Celestia's Last Rites
When I was a little boy, my parents once told me that rain wasn’t from storms, but from crying angels in Heaven. When I asked why the angels were crying, I was told it was because the angels couldn’t see the people of Earth when the clouds covered the sky. At the time, I thought this explanation made sense, and even when I grew up and knew better, the thought still brought me comfort.
I can’t imagine why the angels would be crying today.
Rain hammers the windshield, forcing the wipers to work overtime as my car drives itself through the prison’s main gates, coasting through the parking lot to get to my designated space, where the engine turns itself off, and the lights dim.
I sit in my seat, looking out at the rain, taking a few moments to gather myself.
I can do this…
My umbrella immediately sags under the deluge as I step out and limp towards the guest entrance, biting my tongue to stop a curse from escaping my lips; the cold is making my arthritis worse than usual. My medicine helps, but there is only so much that can be done on days like this. It’s so bad, in fact, that the pain almost makes me forget the cars and news vans trying to find a spot in the already-full lot.
The guards at the gates see me coming. I’ve been here so often that they sometimes let me through without checking my identification, but I will receive no such favors today: security is tighter than it's ever been, so the authorities will not risk anything happening to disrupt today’s proceedings.
Once my card is verified and my identity confirmed, the gates open and I continue on, trying to ignore the pain in my knees and hunched back. The gates close behind me with a heavy thud, finally muffling the storm, the silence a welcome relief as I slouch off my raincoat, taking in the all-too-familiar smell of white paint, sterile concrete, and recycled air pumped through the vents. Fifty years ago, I almost gagged at the smell when I entered this place for the first time to begin my ministry, but now it doesn’t even bother me.
The warden exits the office and gestures for me to follow him.
We head down the prison’s halls, passing the guest bathrooms. Wet splotches lie on the concrete leading to the door; tears from a guest seeing a family member for the last time, perhaps? Instinct and habit wants me to go inside those bathrooms, find the poor soul, and offer comfort, but I can’t, not today. Time is not on my side, and I can’t afford any distractions.
The warden escorts me through checkpoint after checkpoint, past fields put up by Thalmann generators that nullify any and all magic, until we arrive in the heart of the prison, the place where the worst of the worst are housed, far away from any windows, from the sun, from any possibility of escape. Here, standing before the door of the prison’s most secure cell, stands six men garbed head-to-toe in the heaviest combat armor available, wielding a massive laser rifle that could tear through five feet of steel. The hate in their eyes tells me they would love nothing more than to kick open the cell behind them and open fire, but these men are here to guard, not to kill, as I am bound by my own vows to bring comfort and a path towards salvation for God’s wayward children.
I remain still as I’m scanned several times to make sure I don’t have anything on me besides the Bible in my hands and the crucifix hanging around my neck. I’ve gone through this process thousands of times before and this one is no different, save for the sweat gathering on my forehead, and my heart pounding faster than usual.
The guards pay no heed. They think I’m nervous. Anyone would be if they stood in my place.
Let them think that.
The scan is completed, and the warden lowers his face to a scanner besides the vault-like door. His eye is scanned, and then he enters a twelve-digit security code. Only then does the door unlock and grinds open.
The cell is open before me, waiting for me to enter. I am like the Savior descending into Hell to minister to the lost. But unlike Him, I do not have His courage, nor His strength of will.
Taking a deep breath, I walk inside.
The cell is much like others I’ve been in before: bare concrete, a steel cot, a sink, a toilet, and a light embedded in the ceiling behind shatter-proof plexiglass. It’s an ordinary cell designed to confine and contain wayward souls.
The soul sitting before me is anything but ordinary.
Princess Celestia is a shadow of her former self: her lifeless mane lies flat at her side, her dusty, grimy coat sags from stress, and her once-proud and noble face is wet from fresh tears forming a puddle on the floor beneath her muzzle. Her horn is gone, and her wings are bare and plucked. Yet, Celestia shows no emotion, no recognition that I’ve entered. It’s the shock of someone being lost in their world, trapped within regrets, what-ifs, and wondering if they could have done anything different.
Her eyes… they’re full of grief, sorrow, and weariness beyond all endurance. It’s a gaze I’ve seen too many times in my parishioners, my friends, and those who aren’t of my flock who come to me for comfort, for help, where they beg me for a reason why God didn’t save their loved ones in the worst war humanity has ever endured.
This monster is the architect of all that sorrow.
The princess doesn’t look at me as the warden leaves. Nor does she doesn’t react as the door swings shut, the locks sealing the two of us inside.
I’ve seen Celestia before, but only on television screens, propaganda posters and fliers from her followers. I’ve followed news of her campaign against us, of her capture, her trial, and when the justice system finally sentenced her to death. But never, not once, did I imagine that I would be in the same cell as her.
I stand before a devil. A broken, defeated, battered devil, but a devil nonetheless.
Breathing deeply, I take a seat beside her.
“You’re a holy man,” Celestia whispers, her voice empty and drained. It’s like listening to a robot.
I nod.
“I cannot imagine there would be many willing to extend mercy to me.”
“All of God’s children deserve guidance,” I say, “no matter how far they have fallen.”
Celestia isn’t moved. “I have lost all that I care about,” she whispers. “My kingdom, my citizens, and the respect of those I loved.” She turns away.
It’s tempting to leave. Dear God, it’s tempting to just leave her here to drown in her sorrows. She deserves nothing less... but I cannot leave, not until my task is completed.
“I have learned that talking about what hurts us can help us heal.” I say.
I wait.
Celestia turns back towards me, staring at the floor.
“Are you aware of what you’ve done that’s led you to this point?” I ask.
Celestia nods.
“Do you feel any sorrow or repentance for what you did?”
“I regret leading my ponies into a war we could not win,” Celestia says. “I regret that so many lives on both sides have been lost, and the misery and suffering that I inflicted on your species and mine. But I do not regret doing what I had to do.”
“Do you fear hell?”
“No.”
“Then you must be very brave.”
“I have lived for over a thousand years,” Celestia says. “I have watched countless beings die. My sis...” She pauses, her face aging a few more years in a few seconds. “My sister sometimes was in the dreams of those who died in their sleep. She did not see any angels coming to take them, any tunnels of light, and she did not see their spirits depart. They just faded away.”
“So you believe there’s nothing, then.”
“Yes.”
“And what if you’re wrong? What if there is something beyond this life, and you are judged and sent to a place of eternal torment for your crimes?”
“I had the responsibility to protect my ponies from those who would have subjugated them.”
I bite my lips. “Only God has the right to decide our fates. And you are no god.”
“I did not set out to destroy your people,” Celestia says. “I saw how flawed and warlike you were. I wanted to save my ponies, and to save you all from yourselves.”
I should be patient with her. I’m supposed to be the calm shepherd tending to a lost lamb... but I feel no compassion towards this abomination, this defiler who has caused so much suffering.
“I have had to comfort so many over the past few years,” I say. “Families who have lost their loved ones. Wives whose husbands were turned into New Foals. Children who will never see their parents again. Would you be willing to go before them and tell them that you took their loved ones for their own good?”
Celestia doesn’t answer.
I wait.
The leader of Equestria meets my gaze. She’s studying me.
She studies at my crucifix.
I wipe the sweat from my brow.
“What is your name?” she asks.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes,” Celestia says softly.
I shouldn’t tell her. She doesn’t deserve such courtesy.
“Jacob,” I finally say.
“Jacob... You weren’t sent here to see me, were you?”
“A call went out for someone to deliver last rites to you,” I say. “I volunteered.”
“Even though you hate me.”
“I hate none.”
“But I’ve seen your face. Your eyes.”
“We haven’t met before.”
“No. We haven’t. But I know the face of those who have lost everything.”
My hands shake.
“Jacob, why did you come here?” Celestia asks.
I shouldn’t tell her. She doesn't deserve to know. I should just get this ov... No. No. I’ll tell her. I’ll tell her so she knows, so she understands.
“Before the war, I had... I had a family. I had a wife... the most beautiful, loving, supportive wife someone could ever ask for. And with her, I was blessed with two beautiful daughters. When your kind came to Earth, we didn’t know what to think. Neither did most of us. I figured that, even though you weren’t mentioned by God in His book, you were still His children. I hoped our kind could live together in peace. My daughters, in particular, wanted to make friends with your ponies. But then you attacked us. My family were... were...”
Something in Celestia changes. She stiffens slightly, as if realizing what I’m about to say.
“I was told what happened: When they were turned, they attacked the soldiers assigned to protect them. They killed two of them before the last one grabbed his gun and... and...”
It’s silent in the cell.
I breathe deeply. “My family murdered two people. And because they died before they recognized their sins and repented, they are damned. They will never see Paradise.” I glare at Celestia. “You sent my family to hell.”
The devil beside me doesn’t speak. She doesn’t protest, doesn’t try to proclaim her innocence. She just stares at me like a stupid animal.
I can’t stop myself from shaking.
Celestia’s eyes go to my crucifix, which she studies for a long moment.
“I have survived many assassination attempts during my life,” Celestia says at last. “The one that almost succeeded was carried out by a pony who hid a knife inside a symbol of his faith.”
I grab the top of the knife and ya-
A hoof places itself on my hand. “Jacob... Your god would know that your family were not themselves when they died. No just god would send them to hell.” She indicates my knife. “But if you take my life, then you will be guilty of murder. You will never see Paradise. And if your family is there, you will never see them again, and they will never see you.”
I won’t listen to her. I won’t let this bitch stop me! I will see her blood on the floor; I will watch her scream as I send her soul to the fire! I will ensure she dies before she feels any regret, before she can confess and ask forgi-
“Jacob, I can’t bring your family back... but I can save you.”
I laugh. “Save me?!”
She gently pulls on the crucifix. “Give me the knife.”
I pull back.
“Jacob, please.”
Her voice is calm and controlled. She looks concerned. Worried, even, but I’m not fooled! Even Satan can impersonate an angel of the Lord.
“What would your family want you to do?”
I stop.
“Would they want you to do this?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. My hands shake. I… I… No! No, I won’t let her stop me!
I open my eyes and yank out the knife. I’ll kill this abomination and ensure that she goe-
Something hits me.
I fall onto cold, hard concrete.
Wha-
I hear yells. Shouts. A door being thrown open. Tasers go off, and Celestia collapses beside me. A jackboot hits her, and then again, over and over until blood-soaked teeth fly against the wall.
Hands grab me, strong, powerful hands that quickly pull me to my feet. Everything’s a blur, the pain overwhelming, my mouth feeling like it’s burning.
The guards leave the cell, dragging Celestia with them, hitting her again and again with the butts of their rifles, yelling obscenities and curses as they drag her down the hall, purposefully stepping on her tail as they go.
“Father?!”
I look to the voice. It’s the warden. He’s shaking me.
“Father, are you okay!? We’ve called the medics; they’re on their way.” He looks down the hall. “Where the hell are they?!”
My… My knife; it’s still in my hand. I ram it into my robes. “What… What happened?”
“Father, I’m so sorry. I should have sent a guard in with you.”
“What… happened?”
“She kicked you.” The man curses, rubbing his face. “Stupid, so stupid.”
“She… attacked me?”
“Yes. But don’t worry. You’re safe now.”
I pull myself free and start down the hall.
“Father, you need medical attention!”
“I need to see her.”
“No. You-”
“I need to see her!” I scream.
I’ve never screamed at the Warden before, or anyone else in this place. He recoils, so shaken that he falls silent. I turn and keep going, limping down the hall as I use my sleeve to wipe blood from my face.
***
We are instructed by our Maker to forgive others. We are told to let go of our hates and to not judge lest we be judged. Vengeance is God’s, and He will repay. Before my family died, I truly believed those words. I did my best to live by those principles. But even the strongest faith is no shield against grief. Prayer did nothing to lessen mine. Throwing myself into my work did nothing. Only when grief finally gave way to hate, anger, and rage did I find my purpose again: to send Celestia to the fire before she could repent and get God’s forgiveness. I’ve seen it happen, seen prisoners suddenly and truly repent when they are seconds from death.
I won’t give Celestia that chance.
The gate leading to the prison’s courtyard appears. With one last wipe of my sleeve I grab hold and shove the gate open, staggering out into the storm. I join the thousands of humans and ponies packed into the stands and bleechers erected for this event. Guard towers with laser turrets stand at the ready should Celestia try to flee, and cameras broadcast the event to stations around the world.
No one takes notice of me as I stagger forward, the rain washing away the last of my blood. The guards are chaining the princess to a pole in the center of the courtyard, taking care to ensure the chains and cuffs dig into her skin; Celestia winces, but doesn’t cry out.
They won’t try to stop me. They’ll let a kindly old priest come up to give Celestia her last rites.
Satisfied that Celestia is secured, the guards retreat. And as they do, twelve marines march forth, each carrying the most powerful laser rifle the military has to offer.
This is it; just walk forward, pretend to give Celestia her last rights, a few last words of comfort, and then stab the knife into her jugular. A twist, a yank, and I’ll send her blood gushing onto the wet grass. I-
“Priest.”
A soldier steps before me.
“Stand aside,” I hiss.
“No.”
“I need to see her!”
“You need to see a medic,” the guard says.
“No! You don’t understand! I need to talk to her!”
A delegation walks before a microphone, headed by the head of the UN. She takes out a paper and reads a prepared statement about how Celestia will now be executed, listing off her crimes and all those who have died because of her war. I hear the words but pay them no heed. I have to get past this imbecile and get to Celestia! If I fail, if she repents, I will never forgive myself! And all that stands before me is this one guard!
I try to get around him, to-
My knees give out, pain shooting through them. I almost scream as I crumple.
No! No, not now! Not now!
The guard kneels beside me, trying to comfort me. I ignore him, trying to stand, but... I can’t! Damn these knees! Damn these worthless legs!
The speech finishes up, and the delegation steps back. A drummer raps his drum, and the leader of the marines calls out for her soldiers to ready their weapons.
A dozen rifles are raised and take aim at Celestia.
No! No, no, no!
The cheers from the crowd are deafening. I try one last time to lurch up, but the guard grabs my shoulder and forces me down. I try to flail at him, to shove him back; she’s so close! So close! I can’t risk her repenting! I can even see her from here, see the bruises and cuts on her body and the blood trickling from her mouth.
I can see her eyes.
Celestia, alone, wet, surrounded by thousands of beings who will celebrate her death, looks at the rifles. There is no anger in those eyes. There is no despair, no grief, and no defiance. There is only acceptance.
She... She’s not going to ask for forgiveness.
And then, as if something has nudged her, the former leader of Equestria looks to me.
Her eyes meet mine.
I no longer hear the roar of the crowds. I don’t feel the overwhelming pain in my decrepit body, the cold of the rain soaking my robes, or even the guard holding me down.
Celestia just looks at me. She doesn’t plead for help. She doesn’t plead for mercy. She doesn’t try to get away.
We watch each other.
A flash of light fills the air.
Celestia’s still watching me as her body erupts into superheated ash that vanishes among the rain.
A roar louder than any storm fills the air as the crowd goes berserk, cheering and screaming and clapping and hugging each other.
Princess Celestia, the ruler of Equestria, the murderer responsible for billions of deaths, and the most hated tyrant in history, is dead.
***
I barely heard the medics hurrying to me. I didn’t resist as they got me onto a stretcher and took me to the medical wing, where they looked me over and determined that I had a broken nose. Once the morphine was administered, my nose treated, and an appointment scheduled with my doctor to try and get some stronger medicine for my arthritis, they wheeled me out to my car, remarking how lucky I was to still be breathing: not many people can take a hoof to face and walk away.
I said nothing.
When we reached my car, I was able to get out and drag myself into the driver’s seat. Once the doors were closed and the guards were convinced that I was okay, they went back to the prison, leaving me to let the auto-driver take me home.
That was two hours ago.
All the media vans, official cars, and witnesses to Celestia’s execution have left. I’m the last one here.
Night’s falling. Rain still pours down, streaking down my windshield like tears pouring down a cheek.
For years I dreamed of sending Celestia to Hell. I wanted Lucifer to torture her for all eternity, and I came here today to make it happen. I came not to offer hope and a chance of redemption, but with murder and hate in my heart.
The rain keeps pouring.
Is Celestia in Hell now? I have no way of knowing: Christ himself said that Hell is real, and that those who do not care for others will go there with the devil and his angels... and yet... the soul I met today had only tried to do what was right for her people in her eyes. When I tried to kill her, she could have shattered my skull, but only hit me hard enough to knock me back, knowing full well that the noise would bring the guards running.
Celestia’s last act in life was to show mercy to a man who hated her more than anything, to save him from committing one of the worst sins anyone can do.
I stare out the windshield towards the endless desert. It’s dark now, and will only get darker as the night goes on. And as I do, a thought comes to me: perhaps my parents were right; maybe the angels really are crying.
They’re weeping for a soul who has lost his way.
God... what do I do?
The rain comes down harder.
Killing Celestia was the last thing I had in my life, the last thing I could clutch like a life raft in a stormy sea. But now even that is gone, and I have nothing. At the end of her life, Celestia had lost everything. In a way, the two of us were alike: two lost souls who had lost everything they cared about… but even when at the very end of her life, Celestia made a choice to help another.
Perhaps… Perhaps I can do the same.
Reaching down, I turn on the engine and engage the auto-driver.
I’m old. My body is wearing out, and I don’t know how much time I have left on this earth. But as I have preached to my congregation, our Maker is just, but also merciful. If we truly repent and try to make amends for what we have done, we will be guided towards the light. There are many like me out there, people who have nothing but hate toward the Equestrians for taking everything and everyone from them. I know that feeling. I know how all-consuming it is, and I hope I can get to those souls before they fall as I have. And if I can reach them... then maybe I can find my way back.
If my Maker is merciful, my family will be waiting for me.
With a quiet hum, the car pulls out of the parking lot and heads down the long and lonely road.
The rain continues to fall, but it doesn't seem quite as heavy as before.
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As long as my moon mom is fine, I don't care.
this was an interesting story. I enjoyed the somewhat different take on the war. Humanity wins, but it's bloody. Celestia loses but regrets only the fact that HER ponies suffered. It shows how both evil and good that sort of mentality can be. The Celestia here reminds me of a saner Hitler.
Their methods are similar, but purposes different. Hitler started his war, because he hated others, (supposedly) loved his country, and wanted the wrongs he perceived righted. Celestia starts the war, because she wanted to improve lives. Yet both led to war, both led to death.
Would one single act of good in a life time of sin grant you salvation? Maybe. Maybe not. A single act of good, however, could possibly save another from damnation.
I never liked Celestia getting the ax for what she did in the conversion wars. this story not her execution is just Petty
11140505
You... do realize she's dead in this universe, right?
11140754
"executing someone for the death of one planet and attempted genocide on anther is petty" -Tempest_Flare 2022
11140869
It is not genocide if they do not die but are transformed it is death of identity a much more nuanced problem. I agree that Celestia should pay but getting the ax is a little too much especially since she is immortal and something like that would never actually kill her.
I'm saying she should be banished to the moon/someplace similar forever. Yes in this world people did die but it isn't a complete genocide as you are thinking. We have not seen what the author actually has in their head I.E. what the numbers of dead actually were and if the ponies that were converted could regain their old identities, as I said a much more nuanced problem.
I get that sometimes nuanced problems should have simple solutions but my solution is just as simple while allowing Celestia to wallow in her guilt as long as she lives which would be forever. It is petty to give her a mercy which death is to her. Even if she does not repent for forgiveness she should suffer for her immortal Life.
Tldr: death is a mercy that someone such as Celestia in these stories does not deserve. She should wallow forever in her guilt crushed at what she has done and how many she led to their deaths. Not giving her the mercy of the sweet release.
11140869
And if I am being honest I meant how the preacher was acting, that's just Petty, wanting revenge. Although he did see the light in the end. I should have separated what I wrote by a period, as they are two different things in my opinions on both were different. I have a problem with figuring out where one of my sentences ends and another begins until after I look at a comment or something I have wrote that is my bad.
11140885
because banishments and "100% secure imprisonments" /ever/ work yes absolutely. See Tirek, Chrysalis, /Nightmare Moon/ who if you recall also had plans to wipe out the entire planet in much the same way it ends up dying. While there is life there is hope, and that works both ways. So long as she lives she remains a threat to the lives of everyone else, there will always be a chance that extremists will rally to that obvious banner, hell in the negotiationsverse this is set in alone there's already plenty ready to go down because "Celestia is on our side:" taking her out takes the wind out of their sails and would save lives. Further Alicorns aren't immortal in this universe (at least not the all encompassing immortality you seem to be assuming): Luna, Cadence, and Flurry Heart are all dead at this point: Luna dying in Jerusalem and the latter two in the nuking of the Crystal Empire.
Also genocide as defined by international law:
n the present Convention, genocide means any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such:
(source https://www.un.org/en/genocideprevention/genocide.shtml)
I think you'll find Celestia's actions would certainly hit bullet points four and five if nothing else especially since her stated aim was to get rid of humanity.
tldr: the vindictive "make her suffer forever" idea isn't worth the eventuality of her escape because really it's a matter of when, not if, banished problems make a return especially if they're ageless (as the alicorns do certainly seem to be) or especially long lived. Any anti-Celestia precautions (Thalmann generators, monitoring equipment, guards etc) require upkeep that people six generations down the line might question paying out, not to mention boot up time in the case of the generators and the amount of magic she'd still possess for some time with them (see Luna in Jerusalem). Given also the track records of Alicorns going on insane destructive crusades after being neglected it's far more likely that when she escapes she'll have learned nothing and be highly aggressive, possibly also towards ponykind.
I appreciate your clarification on "this /story/ is petty" versus her execution being petty, however I recommend adding a subject to the second sentence as well: if there's no subject (aside from the pronoun "this") the only thing readers have to go on is the context of your last sentence. "I never liked Celestia getting the ax for what she did in the conversion wars. this is just Petty" reads as my comment (and incidentally such pronoun game misunderstandings are how romcoms function)
11140903
This is not the original author of the conversion stories and it is only hinted that this war had casualties unlike the original story which did not have any from what I can tell.
Since I have not seen if this author has any other works in this universe I am basing all of my interpretation off of this one story. With that context I asked that you understand why I am saying that allowing Celestia to wallow in her own guilt will cause her to create a prison of her own mind. One she will never leave or at least won't leave until far after humanity has either forgotten or has died out.
11140907
That's from the full description of this fic: all my evidence from the time Equestria is on Earth is from the Negotiationsverse canon, canon which given the following:
seems to be in line at least with the fate of Luna. In the show through Luna we've seen what neglect alone can do to an Alicorn psyche, now consider what might happen if they're that isolated while also crushed under the grief and rage that comes with the death of their entire family. I get where you're coming from and do understand your argument, I just think it's an unnecessary risk not worth irresponsibly gambling peoples' lives over.
11140918
I am sorry but I do not like reading these stories where Celestia is well meaning but evil out of ignorance that is why I do not read any of the conversion stories if I cannot help it let's see it on the featured box got me wondering what it was like.
11140920
Then why are you here?
11140976
I caught in the features box I typically at least take a brief glance at what's in the features box plain and simple
It's nice to see this get featured!
Still don’t know how I feel about the negotiations verse. It started out as pretty cool war of necessity thing but then quickly turned into a black and white WW2 allegory and I think that ruined it. Cool story though.
11140620
Actually, she states she regrets the death and suffering on both sides. She just says she isn't sorry for what she did.
Wow, Celestia get hated by the fans today, right?
They only want to get rid that white alicorn as soon as they can 
Anyway, negotiation - verse is just a HFY universe though.
11141171
O, tho saying she isn’t sorry kinda makes me question that regret
11140903
The thing that's always bothered me about the Xenolestia wing of TCB stories is the way they tend to downplay/marginalize Equestrian sources of resolution. The Elements of Harmony could work just fine on Xenolestia, but authors from this wing of TCB don't seem to allow that, which is a major break from MLP values/methods.
Personally, I would love to see a story where Equestrian reformation works on Xenolestia and Earth... has to deal with it.
This is very well written.
11141256
That’s what happens when you make “humanity” a character. It’s easier to make humanity “the good guy” and the ‘other’ the “bad guy”.
As for this story: it’s… eerily righteous in a “we are going to kill you all to save your souls”-way.
This is extremely well written, and I especially loved the opening lines.
I love the fact the Celestia says absolutely nothing when the priest asks her how she felt about the millions of families she was responsible for tearing apart. The same exact thing Celestia kept spewing out about what humans wound do to ponies with her propaganda during the war. And what does she say?
Nothing.
She can't even acknowledge that everything she accused humans of doing during the was was ultimately carried out by her
11141719
Celestia genuinely believed what she she was doing and wouldn't see or repent or reconsider her actions.
She ruled too long and it shows. It was all about maintaining status quo with her in top. Crazy to the end.
11141412
You can't exactly make humanity the bad guy at all when ponies come in and commit genocide. It's happening in Xinjiang as we speak. The difference is, ponies are doing it with butterflies and rainbows and potions. It's still genocide.
It's petty clear cut when it comes to genocide.
11140885
Dude, it's genocide. It's the literal destruction of a race. In this TCBverse, all converted ponies are sterile and are controllable. Celestia doesn't even want humanity you carry on as ponies. It's disgusting and vindictive and evil.
11141256
They'd still kill her. You can't just go from genocide then "Okay, I'm good now. You have to deal with it!".
11141134
Ww2 doesn't have a monoply. See Saddam Hussein for his crimes.
And what were you wanting anyway?
11141730
Mmmmm... Imagine a situation where the Elements of Harmony worked on Xenolestia. Now she's just terrified, haunted, painfully repentant Celestia. Imagine Twilight is alive, or even worse, Luna still is. Ponies who still have faith the Elements see the return of Equestrian values and the triumph of their system. Twilight has her mentor back. Luna has her sister.
Then humans kill Celestia. Not Xenolestia. Celestia.
11141724
Comments like this are why I don't discuss TCB stories.
11141821
She still committed the acts. She'd still have to get a trial and the ponies that still carried out the acts still have to be punished. Simply saying, "It's okay now, she'd good again" is NOT going to be accepted. Especially on a genocide on that global scale.
The problem with your position, is that it wasn't an alter ego, it was Celestia herself. She chose to do these things. A trial and the imprisonment/execution of her and the ponies with mass sanctions is required.
11141846
Why? I've done nothing more than defend my position. Genocide is pretty much clear cut. There's nothing benevolent about the TCB. There's nothing misguided about Celestia's motivation. It's based on hate and a preservation of what SHE wants, not what's best for ponykind's needs.
The comments on this story are pure gold
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11141853
I would disagree with the last part of your comment and say that it wasn't Celestia's personal wants, but the cold, psychopathic objective reality: Not having competitors is good for a race/species/anythingreally.
Thus, ponykind is objectively better off without humans.
11141968
By what? Killing them? Converting them?
You're not making your case here. You can't claim alter egos because you committed evil acts. Thats a bullshit excuse. And ponies can't claim "we were just following orders". That's unacceptable in our modern time.
Humanity isn't going to be a victim of genocide and go kick rocks because ponies say so, after said ponies committed genocide.
11141848
This is exactly what I was talking about. In Xenolestia TCB stories the Earth justice system is always superior to the Equestrian justice system. This is what I was originally lamenting. Because if ponies get to Xenolestia first, and she gets subjected to the pony system first (Elements of Harmony, etc.), and ponies think this is perfectly acceptable because that's how Friendship is Magic works...
The conflict between and discussion about the two worlds having different outlooks on justice systems would make for a great story. But few TCB stories go anywhere near this topic, and I feel that this avoidance cheapens the stories' My Little Pony roots.
So, I'm making an assumption on your thinking behind this statement, because it has been a very common one over the years, and... You really don't want to get into the freight tanker-full of cans of worms that is comparing Nightmare Moon's exact mental/personality state to Xenolestia's, in addition to how exactly the Elements can/cannot work to reform either of them, just so the Elements can have meaningful impact on Luna but not Celestia.
11141961
Who knew having a sympathetic leaning on a genocidal character would generate such a response?
Honestly, this story is indeed best served as non canon. It really tried to make her as a reasonable but simply misguided individual. She's anything but that. She's either delusional from having lived so long or simply just wanted to maintain her status quo. Either isn't better then the other. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. And damn, Celestia made one hell of a highway with magic and rainbows with sugar sprinkled on top.
Even more, it's portrayed to make her look better by trying to convince a man of God, with a murderous intent, as the fallen one and she SAVES him by challenging him with his beliefs. As if somehow, she's been good all along. It's insidious as f***.
In addition, there's always this under tone from the ponies that they're somehow superior, despite having committed genocide. Twilight made a reference to this in Negotiation verse story by saying, "We were wrong, even if Humanity is flawed."
Like, wow, she learned nothing at all on her deathbed. Ponies are no better than humanity. If anything, they're worse than humanity because they had all this advantage of magic and allegedly better quality of life and yet, were able to get along with other races on Equis AND all these Friendship lessons. But somehow, they couldn't do the same with Humanity?
In the story, Celestia says she doesn't regret what she had to do. Only that "both sides were hurt". Umm, no you didn't have to at all. In fact, with allegedly how bad humanity is, ponies we're either welcomed with open arms in peace or confusion with apprehension.
But no hostile actions were taken at all against them. They were quite frankly, humanity was extremely tolerant with the bureaus existing at all. That was a major red flag, more red than a marxist blushing. I just can't see the logic of "humanity bad!".
It's why I have no sympathy for the ponies in this version, and people who do, read these stories take the wrong lessons from them. That needs to be challenged.
11142080
You know. If that universe base on real TCB, you can't fight Celestia by brawl though. And look, we got a Celestia who dumpy to make a war with human, with a dumpy reason. Sorry but the real TCB Celestia will never do that.
Like I said, Negotiation -verse is just a HFY.
11142100
TCBs by their definition are genocide.
11142191
Yep. But original one don't put a hoof on human world or make a war, so you can't have a reason to fight them. Celestia will be sit there and watch the human world dying without any blood dripping.
People really like making Celestia out to be a tyrant... despite there being absolutely no trace of evidence to support it.
Is it because she's white?
11141997
Oh! Well ok then! (BLOW LUNA'S F'ING BRAINS OUT!!)
Nightmare Moon was OBVIOUSLY just Luna, riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight?
HUMANS can't claim 'alter-egos' because we don't live in a magical world where mind-control ghosts and demons are a thing. But ponies live in a magical world where such things are reality. That claim IS valid until it can be proven false. I would assume a 'real' Equestria would have tests for the presence of such things... but fanfic writers tend to struggle to maintain any sense of plausibility in their 'Darkquestria' wangst-fest stories.
They change only the tone of the world, BUT NONE OF THE DRASTIC CAUSALITY ALTERATIONS THIS WOULD LEAD TO.
It's very lazy writing.
11141724 And yet so many humans are still kissing Xi's ass...
If Xenolestia promised Gates and Soros a pile of cash, they'd jump on board the Genocide Express. So would the entire World Economic Forum.
Stop being naive. A HUGE number of humans would behave EXACTLY like Xenolestia if they had magical powers.
11142235
Agreed that's why I'm thinking rn if I was a part of the army that captured her I would've just lost it and massacred every pony I can see without a sense of remorse and guilt while shouting BLOOD FOR FREEDOM,
11142235
That's certainly true. I mean, imagine Stalin or Mao with a conversion potion: Comrade in a bottle, 100% proof, will turn people into loyal Communists. Or Hitler with a barrier of doom; it only kills non-Aryans. Not to mention the whole "banality of evil" deal, the Munch experiment and so on, where even common people are capable of horrible things with the proper motivations.
Except the whole problem with TCB stories is that Celestia is doing these things, which as you said most people would do - and yet is still claiming a position of absolute moral superiority and right to decide the fates of billions of people. Basically, she's doing what is generally regarded as horrible, horrible things and yet claims she's superior to humanity because she's the one doing these things for a good cause. The ends do not justify the means.
11141968
And one can make the similar argument that humans would be better off without ponies - and yet, in the aftermath of Equestria's defeat in Negotiations, they didn't immediately slaughter every pony in sight.
And somehow, the ponies were perfectly fine sharing their world with griffins, dragons, elks, minotaurs, kirin, seaponies, breezies, donkeys, diamond dogs, and so on and so forth, many of whom were actual historical predators of ponies... and yet they drew the line at humans... why?
11142397
Ironically said barrier would also end up killing him, as well as a good number of Nazis, as only a fraction of em fit the "Aryan" mold. Hell, as Tolkien pointed out, the Indo-Aryans are closer to Iran and such IRRC
11142204
She's still converting humans and influencing the world to convert. A slow, coordinated non violent death is still genocide.
11142413
Not unless the barrier is suited to his definition of aryian race.
11142413
True. But not if he was inside the barrier as it expanded outwards.
But my point is, if Hitler had a weapon that could kill everyone he deemed an inferior, he'd have used it. Which says volumes about Xenolestia's methods.
If she truly wanted to claim the moral high ground, there were other ways to do it.