards, who knocked twice again. “Moon Glow, Sun Glow,” she called, as approachable as possible, “it’s alright. You can come out.”

The door opened by a crack again, the two pairs of eyes reappearing.

“No thank you,” two voices, identical in pitch and volume, called back.

Penumbra’s neck tingled again.

“It’s alright,” Astrid said, crouching down to get vaguely eye to eye, “we’re friends.” She smiled warmly. “We just want to help you.”

The two voices mumbled something, apparently to each other, before calling back. “Ghost.”

Astrid seemed to bristle a little.

“Hey,” Ablazed Glory whispered to Penumbra, “who the hell are these two?”

Penumbra shrugged, then stepped forwards. “I’m Penumbra,” she said, “I’d like to speak with you.”

The eyes receded slightly. “No thank you,” they chorused, “demon.”

Penumbra raised her rear right talon in a fairly elaborate gesture to Ablazed Glory, who had flinched and was about to shout at the two shadowed figures. She then nodded to Astrid, another tingle shooting down from the nape of her neck to the end of her spine.

“We’ve heard about your visions,” she said, “we want to help you.”

The door opened a little further, semi-revealing the faces of the two in question. They were both unicorns, with the lower face a golden colour - bearing an orange mane - and the higher one an alabaster white - with a cobalt blue mane.

“You were there,” they said in unison, “in the nightmares.”

Astrid nodded. “It’s alright,” she said, “we’re not here to hurt you, we’re here to talk.”

“Ghost,” they chorused, looking to Astrid, then to Ablazed Glory, “queen.” Then to Cain. “Watcher.” Then, finally, to Penumbra. They hesitated before they spoke, “demon.”

“What do you mean by ‘demon’?” Penumbra asked them, kneeling down to bring herself to eye level.

“You were made by the demon,” they chorused, with what could have been panic in their voices, “made by Him.”

Him.

How did they know about him?

Was it even the same him?

Astrid came between them, silently urging Penumbra to move back. “The nightmares,” she said, “we want to talk to you about them, if that’s okay.”

Where there had previously been a tingle, now it felt like Penumbra had become a wire. Energy seemed to arc along her spine constantly, enough that her back arched slightly.

“Talk,” the two unicorns whispered, “we do not talk, we recite.”

Astrid didn’t seem to take that as an invitation, so continued in her attempt at persuasion. “Can you tell us about them? The nightmares? We want to help stop whatever is coming.”

The two unicorns stared, statuesque and silent, for a few moments. “We will recite,” they acquiesced, “recite.”

The two rose slightly and stepped beyond their door. Aside from their colours, they were entirely identical, right down to height and build. Neither had marks on their flanks, just like most others in the town, which in itself was curious to Penumbra.

“The visions,” they said, “the nightmare. Prescience, knowledge of future events.”

Penumbra looked them in the eyes. “What can you tell us about them?”