The City’s awake like an insomniac reaching for the last caffeine tablet just out of the reach.
The eternal day keeping the citizens of Canterlot awake and badly rested. Ever since The Sister had been cast away, the Sun has laid upon the sky of the world without rest. When it was the time for the long-gone Moon to rise, the Sun merely laughed at its sister and changed direction, heading back to the direction it had risen. It would have been more pragmatic to have it hung eternally at the peak, but that would have been dull. The movement of the ball of light gave hope. Hope that was… quite pleasurable to see being chipped away every time the ball changed directions.
But enough of hope and the ball of light, they are not relevant at the subjective moment.
What was relevant at the subjective moment was a unicorn. She was part of the generation that had grown under the Solar Day that the Sol Invictus had graced her glorious Solar Empire. They only knew of Night from the hushed stories of the elders, and it was terrible. Dark and filled with terrible beasts and death and Her, the Empress’ dreadful sister. No one dared to speak her name, lest the Empress send for them and never be seen again.
Like had happened with the unicorn’s—our subjective protagonist’s—family. Her birth mother one day never came back from shopping. Her father disappeared from his bed a few years after that, soon after which the rest of the herd left her. She grew to hate the light. The light which had taken her family from her. With her Origins of "Day" and "Night" she grew to hate the light.
And so, one day she walked. She didn’t know exactly where she was going. Only that she was moving. And moving was something. She was exhausted. Tired, one could even say. Not physically, mind you, she was in an excellent physical health especially for a unicorn. Mentally though, she was quite tired. She wanted outside of the City. Away from the light. So that day—or night, as it would have/should have/could have been—she walked.
Without noticing, she had arrived to her father’s herd’s former house. That is to say, her father’s house. She hadn’t been back there since the herd had left her. She turned away after recognising the building, afraid it would stir up the memories she had buried. She quickly began to run, as the memories began stirring, and ignored the ponies that leaned out of their windows and told her to keep quiet lest she brought the attention of the Empress to her—or to them.
Our subjective protagonist barely noticed as she ran that the store fronts and houses gave way to warehouses. Warehouses to abandoned factories. Factories to slums. She’d ran for an unimportant amount of time. The outskirts. Ponies didn’t visit the area much those days. Perhaps because it was much cooler there—almost pleasant—she wondered. She slowed down to a trot, then stopped and frowned. She had half-expected that she would feel better. More free. Less oppressed. Instead she felt… wary. Hesitated. She felt a growl escape as she felt the eyes of the Empress’ agents still on her—kilometres away from the City’s centre.
Looking around her, surveying the ragged buildings and the remains of some, she almost tripped. There was something there, in the alley. Formless. Shifting. There. She felt her heart speed up, legs beginning to tremble and teeth chatter as she realised what it was.
Darkness.
Her ears splayed back and she lowered—fell—to the ground when two objects appeared in the darkness. Eyes, she realised as she noticed the pupils in them. And they were directed to something behind her.
Our subjective protagonist shivered as she felt the warmth radiate from behind her, the light which accompanied it somehow making the formless ever-shifting blob of Darkness in front of her seem even deeper, like the—to her unknown—void between the stars in the night sky. Letting a slight groan as she stumbled up from her downed position, our subjective protagonist noticed she had started perspiration at some point. The facts began forming up in her mind—the Empress had sent for her.
Slowly, nearly tripping on her hooves she turned towards the Agent. It was a horrifying creature—no, a creature would be alive alive—that shifted between the uncanny valley of a pony-esque equine and a thing thing that should not exist. It was like fire and sunlight and plasma had been coiled into an equine mould and created. A magic most grand and cruel. Truly a fit for an Empress.
Swallowing dryness, our subjective protagonist glanced at its redwhitegold eyes before flinching away from the horrifying nothingpainmakeitstop and instead moved her focus to its frontal hooves. Suppressing a growl, she began to speak. Perhaps to the Empress, perhaps to it, perhaps to gather her courage to face her end.
“I’ve know you. I’ve seen you. You’re the being that lurks in the brightest corners, watching, waiting for somepony to slip and then take them away. I’ve heard the whispers about you. I’ve heard the mares in the bars and I’ve seen the colts locking their doors during the Designated Resting Time. You’ll take a pony for saying the wrong word, for walking the wrong side of the road. I didn’t believe it. I had thought you were but a tale colts say to their foals to scare them to bed. But your eyes…”
She drew a breath as she tried to make herself—body and voice—stop shaking.
“Equestria’s been dead for years now, I realise. Take me then, you don’t scare me. The Empress won’t tell me what I’m allowed to say! Not anymore. You’re gonna have to step out of the light and fight to drag me away. I’m done.”
Our subjective protagonist lowered herself to a fighting stance, the glow of her horn almost invisible in the light as it snorted silently, black smoke billowing from its nostrils as it took a half of a step forward. That’s when the Darkness behind her swarmed.
It felt like an eternity and an instant, as the black tendrils—as dark as the blob from whence they came—reached around her, swarming her vision and grabbing the thing in front of her. Had she known what an eclipse was, our subjective protagonist would have described the feeling which she felt as the tendrils touched the thing as if the midday summer sun had suddenly and without a warning eclipsed. As it was however, she merely stood there. Stunned that something—someone—somecorn to be specific, but that does not matter at the moment—with power rivalling—no overpowering the Empress’ agents existed.
She could merely look, as the Agent slowly extinguished. Like a dying flame, the thing’s brilliance died away as the tendrils gnawed away at it, leeching its light and life. Slowly, its light died and only embers remained. The fire and sunlight and plasma were gone. Only what little remained of Twilight Sparkle, the container of the Empress’ will was still standing.
Standing and slowly crumbling to dust.
Opening her eyes, and causing the eyelids to crumble away, she looked them—or perhaps at our subjective protagonist. Or the Darkness behind her. That, though, is not for us to know—and smiled. Our subjective protagonist blinked, and the remains crumbled away, into a pile of dust. She didn’t register the tendrils inching slowly away from the remains, as if paying their last respects.
A moment of silence passed, before she turned and faced the origin of the tendrils.
If you know neither the enemy, nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.
The two made their plans quickly, for it wouldn’t take long for the Empress to realise that one of her Agents had perished. Perhaps she already knew? It doesn’t matter if she did, not to us at least, at this moment. Our subjective protagonist listened, as the Darkness told her of a plan. If she could reach the Tower at the centre of the City, she could destroy the Main Mana Repeater which would then shatter the nodes that transfer the power further to the spell matrixes that keep the Sun up.
Or to put it bluntly, take out the Tower and take down the Sun.
Of course, there was another part of the plan that our subjective protagonist didn’t know. Taking down the Tower also disrupts the matrixes that keep up the spells that prevent Her from entering further into the City. It had taken years of subtly chipping away at the matrixes that held the spells before she had gotten this far. But with this… the Empress would finally be within the reach of her hooves. Maybe she would finally have… peace.
From within the Darkness a set of saddlebags hoofed over, filled with gems charged with magic and an explosive matrix weaved over them.
「Go.」
The unicorn cast a quick featherweight spell on the bag and began running. Back into the City. Back to the light. As she ran, the outskirts gradually gave way to slums. Slums to abandoned factories. Factories to warehouses. Warehouses to store fronts and houses. She did not glance as she ran past her father’s herd’s house. Store fronts and houses gave way to gleaming marble buildings.
As she ran, the Crier-Golems began shouting reports. Reports of disorder from the outskirts. Reports of a growing threat to a public safety. Requests to keep an eye out for possible dissenters. Reminders that aiding and abetting of disorder and disharmony is punishable by death.
There were fewer and fewer ponies the closer to the Tower she ran. The closer to the Tower she ran the higher the buildings were. The higher the buildings were the higher the temperature rose. The Tower was at the heart of the City, the highest building. The shiniest. The marble-iest. It was connected to the rest of the City by the Eight Spokes of the Wheel, the eight main streets that connect all the way from the Tower to the Rim.
As she ran through the marble buildings, thoughts began to go warble through her mind. Thoughts of a City after the Solar Day. A City with a Night. Children that can sleep and dream peacefully, without Light shining through their eyelids as they lie on their beds. Children that wouldn’t have to fear that their parents would disappear from their beds.
Climb to the top of the world.
The Tower was approaching. She felt the sweat fly from her coat and tail and mane which would have cast rainbows had something been there watching. Or perhaps they did, as we are reviewing the tale? But this or this are not times fit for a metaphysical philosophy, physics or philosophical metaphysics. There had been no ponies at least for the last kilometre. Our subjective protagonist increased her speed.
And as you stand tall, you will see...
No hesitation. No fear. She reached the curb surrounding the Tower and leaped up the stairs to the doors with a single leap. She did not even blink as she enveloped herself with a shield and exploded through them. Landing with a slide on the white marble floor, she scanned the hall for stairs. She consciously avoided registering the alarms that were blaring in the background as she ran up the stairs.
That when you fall...
Flight after flight, she bounded steps at a time. Her chest aching, threatening to collapse. Her legs never hesitating, never pausing, never trembling. Finally, she leaped through the doorway leading to the roof and sending the door of said doorway hurtling down to the streets. Landing on the roof, she nearly collapsed as the heat began to cook her from inside. Stifling a groan, she unclasped her saddlebags and threw them at the base of the Repeater, activating the timer matrix on the gems and turned back to the stairs.
You will fall from a height most ponies will never reach.
She stood upon the Wall that separated the City from the surrounding Wastelands and waited. She had felt the resonance from the pony's "Night" Origin and its clashing with her "Day" Origin. It was unusual to meet ponies with more than one Origin. Hers, as to be expected from being one with it was "Night." Her sister's was similarly "Day." until... well, the Empire.
She shook her head before blinking as she felt saw the explosion at the centre of the City, at the top portion of the Tower. It took a few moments before the spells keeping her and other undesirables fell. It was as if the world blinked, as she stopped existing at the wall and began existing on a rooftop near the Tower.
She watched as the debris was falling towards the ground, towards the nearby assorted group of security golems. She was about move on when she noticed a blotch of colour within the debris. She narrowed her eyes as they found the body of the pony from before. Sunset Shimmer. Yet another name added to the list her sister's hubris has taken.
As the world blinked and the one that was there before stopped existing, it could have sworn that for a short moment there was something watery and salty falling that evaporated before it hit the roof.
Continuing her existence in front of ornate doors, she blinked three times to clear them from any possible grime and opened the doors to the Empress Sol Invictus' chambers. Princess Luna's expression did not falter, as she prepared to fulfil her eternal Destiny and duty "Protect" just as her sister's, Princess Celestia's eternal Destiny and duty had once been "Serve"
Princess Luna entered her sister's chambers————
Terribly sorry there, my friend. But she wasn't our protagonist.