The Conversion Bureau: Threshold

by Guardian_Gryphon

Chapter 7

Equestrian Calendar: 2nd Month, 8th Day, Year 1002 PB (Post Banishment)
Three Hours Before Sunset
Royal Palace Gardens
Canterlot

Celestia had long since dismissed her courtiers, visitors, and even the majority of her guards. The only remaining souls within the gardens were two of her most trusted personal guards, station at the entrance.

As she strode the lush, well tended paths, an internal struggle raged. She and Luna had spent hours and hours upon end discussing the possible reasons for the situation at hoof. Worlds could no more move on their own than any other physical object without internal locomotive force.

After an extensive study of The Octant, the two sisters had independently reached the same inevitable conclusion; there was no sound explanation for Equestria's newfound momentum in the astral plane.

No other world, not even so much as a loose strand of energy, had been near their relatively isolated pocket of existence in centuries, much less anything large enough to impart the momentum they now possessed.

The implications bothered Celestia and Luna alike, but the elder sister had convinced the younger to drop the issue. She had argued that nothing would be served by learning the cause of the event, only by learning the outcome as swiftly as possible.

It was not the first time in her life Celestia had lied to her sister. Hopefully it would be the last.

Celestia was old, and wise, even by the standards of her long-lived and rare sub-species. She had seen enough of the workings of the worlds to know that if hers collided with another, at its present momentum, it would mean a permanent end to the way of life cherished by millions, or even billions of innocents.

She knew that the actions she was about to take brought a certain degree of risk with them, but in her mind it was worth it for even the outside chance that she might be able to avert the coming cataclysm.

Celestia's final objections were put to rest as she suddenly found herself standing before her objective. The wall of hedge looked like any other in the garden; just tall enough so that even she could not see over it. Unlike the other carefully laid out leafy structures, however, this one resonated with untold quantities of magic, to those who were properly attuned.

For a moment, the Princess stood still, gaining control over her concerns, and strife. The lock she had placed on the hedge was effectively unsolvable to any with even the slightest disharmony, within or without.

When she was sure the lock would respond favorably, she allowed a tiny spark of magic to illuminate the tip of her horn.

In response, a single solitary leaf began to glow; pinpricks of light running through its veins like so much static charge from the passing of a storm. Gradually, the paths of bluish-white light spread to the veins of other leaves, and then began to curl out into the air.

Within seconds, Celestia was surrounded by what could only be described as an intricate knot puzzle of luminescent magical leaves and vines.

She turned slowly in a circle, patiently and carefully searching for the best starting point. Sometimes working out the solution to the lock could take an hour or more.

It was always best to choose the first move carefully; aside from the wasted time caused by an impatient move, introducing too much disharmony into the pattern would cause it to eventually form into a tightly-bound cage of energy, spells, and physical bonds, capable of entrapping even an Alicorn.

"Ah. There you are." She smiled slightly, and at the behest of a small tug from her horn, the pattern began to move. Slowly, but steadily, she stood that way for the better part of half an hour; the leaves and vines moving, and bending at her beck and call until finally the space she was standing in had changed altogether.

What had once been a roughly spherical tangle of chaotic twists and turns was now a perfectly symmetrical dome of intricate patterns, culminating in an arched entryway that bisected the hedge itself.

Celestia stepped cautiously, but purposefully through.

The space within looked like nothing so much as an ordinary garden bower; gravel for bedding, a circular hedge with the entryway she had just traversed, four small benches...

And in the center; a statue.

Celestia circled the stone sculpture, an expression of stern criticism twisting her usually pleasant visage into something more frightening.

Even had it sat in the garden proper, most would not have appreciated the sculpture, even from an artistic standpoint. A Mish-mash of biological heritages, it seemed as if some artist had tried, and failed miserably, to draw tribute to the many races of Equestria, instead ending up with a satirization in marble.

Celestia knew better.

Even if the Draconequus wasn't a popular image in art, there were other reasons that the particular statute before her was not fit for public viewing, despite the absolutely life-like detail it presented.

She plodded back around to the front of the statue, and stared angrily into the stone eyes, which seemed to eerily follow her every action.

Finally, she spoke, "I know you are here. Show yourself.... Discord."

Earth Calendar: 1/20/2102
15:18 GMT
Terceira Island, 18 Kliks N-NW of Staging Camp
The Azores

Puller sat with his rifle across his legs, staring at a spot in empty space. He had been staring at the same spot for almost an hour; intrigued.

According to Thornton, the point in mid-air was the event horizon of the anomaly. The only thing Puller or anyone else could see to back up that assertion was a slight shimmer now and again.

The unseen spoke volumes more; radiation levels were approaching those found in certain types of White Dwarf stars, and the gravitational distortion was so severe that Thornton had been forced to set up a makeshift barricade of crates to prevent anyone from accidentally walking into the space and being shredded like an old document.

Puller had nearly been unnerved himself; the first probe the scientist tried to move near the event horizon had warped, visibly bending as if it were being liquefied, before shattering into pieces no bigger than paint flecks.

The giblets had hung there, their relative timeline affected by the enormous gravitational shear.
Thornton had compared it to a small black hole.

Radio and satellite communications wouldn't function anywhere near the rift, so periodically Thornton had journeyed back down the slope with either Konem, or Cal, to report progress.

According to Thornton, their understanding of the rift had increased exponentially, but with that the chances of finding a solution to the underlying problem had dimmed from slight to non-existent.

Puller gestured to the shimmering column of air, then rapped on the scientist's shoulder, "Explain it again."

Thornton's attention remained on the DaTab clutched in his gloved hands, but he spoke with surprising clarity, and an even more surprising lack of frustration, "The problem is that what we are seeing here is akin to the wind being pushed down an underground maglev tunnel. Its only a symptom of the oncoming train."

The scientist tapped the screen before him with a thumb, then began filling in an equation as he continued, "When the train arrives, we will experience a threshold event; a barrier will form between us and the train to act as a consumptive mediator. Matter from our universe will be repurposed by the momentum of the oncoming one, similar to the way paint is traded in a car collision, only at higher retention factors."

Puller shrugged, "And?"

"And considering we are approximately the size of a tin soda can by comparison to the train, our chances of arresting its momentum are absolutely nonexistent."

Firebrand strode up from behind, clad in a suit of her own hazmat gear, "Then why are you guys still here?"

Thornton glanced up briefly, "Because the data we collect here is something we will never have another chance to acquire, and down the road... assuming we survive the threshold event, we may need it to explore other solutions."

Firebrand glanced down at her chronometer, "Yeah? Well you guys need to keep a better eye to the time. You missed check-in by over three hours... so they sent me in."

Puller raised an eyebrow, "It's been fifteen minutes since last check-in. What the hell are you..."

Thornton roughly grabbed Puller's arm, and Firebrand's alike, placing their chronometers side-by-side.

The Colonel and the Pilot alike were at a loss for words; Firebrand's device read '18:18,' Puller's read '15:18.'

Firebrand balked, pulling back and staring at her watch, "That.... that's not *possible.*"

Thornton slammed his glove against the side of his helmet, "IDIOT! Stupid stupid stupid... how could I have missed this....?"

Cal and Konem, attracted by the noise, came jogging into the campsite, the blond Agent spoke first, "What's going on here?"

Thornton rounded on her, "I *missed* something critical that's what! Time is affected by gravity... the shear has been increasing over the past twenty four hours, and it should have *occurred* to me that the temporal variance would follow."

Konem held up a hand, "Wait wait wait... are you saying....?"

Thornton nodded, "Time is passing differently for us."

Cal shrugged, "Ok... so doesn't that mean we have *more* time for you to poke at this thing?"

Thornton shook his head adamantly, "No no NO! As the variance increases, it will create a particle vacuum effect..."

At the group's hesitant glances, Thornton's temper finally snapped, "It will ACCELERATE THE BLOODY THRESHOLD EVENT, ALL RIGHT?! As of NOW? We are *COMPLETELY OUT* OF TIME."

It took everyone a moment to adjust to the gravity of the situation. Puller was the first to speak, "Firebrand, go around the corner and pick up Luis and Koenig. They went to set up a remote observation post about three hundred yards west. Cal, Konem... help your friend pack it in. We're out of here."

Thornton held up a hand, "No. We can't. You don't understand... I still have three tachyonic probe experiments running..."

Cal cut him off aggressively, "So run them as a simulation back home!"

"NO! Without this specific data-set, we may run out of time. For the PLANET."

Konem squinted, "I thought you said we had no chance of stopping this?"

"We *don't,* but think of it like using BB's to stop an oncoming train... With one person and one dinky gun its not gonna make much difference is it? But if we knew where to put the people, and what kind of guns to use..."

Cal, to everyone's surprise, nodded, "You could slow the train long enough to get off the tracks."

Puller glanced from his Pilot, to Konem, to Thornton, then back to Cal, "You vouch for him? You think his idea has merit?"

Cal nodded, "Not that I'm much of the science type, but I know when someone is actually onto something, versus when they're bull--"

"Good enough for me," Puller waved to Firebrand, and Konem, "Get the rest of the team, get out. I'll stay behind."

Cal glared, "He's my problem not yours..."

Puller smirked, "Can you fly a VTOL?"

Konem snorted, "Um.. excuse me? Bad idea! You should see the way she *drives*...."

The colonel nodded, "That's what I thought," he turned to Firebrand, "Make sure they leave us an evac ship on-station at the LZ."

Firebrand grinned, "Even if I have to strike a superior officer." She paused, then clasped Puller in an abrupt and brief hug, "Take care boss."

Puller nodded, and smiled, "You too. Save me some dinner, and leave a landing light on."

"You got it."

The colonel turned back to Thornton as the rest of the group took off down the mountainside, "I want to know now, how long do we have?"

Thornton chuckled wryly, "Accounting for the temporal variance? An hour."

"Make it your finest."

Equestrian Calendar: 2nd Month, 8th Day, Year 1002 PB (Post Banishment)
Two and a Half Hours Before Sunset
Inner Sanctum, Royal Palace Gardens
Canterlot

Celestia glared at the statue for several minutes, before the voice finally rang out, "Oh Celly... You never *were* very much fun with party games. It was such a good staring contest... I'm sure I would have won, considering I can't blink. At all."

The Princess shook her head, "I don't have time for *games* Discord." As she spoke, her horn flared slightly with tension.

"Tsk tsk tsk... Careful now. You don't want to feed my vices *too* much. It doesn't seem conducive to your agenda."

"Enough! I want an answer; are you responsible for this?"

Celestia tensed slightly as she felt a presence over her shoulder, she turned to see a ghostly image of the imprisoned Draconequus lounging in a hammock suspended from itself; the cord wrapping around in an infinite moebius loop.

"Tut tut now. Antecedents are so tricky. And I *am* responsible for *so* many of the fun moments in our relationship... Although it seems like you don't appreciate them as much anymore."

Discord turned and gave her a sad puppy-eyes expression, "Do you think we should get counseling dear? I hear Cadence is a marvelous therapist.... then again, I also hear that princess is in another castle now..."

Celestia glowered, "You know very well what I mean. You can't have failed to sense it, and you surely worked it out before we did."

Discord chuckled, the mirthful sound tainted with a deeper ominous current, "I find it amusing how your kind is loathe to use specific terms to describe distasteful things. You always seem to like to call them by pronouns...."

The Draconequus snapped his claws, and his image blinked to the opposite side of the sun Princess. he leaned into one ear, "Is this why you almost never call me by my name to others? Or are you just afraid to admit that you don't entirely hate me?"

Celestia maintained her stoic expression, until Discord finally sighed, and blinked over to a bench, "Oh very well. I'll give you an answer... the best I have... but first *you* have to give *me* something. You scratch my flank, and I'll ask to take you out to dinner first, then I'll..."

"*What* precisely do you want?"

Discord smirked, "Its getting harder for me to see the world beyond, the more wards you put on this prison. I want to know one tiny teensy little insignificant thing."

The Draconequus blinked to Celestia's side again, and wrapped his insubstantial illusion lazily around her wings and forelegs, bringing his head up to face hers, "All I want to know, is how it ends."

To her credit, Celestia remained calm, "How it ends?"

In a blur of motion, Discord extricated himself to stand upright before Celestia, "Of *course!* I love a good *mess* Celly dearest. I want you to come back, once its over... and tell me how it ends!"

Celestia took a moment to consider Discord's offer. Even knowledge could be dangerous, hence why she had begun re-enforcing the wards on the chaos avatar's prison every time she had excess time and strength to spare. Then again, if she was the one delivering the information, she had control over what particulars he was allowed to know. An acceptable risk.

She took a deep breath, "Very well. We have... a deal."

"*Maaaaaaarvelous!* dear, simply marvelous!" With a snap of his claws, Discord conjured pale illusions of two sombrero clad Diamond Dogs with trumpets, and a similar hat with matching festive scarf of black, gold, and red for himself.

"So," he snapped again, and the trumpets became marching drums, "Drum Roll please."

The two mindless images obediently set to tapping their instruments.

Discord smirked, "The best I can tell you, dearest Celestia, is to look to the lady in black."

Celestia glowered, "What do you mean? Is she responsible for this?"

Discord laughed, stepping backwards as his illusions faded, "Nooo... but she has a very... very... *very* long..."

The Draconequus continued to step backwards, grinning, until his ghostly projection merged with the statue and vanished, leaving only the echo of words behind, "memory."

Earth Calendar: 1/20/2102
18:22 GMT
Long Island Refugee Staging Camp
New York City

"All inbound civilians, please check in at medical central for DNA logging. Repeat; all civilians must check in, or you will not be allowed to proceed to housing or treatment wards. Baker team, re-deploy to sector C-15 to process incoming tanker Sierra-Alpha-258."

The loudspeaker continued to blare a stream of instructions and orders, struggling to make itself heard over the cacophony of APC engines, spinning gantries, sirens, moving freight elevators, boat engines, and aircraft turbines.

Further contributing to the nightmarish din was the ever-present sound of coughs, cries, shouts, whimpers, and invectives as a constant stream of refugees were offloaded from cruise liners, flying boats, hydrofoils, Destroyers, VTOLs, jet-liners, and even containers strapped to the decks of mega-tankers.

Lighting came from thousands of overhead arc-lamps, normally used to light the way for loading and unloading crews processing freight from hydrofoil transports, or tankers. Warning lights flashed constantly, casting the whole scene in epileptic shades of amber at various intervals.

The view of the water was jammed solid with a morasse of water traffic, and the skies above buzzed with VTOLs.

The Earthgov Navy had even been forced to move a command and control vessel into the harbor just to mediate the sheer stream of traffic, which had overwhelmed even Manhattan's considerable communications suites.

The nightmare was alleviated somewhat once the stream of humanity had passed through decontamination, and medical central. Once their DNA was cross-checked with the system to ensure no serious criminal record, they were released if they so desired, or taken to a much more spacious temporary housing bloc, or finally to nearby hospitals, as necessary.

The temporary housing was incredibly spartan, and only those who had no other alternative were taking up residence there. Unfortunately, this was a significant portion of the population of the entire Azores.

The space was clean, well protected, warm, and food was being provided; but in the end it was simply large survival tents with electrodynamic heaters, small cots, and military rations. Residents weren't even being allowed to access the majority of their possessions, if they had managed to secure passage for anything more than the bags on their person. There simply wasn't enough space for anyone to bring more than the clothing on their backs into the camp.

The only alleviating factor was the decision to erect camps in several other locations on the Atlantic, preventing the entire population of the islands from being dumped onto New York's infrastructure.

But the word had come down; the evacuation was in its final stages. Lives were depending on the alacrity with which the faster ships and aircraft could be unloaded, so that they could make a final return trip.

The best statistical AI at Earthgov's disposal were saying that it was going to be down to a matter of minutes with the last evacuees. A domino effect at such a late stage would be disastrous beyond comprehension.

So the call had gone out; every news outlet in the entire greater-New York area had run the story; 'Volunteers needed!'

Hordes of off-duty soldiers, doctors, and military Police, hourly-wage workers, and even a steady stream of Manhattan's homeless element had inundated the central command post of the camp, offering to lift and shift materials, help process and treat the injured, and distribute rations. All without the expectation of compensation or thanks.

As the terrified, cold, radiation burned, starving mass of newly homeless humanity broke on New York like a tidal wave, the city answered with open arms. Other concerns were laid aside in the interest of saving lives; and so began the final push as the world began to end.

Equestrian Calendar: 2nd Month, 8th Day, Year 1002 PB (Post Banishment)
The Hour of Sunset
RES Ascendant with Royal Expeditionary Force
The Port Village of Pineapple Glen

Flux hadn't realized how much he needed to put his hooves back on solid ground until he actually felt grass and solidity again.

The Ascendant was a massive ship, but it still had a subtle pitch and sway in the breeze, and the Unicorn appreciated the chance to feel something under-hoof that was perfectly still.
It was also nice to have more space to walk about in, and to taste the bracing sea air.

It had been years since Flux had been near the coast, and he suddenly remembered why he loved it so much; the tang of the salt, the cry of gulls, the wind in the reeds mixed with the crash of waves...

Pineapple Glen was a quaint settlement, its only major attraction being the large titular Pineapple plantation is boasted. Few ships arrived at its small docks, and even then only to trade northland and Gryphic spices for the coastal tropical Pineapples.

The arrival of the expedition had more than doubled the small village's population, but no one was complaining. Many had chosen to eat and lodge for the night in the village rather than on the ships, bringing the town a revenue stream that, in one night, capped the amount it usually managed to net in an entire year.

As Flux continued to stroll along casually, he found himself instinctively drawn to the shore. The docks themselves were built in a natural harbor, with rocky protrusions that fell off straight into deep water. A little beyond, however, white sandy beaches and reedy dunes stretched away into the sea on one side, and light forests interspersed with marshes on the other.

Flux began idly trotting down the beach. He stopped every so often to look at the sunset, and during one of these pauses he was surprised to hear a voice over his shoulder.

"I don't often get to watch my sister's sunset from this kind of vantage."

Flux jumped, whirled, and bowed as quickly as he could force his forelegs to bend.
Luna shook her head, and walked past in an almost disinterested fashion, seating herself on her haunches just short of the tideline, "Come. Sit with me. I see you are troubled."

Flux's mouth worked its way open and shut, but no words came out. Luna spoke again, without looking over her shoulder, "Sit; I shall tell you what ails you."

With no other options left in his mind, Flux sat down hard, and nervously, in the sand next to the co-ruler of Equestria.

For several minutes Luna did not speak, she merely stared at the sun as it slowly dipped to the horizon. Finally, she stood. Flux hastily imitated the motion.

The ruler offered the scientist a glance, "What do you suppose I am, Flux? You are a studier of bodies and form are you not? In your professional estimation... what am I?"

Flux stammered, and eventually fell silent. If he provided a clinical answer, it would seem blasphemous. But if he provided the answer he wished to, he suspected Luna would decry it as incorrect. So he remained silent.

Luna walked slowly, demurely, to the top of the nearest dune, beckoning with a hoof for Flux to follow. The view to the East was no less spectacular than the view to the west; flat marshlands teeming with bullfrogs and dragonflies stretched away to forests in the distance.

"Have you ever seen this done in a ceremony?"

The words brought Flux up short. He barely managed to shake his head silently.
Luna nodded, "Good. My sister has a taste for theatricality that sometimes ends up self-defeating where her more subtle hopes and plans are concerned. You think us goddesses, as so many unfortunately do...? Then watch."

Luna fixed her eyes on the eastern horizon, pale blue orbs searching for just the right stars, presumably as a method of timing her actions.

All at once, her horn lit with an ethereal, piercing blue beam. At the same time, the moon began to break over the horizon, swiftly ascending to begin its nightly trek across the vast velvet expanse of stars.

As soon as the orb had cleared the horizon, Luna's horn faded. She turned to her charge and fixed him with her gaze, "What am I? Do you think such a task truly requires a goddess? It is true; the moon and I are connected... in a way we are one. But such it is with Earth Ponies, and the land beneath their hooves, or the Pegasi and Gryphons with the air they rule, or Dragons and the fire they can summon. Do we worship them for their unity with, and mastery of, these elements?"

Flux meekly shook his head.

Luna sighed, "Flux... We... *I* understand that you wish to accord myself, and my sister, respect. That we do not fault you for, all should learn to respect their leaders as well as you... but when respect turns to worship... Flux it *pains* us. Every time someone bows to me, and I see in their eyes the awe and worship that should be reserved for a deity accorded to me..."

Luna paused, and Flux, to his astonishment, noted a tear in the corner of her eye, "We wouldst rather thou look upon us as the Nightmare we once were, in honesty."

The Alicorn's broken slip into Classical speech patterns betrayed the roiling emotions present beneath her artificially calm tone.

"Think on what I've said." With that, Luna turned and strode away down the beach, leaving behind crescent shaped hoofprints that mirrored her moon above, and a torrent of confused emotions in her loyal subject.

Earth Calendar: 1/20/2102
18:30 GMT
ACV-10 UES Yorktown
1 NM West of The Azores

Technically, the man knew he was designated 'Active Component 93501-A.' Most of the time, however, he preferred his pseudonym, 'Mr. Sarac.' The thoroughly backstopped alias placed him as a level-7 agent within Earthgov Intelligence, and afforded him the chance to collect many important secrets on behalf of the Triumvirate.

As he stepped off the VTOL onto the Carrier's flight deck, he was promptly 'greeted,' by an angry looking man in his late fifties, dressed in the typical black double-breasted, navy trimmed uniform of the Navy. His shoulder bars and hat identified him as the Admiral in charge.

Sarac sighed inwardly. His brief had warned him that Admiral Thomas Laren was aggressive, no-nonsense, and effectively incorruptible. He was not an ideal component in the situation, and Mr. Sarac was hoping to bypass him as swiftly as possible.

The admiral beckoned, and took off down the deck towards the island without warning, forcing Sarac to make an undignified and somewhat dangerous dash to keep up, "I'm Admiral Laren. Welcome to Yorktown... now tell me why the hell they sent a spook into an active disaster zone. We don't have time for you, or your questions, or your fiddle-faddle concerns."

Sarac shook his head, "It's not a question of time Admiral. Central Intelligence merely wishes to ensure that certain vital security concerns are being respected aboard the ships of the fleet given the high concentrations of un-vetted civilians you're allowing onboard."

"Bull." At the Admiral's response, Sarac winced, "You dandified knife wielding jackanapes tell the truth about as often as I forget to flush the john in my sea-cabin. You brief me on your assignment or I will nail-gun your ass to the side of your little black helicopter and send you home with your drawers down."

Sarac snorted as the pair stepped into the safety of the island, "You don't have jurisdiction where I am concerned. I'm an independent component with government authorization to act autonomously."

Laren shrugged, "Fine by me. As long as you understand that on my ship, it's my rules, and your autonomy would do best to play by them... because we still keelhaul insubordinates, and this boat can stay under alot longer than one of you girls can hold your breath in your prissy little suits."

As the admiral strode away down the corridor he tossed off parting words, "I'll send someone to escort you. You get pissy? They'll toss you over the side. You need a ride anywhere? Has to be your bird, and your fuel, on your dime."

Sarac snorted and mumbled under his breath, "By your *leave.* 'Sir.' "

Comments

[Guardian_Gryphon]

1588686
gifsoup.com/webroot/animatedgifs/43418_o.gif
/You knew that was coming

Ok, so, we're up and running again.
SURPRISE garden party.
Enjoy... mwahahahaha

[KeePony]

I like the Admiral. Think we need more like in in real life :)

[MetBoy]

1595256
*puts away umbrella*
Odd, that's the second time I didn't get notification of a reply to one of my posts... (I /think/)
Also, xkcd there?
Also also, huh. I thought Discord was behind it. That sort of improbability seemed to be his sort of thing.
Also also also, I'm reminded by what someone said about 9/11, how only 20 or so terrorists stepped up, but HUNDREDS of heroes went into the burning towers.
Also also also also... *points at Sarac* THAT SPAH IS A SPAH! (someone had to say it)

[Guardian_Gryphon]

1596690

Yeah suh-PRISE... Discord ain't the culprit, but he has an idea of who might have an idea whodunit.

Also, apropos of the way I don't necessarily see Humans as 'basically good,' but don't take the 'two legs = always bad' view either;
I wanted to give Humanity some moments to shine out.

Well Sarac is smart; a spy disguised as another kind of spy. Its brilliant.

So where was the XKCD ref? I know I slid a Mario joke in there somewhere...
I *am* an XKCD fan so it may have happened unintentionally...

[MetBoy]

1596770
Stoping a train with BB guns

[Guardian_Gryphon]

1596811
Oh. Yes.
That's both an XKCD, and Armageddon reference.
I'd forgotten I slipped that in there....

[Westphalian_Musketeer]

It was always best to choose the first move carefully; aside form the wasted time cause dby an impatient move, introducing too much disharmony into the pattern would cause it to eventually form into a tightly-bound cage of energy, spells, and physical bonds, capable of entrapping even an Alicorn.

- 'From', and 'caused by'

Even if the Draconequus wasn't a popular image in art, there were other reasons that the particular statute before her was not fit for public viewing, despite the absolutely life-life detail it presented.

- life-like

Discord turned and gave her a sad puppy-eyes expression, "Do you think we should get counseling dear? I hear Cadence is a marvelous therapist.... then again, I also hear that princess is in another castle now..."

- Nothing wrong with this passage, it's just plain brilliant.

Hordes of off-duty soldiers, doctors, and military Police, hourly-wage workers, and even a steady stream of Manhattan's homeless element had inundated the central command post of the camp, offering to lift and shift materials, help process and treat the injured, and distribute rations. all without the expectation of compensation or thanks.

- Y'all need a capital here.
That said, this passage perfectly encompasses why I think this is the best TCB story.

[Guardian_Gryphon]

1598790
Ah thanks for that... not sure if Pre-reader fell asleep, or if GDocs is just being a pain again. (No, its that second one I'm pretty sure... Google doesn't know how to optimize for jack all.)

I take it the surprise Discord segment was enjoyable then?
I honestly had no clue I was going to do it until I reached it, and it suddenly clicked.
I've always known how he fits into everything, I had just never intended to bring him into it visibly for a conversation.
But it suddenly felt like it'd work very well in the moment.