The Admiral's Choice

by Salocin

The Early Sunrise

Far outside any city, deeply nestled in pine forests, lay a gravel road. It was eerily dark and quiet, as though someone had muted all the animals and other inhabitants of rural Severyana. The only visible lights came from a quiet observatory on a mountain. It was the sole structure visible for miles, and the telescope protruding from its rift on the roof was clearly discernible, even in the chronic absence of light, except for the stars above.

Inside the observatory, a pony sat at a desk, adjusting the angle, lens, and height of the telescope he operated. He carefully observed a nearby object, analyzing its properties and movement. He had never been told what it was, except that it was most certainly artificial. Nonetheless, he had taken this job with grace and genuine ambition to find out its nature. Theories ran rampant in his head, and with no further orders coming from the Ministry, he continued his surveys. However, even with all the enthusiasm in the world, it faded in light of simple tiredness. The pony with blue fur was prepared to lay down his work and go to sleep.

"Just about done with my shift. What a crazy day," the pegasus noted with a mix of exhaustion and relief. However, just before he rolled back the reflecting telescope into the copula, he took one last look at the object through one of the highest-resolution reflective telescopes the Department of Proletarian Science and Education could afford. Once the telescope had settled into its ideal position, he finally saw it again—the anomalous object he had been tasked to observe and study. Yet, out here, far from rural Stalliongrad, he received scant information. The only line of communication was a single telescope.

"Still above Stalliongrad, aren't you?" he said with a faint smile. Just as he was about to withdraw his gaze, he noticed something unsettling. The wedge-like ship began to intensify in luminosity.

"L-Light?" he stammered, moving even closer with his eye, practically pressing it into the telescope's viewing tube. Once the telescope had settled into its ideal position, he finally saw the object clearly, and his jaw dropped.

He rushed to the table where his communication equipment lay, his heart pounding with panic. Frantically, he spun the number wheel, attempting to contact the ministry.

"F-FUCK!" he exclaimed in frustration, dialling the wrong number, his trembling hooves causing mistakes. He stomped the ground in anger and had to start from the beginning again. After several agonizing seconds, he finally dialled the correct number.

"Come on. Come on, please, by Celestia, please," the native Severyanian pleaded desperately as he waited for someone to answer his call. But the line remained silent. With each passing moment, his hope dwindled.

In that moment of despair, a blinding light engulfed the surroundings, transforming the dark, starlit night into a horrifying imitation of daytime—an early sunset filled with foreboding.

The pegasus's eyes widened as he witnessed the trees illuminated from the observatory window, their eerie glow casting ominous shadows. He rushed outside, his hooves sinking into the snow-covered ground, and turned his gaze toward Stalliongrad. Through the treetops, he beheld a colossal mushroom cloud ascending into the sky. A powerful gust of wind swept through, carrying with it a sense of devastation.

As a pegasus, he intimately understood wind breeze and how it was supposed to feel but this one carried a chilling prescience, shaking him to his core. The realization struck him like a thunderbolt—his home was in ruins. This was not the work of Changeling weaponry or Equestrian machinations. It was a cataclysm on an unimaginable scale, and he couldn't bear the thought of witnessing the complete obliteration of Stalliongrad.

And so he stood there, paralyzed by shock and grief, his eyes fixated on the towering mushroom cloud that loomed higher, engulfing the horizon in an ever-expanding display of tragedy.